When Your Loophole Becomes a Noose

Remember bonfires? Pepperidge Farm remembers. Pepperidge Farm also remembers growing up in the country and going to high school in a one-traffic light town where everything you did went down on your permanent record in the court of public opinion, even in the days before the internet.

Without any exposition, we don’t know whether The Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Paint were charged with anything or got off with a warning (maybe ’cause Deputy Dawg went back to huff the spray paint he made the kids leave on the ground). We do know that the blue mafia played telephone with Gil, who’s now fixin’ to make his already bad team even worse.

Again, without any additional exposition we have no evidence that a crime has been committed. Will Gil’s punishment fit the crime? Death Valleys until they puke? Benched for a quarter, or a half, or a game? Do they get kicked off the team just like B/Robby? Really, what’s Gil’s long game here? Kick enough kids off the team to forfeit the rest of the season?

The only bonfire we’ll be seeing hearing is the one the Marty n’ B/Robby Show will be firing up to burn Gil in effigy.

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There’s No Such Thing As A Bad Boy. Just Bad Plots.

Let me be SERIOUS for a minute. I agree with Coach Kaz that if something on the radio, TV, podcast, CD player, record player, electronic media devices, offends you or you don’t like what you hear TURN IT OFF. I have long been an advocate of this idea rather than let self-righteous hypocrites tell us what we can or cannot listen to.

Those who say that, for example, that Black Sabbath leads people down the wrong road don’t wash with me. I’ve been a Sabbie forever (“Technical Ecstasy” and “Volume 4” on the cassette player while balancing equations in high school Chemistry-the memories) and I have a medical doctor in my family. Those who LET another human being get in their heads have nobody to blame but THEMSELVES.

You have the power right within the radio dial.

USE IT.

George Burns was right. You may not be able to change the world but you can always change the channel.

 

Okay, soap box aside, was Coach Kaz listening in on the conversation? Was he smoking a couple of Lucky Strikes from that one guy’s locker? Such sleight-of-hand. Just sneak in before the basketball guys are done at the water fountain, hide behind the lost and found box (if you can stand the stench, Coach-me, I would’ve come clean rather than smell 3-day-old jock strap odor permeate through the pile) , wait ’til they all pass through, listen to them plot the Invasion of Poland, then pounce on ’em and tell ’em they better take Sweden instead. Not as many people and more blonds. The Swedish Bikini Team might be touring the country. Worth conquering, in other words. Just a suggestion. Just don’t send Enola Gay to pinpoint a billboard. Off limits. What would the UN think?

 

And I just FREEZE when I hear the word “loophole”. I can’t even imagine the scenario but here goes.

Our anti-heroes wind up skinny-dipping in some farmer’s pond with the cows on the other end eating the chili dogs and Jack they received when Ol’ McDonald returned that slab of tenderloin he hocked at the Milford 4-H Hoedown to MBW,  giving Roberto the swirlie of his life. Coach Kaz is out digging for worms for bait when he goes trout-fishing at Mudlark Lake and catches our anti-heroes (C’mon, did you ever see Captain America give Spiderman a swirlie?) in the act.

“I thought I told you to leave Roberto alone. So what’s the deal?”

“He accepted our invitation to go for a midnight swim. He challenged us to a fight after we said his mother advertises World’s Finest Chocolate off her pickle wagon. What could we do? We couldn’t run out on the road with the County sheriff patrolling the beat. We had no choice but to stand our ground.”

Like Coach Stuard used to teach me, good teams find a way around the  rules, if necessary. No better example than this.

 

Thanks to Matt Maloney, of Louisville, Kentucky, with help with the above comedy idea. Keep up the good work at your job, Matt. You work HARD and DEFINITELY represent America.

 

And don’t even go there in P3. Okay, the team is going to try to circumvent Kaz’s Mandate because, well, they’re kids. So you can’t give Roberto a swirlie on School Grounds. Fair enough. you still got the Milford Mall bathroom, McDonald’s, Milford Kwik-EE Mart and all you need is the key for the last one. Simple. Keep Roberto in the trunk, someone go get the key and tell them they had one Bucket Chili Dog too many, procure the Gateway to Relief, get Asshole Roberto out of the trunk, get him to bathroom before anyone  can write  more nasty stuff on the walls (“Roberto sits all broken-hearted/Tried to poop but only farted”) , stick in his head in designated Hell hole. Fun is sure to follow.

And if Kaz comes in unexpectedly for the munchies and has to have 3 bags of Doritos $4  Organic Nacho Supreme, what can he do? Okay, call the police but they weren’t on School Grounds!!!!!!! Not that I’m encouraging this but where the hell are they going in P3???????? This is The Sopranos getting out the car. Did they make sure Roberto had concrete shoes on while dumping him in Mudlark Lake???????? He just insulted the coach, not attacked The Don’s order. Well, finish the job, Sopranos, er, Mudlarks, and let’s get back to basketball. And keep your silencers in your lockers.

 

This is the city. Milford, USA. An average-sized town with plenty of activity, some not always on the level. That’s when I go to work. My name’s Friday. I carry a badge.

It was drizzling in Milford. The weatherman call for The Rapture later. My partner, Bill Gannon, and I were assigned to the Domestic Fraud and Dismemberment Department, Adult Division. The boss is Captain Mr. Clean.

