“I’d keep playing. I don’t think the heavy stuff’s going to come down for quite a while.”

It’s a day full of cliches at the MCC, but why blind pigs and acorns? Why not blind squirrels and nuts? Blind pigs and acorns make the best jamón ibérico de bellota, but with size of the bets Carter’s been making I think squirrel jerky Underwood Deviled Ham is more in line with his budget.

Meanwhile, something mysterious appears on the horizon. Funnel cloud? Vic Doucette’s grandpa van? Hendricks’ crappy shot to bluff Heather and Gil? Why not all of the above? Will this group call it quits before they get to see the true nature of the sandbag, or will they play through and tempt the wrath of higher powers?

meta: Wasn’t Local H a topic of discussion on a Rock ‘n Roll Thursday some time back? I’ve lost track of those ever since I switched from posting Thursdays to Wednesdays. In any event I just stumbled across Local H’s cover of TV On The Radio (a band I’ve really been into for the past year or so)’s “Wolf Like Me.” Sharing it here with the original to jog memories and invite comparisons.

A Clockwork Red.

Stanley Kubrick scored some great hits that were avant-garde and always with a twist. As Frank Capra, the great director (“It’s a Wonderful Life”) , once said “Don’t follow trends, start them.”Kubrick did just that. Scintillating, concise scriptwriting, excellent acting from actors and actresses with something to prove, storylines that left you hanging off a cliff, “Full Metal Jacket” and “2001: A Space Odyssey” exemplify the genius that was Kubrick.

His masterpiece perhaps was “A Clockwork Orange”, a critically acclaimed but highly controversial flick. Most X-rated movies in the ’60’s and ’70’s were X-rated because the film contained too much smut or pornography. Not this one. It was violent from the opening credits to the final curtain. And if Kubrick did not have a hand in this, I never would have commented on the movie due to its extremely graphic overtones. Being a Christian, I tend to shy away from movies of this ilk but respect Kubrick for his creativity, excellent plot development, and overall great sense on how to make a movie so I reluctantly gave in with the self-understanding that I will only lightly touch the movie. Plus, the color coordination has been horrible the last 2-3 days so I had to insert today’s title. Ya blame me?

And of course, Con Artist Hendricks can’t resist wanting to up the stakes and play for more than bragging rights. Like he’d wager against his own mother if she were on the links. Don’t worry, Mom, if I take you to the cleaners, you can always pay in installments and well within the time where I have to call the loan shark to send The Sopranos to your door. I’m pretty flexible. If you see a Girl Scout troop roaming the streets of Milford without their uniforms, rest assured, they should have never crossed paths with ol’ Con on Hole #3 Dog Leg Left, putting their merit badges and lunch money on the line. Marty Moon meets Captain Kangaroo.

The problem here is that, young as Heather Burns is, she is a consenting adult so Gil’s possible angle at “You hustle defenseless college graduates too?”really isn’t going to wash and I get this sick-gut feeling that’s part of where Gil is going with this, regardless of the denouement. Leave it to Gil to call a guy on the carpet who suckers high-income golfers and pulls wings off of flies. Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, I’m running to Gil for advice. No, Heather, you lose the game ball you earned back when you were a fledgling football player and fledgling person to some shark who putts better than he tells the truth, don’t try to get out of it with “I thought you were kidding”. Take your golf balls and go home because he just took YOUR ball and went home.

Hey, I have an idea. Heather can play for all those visors Carter is wearing. She’s bound to win one, if you’ll overlook the Maturity of Chances Fallacy. She’s due a hand, right?

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Cooler Heads Prevail At The Milford Country Club!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J. : ‘I ain’t bettin’ my MVP trophy from Milford Adult Flag Football League with Carter. I have standards, y’know.”

I remember a Charlie Brown cartoon where Charlie Brown, Lucy, and Linus are lying on a hill somewhere, observing the sky. And Lucy sees clouds shaped like Il Barbiere di Seviglia in the 4th Movement expressing the mood of the people as the Italian Romantic period was designed to do, Linus sees Sigmund Freud in the cloud forms, especially when he is lecturing on the id and superego to his class at the University of Vienna, Charlie Brown says he was going to say he saw a ducky and a horsey but decided to pass.

Well, there’s plenty of duckys and horseys in the tree forms today. One is a definite Smurf horsey while the other looks like Sergeant Snorkel at 80 years old. Or wait, Alfred Hitchcock on Bad Hair Day. Then there’s the rough draft of Marmaduke up above those. What tree line would be complete without America’s favorite pain-in-the-neck? Then the top tree clump is displaying The Yellow Kid upside down. Will wonders never cease. I think I’ll bet a tree profile of Barney Google with Carter. No money involved, what do I have to lose?

