The green green grass of December

Whoopee- back to football now that Chet Chit Chat has received his comeuppance, and although the fans in the stands are dressed for near-winter the grass on the gridiron shows no signs of turning brown like every other Midwest-based grass does when the warm air turns cold and the sunlight is much more minimal. Sunlight is very underrated when it comes to grass appearance. In the summer the sun is up  for about 14 – 15 hours a day, plus the light is more direct with its  path starting due east and going directly overhead at noon, providing much more intensity even though its actually farther from the earth in summer then winter. Then it majestically sets due west, taking its time and sqeeezing every bit of its daylight out before dissappearing. Even then its light lingers for a while, and sunset-watching is a fine way to spend a summer evening. By the time its completely dark out, its almost bedtime.

By winter the sun is rising in the southeast, and takes a much more angled approach in the sky as it peaks at just-above- eye level before hurrying down to set in the northwest, its extreme angle explaining why it gets dark so quick this time of year. One minute its broad daylight, then bam- dark. No twilight in December to speak of. I deliver the mail outside in a truck, and believe me, when its 4 o clock I can feel the light just fading away almost immediately and the temperature drop, and my dome light is needed almost every day now. Daylight is our friend these days, because it doesnt stay long.

So the grass feeds off the warm sun and temps, and when those resources dissapate around November,  it loses its green hue and turns brown, preparing itself to survive the cold and dark winter in a frozen ground caused by the much colder night temps; so it can grow again in spring when the warmer air re-awakens its roots. Nature is fun to watch if you pay attention.

So in Milford-land the grass stays green all year round, and the Mudlarks are still celebrating beating tomato cans like Valley Tech, and heading to the Bucket to toast Charlie and Chance for being the 2-headed monster the offense needs in the backfield. Huzzah!!

Because Coach Thorp Won’t Take American Express.

Must we CONTINUE this comedy of errors, now that December is well under way? Is the check going to bounce and we take the whole month before we have sufficient funds in the savings account at Milford State Bank? I know The Joker paid a visit but I thought MSB was a member of FSLIC. Does it have to get approved by the Milford School Board before the financial pipeline reopens?

You better hope that Chet Baker’s card isn’t declined. It might be around The Super Bowl when Chet is able to pay the minimum again. Apparently all those charges he ran up on the photocopier caused the card to go over the limit. He doesn’t pump THAT much gas into his vehicle at the Milford BP.

At the Milford Walgreen’s

“Okay, sympathy card, friendship card, bag of Cheetos, personalized gym bag, Nike sneakers off the clearance table, Dickies work socks-12 pair, your friend’s prescription of atorvastatin from the pharmacy, windbreaker jacket, and Ecco Domani Pinot Grigio in the 1.5 liter bottle. Do you have your ID with you?”

“He’s underaged. I’m his step-dad. Here’s my driver’s license.”

Showing a picture of Chet Baker at 18 when he was beardless. Clerk is stupified momentarily by the transformation from Skeezix to Alley Oop. Clerk recovers nicely.

“That’ll do ‘er. It’s going to be $134.76. Go ahead and slide your card. BTW, is this all for your friend?”

“Everything but the wine, sir.”

“I know what you mean. If I played football for a guy who spends more time at Mr. Wilson’s house than on the footba-Oh, it says your card was declined.”

“Damn, I made an online payment yesterday. After I sent back Chance’s Gibault School records.”

 

After watching College Football scenes involving unsportsmanlike conduct penalties, many were deserved but getting flagged for embracing your school mascot was a bit much, in my view

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O. J. Suspended From Milford Parks & Recreation Adult Flag Football League For One Week!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Just because I hugged my grandma after scoring the winning TD? Cheap call, Man.”

 

Just when we thought we were devoid of Pantheon of Mysterious Objects and the readers who are mystified by them, Thorpiverse would have to inject itself with another dosage of M.C. Escher.

We THINK Charlie’s combo dresser drawer-file cabinet-triplicate safe deposit box (where I would have hidden Chance’s records after jumping from the second story of Milford School Corporation Annex, contraband in tow) is facing towards Chet and Charlie. That would be only logical.

