Elephant? What Elephant? In This Room?

Drinking my Maxwell House one day, puttin’ the vinyl “Double Fantasy” on the turntable

 

People say it’s silly

Lost and confused

 

TWIMers think it’s messy

Blowing my fuse

 

When Chet exclaims with a straight beard

That Dumbo’s not around

I flip a coin between Gil and Chet

For who’s the bigger clown

 

I’m just sittin’ here watchin’ this plot spin ’round ‘n’ ’round

I really loathe this cruddy show

 

May we depart this hopeless merry-go-round

We just got to let it go

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Bruce Wayne Is Removed As A Suspect In Batman Case!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford Transportation Board spokesman said that Batmobile required a B License Endorsement, something not presently in Mr. Wayne’s possession.”

 

Okay, let me first throw my hat in the ring on the legitimate comments by our TWIMers in relation to education and the newspapers.

It has been my experience that the bigger cities (100,000 or more) are able to sustain a newspaper with its own education reporter. My own city I grew up in, which was in the category I mentioned above, has had for several years and currently has a beat writer covering the news pertaining to schools in the area.

The problem I personally am encountering here is, based on my experiences with reading Gil Thorp (“More fun than a barrel of monkeys”) , Milford is about the size of, say, Vincennes, Indiana or Henderson, Kentucky, 2 cities able to sustain a Wal-Mart and possibly a Kohl’s or Home Depot but still only capable of supporting one public high school and occasionally, as in Vincennes’ case, a private high school, Rivet (Rih-VAY), a Catholic High School.

Therefore, it’s dicey whether the Small Town Gazette is going to carry it’s own education section or have the financial resources to support a reporter in a specialized field like education. Anything’s possible but again too dicey for me.

But this is Thorpiverse and anytime you can get a beat writer like Niah Peters in this case to sit on the upper left-hand drawer when it’s locked shut and discuss with “We’re unclear whether she’s the de facto editor” Ducey about the rhino that escaped Milford Petting Zoo, the logic I mentioned above might as well get thrown in the big pot at Milford High School cafeteria along with the other ingredients in the 12 cans of Campbell’s Chunky Vegetable. Use a spoon, you’ll want to get every drop.

And WHO ELSE do you go to if you suspect a problem? I always thought that’s what School Board meetings are for. If there’s a strong suspicion (and this one’s arm pits are smellin’ PRETTY STRONG) that someone’s not on the up-and-up, what else CAN YOU DO? If the rhino is not in the petting area with the rest of the lambs and goats to feed a bottle of formula, do you go to Bozo the Pope and tell him a rhino is NOT in the room with the elephant? I always thought that’s what a zoo director is for. But let me cross-reference my sources. I’ll get back with you on that one.

Then there’s Janis Ian talking to someone with a neo-Jefferson Airplane hairdo-OH THAT’S MARJIE “SCOOP” DUCEY-about the possible repercussions should they challenge Chet to a toro fight at Milford Municipal Bull Ring. I think the gist of the conversation is that el toreador would be flattened by Big Butt Ballard, beard and all, should they go the procedural route. Okay, okay, I know some of you hoity-toitys out there think they shouldn’t ignore protocol and you might have a point.

But I gotta be fair about this and I am therefore enlisting the aid of Dragnet once again to see if we can resolve this one.

1:29PM. It was cool in Milford. The city had just been hit with snow flurries that tapered off right in line with our investigation. Bill and I were transferered over to the Recreational and Athletic Suspicious and Unwarranted Activity Division of the Juvenile Delinquent Department. The boss is Captain Peters.

We were advised to be on the alert for occurences at the Milford football games in relation to a one Chet Ballard. He was believed to be harboring dirty laundry and illegal records pertaining to one of his stepson’s teammates, Chance Macy. Witnesses said they saw him loading that stuff with a spade shovel in his trunk. We could nail him on Milford Penal Code Section 34 Article 9 Clause 103 “Illegal and Unlawful Work-Related Incidents with Intent to Self-Promote Family and Self, Including Domesticated Animals in Household” but without a search warrant, the only other way we could get him to open his trunk and display the spare records and spare tire was if he lost his key and asked me and Bill for a crowbar. The investigation was running colder than a Bucket Slushee.

