The Secret Pelwecki’s Other Ball just dropped from the arm of the Oakwood running back, giving the Mudlarks’ sputtering offense a shot at getting back in the game. Leading with his head helped Kevin jar the ball loose, but I’m sure that’s not the way Gil wants to see his quarterback use his head.
Speaking of quarterbacks, new assistant trainer Heather Burns has her own opinions about Milford’s. Could it be that the mediocre soccer player doesn’t want to use Rick Scott to sidle her way to becoming the Mudlarks’ placekicker, but to become their quarterbacks coach? Wasn’t one Bobby Howry enough this decade? Or could it be that she actually wants to become the quarterback herself? By the way, whatever happened to Jarrod Hale?
Pantheon of Hair Dept.: That bowl cut with the keyhole bangs that Whigham is so fond of drawing and that would not look out of place in an Our Gang Comedy.
I mean, I guess they’re in the foreground?
Anyway, Heather kind of sucks at soccer and Coach Dawes is finally opening up about it. It’s definitely a different flavor of Milford jerkiness…
There goes Ken talking about how “our friend died” again. Did we ever see him interact with Boo at any point prior to her death?
Never thought I’d get to use the “Bare Midriffs” tag but there ya go. Neither did I think we’d need an “Exploding Ear Wax Syndrome” tag. Darth Bader appears to be pulling his shirt down over said bare midriff, but the clenched fist and angle of his right hand (not to mention “the same old jerk”) suggest his other, less appealing nickname. He coulrd, of course, be getting ready to call Ken a wanker.
As Master Bader frames the picture, magically changing into a clerical collar, we await his shifting the blame from his father to technology, or the lack thereof.
‘Cause we’ve gone from a BANG! to a BAM!
I’m not gonna play lawyer here and rehash any of the details of Del Bader’s first DUI or the accident that killed Boo Radley. I’ll just say that anything Ken Brown says or does to Barry Bader should go straight from Barry’s lips to Del’s stupid lawyer’s ears…
… that is, once Barry picks his lips up off the floor and gets them sewn back onto his face. It’s fixin’ to be on like Donkey Kong in the Milford locker room; it only remains to be seen who will step in and break up the melee: Gil (yeah, right), Kaz (even money) or (Specialiest Snowflake) True (possibly endangering his post-Milford sports career in the process).
Me, I’m pulling for Barry getting Hang ’em Hiatt recused from Del’s case, if only to add a new wrinkle to this slog.
What kind of gravitational time dilation is happening in Milford, where school is still in regular session on July 16? Have they gone to year-round classes without us knowing? This seems like the kind of crap Hobart might’ve pulled during a closed-door school board session to spite Gil and his ex-wife. In any event, no reason for Gil to tell Barry to slow down – time has slowed enough already.
If Barry (who continues to suffer from alopecia areata and
Braying Jackass Exploding Mouth Syndrome) thought the stupid lawyer cost so much, imagine how much a smart one – one who might have kept Del out of jail – would’ve cost! At least over the next few days we’ll finally get to see what a lot of us thought we should’ve seen at least two weeks ago: Gil offer some kind of counseling to poor, delusional, self-absorbed, father figureless Barry, albeit not necessarily of his own volition.
… dead, Mimi.”
“Aw crap. So much for the playdowns.”
Rubin creates a somewhat sympathetic female character, starts giving her nuance and a third dimension, then kills her off. Discuss.
Minor details dept.: Gil’s delicately arched pinky as he holds the phone (‘ello, guv’nor, it ain’t high tea); James Van Der Beek takes the role of Gil in P3.
Reference for today’s post title:
“I’m drinking alone because… I prefer to be by myself.” Stuff just writes itself.
The last time I checked, the “D” in “DUI” stood for “driving,” not “drinking.” Where Hang ’em Hiatt gets off trying to impose morality on those she adjudicates, I don’t know. She should be directing Del not to drink and drive; if he cabs, Ubers, rides the dog or hitches between Center City and Milford, he can release the hounds all he wants. Just don’t get behind the wheel once he decides to cast his sheets to the wind.
Following up from my comment to yesterday’s post: Which old Republican does Del look like today: Ted Cruz, Tricky Dick, Pat Buchanan, or Simple J. Malarkey? I think we can agree on the source of young Master Bader’s nose. C’mon, Whigham, if Gil Thorp is gonna turn into a strip about drinking with a dash of high school sports thrown in, at least draw some gin blossoms on that schnozz.
Oh yeah, speaking of sports: Boo’s gonna lose that no-hitter; any bets as to how?
Okay, back to drinking: I expect Del to get pulled over and locked up by Saturday. At least by sticking to wine and not the hard stuff, he can stand before Ken Brown’s mom next week and assert the Albert Collins Defense.