“I’ve told you 3 times the cabinet isn’t parallel with that wall!!!!!!!!!  The window is perpendicular to it!!!!!!!!!!! This isn’t Office Depot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You’re grounded for a week!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And stop calling me ‘Chet’!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And Charlie, if you’re not smart enough to figure out that your step-dad didn’t think you could handle the competition because your STEP-DAD EVIDENTLY COULDN’T HANDLE THE COMPETITION, you need to get off the computer for a season (oops, bad noun, that might take forever, knowwhutImean?) and smell the Folger’s. Geez, no wonder why your Chippendale belongs in the Crazy House of Mirrors at the Milford State Fair.

 

If yore pissed off cuz Milford Guns ‘n’ Ammo won’t accept Amer-ee-cun X-press and yore Milford Guns ‘n’ Ammo Visa Debit card maxxed out and they won’t take yore SNAP card as col-lat-ur-al ta obtain the necessary shells ta shoot a squirrel that’s been hibernatin’ in yore oak tree in the front yard, ya might be a redneck.

 

P2-Boy, are YOU leaving yourself wide open with that question, Chet.

If I were Charlie

“For starters, if you’re going to grow a beard, stop dipping it in the Cool Whip. We had to go the Milford 7-11 on Thanksgiving on an emergency for the 3 pumpkin pies. It’s embarrassing when I have to explain to all my friends why you have an Oreo face.

“He gets that way when there’s no Arm & Hammer in the Lazy Susan.”

After 2 hours of intense negotiations

“And when we play pitch and catch, no more going to Coach Thorp’s garage to borrow the Nerf football.”

“But Gil never use it because he’s too busy being absent because he’s on permanent vacation at the Milford Country Club Golf Course.”

I think there’s some things you can agree to disagree on, Charlie. Union can’t have everything when negotiating with management. Give and take.

“And Chet? Would you like a Certs Peppermint? I have plenty in my paralleogram file cabinet.”

 

Because I was intrigued by a house at the T of the T intersection that was protected by a guard rail, 3 red warning signs, a yellow warning sign with arrows pointing in both directions JUST NOT STRAIGHT TOWARDS THE HOUSE, and some barbed wire as a throw-in

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Barricades House After Near-Miss From A Milford National Guard Training Exercise!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Those saw horses out of Industrial Arts class ought to make those tanks think twice when they approach Jaime and Keri!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

And what would a teenager do with a credit card for a few days?

After Milford FINALLY ends football

CHANCE, WE’RE GOING TO DISNEYWORLD

 

Ooooooookkkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back to restore sanity and hopefully expedite the end of the football process. My money’s on Gene to do so, Gang. Take ‘er away, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought she could use Chet’s Visa card to buy _________________________”

 

So THAT’S what happened to Gil’s Nerf Joe Montana Pigskin Special. An anonymous Mudlark and Stick-Figure Face the Zebra are playing pitch and catch of their own. You get that way when you’re mopping up the competition judging by the caption in P3.

I almost thought it was Valley Tech judging by the language that Jabba the Hutt speaks on the player’s shirt but don’t believe Jabba uses the letter “M”. Jabba the Hutt EATS Mudlarks, doesn’t cheer for them.

What is scary is that after we’ve played Musical Chairs reading Chet’s death knell, P3 may be the extent of the football action in this last game. Anytime I see a referee with a hokey-pokey face (“You put your whole chin in, you pull your whole chin out…”) , I’m not bettin’  the ranch, Gang. Especially when Gil dug a trench all the way around his house. When a tricycle couldn’t cross GDMZ (Gil’s Demilitarized Zone) , it’s time to hang up the cleats on this one after you’ve dug all the mud outta the spikes. Subpar, indeed.

“That ends the 3rd quarter. Nobody knows the score but the script says Milford’s ahead. And we’ll continue this travesty after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a Division of Learfield Sports.”

“Boy, all this whirlwind of non-activity is working me up an appetite. And making me thirsty.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse and don’t you know I have a solution for you.