Captain Peters suggested I talk to the School Superintendent. A fair proposition. One problem. While conversing with him and Gil down at the Milford Lounge, he informed me (the superintendent, not Gil) that this was out of his bailiwick. His job was to make sure the cafeteria ladies at Milford High had plenty of Handi-Wipes when handling the cheeseburgers so kids wouldn’t contract E. Coli or procure slaughterballs for gym class at Milford Elementary out of the catalogue of Classroom Paraphenalia. Fighting a guy whose razor had seen better days and was now shaving cow hairs for better milk production was not his cup of tea or the flask of Jack he was imbibing. The superintendent wasn’t going to get his retirement doing the right thing even if a sleazeball knew how to work the system the way he maneuvered his Trac II.

“Bill, let’s go get something to eat.”

“What about the case?”

“Hopeless. I could run him out of town on a Section 97 “Unwarranted and Illegal Entry into Public Building” but he could say he was in the Milford School Corporation Annex because his diarrhea medicine was kicking in and the Milford Park Public Unisex House was shut down for the season.”

“Back to square one, aren’t we?”

“Looks that way.”

“I heard the Superintendent tips pretty good at Milford Lounge, I’ll say that for him.”

“We could use some tips from him, all right”

Obligatory somber Dragnet music pipes in

 

Yesterday’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Cleared In Batman Case!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I asked the judge if he could see me in my blue Fruit of the Loom’s fightin’ The Riddler. I think that was the turning point.”

 

People say it’s stupid

Lacking a clue

 

TWIMers call it tepid

Ridiculous too

 

When the hippo dances with the crocs

And crush the furniture

Because nobody bothers to duly note

Chet’s self-imprimatur

 

We’re just sittin’ here watchin’ this plot drag ’round ‘n’ ’round

We’re gettin’ dizzy from all the snow

No need to further prod this merry-go-round

Why don’t we let it go.

 

THE HAND IS BACK

 

You Dark Shadows junkies like yours truly know exactly what I’m talking about.

And what a bad time for it to return, participating in a meaningless and pointless discussion that really shouldn’t be on the agenda in the first place. Heck, send The Hand to scare the living daylights out of Chet like it did us Shadows junkies, otherwise, it might as well be doing Karaoke in P2

At 2:34 A.M. in Chet’s bedroom

“You were always on my minddddddddd-”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA, GIL, I KNOW IT’S LATE BUT I CONFESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I POCKMARKED CHANCE MACY’S TRANSCRIPTS SO CHARLIE COULD START AT RUNNING BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE REALLY DIDN’T FLUNK ‘METALS FOR LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENTS’ OR ‘ADVANCE LATIN’!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUST GET IT AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“Who was that?”

Gil half-asleep

“I think it was Chet. Something about Chance not getting a D- in Geometry 2 because some hand was grabbing his butt and giving him a wedgie.”

 

Well, if anybody has a better suggestion…

Otherwise, we can always call The Orkin Man as long as we’re going to eliminate valid options. The School Board room is going to look silly because it has personnel either on the School Board or in the Administration Building not willing to observe proper practices because it’s overthinking and overlooking the obvious, along with our cub reporters, but the room will be roach-free. I think that’s an even trade-off.

 

And as for P3, Mr. Lennon proves a song is worth a thousand words

People say it’s cheesy

Got bad reviews

 

TWIMers hate the premise

Yesterday’s news

 

When we fear a gutless myrmidon

With scruples in his beard

School Board regulations

Go the way of a rabic steer

 

We’re just sittin’ here watchin’ this tripe fling ’round ‘n’ ’round

We really hate the rigamarole

Why don’t we cease and switch to basketball

We just have to let it roll

 

WE JUST HAVE TOOOOOOOOOOO LET IT ROLL

Got message?