If ya bet ol’ Con Man the shrubbery that resembles Dr. Pearl’s beehive hairdo because ya ain’t bettin’ yore gun cuz that is sacred pro-pur-tee, ya might be a redneck.

Doncha love how the script writes itself such as in P2? Like what did anybody EXPECT Gil to say? Sure, Carter, I have a couple of Benjamins in my wallet. How much are you willing to wager? You got change? I may have to have some when I stop on the way home. Mimi wanted me to get milk and eggs. Oh, and Heather isn”t breaking the bank but she’s willing to put up the loose change she has on her person. Dialing for Quarters, a new concept in wagering on the golf course. I’m sorry, I couldn’t see Fred Flintstone mortgaging his house including Dino because his golf game left a lot to be desired. Does Thorpiverrse really expect us to believe that Gil or Fred were going to take the bait and put their IRA’s on the line? Oh, it’d be a change of pace, what with Fred being at some Bedrock soup kitchen if he did fritter his financial wad with some hustler on the Bedrock Public Golf Course but what would we do NEXT WEEK???? Watch The Flintstones where the whole family is at a shelter house? Does Thorpiverse really think there’ll be several episodes where The Brady Bunch are sleeping in a tent under a freeway bridge because Msrcia Brady bet more than the family station wagon with Carter? That’s right, T-verse, let Gil put up his hand and his foot down in P2 and let’s not EVEN imagine the scenarios that could ensue. Let Ward Cleaver bet his family away but Gil is staying put. Wise move.

Besides, we have serious coloring issues on the Gil Front. The day before, Gil was wearing Carolina blue but the next day he is decked out in Hoosier red. And Carter was wearing Gil’s Hoosier red shirt the day before and now he switched to Light Lavender. Yup, alter the color scheme when you’re upping the ante. And this might be the strategem employed by T-verse. Psych ’em out with your variegated wardrobe, it’ll throw off their golf game every time. But I think Con Man has met his match this time as Gil wore a Hoosier red cap to accentuate the point. You’re not pulling a fast one, Con Man, I wore my Cheese Head this time. Hey, it worked at Lambeau Field, why not at MCC? Go ahead, change your visor from yellow to orange all you want. I have plenty more Cheese Heads in my closet. I always beat my opppoment through attrition.

Gil one day being subjected to the Ludovico Technique at Milford High School auditorium.

“Now, Coach Thorp, it’s very simple, we think we can cure this comic of bad plot designs by forcing you to watch the the last 60 years of your endeavors.”

30 minutes later

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! STOOPPPPPPPP!!!!!!!!! I WAS THAT BAD????????? AND MIMI AND I NEVER HAD SEX BEFORE MARRIAGE!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Better watch your backside, Heather. Since when did Penelope Pitstop ever stop Dick Dastardly from being the scoundrel he was just because she told him she was a poor defenseless female, pretty much what you’re saying in P2? Did that EVER stop Dick or Carter???? And when they’re essentially the same person, that just compounds the interest. The dude with the chameleon visor simply doesn’t own a dog named Muttley. Heather, we’re not dealing with Dunderhead Pelwicki here, you can’t play on a level playing field and expect a shark to do the same. Think of Carter as Alex DeLarge but without the golf stick to gouge Gil’s eye. Oh, he’s going to gouge at the end of the match but it’s all legal. Penelope, you need to walk away or Dick Dastardly will have your pizza coupons too. He’ll have a free pepperoni to throw to Muttley. Be thankful Alex and his droogs didn’t repossess your car.

All right, Gene Rayburn is on the golf course with the rest of the group to stabilize the scores. Ready for ya, Gene

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought when Carter was playing for fun that her ______________________ was safe.”

Oh, no worries, Heather. I know you are just starting out in the world. We’ll just play for nothing at stake and if you stomp my ass by 30 strokes, no hard feelings. I just need to get an attitude adjustment with the golfing pro. But if I beat you, I won’t ask for anything but a handshake. I realize I have a bum rap but there is no sense wondering if I’m going to take your Titleists as well as you to the cleaners because I’m a man of my word. When I say I want your savings in a cashier’s check, I truly mean it. Don’t have Sonny Corleone knocking at your door. Otherwise, the match is purely for Christian fellowship and fun.

Heather, if you and Gil fall for that one, I have plenty of mutant trees behind the football stadium to sell you cheap.

Gang, Carter will not change his visor to UCLA blue and gold. Their athletic office called and threatened to sue. Otherwise, God bless you, Gang.