Right now, the Warehouse is stocking Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage in the refrigerated section. You can’t miss ’em, they’re next to the daiquiri section in Aisle 2. And instead of egg nog, why not sample some Gil Thorp Mild and Meek with your favorite 24-pack like Michelob Ultra, a bargain at 25.99 and for only 2 bucks more, you got that and my sausage guaranteed. Don’t know boutchoo but Michelob Ultra and fruit cake don’t cut it at my Christmas party.

And Woodbridge Chardonnay and Tennessee Pride Hot ‘n’ Spicy when you and your wife are doing candlelight when the kids are at a slumber party. What a way to ruin a romantic evening. I’m not a fan of sausage flambe. Save your candles for some real eatin’.

That’s why my sausage contains no carbotetrafluorophenols. I light a fire under my players’ butts without having to consult the manual at Dow Chemical. And I don’t light my Double Whopper Sausage and Cheese with them. For $8.77, you got the Chardonnay and Cheese Sausage in Paradise.

And I add a chaser of Maker’s Mark Whiskey to my Gil Thorp Fried Italian Sausage and Lunch-on-the-Go is never the same. And to sweeten the pot, for every flask of Maker’s Mark you purchase at $23.99, the Warehouse will throw in a package of Gil Thorp Pure Fried Italian Sausage in the bag. Ya gotta request plastic to validate the deal.

And Mimi knows I dig Captain Morgan’s Rum whenever she’s grillin’ my Sausage Mignon medium-rare. On a Dixie paper plate, drinkin’ and feastin’ couldn’t be finer, especially when I remember that the bottle runs at $19.99. Kowabunga.

Come in and have it your way and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.

Comment away. I’m going to use Chet’s Visa card and hit McD’s. Anybody want anything?

ONE-HORNED

ONE-EYED

FLYIN’

PURPLE PEOPLE EATER

Oh, that’s the referee. Never mind.

“The bad thing is, no one under 40 cares about this strip.”

Reading today’s strip is a lot like buying house brand groceries. The ingredients are the same, the packaging is close enough to fool the casual observer, but when you open the box, pour out the contents then take a bite, something just doesn’t look or taste quite right. Take those teeny tiny backpacks the Milford students are wearing. At son of teenchy’s high school the classes are so far apart, and the time between them so short, that the kids wear expedition size backpacks and lug all of the day’s books and supplies around with them.

Take also Chance and Charlie’s convo. They’re spot on about school board doings – that’s their parents’ deal, not theirs – but their take on the Valley Tech game is more than a bit off. The Mudlarks aren’t gonna make the playdowns, so the only person who’ll be talking about the game will be Marty Moon. Win, and he’ll rag on Gil for underachieving all season; lose, and he’ll rag on Gil for the same old same old. The whole Ballard scandal is what will keep Milford talking long after the pads are put in storage and the last can of Nitrotan is sprayed in someone’s jock.

Finally, take Chet’s sorry-not-sorry apology. I get why Ballard is apologizing to Charlie (that is Charlie, isn’t it? Whigham can’t seem to keep him on model), but shouldn’t he be apologizing to Chance first? Maybe Charlie will tell him that in tomorrow’s strip.  Maybe  he’ll dangle the possibility that he’ll call Chet “Dad” after that, and offer that loser an unwarranted ray of hope. Maybe before it’s all said and done we’ll find out what happened to Chance’s parents. Then again I’m also hoping that any college football team nicknamed “Tigers” or that has a nut for a mascot loses this coming Saturday, but I don’t have my hopes up for that either.

“And Now We Pause for Station Indentification. This Is the Milford Mudlark Radio Network.”

“I would never do something so unprofessional… Oh? Okay, so maybe I did something so unprofessional, but somebody had to think of the children!”  It’s all I can do to keep myself from making a political reference in today’s post. Chet’s denial of wrongdoing immediately followed with an admission of wrongdoing and an attempt to make it about something other than his own self-interest would serve him well in an executive branch position.

