The Extra “Y” is for “Y’all come get these hats”

Don’t look now but Jocelynn is suddenly Joycelynn and everybody gets a hat.  Given today’s date I thought they might be Rastafarian caps but I thought wrong, as those are typically crocheted rather than knitted.  At least nobody said “too cool for school” again.

We’ve now had a week of hat love during which time one game was played with a single panel for exposition.  Reckon this is what we get when we complain that the girls don’t get enough attention in this strip.  I can see these hats playing a bigger role in the rest of the story arc, like when the Lady Mudlarks have to forfeit a game for their non-regulation headgear (which, if I’m reading the NFHS softball uniform rules correctly, these are not) and, after much protest and a hostile takeover of Marty Moon’s crate at WDIG, they convince the powers that be to allow them to wear the hats in games but not to reverse the forfeit, leading to their missing the playdowns.

Linda Carr’s been surprisingly quiet through all this. Wonder if she’ll be the turd in the Milford punch bowl that somehow casts a shadow over this lovefest.

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Even A Blind High-five Finds a Nut Now and Then

“That’s the most uncool thing I’ve ever heard!”

“Wait, what? We live in a place where ‘ease up‘ is part of the local lingo and that’s the most uncool thing you’ve ever heard? That’s almost as uncool as you trying to high-five me with your eyes closed!”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks for not leaving me hanging.”

Speaking of hanging, it’s time to check in on the Coaches Thorp and see what they’re up to when they’re not at Milford High. Quelle surprise, there they are with drinks in their hands again. Mimi seems flummoxed by the idea that kids these days can empathize with one another over something other than the sports team they play on together.  Maybe empathy’s not dead after all.  Maybe she can convince the girls to channel some of that empathy into being a cohesive unit. Maybe she keeps Gil around because of his 46-inch inseam and the Bob Lanier-like boats stuck to the end of it.

Anything You Can Do, I Can Do Better, Including Hat-Making And Pepper.

 

 

 

 

Everybody wants to rule the world. Yes, that’s the unofficial theme for today’s post after a Lady Mudlark suggested dropping out of school and plying their wares for the good of Mankind. Why stop at blowing off scrimmage? Why not just declare outright truancy and just skip school and sell hats at a roadside stand somewhere on the outskirts of Milford along with the tomatoes, squash, New Thayer County melons, jowl bacon in a jar, grape jelly in a jar big enough to fit Gil’s hair, Milford Valley Homemade Peanut Butter, and the coup-de-grace, that painting of those dogs playing poker, cigars and all. Wearing one of Jocelynn’s hats, no doubt.

Who knows? They’ll make enough money to attend Milford Community College, where they can talk about blowing off that History 203 exam(essay exam, naturally), flunk out and sell some more hats. Well, Milford and vicinity will be more stylish, if nothing else.

So to kick it off, you whippersnappers, Joe Walsh has been kind enough to step in and rough up the situation. The album’s a classic, “There Goes The Neighborhood”, the album cover reflecting the current mood. Have at it, Joe

 

So you made a wish

On this falling plot

That’s what you got

 

Whoa, whoa

And here it is

Like it or not

 

And the truth is

Nobody cares

Everybody’s gone

 

It’s so useless

Playing the game

Heaven knows they’re lost

 

And if it takes until the story runs dry

’til the story runs dry

If it takes until the golf season comes to see why

 

Joe Walsh killer guitar riff, we proceed

 

If ya got yore ass fired from yore 3rd shift premium pay 9.13/hour job at the Milford Foundry cuz you wuz caught in the bathroom stall makin’ ball caps with fish or deer designs (“Man, Check out that bass on Kaz’s head.”) on ’em on the sly, cuttin’ inta yore productivity on the assembly line, ya might be a redneck.

 

YEEEEESSSSSSSSS, I GET BY!!!!!!!!!!!!! WITHA LITTLE HELP!!!!!!!!!!!!! FROM!!!! MY!!!!!!! FRIENDS!!!!!!!!!!!

“Gil, you damn near knocked over our lamp we got on our wedding day!!!!!”

“Sorry, Mimi, everybody down at the Milford Country Club says I sound exactly like Joe Cocker. They said I have all kinds of hidden talents.”

“Well, the next time your hidden talent knocks over the aquarium, your cleaning it up and putting the bluegill back in the tank.”