 

Because I’m a Classic Rock fan who saw Hard Rock in an ad but learned that they were referring to a man’s Erectile Dysfunction and the healing powers thereof

In the basement den late one night, the door double-locked, Coach Shaw blasting The Who

“Honnneeeeyyyyyyy, My ears are scorched and so are my flashes. It’s time to come to beddy bye and have some funnnnnnnnnnn.”

“Not now, Mrs. Shaw, I’m practicing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Honey, What are you breaking? I hope it’s not the Chippendale chair that belonged to my grandfather.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Shaw, I have a vise grip that’s holding all these light bulbs I bought at McShane’s Hardware. I’m pretendin’ I’m Pete Townshend and I’m doing a killer windmill with this ukulele, when I’m not smashing it to bits…

LONG LIVE ROCK, I NEED IT EVERY NIGHT

LONG LIVE ROCK

BE DEAD OR ALIVE

 

“Darling, we can do ‘Live at Leeds’ another time. Why don’t you Rock ‘n’ Roll with me?”

“Just when Won’t Get Fooled Again’ s on the turntable? How can you profane a classic like Who’s Next? Heck, I’m doing the part where Keith’s taking a leak at Stonehenge or wherever they hauled that rock from.”

I’LL TIP MY HAT TO THE NEW CONSTITUTION

TAKE A BOW FOR THE NEW REVOLUTION

 

SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Them GE 100-Watt Heat Lamp bulbs will never know what hit ’em with me and Pete smashin’ ’em like overripe pumpkins. Ain’t that the name of a group?”

“Overripe Pumpkins?”

“I thought it was Smashing Cantaloupes”

“Dear, at any rate, at least Loony Moonie dropped his pants on the album cover.”

SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Excusez-moi, Mrs. Shaw, but Roger and me just conked out a lava lamp while twirling our mikes. We’ll clean up the mess later.”

WHY SHOULD I CARE IF I HAVE TO

CUT MY HAIR

I’VE GOT TO MOVE WITH THE FASHION

OR BE OUTCAST

I KNOW I SHOULD FIGHT BUT MY OLD MAN

IS REALLY ALL RIGHT

AND I’M STILL LIVING AT HOME EVEN THO

IT WON’T LAST

“Honey, you won’t be living at home much longer either if you don’t perform a windmill on me.”

SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Just when Quadrophenia is heating up!!!!!!!!!!! And I got some Gorilla-Gro that I applied on my chest so I can have a sexy front like Roger. King Kong twirling a mike to The Punk and The Godfather will drive even the teeny-boppers for Frankie wild. And damn, I thought the Overture would never end. Kinda like the game the other day.”

IF YOU COMPLAIN, YOU DISAPPEAR

JUST LIKE THE LESBIANS AND QUEERS

Coach Shaw blowing on song flute in a well-intentioned attempt to imitate Entwistle’s French horn interlude

YOU’LL START DANCING

 

SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Shit!!!!!!!!!!!!! I smashed my trophy case!!!!!!! Hope the antlers are OK!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“I had to learn the meaning of Hard Rock the hard way. And when my Significant Other was lamer than a dead snake in our back yard, no matter how many windmills I did, I knew it was time to come clean and get my butt down to Milford Men’s Clinic. With proven traetments and proper medication, I can now whip myself in a frenzy from Baba O’Riley and my wife is caught up in the whirlwind and lovin’ it. Isn’t it time you and Pete laid down your guitar and checked in? Your concerts will truly be hard as Rock. Only at The Clinic.”

 

Gang, thank you SO MUCH for your patience. Trying to work this blog in while juggling my new job is a challenge but as Coach Stuard taught me, you learn to get around it. I am thankful for loyal and patient readers like you TWIMers. God bless you all.

 

“IbelieveinMIRACLES

Where you from

You sexy thing-”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Gil, did you forget to go to The Clinic again???”

Turns off Hitachi Sound System in his office

“They were closed for the holiday.”

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Shaw Banned For Life From Milford Holiday Inn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Local resident drove the family station wagon into the swimming pool.”