Speaking of the executive branch, looks like Marjie’s on the horn to LBJ who may or may not be giving her his pants order. Can’t be Chance Macy’s grandpa, can it? He had more pronounced male pattern baldness last time we saw him. But who else would be saying Chance would be “prepared” for whatever come next? And who’s this “us” Marjie’s referring to? Did she give Superintendent Whatshisname and Captain Man Bun a day to look into this? Just how is Chance getting “prepared”? Does it involve a whetstone?

Now let’s wrap this thing up before Christmas and move on to hoops. Milford’s lost two in the conference so playdowns are out of the picture; we’ve got enough time for a face-saving victory over Valley Tech as Chet Ballard slinks off the school board, out of his marriage, and under the desk at his office. Maybe we can revisit him a couple of years from now, after he’s sent to jail for insurance fraud. The way he sings, he’ll make a great canary.

Much Ado About Turnovers

Well TWIMers, I think we’re justified in pulling this old chestnut back out of the fire. You didn’t have to be in the Houston Astros’ bullpen to see all this coming.

Sure enough, Gil’s poorly prepared Mudlarks collapsed like a house of cards against the Jeffs, Charlie Roh got his touches in garbage time, and pissy Chet Ballard got on the horn to Marty Moon.

Chet’s little prank call to Marjie didn’t put Chance on the bench; what makes him think calling Marty will do the same? That idea is as outdated as the physical inbox on his desk. Only Marty gets on-air digs at Gil; it’s in the call sign after all. Now it remains to be seen just how Moon will hold up the code of omertà he has with Thorp and give Ballard his comeuppance. Hot mike like B/Robby Howry, or something a bit more subtle?

A wee bit of credit where credit’s due: at least Chet didn’t run over or through that stop sign in front of his car while he was dissing Gil. If he had, his next call might have been to Del Bader’s lawyer.

New month. Same old problems

A week after we last played a game the only thing thats changed is the calendar. The Mudlarks are predictably rusty after the layoff that was all about improving Chet Chitchats attitude toward the running of the football team, and he’s still bitching about Gils use of his china doll Charlie Roh. Hey Chet — you are a parent, not a coach. You dont get to decide who plays. This isnt about massaging egos. Its about winning and displaying sportsmanship, neither of which are in evidence here.

P1 looks like the Larks  called a screen pass,  letting the linemen in and throwing over them while the O-line is blocking downfield. But evidently the pass isnt high enough, and is a pick 6. Big deal. But in Milford land we go from that to 30-7. The roof caved in in 1 panel. We take a week to watch Marjie go over the mysterious phone message, then we skip over a 2-hour game in 1 panel. Dont you love the pace of this strip? Consistent as fresh cement.

By the time Chet looks back at the field the players will be back on the bus.

** With all the recent drawings of Marjie I thought I’d see if there were any errors of consistency by the artist. I thought maybe her hair length was longer in a couple panels but not really. But I did find something– Oct 24 she has 2 bracelets on her left wrist walking in to talk to Gil, and Oct 25 she only has a single wristwatch on that left hand. Otherwise she was drawn pretty much the same.

1, 2, 3, KICK THIS PLOT!!!

And we’re off to the races as we are seeing some football after Gil’s wandering 40 weeks in the desert. And with a lot on the line, there is admittedly some excitement building.

But what better way to experience the equivalent of a hangover than to realize Thorpiverse will find a way to rain on Milford 60th Annual Thanksgiving Day Parade. Maybe Bullwinkle will survive as a float. One can hope.

Still, I’m crossing my fingers that all will be well and that there will be no hitches as two giants have it out on the gridiron in the middle of November. If you’re a football fan, especially high school, you can’t ask for a better script, literally and otherwise.

Even if the Jefferson kicker is catapulting his foot in a perpetually clockwise position so the we learn how the formula 2pi × r was invented, I still think we are on the Royal Road to Football Sanity. Let no man ignorant of designing a decent football plot enter these doors.  Plato couldn’t have said it any better.