“BTW, Mimi, you have any VO5 in the cabinet. I was gonna spray my hair until it fizzes out, then comb it every which way, then head to the sauna at the club for 2 hours. I’m a dead ringer for Cocker.”

“Gil, you’ll probably be just plain dead if anybody sees you.”

“Aw, Mimi, I can do an epileptic seizure like Cocker with the best of them. Don’t rain on my parade. Please.”

 

And as Franku has alluded to or just flat out expressed, as much as I appreciate Show and Tell in P1, Thorpiverse is ONCE AGAIN sending us off on another tangent, another Black Hole for which it’s no fun to watch Santa and his reindeer struggle to get back out of (“Rudolph!!!!!! We’ve been sucked in before!!!!!!!!!!!! Can’t you give your nose any more Lumens?????!!!!!!??????”) . Yeah, on Donner, on Blitzen, now Dasher, now Prancer, fer sure. And we could stretch this with the Rosey-Greer-does-needlepoint outlook but, remember, he didn’t do needlepoint on 1st and 10 on Sunday. Nope, didn’t give the opposing quarterback any crochet needles after he sacked his ass for 17 yards that I’m aware of.

“Hey, Deac, your testicles are showing through your jock strap. Want me to sew it up for ya?”

“Greer!!!!!!!!!! I’m in the middle of shootin’ a Dairy Queen commercial!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Cut, cut. Now, Deac, I want you to mention the Chili Fries after you mention going to a bakery…”

What a perfect activity after a win. A quilting bee. For Show and Tell

“Oh look, boys and girls, Babe knitted an afghan with The Iron Horse in the pattern. And he belted 714 home runs today. I think he deserves a Good Job button, don’t you?”

 

 

“You never even called me by my nammmmmeeee.

Well, a coupla friends of mine, Coach Shaw and Steven Goodman, wrote that song and told me that that was the Perfect Country Sing.

I wrote back to both of them and told them it was NOT the Perfect Country Song because it didnt say anything at all about Mama or Trains or Rain or Prison or Pick-up Trucks or Gettin’ Drunk.

They went over to The Bucket where they’re still tryin’ to get their liquor license and let that sink in and piss ’em off and they got ta writin’ like an elephant on a rampage. Finally, after several Bucket Daiquiri Shakes, they sent me back the revised version. I read over it and said, damn, Bucket Daiquiri Shakes ain’t Falls City and the kids may still have to go to Mom’s PTA meetings to drink any but they had  come up with THE PERFECT COUNTRY SONG. And it goes like this

I was drunk at The Bucket

The day my mom got out of prison

And I went to pick her in the rain

But before I could get to Milford Amtrak

In my pick-up truck

She got ran over by a dammed ol’ trainnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Rizk Gets 3 Standing O’s At Milford Girls-a-Go-Go Club!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“She sounds like Coe and even has his hair!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Damn, these strained negations

Feeling 2 foot smalllllll

God, this story crashes

Hidden talent for softballllll??????

 

Guess they made their mind up

Whoa, whoa

Such a shame to wind up

 

In the Valley cellar

Selling chocalate chip

Mired in endless talents

On a sinking ship

 

But I guess they made their mind up

 

 

What a perfect way to lead into my next gripe. The ladies in P2 are getting ridiculous about this. They won a softball game that had its moments, suddenly we’re comparing notes on who can do what when they’re NOT playing softball. Oh, here’s a radical talent. You might wanna hold onto your girlfriend on this one

“Damn, she can CATCH THE BALL!!!!!!!!! Pop-ups in the infield wont be an issue with her at shortstop.”

“She was so quiet. I would have never thought.”

Otherwise, after-game rituals are really not the time to beat your chest and say you can whup anybody’s butt in Chinese checkers. I really wouldn’t mention you can play “Who Are You” by The Who on the Jew’s harp with your harelip. Oh, that oughta be a great duet with you and Keith Moon. A Platinum Album, no question.

“My dog’s better than your dog,

My dog’s better than yours

My dog’s better

Cuz he’s got the Trig table memorized

My dog’s better than yours”

Probably got rewarded with Ken-L Ration after memorizing Sin, then Cosine, etc.