There had been unconfirmed reports of abnormal, illicit, and illegal toilet operations. SWAT team members had been investigating  restaurants and bars off of anonymous tips we received from our alert citizens. They traced the illegal trade to the Milford Lounge and The Bucket.

“So whattya think?”

“Nuthin’ yet. Still got all night.”

“What thrill do kids get from sticking a classmate’s head down the john?”

“Beats me. We did the same thing to the Japanese when I was in the Service. Spilled their guts right down to the vanilla sushi. Got one to say Emperor Hirohito was the AntiChrist rather than douse his head in a neglected barracks latrine. A PFC got a month’s KP cuz he forgot Latrine Duty. Geez, the stink. Smelled like Coach Shaw after he bombed Pearl Harbor in Gil’s WC. No wonder why the man cracked.

Gannon looks through his lorgniette.

“Joe, I think we got trouble.”

“And plenty of. Let’s go.”

We spotted some teenagers pulling into the drive-in of The Bucket. We thought nothing of it until we saw them get out of the car. Normally, they grab the speaker and order the usual teenage fare, cheeseburgers, chocolate shakes and what-not. When they didn’t tip the car hop, I suspected trouble. We STILL had to catch them in the act. Headquarters wasn’t going to accept arresting a punk because he tipped Carly the Car Hop a $2 bill nor because he spit too much into his A & W Root Beer Bucket Float. We had to wait untoil at least Carly took a smoke break behind the dumpster. There’d be no swirlies there.

“Hey, there’s nerdnik Roberto over there!!!!!” “Where?”

“Over there, stupid.  Eatin’ in that corner booth with those women he  called on the Milford Singles Line. Dang, he runs the gamut. One’s a divorcee, once married to Dr. Pearl’s nephew, one’s an old maid,  Granny Clampett’s sister, I hear, one’s 350 pounds after she got blackballed from a Weight Watcher’s meeting-”

“Cut the trivia, dude!!!!!! Everybody ready?? At the count of 3, let’s whoop some butt and give his head a home-made Bucket Chocolate/Vanilla Twirl.”

They grabbed the initiative before we could make our move. Fortunately, the SWAT team was waiting in the girls’ bathroom while Gannon called for back-ups. You never knew with these punks. They were liable to throw Bucket Orange & Lime Yogurt at you and get it all over your jacket with the Lions Club lapel on it. You couldn’t be too careful.

The SWAT team reacted swiftly and none too soon, throwing tear gas in Stall #3. Those punks never stood a chance. They came out with their hands out while Roberto grabbed a paper towel because the Air Blower was out of order. The smoke would be there for days.

“Police officers!!!!!!!!! You’re under arrest!!!!!!

“Don’t shoot!!!!!!!! Don’t shoot!!!!!!!!!

Man, I get a boner to this day rounding up teenage ne’er-do-wells.

“Awwwwrright, Gannon, read ’em their rights.”

Gannon obliged, then asked one final question.

“Was it really worth it???? All you had to do was listen to another radio station. I heard Anderson Cooper is really down on Gil for lack of action or interest.”

“Yeah. We just couldn’t take any more. If we could snuff this mug, we could listen to Fibber McGee once again. His closet stinks but at least he makes sense. And he never criticizes the coach.

“Yeah???? Well, you’re going to share a cell with Daddy Bader while Roberto will still be on the air. And you still ain’t playing basketball.”

Eerie music cuts in, as it always does when Friday scores a touche.

DUM DA DUM DUM

 

DUM DA DUM DUM DUMMMMMMMMMMM

“On January 3rd, trial was held in the Milford Superior Court. In a moment, the results of that trial.”

 

Okay, Gene Rayburn is back, at the ready with another Match Game 2019 question. Take ‘er away, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought her ________________ would be great for R/Bobby to advertise on billboards.”

 

“On January 3rd, the Milford Superior Court found the Milford Mudlark Basketball team guilty of one count of recklless gang activity according to the Milford Penal Code Article 35, Section 21, punishable by probation to 5 years in the Milford Penitentiary, and 23 counts of plot inertia, according to Milford Penal Code Article 475, Section 95, Clause 103, punishable by Life Confinement to the Milford Gym or 5-10 years in the same, dependent on the degree of the swirlie.”

“The team now serving lay-up drills for 7 years until a parole hearing is scheduled in 2023.”

 

DING DONGGGGGGGG!!!!!!!!!!! HI HONEY, I’M HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Gil, you don’t have to ring the doorbell. This is your house!!!!!!!!”

“Oops, sorry. I was so carried away with that deal at Milford Beverage Warehouse that I forgot I wasn’t at Kaz’s house for Scrabble and Bud.”

“So you remembered to return the Amish macaroni salad you concealed in your ’93 football playbook?Did Dr. Pearl ever suspect that you took it from the faculty loung3e after the Milford Teachers’ Beer Bonanza Celebration?”

“Hell, no, they had to cart Pearl off to the Milford Emergency Clinic after she downed a fifth of Jack with no chaser. Tod Andrews was the Designated Driver. AND she still thinks Luhm crammed it under his dustpan before he was scheduled to turn on all the Raid Defogger cans to get rid of the fleas. Caramel quiche has a way of attracting fleas, I guess.”

“Did the Beverage guy ever tell you where the food was going?”