“The Ludovico Technique has thoroughly cured Coach Thorp of bad plot concepts and horrible unrealistic outcomes. The Psychiatric Department staff here at Milford Community College is confident that henceforth, the panels will display a full plethora of fresh ideas and innovative approaches. Are we not correct, Coach Thorp?”

“Certainly. In fact, to coordinate with these changes, I upped Mimi’s basketball schedule from 5 games to 6 games. There’ll be more drama involved.”

“Well, we still have a few bugs to iron out with Coach Thorp.”

And We’re Golfing!

Gil and Heather are not wasting any time! They’re gonna play golf with Carter “Cart” Hendricks to get an up close and personal look at Cart’s technique. Does Gil routinely gamble on the golf course. I guess he’s going to have to to get the full picture. Maybe Gil’s mission is only to see how good Hendricks’ game actually is and we won’t see any gambling. We’ll find out soon enough. We’ll also see what Heather’s role is supposed to be. Maybe she’s been lying in the weeds waiting to drain both of these chumps of some cash. She’s got huge debts to pay off after all.

I wonder how long we’ll stay with this golf outing? Will it be like the golf sequence in Goldfinger? I love that sequence. If you think it’s long and boring, try reading Fleming’s novel. He describes pretty much the whole round of golf. At any rate, Gil Thorp is not James Bond. There is no tight pacing to disrupt here, so I say let’s watch some golf and really meet this plot head on. It’s your honor, sir.

Summers in Milford Are Like Deodorant

sandbagger (n.) – one who conceals abilities or assets at first in order to gain tactical advantage later.

John Jawor is back, looking like he’s dropped a few pounds since we last saw him. That’s not all he’s dropped: there’s also the heavy hint that Carter Hendricks is a sandbagger on the links at the MCC. I freely admit I’m no golfer, so I don’t know the veracity of this explanation of the origins of the term “sandbagging.” However, if one of Hendricks’ patsies gets wind of what’s been going on and breaks his thumbs, I won’t be disappointed.

The only violence we’re likely to see is the awkward crashing together of this summer’s disparate plot lines. Will Gil and Marjie hatch a secret plot to have Heather Burns go undercover as an easy mark for Hendricks in a coed scramble? I’m about as eager to find out as I am to watch the rest of baseball season.

Freak hand golf

Club pro John Jawor is actually a real club pro at Plum Hollow in Southfield Michigan. Thats lovely.

https://www.hometownlife.com/story/sports/golf/2015/06/19/pristine-plum-hollow-ready-states-best-amateurs/29010551/

No idea why he cares so much about Mr. Paleys match against Carter Hendricks. That bunker on number 6 must be a monstrosity, because why the hell would he remember one shot out of one bunker 10 holes before the end of the match? I sure the heck dont start my review of a round with how my opponent got out of bunkers. Much less put my hand in front of my face while doing so. 2 shots 10 holes apart by his opponent – hey Paley, more about you next time and less about Mr. Sandman.

On to P3, where Gil is on the driving range and the pro is asking him about some random guy playing golf on the course. If Gil is busy giving lessons how does he know if Hendricks is a reputable player or a sandbagger, as the pros question would suggest. No idea how the info in the first 2 panels would suggest anything suspicious, but in this strip, we know anything goes. And how does Gil know how much time the pro has to watch 1 player at his course, when he has lessons to give, and many other duties related to running a golf course?

In other news, I’m heading to Colorado Sunday to watch the team formerly known as the Chicago Cubs take on the Rockies. No worries as I’ll be back Friday to do this job, and Im sure by then we’ll have more info on that cheatin sack o lies Hendricks. Dream on, TWIMers!

Sorry, We’re Used To Calling Gil “Your Highness” And Genuflecting Before We Start Practice.

Now I want make one thing perfectly clear, to quote Richard Milhouse Nixon. If Marjie treated Heather to a glass of water, Heather deserves to be starting as the janitor for the Milford Star come Monday. And bring your sandpaper, Burns, you’ll need it to sandblast the week-old poopie stains in the commode. I mean, when Marjie “Don’t call me God, God never crawled through the AC vents for a story” Ducey offered to pay for both of them, I had more in mind coffee and danish. Ok, Heather, if you want the Chicken Enchilada w/ Grits, Cornbread Extra, that comes out of your own pocket. We may be colleagues but that doesn’t make me a sugar daddy. Fair enough.