 

Ever’ goddang one of those gloves was a-waggin’

Under the old horseshoe

Tonight, the players chose a leader

Gave Mimi Thorp the screws

 

There were skaters and knitters

And talkers and runners

They had too much to do

They ran off from school

And joined the Legion

Talented in shooting in their Blues

 

I think you get my message for P3 and therefore I will leave you to admire the North by Northwest shot which graces the strip quite frequently. We know one thing. Another one of Linda’s hidden talents is using Colgate.

Shout-out to Ashley Leonard of Louisville, Kentucky. She got approved for her Disability the other day and I couldn’t be happier. You need to be taken care of, Ashley. She is VERY talented at knitting and this BY NO MEANS a hidden talent. She does a lot of intricate patterns, many of your favorite school (UK, UCLA, Florida State, Duke, IU, etc.) and she did one of the US Navy insignia. And I was impressed. Ashley refuses to stop living, getting out and about. Treat her with respect. And get a quilt from her. Her rates are reasonable, trust me.

At the Milford Fun Center Arcade

“Good Lord, Kaz, I didn’t know you could play Pac-Man. You’ve eaten up 1,435 goblins and are at the 23rd level-”

“Gentlemen, we’re closing. Wrap it up.”

“Ah, jeez, one more quarter, puh-leeezze.”

 

“Ya know, some people will stoop to anything to get a license when they need to stick to Burgers and Fries. Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse.

Mr. Absentee Owner of The Bucket has been slingin’ some mud lately and I don’t mean in the stuff you sling at room temperature in the Bucket Moose Tracks Shake. He’s been saying we use threats of intimidation and bullying, to the point of involving the Mafia. If you believe him, I have a Choc-Ola farm over near Oakwood to sell ya cheap. Just pluck a bottle off the tree. What’s more, I don’t speak Italian.

He’s mad because we have the finest selection. of wines and whiskeys with a rotunda at the front of the store with all the Budweiser you’ll ever need. A fountain of paradise. You can lick from the faucet and grab you a case to purchase. Yeah, Mr. AO, try to install THAT by the soda jerk. Don’t want my Bud mixed in with with any hot fudge sundae, thank you very much.

And he can flap his jaws about all these children’s drinks but if I want creme de menthe in a pacifier, I’ll head to Milford Day Care and get one from Keri from her lunchbox. When you want to grow up and smell the Stella Artois, it’s waitin’ on ya by Mike-Sell’s Green Onion Chips. And BTW, if you buy Stella by the pound, ALL Cheetos are BOGO’s, My Friend. Ummmmm, um, Stella and 2 bags of Jalapeno Cheese Curls. With Salsita Dip. It’s like sending Mr. AO in a trunk and letting Sonny Corleone decide where to go when he sneaks by the forest ranger station at the National Forest.

Oops, now don’t get no ideas. I just happen to remember Mr. AO’s horse when the former was in bed. Some things bring back bad memories. But there’s no horse’s heads on all the Martini & Rossi Wines, from Dark Cherry to my favorite, Peach Mango Lite. Hey, if I can enjoy The Good Life and still look like Jack LaLanne, can ya blame me?

But don’t take my word for it or Mr. AO’s either. Come down and see that once you open the door to check out our selection and prices, the car will remain intact. And if you want Daiquiri Pudding Pops in your Happy Meal, you know where The Bucket is located. Suck on your lollipop, go ahead.

Then come down and taste some real drinking, straight from El Dorado. You’ll be glad you did.

 

Do ‘er to ‘er, Gang. I’m gonna go show my hidden talent to the baseball team, singing “The National Anthem” in Bantu. God, do you realize how long it took to memorize Dative Case?

 

SHE CAME IN THROUGH THE BATHROOM WINDOW

“Gil!!!!!!!!! Come to bed!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Living a life of illusion…

Slugger, Leader, Hat Model

Fellow TWIM bloggers, where are you going for the color version of the strip?  I used to use the Seattle PI comics page but it looks like it might be behind a paywall now and just accessed it again (thanks to loyal TWIMer Downpuppy).  If one of you find it, could you please update this post with a copy?  Check out Jocelynn’s hat in living color.

That is some serious Carmen Miranda-level shit going on right there.  Somehow I doubt she got a free bowl of soup with it.

This wraps up what has been a long week – five strips to play one game.  Something tells me we’ll see two or three games in a single strip more than once and hey, what about those Mudlark boys?  Been kinda nice not hearing about them.  Kinda nice for Mimi to play cheerleader and not field leader, though that may prove problematic down the line.