Disappearing Into The Science Fiction Time Loop

The notion that Charlie would vaguely remember a kid in another second grade class who transferred the next year nearly ten years later when the kid transferred back into the district strains credulity. These oblique and dilatory plot setups are easily the most frustrating part of reading this strip. Don’t show, don’t tell, only vaguely and irregularly allude to is one sort of storytelling structure I suppose. That this is all centered around a brand new character when the whole Tiki Jansen fiasco would’ve served the dramatic purposes of the current arc is all the more frustrating.

Frankly, Chet’s suggestion is more interesting than whatever desultory denouement we are likely to be treated to at the truncated termination of this Fall’s football foofaraw.

Bonus point: That the leaves are still falling while Chet and Charlie are clearly done raking for the day.

Minus point: Of the Milford villains we’ve been exposed to in the thirteen (!) years this blog has been running, Chet is easily the least interesting. I welcome the commenters to prove me wrong should any of you be so motivated.

Raking Leaves In The Afternoon With Chet Ballard And Stepson Charlie

We rejoin the scene at the Ballard-Roh house where Chet Ballard continues his oppo research on Chance Macy.

What’s this? Was Chance Macy held back a year at some point in elementary school? Quick, Chet! To the School Board Computer! What juicy dirt for the Macy Dossier lurks there?

Do you think Charlie is starting to sense what’s motivating all these questions about Chance Macy? I wonder, but it’s possible that the circumstances that brought him and his mother to live under Chet’s roof* are all an intractable tangle of inscrutable adult behavior, and he’s not interested in knowing what makes Chet Chet.

Let’s enjoy the dappled Autumn hues that the colorists have given us. We don’t really have Autumn in my neck of the woods. All of my leaf raking is boring, brownish oak leaves. I use a leaf rake. Chet prefers a garden rake. I don’t get it. Maybe Whigham didn’t want to draw just one kind of rake.

*It’s also possible or maybe likely that Chet moved into the Roh place. Chet does have a dumpy apartment vibe to him.

 

Maybe that pissiness would be better channeled into helping your kid rake leaves.

Late start to the day as yhs stayed up late last night to watch Game 1 of the NLCS. With a DeJong and a Bader in one lineup and a Soto in the other, I was getting a very Milfordian vibe. There were no nosy-assed, pushy players’ parents/school board members or hidden backstories (well, one team’s relief pitcher did miss the game on paternity leave) and the announcers didn’t seem like particular homers for either team, so I guess the similarities ended there.

But I digress, mainly because I feel like we’ve trod this well-trodden trail before. Having a player’s past anger management issues thrown up in his face has been done, and the outcome was resolved to the player’s benefit. The difference here is that it wasn’t one of Van Auken’s teammate’s parents throwing his past anger management issues up in his face in an effort to get him benched (or worse) in favor of their less-talented stepchild. News flash, Ballard: these shenanigans won’t guarantee Charlie will start over Chance, they won’t make your stepson a better player, and they sure as hell won’t get him to stop calling you “Chet.”

Oh Whats the difference?!

We finally get through a football game and now we have to slog through days of madness levels. Chance comes up with a new definition, and us readers are subjected to nonsense conditions made up on the spot, and then Chet somehow overhears the convo and wonders what the nonsense condition Means??

I’m convinced everyone in this strip is an idiot. Coaches dont know how to coach, players dont have a clue where theyre going or what theyre saying, trainers diagnose and treat injuries improperly, parents are either boobs or control freaks, the reporter only cares about lineups, asks gossipy questions  and never does any in-depth reporting, the radio guy uses outdated equipment and has irrational fears, , and the police are never around until the damage is done.

Did I forget anyone? Oh yeah, the janitor. He does a great job. Thats it.

Dog Days of summer

 

 

 

 

 

Well now we know the reason that Hadley and JC were brought back into our strip existence.. so a guy that should also be in our rear view mirror can go to Milford instead of New Thayer  (hey by the way, whens the last time we saw NT on anyones schedule?)