So the next time you see your grandma imitate Big Ben with her lower appendages while she’s shopping in the Dairy Department at Wal-Mart, faint not. She will learn, eventually, that the whole is equal to the sum of inane plots and greater than any one of them. She’s just got to see the Big Picture when contorting your tibiae to conform to circumference. The game is bigger than your grandma’s butt or legs, hey, I’m not going to pull teeth even if this plot is doing exactly that.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Parade Float Blows Away, Winds Up On O.J.’s Condo Property!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“When I saw it, I’m wonderin’ how did Raggedy Ann land on my Maserati? The helium ruined the timing chain in my car.”

One thing we have learned thus far. Jefferson is displaying Nike’s new line of cleats, the Cycloid Hurricane special. Those cleats come in handy should Tropical Storm Marty ever hit Milford the way it hit the coastline.

And haven’t we had enough geometry for one season? I have seen more polylaterals on a guy’s hi-top Keds in one game than I ever dream existed in my Geometry I textbook in one semester.

“DOUG FLUTIE HEAVES IT!!!!!!!!!!! AND BOSTON COLLEGE WINS ON A MIRACLE CAT-dude, look at those trapezoids on that receiver’s shoes. I didn’t know Pic-Way sold those in burgundy.”

 

If ya win the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Turkey Shoot ‘n’ Scramble at the Milford Conser-va-shun Club cuz yore opponent’s shotgun got disqualified cuz the rules disallow all weaponry, including Bowie knives, from displayin’ green clovers and blue diamonds plus whatever the hell else they cram in the Lucky Charms box at Milford Paper & Box factory, ya might be a redneck.

 

Now don’t let Thorpiverse fool ya. The game is getting interesting which is hoping it will lull the TWIMers into a false sense of security. Does anybody REALLY think the plot calls for Jefferson to run up the score, thereby rendering Bluto Beardsley Ballard essentially useless for future concerns? Yeah, right.

As long as his son gets 334 yards and a couple of nice TD runs, Jefferson could put the 4th string in the 3rd quarter when they’re up 234-21 and you aren’t going to hear a word out of Bluto. Not to us readers, anyway. Maybe to his son, building him up as the next Red Grange. And MAYBE to Gil, saying he sucks as a non-coach. MAYBE.

But as Franku pointed out, there are parents that just want their own little Johnny or Janie to succeed, teamwork be damned. God, I encountered plenty of those in my career.

So anybody wishing to challenge me that Chet will disappear because the plot took the “let the cards fall where they may” route and that fair play will rule even if Jefferson does wind up kicking Milford’s ass, albeit not by a ridiculous score mentioned above, boy, do I have some shopping baskets from Milford Beverage Warehouse to sell ya cheap. You can always put your marigolds in there when you’re not shopping for vodka and Chee-tos.

The score will be dictated by where Bluto fits in the scheme of things. Yup, he not only evidently has the School Board wrapped around his finger and the Superintendent as a drinking buddy, he’s also twisting the plotline’s arm.

Buy hey, he can always spare a shopping basket for the Superintendent to store his vacation photos when the latter and his wife went to the Cayman Islands from the trip they won on Wheel of Fortune.

“So tell us a little about yourself.”

“I’m a spineless school official who handles brutes with fleas in their beards and a heavy dose of B.O. in order to keep the education process functional.”

“Wow, that must keep you busy.”

 

Gang, any of you Georgia Wrestling on WTBS remember The Fabulous Free Birds, a tag team duo that predictably had “Free as a Bird” by Lynyrd Skynyrd as their mantra when they were introduced? Naturally, they were the good guys and Gordon Solie, the off-gravelly-voiced announcer for years, did his part to build them up.

Not surprisingly, they had a falling out, the way the script many times played out in these things, no doubt taking a cue from Thorpiverse. Anyway, Michael Hays stayed the Good Guy and Terry Gordy became the Bad Guy, calling himself the Dirty White Boy (Foreigner played the song, in case anyone wants to know) and flashing his pillowy gut, sexy in a strange way, every chance he got.

Well, of course, Michael Hays always got a round of applause every time he came out to interview but just about every time he did, Gordy and some flunkee would drag him in the ring and rub his face in the mat. It was entertaining see the different Revlon colors on his cheek every week and many times it caused continuity errors by being on the wrong cheek. Then there were times someone used a charcoal pencil and did graffiti all over his face. They really wanted to get the fans in the 3-row stands in a frenzy over Gordy. Even if they had to use Magic Markers to make his injuries look authentic.