A couple of odds and ends to bring today’s post to a close:

We carp about playdowns in the Thorpiverse but I only found out recently that here in Pennsylvania we have high school playbacks!  In multiple sports even!  Best as I can tell, they’re kinda like double elimination rounds where you can play your way back into the state playoffs.

Finally, in stumbling around looking for a color version of today’s strip I stumbled upon this blog, which concisely summed up the BRobby Howry arc in far drier fashion than we did here.  Maybe that’s where all of Jason’s readers wandered off to…

 

The Bases Are Loaded: Is the Artist Loaded Too?

Okay, could all y’all who said you were going to sleep please wake up and help me figure out the bizarro details in today’s strip?

Panel one starts out okey-dokey. Nice detail on the batting gloves, Chief and, uh, nice effort on using words that a softball player might use, Rubin.  Jocelynn Brown must be part of the Brown-Hiatt family ’cause she’s making things happen.

We get to panel two and what the hell is going on here?  Is this a Milford baserunner, base coach, or someone standing on a bag about six feet from the outfield wall?  Did she get her arms from an all-you-can-eat Alaskan king crab leg buffet?  Is she wearing Japanese tabi cleats?  Isn’t 410 a deep wall for high school softball?  (With this perspective, kinda makes you think that should read 4/20.)  Finally, is that a smaller Ricozzi’s Pizza billboard on the fence?  How funny would it have been had big money BRobby Howry kept buying ad space ripping Gil on his own playing field?

On to panel three.  I know that ideally a home plate umpire doesn’t line up directly behind the catcher, so as to have a better view of the outside corner of the plate.  I can’t recall ever having seen an ump line up that far off center – nearly perpendicular to the catcher – even with an unseen left-handed batter up.  Maybe someone who’s been to a softball game more recently than I can confirm this is legit.

Oh, and someone please tell me Benson uses this cheer:

 

Okay, everybody back to sleep now.

In Which Linda Channels Her Inner Pete Seeger

They say at Milford High School
There are no neutrals there.
You’ll either be a Mudlark girl
Or worn out and pull your hair.

Ya know what’s worse than robmize complaining about the Cubs’ bullpen turning into the Nationals’ bullpen? The Nationals’ bullpen still being the Nationals’ bullpen! But yeah, it’s been some rocky going for our respective teams a week into the season.

Speaking of rocky going, what’s the Vegas line on Linda and David’s relationship lasting through baseball and softball season? Something’s gotta give and odds are it’ll be the dating that goes first. Nobody likes being called a hypocrite even if they are being a hypocrite, so that’s a nail in this relationship’s coffin. I guess one thing Milford has going for it is that it’s not the Canadian universe of For Better or for Worse, in which everyone was doomed to marry their childhood sweethearts. Still, that might’ve given us some hockey action and made the synchronized skating thing a bit less contrived.

We Never Did See That Scrimmage

“I was at a Comic Con last weekend – and I have this Wasp bobblehead to prove it!”

“I don’t think anybody asked – or cared – where you were, Nancy.”

Pretty tricky of Nancy to hold that bobblehead steady as the floor and the lockers slide away from beneath her feet.

Speaking of writing blogs… Tiny credit where credit is due, or acknowledgement that Whigrub must see this blog: Whigham is gradually moving away from putting huge earrings on his teenage girls to putting multiple small ones on them. Still has this thing for the ears poking out out of the hair elf style, though.

Alright then. All this hoohah about the scrimmage and who didn’t show up for it and why has been going on for two weeks now.  When does it advance the plot?

Nothing Personal. It’s Just Skating.

As I predicted yesterday, we’re getting Molly Hatchet’s exposition of her synchronized skating hobby.  As I didn’t predict on Wednesday, the RINK she was skating at isn’t in Milford but in Central City.  As every faithful reader knows, Central City is nothing but trouble for Milfordians (or is it Milfordites?) so Molly’d better keep her head on a swivel while she’s over there. Of course, if she can convince more of her Lady Mudlark softball teammates to join her, maybe Mimi would have to cancel softball season.  Mimi gets her drinking time back, and we’d get to see a different sport for a change. Sounds like a win-win to me.

What’s up with Molly’s shirt? Is it a Steven Universe shoutout or, given the neckline, a Dallas Stars jersey with the “D” left off because the Stars wouldn’t give Whigham permission to use it, kinda like those old sports cards you used to get in cereal boxes?