But when I didn’t see a coffee cup or any buns except for Maureen’s daughter’s hair yesterday, it made me wonder what Heather was getting on the house. Okay, I’ll say it was perhaps a Coke or a shake but I am saying that VERY reluctantly. But isn’t that the way the plot is going so far, we’re expecting a smorgasbord but getting bread and water, the bill of fare down at Milford Detention Center? Marjie, you’ll scale down the chimney to get a scoop on the football team but you’re too damn cheap to pay for the daily special? When we were expecting spaghetti and biscuits, we got a sob story about some benchwarmer and stale croutons. We wanted steak and potato on our plate, admittedly asking a lot at Maureen’s place, but got a Lifesaver and the soliloquy from Rush’s 2112 album. And let’s not mention dessert. It’s hard to put humble pie in a doggie bag. My, you are so generous, Marjie. I bet you spread your largesse to all your incipient cub reporters like this. Don’t worry, Maureen Junior will be by to wipe the croutons off the table.

I know my alma mater has to advertise but I still scratch my head why it gave a street address. Like is UCLA on Primrose Lane? Or Duke on Baker Street? Anyway

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Post Office In A Fog Over General Delivery To Milford Community College!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford Postmaster: ‘We attempted delivery to 1634 Mudlark Lane but the establishment was vacant and did not leave a forwarding address’.”

And I know some of these diners like to maintain an art deco feel and being a HUGE fan of Mike Wallis who has written about The West and in particular Route 66, face it, nostalgia sells and don’t think investors and restaurant owners aren’t keenly aware of that. That’s why (thankfully) Route 66 has made a comeback and eating establishments, such as Ted Drewes in St. Louis, cement that turn-back-in-time people crave. But there is no way I am traveling down Historic Route 66 and stopping at the structure in P1. I’ve never known burgers to be grilled in a woodshed. That objet d’art couldn’t fit ants in an anthill, much less the characters on Boulevard of Broken Dreams. Elvis is going to be cramped serving chicken noodle soup to Humphrey and Marilyn.

Well, it doesn’t matter anyway, Dime Ducey only had enough philanthropy to pay for the Dasani so it’s not like Heather will be chowing down on salisbury steak and steamed veggies in a closet. You couldn’t even get your kicks in Route 66 in that work of art, your feet wouldn’t have enough room. Maybe one day Thorpiverse will travel Route 66 and hit a real diner. One where the roof isn’t in the corner booth. And Marjie will actually do lunch next time, not talk about it. And the plot will make progress. Ehhhhhh, that may too much on one’s plate, literally.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Almost Banished From Rat Pack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Reconciliation Is Nearing A Climax!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“We informed Mr. Thorp that when ordering at The Diner that the Stewed Tomatoes Platter gives Frankie acid reflux.”

We get to the heart of this story or this particular strip anyway in P2. Still really unclear why this touching piece of storytelling is being related over water gratis but I reckon Dime Ducey has her reasons, not to mention Thorpiverse who is encouraging this Scroogean conversation. And if we’re talking anything on the field, I have to believe Heather is talking of the football variety. Were any of you as confused as I was when she talked about a third-string center and nsturally believed it was basketball that tied in in with that? I don’t think there’s a third-string center in volleyball or a third-string center in soccer. BUT there is a third-center in football, I believe the dude who snaps the football.

But this entertains more questions. Is he third on the depth chart because he hiked the football up the quarterback’s crotch one too many times? That’ll find a seat on the bench for sure. Okay, he sailed the ball over the punter’s head and it landed directly into Gil’s martini. Hoo boy, you better practice your technique or you’ll be a FOURTH-string center. Wait a minute, the nose tackle handled him like a rag doll, body-slammed him, threw him through the ropes, and failed to get up from the 3-count. Well, you might not be the starting center but you’ll be vying for a job with Freezer Thompson when he takes on Jerry Lawler on Milford Saturday Afternoon Wrestling.

And Marjie Ducey wrote a piece on Freezer Thompson. Now that’s what I call inspiration. That’s right, he has a beer gut the size of an elephant, gets kicked in the private area when he’s not slammed into the turnbuckle, he even gets beat by another stooge, Mr. Clyde, when Lawler and Jarrett aren’t having their way with him but by gum, he gets back up for more. Until, of course, when the bell signals the 3-count, indicating that the match is over. But at least this particular Mudlark was battling all the way, even when he was out cold on the concrete floor when Lawler slung him through the ropes. Dime Ducey, you have a way with feel-good journalistic pieces when you’re not kissing Gil’s ring. You go, Ducey.

If ya is tha third-string left guard fer the football team cuz ya need ta per-fekt yore Pile Driver tech-neek after ya saw Lawler ex-ee-cute the same man-oo-ver on Superstar Bill Dundee on Milford Championship Wrasslin’ Hour, Dave Brown, Lance Russell, and Coach Shaw with the call, ya might be a redneck.