“He said they’ll be taking it to the Milford Food Pantry. Somebody desperate enough and tired of devouring old Michelin tires like Wile E. Coyote will chow down on Road Runner souffle and not-yet-moldy potato salad. He also said the Pantry sprays Lysol on everything before E. Coli can spread. There’ll be no Plague in Milford, believe me. Wile E. can confidently chew Road Runner meat knowing the USDA enforces no lice on a dead Road Runner or Bucket Burgers that have been under the heat lamp too long. But I got my 24-Pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon, I’m happy.”

“And what about the Dolly Madison Zingers?”

“They didn’t lose color. And the icing’s still fresh. We FedEx’d those and the Oreos to a mission somewhere off the coast of El Salvador. I negotiated for 2 Patron Reposado Teqauilas but the Warehouse wanted more Twinkies thrown in the transaction to earn another bottle. Damn, if only Coach Shaw wasn’t off another Hostess binge after he shot that raccoon.”

“Darling, I’m glad there’s somewhere to go to dump your unwanted condiments, the ones that wound up in Nativity No-Man’s Land. Sorta like those misfit toys that Santa found a home for. It’s nice that Dr. Pearl’s month-old carrot cake found a home. I heard Bumbles is still snarfing it after Herbie the Dentist got him a new pair of dentures (“Herbie doesn’t like to make carrot cake”, Herbie doesn’t…etc.) . The cake was disintegrating in your glove compartment.”

“Shoot, they gave me a Coors Light Keg o’ Tall Boys for that and even offered to give back the carrot cake if I’d let them have it krausened.”

 

“Boy, we could go on with this Boswell on the Milford Beverage Warehouse all night but it would probably wind up in the ER with Dr. Pearl, so don’t take our word for it. Bring back that box of KFC Buffalo Fries you’ve got stashed in the attic behind Grandma’s organ and get a fresh start. And a fresh Michelob. Sounds like a winner to me.”

 

Gang, I apologize. I have been FRANTICALLY trying to get this posted after my original got erased again. Still in the Dark Ages on technical wizardry. Thank you eternally for your patience. You mean A LOT to me.

 

“Wait a minute, Gil. There’s no ‘k’ in ‘sabbatical’.”

“Whatever. It’s a hard sound. Close enough. You already owe me 3 Buds. Don’t run up a bill.”

Perfect Kaz

The Mudlarks are not pleased with the ripping they receive from Robby Howry and they want revenge! We’re not sure which clever boy suggests the swirly (for the uninitiated, a swirly is holding somebody’s head in the toilet and flushing) but a more level headed boy rightly points out that it’s hard to give some random civilian a swirly without being in the same bathroom with him. Extra points for that sharp tack!

Of course the ever vigilant amateur detective Coach Kaz sniffs out this plan to exact revenge on Robby before it can go any further than the logistics of how to get Robby’s head in a toilet. He levels stern steely blues at the boys and establishes a Hands Off Robby rule.

The real star of this strip is Coach Kaz’s hair. We’re all very familiar with Kaz’s coiffure, but it really pops in all three panels today. It’s stacked up nicely on top, it cascades down the back, it fans out nicely around his collar and is accented by precise, geometrically manicured sideburns. As Warren Zevon said of his famous werewolf, “his hair was perfect!”

The title is inspired by Perfect Tommy from Buckaroo Banzai. Kaz’s do isn’t exactly the same as Tommy’s but they share a certain essence.

We’re Sorry, Marty Is On Assignment At K-Mart During The Frost/Nixon Proceedings

Gee whillikers, Archie Andrews, MARTY RETURNS!!!!!!!!!! Gang, speaking of Archie, how long do you think Archie & the Gang would last as a Double Issue if Jughead Jones went to Milford Rehab Center for his hamburger addiction and was sentenced by the Rehab Center Commission to their retreat house out somewhere in the boonies whose property  borders the property line of the Milford Nature Area? I’m not expecting Jughead back anytime soon if he’s ordered a strict diet of milkweed salad and soy milk.

Or if Moose Mason got sent to the pen because he found out Reggie went all the way with Midge this time, in the back seat of Reggie’s T-Bird no less and got pummeled to death, let me repeat that, LITERALLY got pummeled to death. Yup, Reggie had fun, fun, fun ’til Moose took his one life away. Okay, Beach boys had better lyrics but I’m trying to make a point, c’mon.

Speaking of lyrics, if you’re wondering where Jimi Hendrix got some of his own tunesmithing

“Heeeeeeyyyyyyy, Moose

Where you goin’ with that gun in your hand

Heyyyyyyyyyyyy, Moose

Where you goin’ with that gun in your hand

 

I’m goin’ down to shoot Midge, my old lady

Y’know I caught her messin’ ’round with Reg again

etc. etc. etc.

 

And we might NEVER see Jughead or Moose again and, if so, the Archie Comix Collection is going to cause the Dow to plunge, not to mention severely cripple sales at these Comic Conventions.

BUT MARTY???????? Welcome him and The Prodigal Son back to the fold. Kill the fatted calf and reopen the Milford Lounge, doesn’t matter which one you do first, one will be a snake who becames a lamb while the other will be also be a snake but turn into a lizard. I’ll let you decide who is who but I’ve never known lizards to have a taste for ground round steaks.

And what a way for Marty to make his grandiose return to the fellowship BY BEING OUTSCOOPED by The Daily Planet!!!!!!!! Marty, how in the world could you have not known that Superman had to call an ambulance because he had a severe case of the runs due to an overdose of kryptonite? You didn’t notice the wagon flying by your house? Welcome back, Kotter, even if Jimmy Olson done bunked your ass.