So now the engaged couple are bouncing around everyones  living room (Coming Soon to a couch near you— High Priced Lawyer and her co-star, Bald Bull! Tickets Now Available!) and as far as I’m concerned, meddling in everyones business. How the hell does Tiki know who either of these characters are who just showed up at his front door? He was in a crib eating Gerber when these two were in high school. Isnt it enough to have dinner with 4 different people in 2 nights, no you have to set up a coffee discussion with some kid who doesnt even know what district he lives in. But he did last year. Some townships are known to re-draw their district lines (or in Chicago they are called precincts) so its oh, possible this could happen, but in real life Tiki would know long before now about this. Because if he changed districts, I’m sure Gils cornerback did too, or his backup fullback who he needs to kick a field goal in Week 4, or some other mope on his bench who will play Saturday Hero one day. But its Tiki Jansen we’re stuck with for this story.

And Hadley.

And… Bald Bull.

Wake me up when September ends…

 

 

 

I’m firing that pig!

Well so much for Animal Farm being a difference maker in this storyline. That pig must be rolling his eyes as he rolls in the mud reading this strip. We’re back down that long slippery slope to nothing. Its so bad you wonder whether this strip was intended to run a week ago, before the book assignment. And Rubin forgot about it and is just now running it, so out of sequence is the mindset of the characters. Maybe Molly threw in the towel about her synchronized skating  (and for that matter the softball team) and is just enjoying her role in life as the president of the Tool Cool Club. Who the hell is this committee anyway? I cant believe any high school male would get that excited about getting a button like that. And does Tyler even know about this TC shit? His first question should be — ‘What committee?’

Even Molly’s logic is flawed. Hey — writing screenplays is a BYPRODUCT of ones education, just like doing a science project is a byproduct of getting schooled in science and Applying that knowledge. So it aint too cool for school. TC buttons should go to kids who are so cocky they dont want to learn whats being taught and put the effort into the process. These 2 guys dont qualify at all– but Molly is such a fuckin dimwit she cant tell the difference. And she ordered more badges– I know the first batch was 50, so we will have 100 Milford students walking around campus on June 10 when everyone else is working on their summer tan, with these silly things that will be forgotton as soon as the next storyline commences. As some Spanish guy said -De Sooner De Better.

Women Not At Work

Speaking of Australia, the group “Men at Work” was the inspiration behind today’s title, as some of you might have surmised.

And why not? The plot has gone from bad to hopeless. Not only did Linda Carr blow the game, with help from Molly Wonka and the Chocolate Button Factory, through their myopic view of teamwork, BUT NOW Mimi is handing her her luggage at the check-out gate.

Gang, as Robmize mentioned, nobody more than me believes in giving EVERYBODY a chance to play more than me, regardless of ability. Lordy, the run-ins I’ve had with churches, regardless of denomination (ALL GUILTY, none left out, trust me) , over the years because what they SAY about people getting a chance to play and what they DO are 2 different things.

That said (as far as I’m going with the church concept, in other words) , as long as a kid gave me 110% effort and tried to listen to what I ask, to the best of their ability, especially in Babe Ruth League Baseball, I shook the dude’s hand at the end of the game. That simple.

But handing Linda her Samsonite after a half-ass performance on the field is just the culmination of a Button Crusade gone awry. The pilot and the co-pilot crash-land the plane into a field somewhere, right on a pile of crushed automobiles because they couldn’t flush their petty differences down the airplane potty (plenty of room to dump doo doo like that, y’know) ? I hope the plane was insured.

Mimi, really, it’s called TEAMWORK. Rather than be a concierge for Milford Marriott Courtyard Suites in P1, why don’t you TAKE CHARGE and basically not tolerate this obvious breach of concern for the team? Because she’s hoppin’ on the next 747 and God knows where that’s going. Oh, Australia, I forgot. There’a convention in Brisbane. She’s the keynote speaker. How to Let Problems Affect You During The Game Rather Than Talk Them Out BEFORE First Pitch. I’ll catch the next flight out of Indianapolis so I can get an early seat.

 

This Memorial Day week, I would like to remember Leonard Thomas Hardin, my grandfather, who was a World War I veteran serving valiantly as a cook. A finer man cannot be found when it came to his services and sacrifices.

Then I would like to remember my step-father, Gabriel Feltner, Junior, a World War II veteran who proudly served in the Navy aboard the USS Merryvale. He fought in essentially 2 Iwo Jimas and received a generous GI Bill for his services. No argument from me.