Funny how you mention the word “anonymous”, Heather. You may have been the upstart a couple of years ago but don’t interpret that to mean you’ll be dethroning Gil anytime soon. Just because you’ve graduated from calling Ms. Ducey to calling her cheapskate now doesn’t mean you can go from Coach Thorp to Clueless Gil. Ol’ Clueless has a way of keeping his assistants humble and faceless. Oh, Gil will append a name occasionally, as Coach Shaw and Steve Boone can testify. But La-Dee-Da, they ain’t steering the S.S. Thorp just because they got a name tag safety-pinned to them at football practice. Like, are the kids going to go “Is he calling the plays this week against Oakwood because I notice Gil gave Coach Boone a shirt with ‘Steve’ sewn on it.” Like anytime you see Mimi at the spinning wheel or cotton gin, somebody’s getting promoted by kickoff.

Heather “Call Me Marjie” Burns, you better wake up and smell the Folgers. Gil is not about to leave the strip after 60 years of ineptitude and he won’t leave for the sake of an Iowa graduate who talks about her career plans over sustenance Marjie could have obtained from the water fountain and not be compelled to utilize her Visa Gold. I am sure you’ll have a heavy hand in the running of the football team but in the bigger picture, Gil is still steering the Titanic. Don’t get any bright ideas.

Afternoon Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Community College Athletic Department Deluged With Dormitory Mail Due To Miscommunication!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford Postmaster: ‘We have informed our customers numerous times to insert the 4-additional numbers to the zip code.”

Well, Marjie, gotta go. All this talk about my role with Gil worked up an appetite. Next time, I’ll buy the water.

And is that a BILL on the table? All I’m seeing is a piece of paper and the possible winning combination for the Milford Lottery. And again, WHAT did they order? All I saw was Maureen a/k/a Maureen deliver 2 tall ones and that was it. No t-bone steaks. No mashed potatoes. No buffet selections. No raiding the soup buffet. Maybe I’m missing something but if you’re left picking up the tab, you pay for more than the water out of the kitchen tap. Oh, Heather may HAVE to run as in THE RUNS if the water causes her to cramp from all the plagues coming out of the faucet. We are talking The Diner, where The Health Department slaps it with fines after devouring cream-chipped beef at lunch break.

And I’m not entirely convinced that this is the start of a solid relationship between the two. I haven’t seen Heather lunge through the bathroom window to get to practice. Heather has her morals even if she still has no discipline. She may flip off soccer to be Gil’s flunky but she hasn’t slithered yet. First time for everything but she’d probably stomach the cream-chipped beef first, flies and all. In the end, have Marjie use The Diner catering services at their next rendevous and I’ll be sold on their being colleagues.

“And we’re live at The Diner interviewing Heather Burns. Now make sure you eat all your carrots so you can see Gil at the bottom of the bowl. We’ll be back to see if she drinks all her milk after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

In the den of the Shaw household one evening, Coach Shaw at the Singer sewing machine

“WOW!!!!!!! I’ll be looking sexy in this shirt!!!!!!!!!!! Those players will be impressed by this Hanes T-shirt Mauve with a Plaid Pattern and my name square on the appare-“

“HONNNNNEEEEEYYYYYYYYY, I’M HORNY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh shit, what do you want NOW, Woman?”

“What any woman wants at bedtime. A chance to get intimate after a long day at the office.”

“Then go back to the office cuz I am busy sewing patches on shirts and general merchandise to make myself more in tune with the team. They’ll crash through a wall for me when they see this Izod sweater with the Mudlark logo and yours truly patched across my chest.”

“Darling, I’d like to see your chest but you don’t have to print anything across it but your love.”

“No No No, Mrs. Shaw, that’s for when I use the stenciler to tatttoo my name because I have to take off my shirt when 2-a-day’s get too hot. I need something to stand the sweat and strain and show that I have more than hair on my chest. They’ll lose respect for me if I’m bare-chested except for my sobriquet on a Band-Aid on my left nipple. I’m going first-class all the way!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Honey, turn off de widdle machine and come to beddy-bye where I alweady know your name.”

“I’d rather stick my head in the laundry basket. I am going to get these Mudlark mascots and my name laminated on these flannel shirts or die try. Those kids will be more than intimidated when they see the Bounty Towel Man with a flannel shirt that means business. The Bounty Towel Man will have ’em runnin’ stairs until midnight.”