And for that matter, aren’t you all at least a little shocked that the station manager at WDIG isn’t tearing a new butthole into Moon? (Smacks head) Shit, I forgot, Thorpiverse is trying to keep things on the level and maintain a Christian Family Atmosphere that is Gil Thorp. C’mon, gang, you remember when you were kids and you went to the Milford Lounge, they had a FAMILY ROOM. Well, they didn’t want you on a bar stool sitting next to Otis the Drunk slobbering all over himself. Foster Brooks not covering his mouth after downing a Heineken? Where’s your manners, Foster? THEREFORE punishing profanity trumps the nature of the beast of Journalism. Share that greasy cheeseburger with your kid sister while there’s an orgy next door. It doesn’t matter if Linda Lovelace and Raquel Welch are bare-chested and performing questionable acts with members of the opposite sex, as long as it’s on the other side of the Mason-Dixon Line, we’ll keep coming to Milford Lounge for supper.

Can’t you see the station manager in a Father Knows Best heart-to-heart talk with Marty?

“If cub reporter, Peter Brady, writes an expose on WW III, well, Marty (slap on the wrist) , do better next time and fight to get to Omar Bradley’s office sooner even if it means slipping a 20, 5 times his allowance, or stuffing firecrackers down his pants

but GODDAMMIT, Moon, watch your language when broadcasting the Mudlarks!!!!!!!!!!”

“Yes, Father.”

 

“General Custer, were you aware that 1,000,000 Indians are lying in ambush behind that hill?”

SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Hey, watch your language!!!!!!!!!! You’re on the air!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

There’s a rumor that Marty got outscooped by the Milford Star at Little Big Horn because he was interviewing Mimi Thorp on the possible rule change allowing 5 seconds in the lane.  Just a rumor, I understand.

 

 

Shout-out to Rebecca Arnold of Louisville, Kentucky, for her courage to overcome many obstacles while in a wheelchair. Gang, she gets out and about and today she was enrolling in a class to make her a better person. Good for her. Gang, she is proving that she is always learning. That is what life is all about. She has a firm grasp on that. Keep plugging away, Rebecca. You have my admiration and respect.

 

Wait a minute, don’t tell me. Richard Milhouse Nixon has a great-great-great grandson who is carrying the torch for his great-great-great-papaw. Robbin’ Robert is taking a cue from Tricky Dick on how to sabotage Gil and still stay above board. Why not? Nixon almost pulled it off.

So in the next few days, or weeks (oh God) , we  will experience a tell-all story on a scale measuring up to but perhaps not quite Watergate.

Go ahead, Robbin’ Robert, tell I’m-just-here-because-Marty’s-covering-after-Holiday-returns-at-Wal-Mart all about your break-ins in all the sections of town.Why stop at billboards? Confess that you broke into Gil’s office and stole his recorded conversations on Dial-a-Slut and you were going to blackmail him later on. Better yet, HANG ON to those tapes and build up the drama, citing Equipment Manager’s privilege the way Nixon cited Executive privilege when he refused to hand in his own tapes. For all we know, those tapes may be something other than Gil’s lewd comments to some grad student on the other end trying to pay the bills for her Masters in Psychology by feeding Gil’s ego.

“Woman, I’d really love to sink my wim wim into your Grand Canyon and climb onto your boobs and-YOUR CHEATIN’ HEEEEARRRRRRRRTTTT, WILL MAKE YOU WEARYYYYYYYYYYYY, YOUR CHEATIN’ HEARRRRRRRRRRTTTTT, WILL TELL ON YOUUUUUUUUUUUUU”

Why be satisfied with Gil’s office? Bust into Dr. Pearl’s office and find out what she said on the Astrology Line. One can imagine (“I’m a Capricorn. Are they up for Administrator of the Year? I can retire early and not have to put up with Gil calling me at 1:30 AM, talking about my boobs. Doesn’t Gil get enough from Mimi’s water balloons? Tell me, O Great Gazoo”) .

Hell, bust into The Bucket after hours. Just grab a sizeable stone and chip away at the lock on the door, then break in and get all the recipes and trade secrets. A typical reaction might include

“They obtain banana split ice cream from goats in the Kashmir region?”

“Bucket Cheeseburgers are made from exported kangaroo meat out of Northern Territory, Australia? Straight from Darwin to Milford via Easter Island?”

“Bell hops are supposed to be virgins and are docked an hour’s pay for every child out of wedlock?”

“Mimi rejected The Bucket owner’s advances when she was a teenager working as a bell hop and got transferred to the Large Pots and Corningware Department where her duties were scrubbing the large pots and pans with Beetle Bailey and Zero, out of retaliation from the owner? Couldn’t have been all bad, Mimi bought some plastic teeth from Milford Novelty and affectionately posed with Zero in a group photo along with Beetle before she went on to College.”

“The French fries are really llama’s entrails from the Atacama region of South America?”

“Crunchy chocolate frogs are made from real frog bones?” Whoopsy daisy, Robbin’
Robert, you’ve stepped into Monty Python territory. Better get out of the labyrinth before the Minotaur comes to call.