It worked. And the crowd of course cheered on Hays every time he literally got his nose rubbed in it and the Omni, where they wrestled when the Atlanta Hawks were oit of town, was always sold out for this. As Ron Hudspeth, a well-respected newspaper writer for the Atlanta Constitution once said, you can fool some of the people most of tge time.

So when I saw P2 today, I was wondering if that was Gordy doing a number on Tiki Jansen. If Tiki shows up in the cafeteria with Cover Girl Rouge on his face, my suspicions are confirmed.

 

Early one morning on WDIG-TV

“Okayyyyyyyy, Boys and Girls, how many of you want to win free Mudlar-K-Cola Chocolate Fudge Fizz in the 6-Pack Kiddie Size for life?”

YAAAAYYYYYYYYYYYYY

“Well, if you do a cannon ball in that kiddie pool of piranhas and don’t get eaten-”

“Bozo, what happened to your face? You got scrapes all over it.”

“Oh that? Well, some mean man with a belly that’s been bathing in Twinkies too long did a really bad thing. But don’t worry, he’ll get what’s coming to him this Friday at the Milford Gardens.”

“Can we come?”

“Well, Boys and Girls, the only way to get tickets is if you stick your head in that lion’s mouth. Now don’t worry, we pulled out his teeth before the show.”

 

Yesterday’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Snoopy Stuck In Sycamore Tree At Milford Country Club Golf Course.”

sub headline

“Golf Pro at MCC: ‘Why couldn’t they have moved the parade to Christmas? We had to move back our Annual Black Friday Golf Shootout-Shotgun Start. We’ll never get Snoopy out before the Mayor does the honorary tee-off.”

 

“Uhhhhhhhh, Bozo, I understand youuuuu have a match with a one Terry Gordy this coming Friday indeed. Care to elaborate?”

“That’s right, Gordon. Friday night, 8:00 P.M. at the Milford Gardens will be a date with destiny. Yeah, Gordy, I saw what you did with Tiki Jansen. Yeah, you thought it was pretty funny when Gil finally did SOMETHING and wiped that tire tread mark off with sandpaper but-”

“Son, it don’t matter where we do our rasslin, ya got the time, I got the muscle ta take you or any of yore other yellow-bellied clowns at the Milford Gardens, Gil’s garage, the Mudlark Girls Gym, wherever-”

“Now hold on, Terry, you’ll get your chance to interview. Folks, we need to take a station break indeed…”

 

Now you have to admit, if P3 is any indication, that we’re in for a doozy of a ball game, even by Thorpiverse’s molasses-sluggish standards. The Jefferson runner in his Howard Twilley Quadrilateral Nike Specials prove that.

It just gets tainted by that connect-the-dot skyline in the background. I mean, really, if I were to use my #2 pencil, the spare I didn’t use at the Milford High School SAT Testing site, I might unfortunately find out that Ursa Major is really a conglomerate of Gil in his shower cap after he had just gotten out of the shower using Head & Shoulders, when all the stars are accounted for? Oops, I forgot Polaris. I wouldn’t anybody to know Gil has hair but no forehead. Well, that’s pretty much the case but that’s supposed to magically reappear if you’ve faithfully been following the pattern in sequence with your #2.

In the end, someone on the Mudlarks surely has Twilleys of his own to keep the score honest. Maybe ones with a frustum?

 

“We’re here, uhhhhhhhhh, talking with Michael Hays and Tiki Jansen. Gentlemen, your visages are not in their proper conditions indeed. Tiki, I understand you’re, uhhhhhh, not too thrilled after Mr. Gordy rubbed your face in the gridiron especially when a one Gil Thorp just stood back and watched.”

“That’s right, Gordon, and Friday night, 8:30 at The Milford Gardens, me and my partner here are going to be taking care of some business. Gil and Terry, you may think this white powder on my face, the kind you line the field with before the game is funny but me and Michael Hays will have the last laugh.”