“I was wondering why your flannel shirts suddenly disappeared when I was doing the wash this week. I thought the dog buried them.”

“And when I get done steam-stitching all my uniform tags I got when I was a teenage mechanic at Milford Grease Monkey onto my Arrow Sport Shirts, I’ll be larger than life and bigger than Gil. The stage awaits.”

“But Gil’s sex life will be steamier and he didn’t need a sewing machine.”

“She had me there and I was running out of name tags anyway and had no money to reorder. And that was beside the point. I took my ED problems to Milford Men’s Clinic and they laid out a plan the way you diagram a play on the football field. Boy, did this one score!!!!!!! Isn’t it time to design your own plays to enhance your sex life and have some fun along the way. Come to Milford Men’s Clinic today where you don’t need a name tag or an appointment to lead you on your way to pure sexual Heaven.”

No, Gang, they could have gone through the drive-thru, THEN sat down. That would explain the glass of water. They weren’t hungry then. Still full of BS but the hunger disappeared. But God bless you, Gang.

Late Late Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Elvis’ Mail Redirected To The Milford Communuty College Dining Center!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford Postmaster: ‘Mr. Presley needs to submit a Notification of Specialized Delivery in triplicate for unfortunate events such as these from recurring.’.”

How Maureen Alger Rose From Cub Reporter To Waitress At The Diner.

Now there you go again, Thorpiverse, to quote Ronald Reagan in a debate one year. Throwing Dale Parry at us like he’s Drew Pearson or H.L. Mencken. According to your logic, A Star is going to be Born. Just make the right interviews, eat the right Sloppy Joes, stir up a little crap when the subscription cancellations are on the rise and, by gum, you’re the next Anderson Cooper. Even if we really don’t know who this Dale Parry is. Okay, we’ll investigate his choice of meat loaf at The Diner, the extramarital affairs he had at Mudlark Lake cabins, if his kids are happy and well-adjusted or he has to mail the alimony payments, or what his favorite baseball team is. We should be caught up by the end of summer.

And as I mentioned before, what else could this chance encounter signify but Marjie offering a job with the Milford newspaper. Like if Heather was going to coach for peanuts and she had no other steady income, Marjie was going to suggest riding the garbage truck for Milford Sanitary Solutions and being a sanitary engineer. Or driving the forklift for Milford Foundry. And she can’t be a waitress at The Diner, Maureen already has that job nailed cold. Do we spend the rest of the summer with Marjie calling periodically and asking Heather if she’s getting the hang of the job at Milford Sanitary Solitions. Hang in there, Heather, the first week is always the toughest.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Lawford Dumped, Coach Thorp Invited To Join The Rat Pack!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mr. Sinatra was impressed by Thorp’s pipes, especially on ‘Come Fly With Me’.”

And speaking of A Star is Born, Barbra Streisand wanted Elvis for the lead in the worst way and despite the ’70’s being a time when Elvis began struggling with his weight (too many fried peanut butter sandwiches) , Streisand was Hell-bent-for-leather to get him. The MAJOR obstacle was Colonel Tom Parker, an ignominious cad whose only concern was the almighty dollar. BTW, he was also an illegal alien which is why Elvis never toured abroad because eventually someone at customs would be asking for Parker’s papers for which he could never produce. He was originally Dutch and basically worked like Helen Hayes in the movie Airport, playing a stowaway on ocean liners and being as discreet as possible until he got to America. He gradually picked up the English language and his keen sense of observation enabled him to speak English without an accent. He absorbed the mannerisms and nuances necessary should anyone to get suspicious.

Anyway, he turned out to be the prick he was noted for being and when he talked with Streisand’s negotiating team, he might as well have been negotiating with Attila the Hun to partition Europe. The Streisand team said “Hell no” to his outrageous demands and they opted for Kris Kristofferson instead. Still basically a match made in Heaven but without having to pay Kris one zillion dollars as Parker was essentially demanding.

And I think it’s safe to say Heather will not be scrubbing the commodes at Milford Star and will not be cleaning Dale Parry’s ash trays since that was Zane Clark’s summer job so we’re left with what IS Heather’s ideal job? Whatever it is, if Colonel Tom Parker is negotiating her job title, I’m headin’ out of Milford. What’s scary is this could conceivably happen, Heather get associate editor at $125,000 with a signing bonus of $34,000 and she be still bitching that she’s still underpaid and somebody needs to fix the water cooler. Oh, she still wants to help coach the football team on a full-time coach’s salary. If Gil can live in a house that resembles the one Darren Stephens and his family reside in for doing nothing, two can literally play that game. Are we ready for an August of this? A Star is Aborted.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Frankie A Bit Put Out Over Coach Thorp’s Progress At Rehearsals!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mr. Sinatra is simply concerned over Mr. Thorp’s duetting skills on numbers such as ‘That’s Amore’ with Dino as the performance at the Milford Sands is this Friday.”