 

With help from an anonymous friend who supplied the ideas and kept eggin’ it on, the one about people hocking merchandise at Christmas parties, a taste of which I gave you last week,

A more realistic scenario would go like this

‘MOON!!!!!!!!!!! You get outscooped by the Daily Blab one more time over Little Lotta failing her urine test for heroin at school again and it’ll be the last time cuz you’ll be out of a job. And where’s that divorce report over Richie Rich and Little Dot? I understand she wanted Rich’s gold-plated swimming pool in the shape of a dot. Says she has a hunkering for anything round. Eats hamburgers with Jughead because hamburgers are not shaped like trapezoids or rhombuses or ovids but DOTS!!!!!!!! Even her toilet paper is dot-shaped. Wipes her ass all the time with it. Charmin is comin’ out with a new product line as a result.”

“Crap, I left it in the trunk.”

“Your job will be in the trunk if that happens again!!!!!!!!!!! Now here’s your chance to make me happy. Seems that Howry is amassing a chemical dump behind Milford Foundry and trying to put the finger on Gil. A source was in a tree watching Howry finger-paint with toxic chemicals ‘Gil was here’. C’mon, less chatter, more matter!!!!!!!!!!”

“On it, Chief.”

“And don’t call me Chief!!!!!!!!!!!”

Marty looks through his desk drawers for his steno pad, opening his big drawer first which is crammed with 3-Liter Diet Mudlar-K-Cola bottles from the ‘DIG Christmas party. Ditto the cotto salami block, half-eaten, slightly moldy. He searches the smaller drawer above the biggie. Nothing but a Tupperware flat bowl of cole slaw, some mac and cheese in a paper cereal bowl, and a few Slim Jims, Jalapeno and Sea Salt, bent to accommodate the shape of the drawer. Oh, and 1,354,578 Smarties. Marty prays some kid will never come snooping and open the drawer and get deluged with Smarties and drown or the Slim Jim snake springs up out of nowhere and attacks the kid. Wouldn’t that be a lawsuit for The Shark to handle.

He then turns to his middle drawer. What a smorgasbord. Between erasers and paper clips and his yearbook photo he clipped out of the Milford HS yearbook, held for posterity at the Milford Library Archives section because he lost his own, are 2-for-1 Lays Potato Chip mini-bags, ranging from Bar-B-Q to Sour Cream to Poplar-Tree-Behind-Gil’s-Office-Smoked, 124 10-packs of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, 3-day-old pasta salad with turnips and Amish potato salad, reduced fat. Marty is about to indulge in one of the Snickers Fire-Roasted Peanuts Candy Bar when he feels a wedgie in his butt.

He yanks out his steno pad while eating Kellogg’s Special K Prune Formula that fell out of Fibber McGee’s closet and they both consequently share, using separate bowls of course. BTW, Fibber pours 2% while Marty has a hunkering for Milford Dairies White Chocolate Reduced Flavor. Different strokes for different folks.

A shout-out goes to Lakena (la-KEEN-a) Kraft of Louisville, Kentucky. Lakena, you have an infectious smile and I can tell you have the joy of the Lord. I thank you for encouraging my warped sense of humor. You helped set the stage today with your enthusiasm and that’s the way you approach life and SHOULD approach life. Geting up early to face the day tells me you are taking the tiger by the tail. It’s how things get done. They need ya in Heaven.

 

And does ANYBODY notice the pile Gil is throwing the today’s Milford Star on? It could be scouting reports OR it could be MORE newspapers? What if I’m right? The Milford Star and the Milford Enquirer has been getting the lowdown on Gil’s coaching career, or for that matter, HIS LIFE, once a week or EVERY DAY?????? I’m curious what the headlines would read that he’s been so nonchalantly tossing to the wind.

“Thorp Cleared In Sexual Harassment Suit With Dr. Pearl!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil Spots A UFO While Taking A Potty Break In Outhouse At Mudlark Lake!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil Said He Bitch-Slapped Chitwood Only Once!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil And Basketball Referee Break It Off After Suspicions Are Aroused!!!!!!!!!!!!”\

“The Bucket Denies Half A Roach Was Found In Gil’s Bucket PB & J!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Then there’s the medical term Gil and the rest of Thorpiverse is trying to throw at us, hoping we’ll genuflect in awe. Having a medical doctor in the family, this writer is not easily swayed.

“So Gil, do you think Howry has dopamin stored in his garage?”

“No, he sold that at a yard sale last Saturday. I heard he was trying to get Filion high on epiniphrine. You snort it like a cocaine pipe. You need a week’s supply of Scope to wash out your mouth.”

“Yeah, but I heard he swallowed a bottle of Triavil so he could float and finish his Robby Report on the billboard.”

“If he did, his side effects were nasty. You wind up farting nitroglycerine all over the road.”

“I heard differently. Moon told me he was OD’ing from Underoos.”

“No way. That’s what he was wearing.”

 

Gang, comment away. I’m going to try to get Howry down. Maybe if I can harpoon his Underoos…

 

Dr. Pearl in a Parent-Teacher Conference

“I can proudly say that your Calvin is Harvard material. Why, here’s his board scores right here” as she hands the parents the Tupperware of celery and carrots w/ spinach dip to pore over that she retrieved out of the file cabinet.

 

At The Bucket, The Inspector and the owner have a war of words

“You’re going to have to take the bones out of your Bucket Crunchy Frog Shake.”

“If we took out the bones, it wouldn’t be crunchy now, would it?”