Gang, where you can, take 5 minutes out of your day to thank a Veteran. If you can’t do that or are comfortable doing it differently, fine by me, but please, please, thank a Vet. They appreciate it so much and it makes our Nation stronger.

 

“Just stick the portmanteau on the bed. I’ll unpack later. Right now, I gotta take a bodacious dump. Here’s a fin for your troubles.”

“Gee, thanks, I can pay my AAA bill for the month. The John Conti packets are by the Mr. Coffee. Water is straight outta the faucet next to them.”

“Thank you.”

 

Oh, cry me a river in P2. So she blows the game because she didn’t care because she’s stuck with a U-17 Basketball squad that won’t be selected in next month’s NBA Draft? And they’re all from Uruguay? Yeah, travel can be kinda dicey between Montevideo and La Guardia this time of year. Can’t book a flight too early.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with dreaming big. This is America. But ya still gotta take care of business where you’re planted, something that wasn’t done against Madisom.

Really, if you don’t make the plays in Rockville, either cuz you can’t or won’t, and won’t seems to be the order of the day in the eyes of Pennywise the Clown, to whom Linda is spilling her guts to, what makes you think you’re gonna make ’em when they light the Olympic Torch? What are you going to do, pull some Matchlite Fluid out of your bra when the Torch doesn’t catch flame from your Zippo??? Not the time to be handing you your Samsonite.

 

Because I was taken a little aback by a headline about Felix Cavaliere, a member of the Young Rascals which basically stated “Felix Tells All!!!!!!!”, something that was startling but more than likely not earth-shattering, given their popularity with “Groovin'”, “Good Lovin'”, “How Can I Be Sure”, plus they were not noted for heavy controversy

Today’s headline from the Milford Enquirer

“Several In ICU After Rioting At The Milford Amphitheater For ‘The Mitch Miller Nostalgia Lane Tour de Brasilia ’19’ Rears Ugly Head!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Consternation traced to a few senior citizen couples going overboard while dancing to ‘Yellow Rose of Texas’.”

 

“I can jump higher than the water fountain!!!!!!!! I deserve another chance!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m going downstairs to the breakfast room and try to catch the Olympic Track coach before he leaves!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“You better watch your Lucky Charms intake, Sluggo, or you’ll have trouble getting over the water sprinkler!!!!!!!! And watch that flab, it almost took my nose off!!!!!!!!!”

“SHUT UP, FATS, don’t make me go psycho when I can clear the St. Louis Arch!!!!!!!!!

“Oh, sure, Sluggo, and the Eiffel Tower’s down the street, next to The Bucket Annex. Don’t strain an Achilles soaring the heights.”

“SHUT UP FATS!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hey, you’re the one stuck with Men at Work at the track complex. Not my problem, Sluggo.”

 

Who can it be, messing up this plot.

Linda and Molly

Let it go down the pot

 

Who can they be now

Who can they be now

Who can they be now

 

I’ll fax Men at Work for the answer.

 

If ya dropped out of the Monday Night Co-Ed Industrial League, giving the Milford Foundry softball manager 2 weeks notice so he could buy some time to find a suitable replacement that can bat opposite-handed (hittin’ over the short porch in right field a bonus) and can still field cuz ya wanna concentrate on makin’ the U.S. Olympic Bowling team by takin’ extra practice, and Bud, down at Milford Lanes, ya might be a redneck.

Then there’s Gil. Yup, fresh out of the oven, ready with the bon mot to a question the TWIMers have answered the last few days.

(Sigh) Okay, so we’ll listen to Gil’s opinion but we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to find out what’s behind Door #3. In the end, I’ll cart of the GE Washer and Dryer that Carol Merrill is showing in Door #2.