What is this choice of jobs in P2 all about???? Okay, she won’t be cleaning the latrines, not be scrubbing the bathroom sink with a toothbrush, not be waiting on tables at The Diner when Maureen is taking a smoke break when Heather is not copy-editing the funnies. Yeah, gotta delete that occasional profanity that Dagwood utters when Blondie spends too much at the Milford 5 & 10. Just make sure you wipe the tables when that family leaves. We don’t want the customers to see the spaghetti stains those kids left off of their child’s plate.

So now that we know (and could have seen a mile away) that manual labor is out of the question (we are talking a Star on our hands) , what NEWSPAPER job are we talking? Marjie, c’mon, we’re in Thorpiverse. Did you crawl through the vents for interviews with Gil by being the Milford Star Subscription Director’s assistant when you were 18 years old? No, in all likelihood, you were a cub reporter who crawled through the vent to talk to the director at Milford Barbershop Quartet and worked your way up to crawling through the vent to talk to the Chef at Milford Elks Club before crawling through the vent to chat with Gilberto became your badge of honor. You are simply imparting your wisdom to Heather. Make sure Milford Pest Control sprayed for roaches before you ascend the vents. Gil doesn’t like bugs in his office.

And I am really not looking forward to Heather being an ace reporter for the rest of the summer. Wait a minute, did you think she was going to start out as a cub reporter? Heather “I was Bill Parcells on the soccer team” Burns? Are we seeing the same thing? Are we?

“….who do you think I am, Sinatra and the rest of his Mafiosos????”

Dead silence at Milford Comedy Caravan

Heard whispering somewhere among the tables

“Bishop needs to write some different material FAST. I’ll tell him before he goes on.”

And web designer (or thereabouts) ???? Where’s the controversy in that? Thorpiverse, no TWIMer is going to fall for your scheme, getting us to believe Heather Burns will have her head up her derriere the rest of the summer conjuring ideas for designs for ads, the editorial page, 2-minute sports section, church directory, etc. and then go to the football field with her head up her derriere, only this time at minimum scale. Like there’s really a conflict of interest in this whole stew. Like she can rip the football team on the crossword puzzle page when the team has its head up its helmet AND its derriere. Gee, you draw crossword puzzles nicely, Ms. Burns. And the football team needs to tackle better. I smell a story.

I think I smell a controversy for August, Gang. In one Brady Bunch episode, Peter Brady is trying to be the best reporter for his school newspaper to the point where he wants the rest of the family to call him Scoop Brady. He eventually, though, winds up neglecting his studies and his parents start to intervene. So who’s going to intervene when Scoop Burns goes from web designer to ace reporter and winds up bad-mouthing Gil, the one who hired her at minimum scale? The logical choice would be Gil himself but he’s too busy with his twin brother at MCC to care. Oh, Lord, get us to football.

If ya go ta Mil-ferd Comm-yew-nity Koll-ige ta earn yore degree in Joor-ney-lism and ya start out at tha bottom as tha 3rd shift lead soup maker at Milford Diner, ya might be a redneck.

“Burns, I can’t believe you wrote this trash about me in the Milford Enquirer!!!!!! I’m demoting you to special assistant to the receivers coach!!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil-“

“Mr. Thorp to you”

“I’m sorry but Sammy Davis Junior indeed said you were struggling on ‘Candy Man’. He said you sounded like a hyena having sex.”

And where ELSE do you expect Mrs. Air Duct and Heather to talk over career journalism prospects? Like it’s any mystery. Nope, they won’t be discussing how to climb through the bathroom window for an interview with Gil while diving into the buffet table at Golden Corral. Now you have to have good soles on your shoes when scaling the walls and, oh, those blueberry pancakes will ruin my diet but today’s my day to indulge. Coffee? Or go to McDonald’s for breakfast. Yeah, get an Egg McMuffin and some Fruit Loops while engaging in a lengthy discourse on how to avoid getting your ass chewed out by Dale when the Milford Enquirer outscooped you when Gil called Kaz a wussy in front of the team. Yup, I’ll be at The Olive Garden for some Tortellini and Clams, Marinaded in a Milford Valley Merlot. I’ll even pay for the breadsticks.