 

Long live Monty Python

Meet The Press

I doubt we’ll ever know who the member of the press is, this bearded reporter covering the billboard beat. He served his purpose by writing up the Robby Howry story and his editor printed it. So his work is done and Gil and Kaz have seen Robby’s delusions in black and white. See ya later, Bearded Reporter. Say hi to Marjie for us.

Kaz is angry! He wants Gil to fire back against this fractured media accounting of RobbyBobby’s split with Milford athletics. But Gil must remind hotheaded Kaz with the FREAK POINTY FINGER that, no, Gil can’t just fire back and set the record straight. Because….

We’ll hear more for Gil maybe, but where is Marty? The media of Milford is buzzing with something juicy which could chip away at Gil’s standing. C’mon Marty, you need to track down Robby and get him on your show. We know you’ll do a face plant eventually but you’ve got to strike now. We know there’s no way that happens because we need to talk about kettlehead.

I’m just a multi-dimentional asshole.

My given name is Robert.  I remember when I was a little kid everyone called me Robby. My dad said when I got older people would call me Bob. I preferred Rob. I thought it sounded friendlier and warmer then Bob. So that it was. I even got a vanity license plate with Rob on it when I got my first car. I remember ordering it and requesting ‘Rob” and the state sending me a letter saying ‘Rob’ was taken, but ‘Rob 1108’ wasnt so here you go. I said fine. And I’ve had the same plate for 28 years now, my vanity plate surviving a state-ordered redesign of the plates last year. It only costs $11 for a vanity plate with letters and numbers, and $70 for only letters. So I got off cheap as well, and my old plate sits proudly in my garage like an old trophy, next to my dads VFW plate.

I wonder how often a character in a comic strip changes their first name. First of all they arent even human so they dont really care. But the strip writer does, and maybe Howry wanted to change his image? What the hell other reason is there? I think he was wearing the same blue pants when we last saw him assisting the basketball team in March 2015–

 

but he found another shirt and ditched the red sleeveless vest he wore 2 days in a row.

Anyway– its nice that alumni give a crap about the basketball team, even though they only play once in a blue moon, but Howry is going a bit overboard; most people in college or shortly thereafter are busy discovering their careers, or otherwise trying to get a job, and not worrying about someone elses job. Calling for a high school coaches head is completely foreign to me and anyone else who follows high school sports on a part-time basis. The coaches are also teachers at the school who are salaried as teachers and coach the teams on their own time.  The basketball coach at my high school was also an English teacher and guidance counselor. The hoops team sucked all 4 years I was there, but the coach was never publicy criticized nor should he have been. John Wooden couldnt win with what we had.

Going forward, it will be interesting to see what Robby has to say about all this, including perhaps his reason for his name change; but of course like most Milford characters he comes off like a dope.

**I added a new category, Bobby Howry, since he used to be Bobby and we can tag old posts with his references, plus find his old stuff faster. I guessed on the year and came up roses.

The Billboards Are Due On Maple Street

Gil, aren’t we understating THE OBVIOUS????? My Friend, you were just awarded Comment of the Year by the Milford Kiwanis Club. Wanta know who got #2? None other than Marty Moon for stealing Calvin Coolidge’s maxim “I choose not to run”, when Moon was asked if he was interested in the station manager’s job at WDIG after the present manager retires. Suspending people for saying “He plays like elephant poop”  and “Gil has a face that bears a striking resemblance to Dumbo’s butt” on the air can start to wear on you down the years.

Melodramatic??????? Really??????? I don’t know about you, Coach Thorp, but I’m beginning to like Larry, Curly, and Moe run the basketball team.

“Nyuk, nyuk, let’s run that give and go a little faster.’

“Yeah!!!!!! And no dunking on the volleyball net!!!!!!!” BOP!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Well. I was going to get that video lined up for today, “The Radio City Rockettes at the Milford Girls-a-Go Go Club” but the VCR ate the tape and I gotta sort through the spools and that’ll take some time. How ’bout a Twilight Zone episode instead???? I know, I know, watching strip to “New York, New York” accompanied by Coach Shaw on the jazz guitar and Gil on the baritone would have been a fascinating after-Christmas presentation but I KNOW there’s a lot of y’all that love to be Zonin’. Let’s Zone the night away, shall we?

 

I mean, really. Remind me to remind you that this could just be a front. Anyone remember “Attack of the Killer Tomatoes?” Isn’t this just the same difference?

And remember Claude Akins, before he attended Northwestern and majored in Tractor Trailer Technology with a minor in French and went on to pursue a rewarding career driving Kenworth’s on “Movin’ On”, when he appeared on that Twilight Zone episode? Well, gang, guess I shouldn’t give the story away but he WILL figure mightily in the festivities today. He’s taking a break and somebody else is taking his seat in the semi.

“I’mmmmmmm Mr. Mooney and I have driven Freightliners beforrrrreeeeeee.”

Yeah, but looks like you’re having trouble getting it from 4th to 5th gear.”

“I can alllllllwwwayyyysssss call Mrs. Carmichael. She’s been going through the Swift Trucking Schooooooolllllllll when she’s not working at the bannnnkkkkkkkkk.”

 

GIL THORP AND CLAUDE AKINS GO TO THE SAME BARBER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Look, Marty, I catch enough of your shit on the radio but this time you’ve gone too far. Some of my best friends watch Claude Akins on ‘B.J. and the Bear’.”

Mimi rushes up, barely missing the Lamar Outdoor Advertising billboard.