 

 

 

 

 

Y’know, I just got wheelchaired out of Milford General, glad to have been released from the COPD machine monitoring your a-fib, among other afflictions that are too Greek or Latin to air over the radio, here in the parking lot ready to drive home when I hear The Bucket accusing the Milford Beverage Warehouse of profiteering off of the riding horse, Bronco Buckweiser, a service we provide for the kiddies up front while Daddy goes trottin’ off for his own share of The Good Life. For a penny, boys and girls have ridden on their own adventures and enabled customers to walk out of the store able to ride off into the sunset with girlie and a 24-pack of Bud in the same saddle.

Boy, the fill line some attornies will stoop to in order to get a Liquor License. The Bucket claimed we are raising our price at the horsey to a quarter to offset the Alcohol Transport Tax passed by the Milford City Works Commission, thereby keeping The Beer Institute of our backs. Boy, they’ve been taken for a ride all right and that one is worth more than a copper, several times over. At least, Bronco Buckweiser stops jumping up and down when your little Johnny or Janey is ready to get off. The other horse might wind up in court.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp here on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse, ready to set the record straight. Bronco Buckweiser is not for sale, except to The Brady Bunch and any kid thereafter and forthwith, and the damn contraption still costs a penny. I know, my son got one from the bums pitchin’ Lincolns in the alley in exchange for my son’s Joe Schlabotnick card that my son swiped out of Charlie Brown’s back pocket. Yeah, I’ll admit it was awful for my son to crush Charlie Brown’s idol but at least later on he went to Charlie Brown’s slumber party. They kissed and made up with no fondling involved. My kid’s rear end was unblemished from any seizures.

Can’t say the same for these cads who opt to play post office with a kid’s ride and to answer the ante to such debauched tomfoolery, The Warehouse is ridin’ to the rescue with these thirst-quenching price stoppers.

How ’bout a 24-Pack Michelob Ultra for $22.99, good at your next cookout with family and friends or if you want to engineer a slumber party of your own at, say the Milford Community Center gym? You can invite men AND women, in case anybody calls the cops on on unfounded suspicions and save a buck or two. Hell, I’ll run a nudist colony at the Community Center at those prices.

Then we have Samuel Adams in the 12-Pack for only $14.76 while a 12-Pack of Heineken can get through the Door Greeter’s merchandise checker’s radar for a steal at $13.53. Hooooeeeeyy, thank God the checker gun’s AAA batteries last longer than the Energizer Bunny.

Planning on watching the races and doin’ the OTB to boot? No problemo, The Warehouse is offering free cell phones for every Bulleit Bourbon purchased. Gotta have a phone handy while you’re sippin’ some of Kentucky’s finest, don’t you? You can do all that and still do a cannonball in your swimming pool. Man, makes me want to wheelchair to your party. Just don’t get the wheels wet.

And to show that there’s no hard feelings between us and The Bucket even if their legal team doesn’t know a riding horse from a tricycle, we are taking off 3 dollars, you heard right, 3 dollars off your next purchase of Gato Negro Cabernet Sauvignon if you’ll bring in a proof of purchase receipt from The Bucket. Bucket Mini-Cheeseburger, Bucket Chicken Broth, Bucket Borscht, Bucket Triple Fish Sandwich with extra Bucket Tartar Sauce, shoot, it doesn’t matter, if you ate it at The Bucket rather than Milford Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market Snack Bar, it is legal tender at The Warehouse. Man, me and Foster Brooks are ready to trade in our Bucket Spaghetti O’s platter with Fries receipt for a Menage a Trois Merlot Blanc.

Hey, come on in, the water’s fine. And so’s the horse. But you and your small fry will never know unless you stop by Milford Beverage Warehouse. And when you do, drop the copper in the machine, ride to help Lone Ranger rescue Tonto from the Trotskyites, and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.

Gang, go at it. I’m going to help Linda with her free throws. There’s a Uruguayan who’s a dead ringer. Can never get enough practice.

 

 

“Sluggo, those have to be the worst concrete slabs Gil is using for trainers. How will he win the 1600 in those shoes?????”

“SHUT UP FATS!!!!!!!!! At least he’s wearing shoes in the park. Last time he slept on the park bench, he was barefoot as he was advising Luke Bunkin on some trader tips.”

 

 

 

“You serious, Coach. Sell the Milford Foundry stock now? Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to mash your toe.”