And The Diner has replaced The Bucket as the place to go whenever pursuing the future of Gil. For 60 years, Gil and the teenagers talked about life’s problems but there’s a new greasy spoon in town. And we have a waitress with an honorary doctorate in journalism ethics. Boy, this ought to be interesting. I hope Marjie brought plenty of plastic to pay for the Chicken Dumpling Lunch Plate Special because I brought my appetite.

“That was Joe Cocker singing ‘She Came in Through the Bathroom Window’. My my, did Joe know Marjie personally? Ah, we’ll never know. And we’ll be back to continue our Golden Goodies afternoon here on WDIG after these messages.”

“That’s some good singin’, ain’t it? Man, I feel like ol’ Joe when he’s singing with Jennifer Warnes on ‘Up Where We Belong’. Makes me want to dump Mimi and pick up Debra Winger at Milford Foundry and get a job flying for the U.S. Air Force.

But for now, I’m keeping my wife and here to speak about a more serious issue. Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse and because The Bucket not only was denied a liquor license but supplanted by The Diner as the greasiest abyss in the 21st century, they have once again engaged in a smear campaign only intended to dethrone the King of Beers and I don’t mean Budweiser.

They say that we supply all the Cheetos to The Diner and we’re getting money under the table for the transaction. Now where did they get their sources, Chester Cheetah? Why would we want to sell to our competition, knowing that if somebody with his hard-earned paycheck just off of work at the Milford Toyota plant were to want to spend it, he’d be eating egg drop soup with flies in it at The Diner? With a side order of Cheetos? Or Lay’s Baked Chips? Shoot, we’ll keep our chips, let The Bucket or The Diner call Sysco or Costco for their food supplies. We ain’t no soup kitchen. You can eat your Lay’s Baked Sour Cream Chips and use your bottle of Jack Daniels Premium Whiskey as a chaser, all for only $16.99 a bottle. You can always use your coupon on the chips.

And The Bucket has spread an unfounded rumor that Maureen is the night assistant manager at The Warehouse when she’s not serving the Pancakes du Jour at The Diner. If she’s manning the books and supervising our sales clerks, she’s been in the ladies room performing her duties. I wouldn’t know, I’m not allowed to go in there but nobody but ladies BESIDES Maureen have come out of there. We do occasional spot checks but tests to this point have been negative. While you’re waiting, grab a 30-Pak, 12-fluid oz. of Busch Lite to lighten your load, the price of $18.99 making it that much lighter. She may come oit one day.

Then The Bucket has falsely accused us of discounting to any Diner employee who purchases booze from us. Good God almighty, we don’t grant special favors to the Lead Dishwasher when he comes in to purchase Chateau Ste. Michelle Chardonnay for $8.99 a pop. That’s what Groupon is for. Shoot, we’ll even FedEx The Warehouse coupons to them if they’re too damn lazy to pick them up here in the store or use the scissors to cut them out out of the newspaper ad section. The Chipped Jello functionary knows we don’t cut him any more slack than the Banana Split Machine Operator at The Bucket. Gimme a break.

But that’s what happens when you’ve lost your way home and you need some direction. But people wanting The Good Life at a fair price know where to go. If you want to get your head in a toilet swirlie over vicious rumors, then head to The Bucket for your Bucket Fudge Sundae and a crying towel, otherwise come on down, the booze is fine and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

Gang, I have been BUSY at my dad’s warehouse but you have spoiled me with your loyalty. I owe you my best efforts which I can honestly say I’ve given you today. God bless you.

“…in the way you look tonighhhhhtttttt.”

“Uh, Mr. Thorp, ease off the falsetto. Okay, let’s take it from the top.”

Dirty thoughts

So Heathers dad is congratulating her on her new gig as assistant football coach, entirely hired over lemonade by a head coach who didnt know she was coming to the golf course in the first place and hadnt seen her in 4 years anyway. Sheesh, I know Tony LaRussa was hired over a cup of coffee 30 years after last managing the White Sox (I still have a soft spot in my heart for him after he brought a division title to my town for the first time even though he got pantsed in the playoffs; they wernt gonna lose to the Phillies in the World Series but couldnt get past the smarter Orioles) and like Jerry Reinsdorf, Gil isnt even interviewing anyone else for this position; but my god, how the hell does he know her level of coaching knowledge 4 years after last applying it?

I used to play the organ for a number of years, and lost interest gradually after high school. Other things came along etc. If you think I could sit down and play a song 4 years after I last touched the keyboard, I’d say you were nuts. And even Heather knows its not a “real” job. Sounds more like an internship. And in P3 we have her dads though balloon saying .. we’ll see how this gig affects the rest of your time when I can use you as I see fit….

Cant wait to find out what Pops has in mind!