“Gil, every other comic strip’s plot has the lights on in its house except for ours. Let’s ask Billy, Jeffy, Dolly, P.J., and Barfy what the deal is. They live one block over.”

“NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! Don’t let them go!!!!!!!!! They’re trying to escape with the rest of E.T.’s friends!!!!!!!!!! I knew you ate too much quiche at The Bucket!!!!!!!!!! I didn’t get suspicious until you insisted to the waitress to start adding Edam cheese!!!!!!!!!!! He’s not as macho as he’s been presenting himself the last 60 years!!!!!!!!”

“That’s not true!!!!!!!!!!! My husband just beat out G. Gordon Liddy to pose for the Marlboro Man when they had to find a replacement after the Marlboro Man died of lung cancer at our basketball game with Tilden!!!!!!!!!”

Claude using his French major to good use

“Arretez-vous!!!!!! Arretez-vous!!!!!!!!! Ne soyez pas malade!!!!!!!!!!”

“Claude, we’re not crazy but Gil goes to Fine Cuts. His barber died of a heart attack last year.”

 

 

Kaz’s earring is wired in gaudy

And Gil’s hair is combed out wrong

You better take off this masquerade

Cuz this stupid plot

Is too lonnnngggggggggggg

 

A little Procul Harum for those of you listening while you’re going down the elevator. “Homburg” is the tune, you whippersnappers.

 

BUT CLAUDE USES MORE BRYLCREAM THAN GIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Kaz, I don’t even use Brylcream anymore. That went out with the Hula Hoop. I use Vidal Sassoon Extra Hold Deer Scent. You, more than anyone else, oughta know when we hit the Milford Athletic Club what toiletries I use the way you’re always mooching for my Old Spice Watermelon Wonder Soap on a Rope and slapping on my Mennen Cool Mist After Shave behind my back.”

“Look who’s talking!!!!!! If you’re gonna swipe one of my jock straps, will you at least put ’em in your Maytag and wash the damn things, cold cycle preferably????? My doctor diagnosed me with Jock Strap Rub and it keeps me awake at night!!!!!”

“Kaz, between signing contracts for officials for Mimi’s basketball games and helping my kids with their pre-school pre-algebra homework, I don’t always find the time to get the mildew. I have used Lysol in the past. Did you ever try to call around for zebras for Mimi’s 5 basketball games????? I’m lucky to have 2 games under my belt so far. And I had to promise one that Rick would wash his referee shirt after the game.”

Claude intervenes.

“I’ll do one of the games. I have my Middle School License through the High School Athletic Association.”

 

Parents complain about YOU, Gil???????? Coach, from what I’ve heard, they pray 5 times a day facing the Mudlark gym. ANYBODY caught complaining on this strip will have his day in court for, 3-4 months at the max, but we all remember what happened several plots ago when Mr. Promoter tried to plug his nephew and his singing talent. He had his nephew AND Gil on the ropes until the script called for Dad to come in and clean things up. We could have used Santa Claus, Barney Fife, Don Rickles, Ed McMahon to run Mr. Promoter out of town but that’s pressing our luck if we want to make restoring your status half-way believable.

“And now, HEEEEEEERRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEE’SSSSSSSS GIL!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Thanks, Ed, good to be restored to the strip. Guess one shitty apple doesn’t spoil the punch. It’s nice to know all the parents and Doc’s band still support me.”

No.

 

 

 

 

MIMI COACHES A BIDDY BALL SCHEDULE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kaz’s girlfriend and Mimi at each other’s throats

“I never put that billboard up but if you’d play some REAL teams instead of those ones you phone out of the Milford Yellow Pages under ‘Social Organizations’, you’d have a couple of championships under your belt, Girl.”

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t the one to sprinkle extra garlic on the Texas Toast Tomato Souffle when the recipe called for paprika. You could’ve caused a white rhino to sneeze his horn off the way you threw your ingredients on the baking pan.”

“Ladies, ladies, now take it easy. There’s no need to fuss at each other. Just cool down and eat another slice of Texas toast. And pass the pimento peppers.”

Claude takes a bite.

“Ummmmmmm, good!!!!!! Where’d you find the recipe?”

“Oh, my great-grandmother baked them for the GI’s when she was a WAC, she-”

BBBRRRRRRRAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Sorry, Ladies. Anybody got a Tums?”

“PHEWWWW, Claude, you’re gonna start a riot if you don’t get back on that spaceship with Gazoo.”

 

 

The funky-looking tree behind Gil saying “Hi Mom” is due in Gil’s office on Maple Street.

‘Nuff said.

 

 

 

MARTY MOON STAPLES HIS GOATEE ON HIS FACE BECAUSE HE RAN OUT OF EPOXY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Peaches, that was a pretty low blow. I know I may have a flat tire when we go to bed that needs to be pumped up to at least 35 pounds PSI but leave my Leon Trotsky look alone. He’s my idol. In fact, Mr. Mooney is trying to sport one just like this to intimidate Lucy Carmichael into working faster.”

“Darling, I don’t know what you’re talking about. Yeah, you need a Breathalyzer Test done on your wim-wim but I don’t even have a stapler. You’re just being your usual paranoic self. Happiness is so unreal and love you definitely cannot feel, not with that steroid-starving specimen.”

“Claude, isn’t this your time to intervene? The Twilight Zone is about to end and Rod Serling is due anytime now to step to the plate.”