“Preach it, Tiki. Cuz y’all been flappin’ our jaws about how your gonna run us out of Milford. Well, this Friday, this lipstick on my cheek is gonna come off and it’s gonna go right back on you. Gil, you’re gonna look funny with Maybelline in your hair and on your face.”

Tiki and Michael Hays leave, the 3-row seat audience on WDIG-TV in a lather

“Formidable words, indeed. We’ll be right back after these messages. Don’t go away.”

 

“Man, all this football and rasslin’ is making me dizzy. Of course, you know that stuff’s all fake and I would never hurt Tiki in a million years. I might still stand on the sidelines with my thumb up my ass but I personally witnessed Michael Hays get his scratch mark stenciled in. They had to use Crayolas on Tiki.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse and boy do we have some colorful selections. This coach is going to get a case of Corona Extra in the six-pack variety after this match, er, game, win, lose, or default. And he’s only going to be forking over $7.49. Hey, that’s what happens when you save up all that loose change from the Teacher Retirement Fund and store it in your Sun Tea Jumbo Jar.

And Skrewball Peanut Butter Whiskey? Choosy moms choose this bad boy to unwind after a long day of grocery shopping for the slumber party for the kids this weekend. No Jif is necessary here and it’s a steal at $28.99.

And The Warehouse has some great news. It is opening up its own gas station, right behind the Milford Foundry. Now you can get your booze and a fill-up practically in the same spot. Just head down a few hundred feet and the nozzle is as good as you drinking up The Good Life.

And with a purchase of Budweiser Black Lager, $10.49 by my count, you can earn fuel points when you’re on the go. Just hand the receipt to the clerk in the window and watch the gallons rack up, even on the diesel pump. B truck drivers couldn’t ask for any better.

And you quiche-eating namby-pambies are in for a treat. With a purchase of Josh Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon at $15.99, you not only are robbing the store but you’ll be robbing the pumps with a free fill-up. Lexus, Dodge Ram pickup, Mopeds, whatever vehicle you used to maneuver to the Warehouse, it all pumps thesame when you use those fuel points like a Snickers bar. Man, that’s some good eatin’.

Folks, bring the whole family down here where you can get your Michelob Ultra to hoist along on your next family outing at Mudlark Lake and still watch the kids pump the gas. Sounds like Quality Time to me. Start your own Fuel Points ledger and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Thank you for your patience, Gang. You all mean everything to me. Our TWIMers are great human beings as well as great commentators. Great combination.

 

CUZ I’M A DIRTY WHITE BOY

 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Gil, head to the Clinic. They have extended for Christmas.”

“Didn’t Foreigner do Cold as Ice?” Gil sings

YOU’RE WILLING TO SACRIFICE OUR LOVE

“Get your butt to The Clinic, Gil.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

You’ve Got a Friend in Thorpsylvania

Having enlisted Niah Peters (who has a Twitter feed if nothing else) to join Gil’s little Clue Club, Marjie Ducey now seeks to expand its ranks by having Niah dime on Chet Ballard’s “friend” on the school board. Presumably that’s the aforementioned Carol, who really hasn’t acted very friendly toward Chet. I guess offering advice to mind his own business instead of immediately ratting him out to the rest of the school board qualifies as friendship in the high-stakes world of school administration.

Having freed himself of the burden of confronting anyone directly, Gil can finally turn attention back to his day job… coaching sportsball. Gil’s been spending so much time sleuthing that he’s forgotten about preparing his amazingly one-loss Mudlarks for their upcoming tilt against Jefferson. That lack of preparation should lead to a blowout loss at the hands of the Jeffs, which will serve Gil twofold:

1. The loss will eliminate Milford from the playdowns, keeping Gil from having to prep for football and basketball concurrently;
2. With the game out of reach, he can give Charlie Roh plenty of touches in garbage time, then wait to overhear more of Ballard’s self-incriminating postgame babble to his stepson.

Join us tomorrow for another episode of Gil Thorp Mysteries. Maybe Gil will have recruited a wisecracking ghost and an anthropomorphic animal or two into his posse by then.