“Marty, you suck. Ain’t no way I’m standing up for a guy who skipped his group therapy session at the Milford Men’s Clinic. I’m shovin’ off in my truck after Will is done showering in the cab.”

 

Gang, raise your hand if you’re tired of the North By Northwest shot in P3. Don’t you just love the Transitive Property of Equality being employed while Cary Grant is hanging off of Kaz’s left nostril? Don’t think Hitchcock was THAT innovative.

So let’s go ahead and work out the logic while Hitchcock devises a way for Cary Grant to get down (“We could try an escalator. It worked when ELO did ‘Xanadu’. Think of the majesty and grandiloquence of the concept.” “YEAH!!!!!!! THAT’S IT!!!!!!!! Anybody have Jeff Lynne’s number?”) .

 

Only smarmy pricks who went to the DeVry Institute to major in Refrigerator Electronics because a Milford High School diploma was only going to get you a job at the Milford 7-11 can afford to stage malicious billboard messages.

Bobby Howry a/k/a Robert Howry a/k/a Claude Akins’ Evil Twin is a smarmy prick who went to the DeVry Institute to major in Refrigerator Technology because a Milford High School diploma was only going to get you a job at the Milford 7-11.

Quod Erat Demonstratum

Bobby Howry a/k/a Robert Howry a/k/a Claude Akins’ Evil Twin can afford to stage malicious billboard messages.

 

I think we have narrowed down our culprit. We know does not refer to Felix the Cat. Don’t bother. I checked.

 

DR. PEARL DOES HER SOPHOMORE ATTENDANCE REPORTS FOR JANUARY IN THE RAW!!!!!!!!!!!

“Ms. Rizk, I know I’ve been encouraging you to get your head out of that typewriter but honestly, did you have to resort to desperate measures to get a little sunshine?????? You ever try to go to the Milford Tanning Clinic?????? You’d be browner and my reputation would be intact.”

“Mrs. Clampett, I have no clue what you’re talking about. If you would have backed me when I had that run-in with Beaudry’s parents after I’d flunked him, there’d be no need for this conversation. Why would I waste my time insulting you on a billboard when I can say to your face that Mrs. Butterworth and you put fillers in their bras?”

“WELL!!!!!! Sonny-”

“Claude, ma’am.”

“Sonny, Claude, Red Sovine, whatever, I just want to get a Honeywell Word Processor and smash her head!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh, don’t do that. Mz. Rizk, I’m sorry, I gotta call it like I see it. I’m getting erect for Granny Clampett right now. Her beehive and her false bicuspids are just sending blood through my dick. No need for an ED commercial here. Would you mind leaving the office?”

“Oh, Claude, you say the sexiest things. So you graduated from Northwestern…”

 

Gang, some of you have already commented away and I thank you MIGHTILY for the support and the discussion has been TERRIFIC so far. If ya wanna jump in, have at it. Democracy works, gang. Keep it going so we ALL can breathe.

 

“Wow, Gazoo, you were right. Just put up a few billboards and the next thing you know, the Governor has to call out the Guard on Milford.”

“Yes, yes, my slinky friend. I used the same technique in Bedrock. When I put up a sign that said FRED FLINTSTONE AND MR. SLATE ARE IN A SAME SEX RELATIONSHIP AT THE BEDROCK QUARRY, Barney and Fred were shooting their air-powered rifles at each other in their respective backyards. And Bedrock shared a similar fate with Macchu Pichu.”

“Looks to me like Coach Thorp will get voted out by the survivors and that Kaz will move to West Beverly Hills High School where Dylan Mckay will be his only problem child. And he doesn’t even play basketball.”

“Oh, Coach Thorp is a dum dum. I’ve been telling Dr. Pearl that for years. Maybe now she’ll listen. Want to go for a spin in my UFO? They have a great sushi restaurant on Neptune.”

 

I SHOT COACH SHAW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

signed

http://www.anonymouspsychomegalomaniac.com

 

“I got a run to Salt Lake City and Will’s been driving for 16 hours!!!!!!!!! One intervention at a time!!!!!!!!!!!! You hold off Freddy Krueger and Coach Shaw until I get back, goddammmit!!!!!!!!!”

In Milford It’s Still December

Now we know why story arcs in this strip run longer than their real-life seasonal counterparts. Check out the calendar on the wall behind Kaz; while we’re more than a week into January, in Milford it’s still December.

That’s not the only evidence that Milford is behind the times, even if it’s not quite the “1959 with cell phones” we often describe it as being.  I mean, look, they’re only on Billboard 3.0?  They haven’t even gotten to Billboard 95 or NT?  The rest of the world has been on Billboard 10 for some time now.  Fifteen-year-old Chevy Monte Carlos still ply the roads, their flanks slowly turning into powder.  (Come to think of it, that’s not out of the ordinary in the Upper Midwest.)  Newspapermen still call their bosses “Chief” Jimmy Olsen style, even while grooming their beards, though unlike Perry White the editors in Milford don’t seem to mind.

Is Kaz showing Gil a photo of Billboard 3.0 Kelly sent him, or has he “called up” robbyreport.com?  As Ned alluded to on Monday, none of us here at TWIM have yet to buy robbyreport.com and direct it here (though GoDaddy would be willing to negotiate to have its owner sell it to you – thanks for the update, Ned :-) ), but that would require effort on our parts.  Maybe we should do a GoFundMe? Let us know in the comments.