This Week in Milford

June 2, 2020

“We’ll Meet You This Friday, 7:30PM, Here At Howard Johnson’s Inn.”

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Instead of tying loose ends, which is what Thorpiverse SHOULD be doing, we’re extracting a couple more storylines out of the grab bag, at the expense of some plots or mimi-plots that never really flew out of Milford Regional Airport. What are we going to talk about, what activities could we be humanly engaging in, now that summer is here?

The love story that never was and will likely stay that way between Phoebe and The Mayor was NOT because he drank too much Nutrament Vanilla Shakes at the tavern; nope, Thorpiverse sent Miss Grundy to rummage through his gym bag after Mr. Grundy cried foul and a kitchen utensil you use to spread Skippy on Roman Meal killed “A Little Romance.” We’ll never see him and Phoebe kiss under the Milford Canal Bridge just as the 3rd shift whistle goes off at Milford Foundry. Way to be a wet blanket, Mr. Grundy.

And what happened to Gonzo? Heck, that would have made a great Jets vs. Sharks confrontation. Us Hispanics always have to bail you out in the ninth when your pitcher gets a rubber arm. Oh, yeah? Well, if you’d quit batting with a Swiffer Mop when you’re swinging for the fences, you might up your average. Then there’s the song, sung by The Mayor naturally

Mimi

I just met a girl named Mimi

And now I know that name

Will never be the same

Again

 

And The Mayor could get whacked by the Sharks with a Hillerich & Bradsby Special and Mimi threaten both the Jets AND the Sharks after The Mayor loses his mind and the team goes on to win the Playdowns in remembrance of The Mayor who gave his Ultra Slim Fast for the team. Of course, he already DID lose his mind after slurping Ultra Slim Fast at his Communion, but we can sort it out while Gil’s at the links. Just alternate between the Mudlarks singing “We’re Gonna Get ’em Tonight” and Gil saving par. Just about wraps up the summer, doncha think?

But nooooooooo, we gotta endure a couple of wayward ideas that will probably REMAIN wayward. So as long as we’re going to drag athletes into this, I might as well throw in a couple of my own.

Richard Pryor had a hilarious take on Jim Brown, the standout running back for the Cleveland Browns in the ’60’s and respectable actor after his playing days were over. Pryor would say that Brown could be mean as snakes, which was understandable, given Brown’s competitiveness and focus. His statistics backed him up.

And Pryor continued “Man, it used to be a death wish. There ain’t no building around here in Milford to jump off of. and Gil went golfing. Let’s go over to Jim Brown’s house and fuck with him a while.”

So if Valley Alternative, as long as we’re recruiting, ever fields a football team, they can go over to Jim Brown’s house and ask politely. I’m sure he’ll oblige if they say “Please”.

Gil rings Jim Brown’s doorbell one day

Jim Brown opens the door

“Yeah, Jimmie, Big Man, hey, I don’t mean to intrude, I’m sure you’re studying game film in the den (get a hold of yourself, Thorp) , well, what I mean to say is, ol’ Buddy, ol’ Pal, you see, Dr. Pearl got caught behind on her District Board State Income Tax W-2 Report-1978 and can’t make it to the Midnight Bowling League Match tonight and seeing, well, you have such strong hands and hate to roll gutter balls as if you were getting stuffed on the 1-yard line, and we know you like the ball a lot, so we wanted to know if you’d be interested in filling out our 4-member team. We call ourselves Thorp’s Troops. Catchy, isn’t it? Whattya say?” as Gil braces for the worst.

“Sure. What time do you need me there?”

“11:35PM. We need to get the roster turned in and ready to go before First Roll at 12:01AM”

“I’ll be there.”

Gil breathes a sigh of relief

“Thanks, Jimmie. I always thought you were a terror when you were with the Steelers.”

 

 

I was intrigued when I saw on a documentary on Abraham Lincoln and the fact that he and Mary Todd Lincoln slept in separate beds. How’d they get Robert Todd, Edward, Willie, or Tad? Oh well

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. And Alexa Caught In Serious Dispute Over Future Wedding Plans!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“There ain’t no way I’m taking a double room, I don’t care how much of a discount I get at Milford Motel 6.”

 

And as long as we’re going to endow Valley Alternative with a smorgasbord, shoot, I have a whole list of athletes that would fit right in to the school.

How about Dennis Rodman? He got shipped to VA (not the Milford VA Hospital, bear in mind) because he wore his purple (orange/green/magenta////…) hair one too many times in Andy Rooney’s class. Rooney and Dr. Paper Pusher found Krylon in his desk and considered it a weapon. You could take somebody’s eye out with that thing if you’re not pointing the spray tip towards the wall or your hair.

Then there’s Magic Johnson. He wound up with his indiscriminate sex life catching up with him (Arther Ashe, BTW, chided Johnson because he felt that Johnson gave blacks a bad name because Johnson didn’t keep it in his pocket) . Perfect candidate for VA. Yeah, those adventures with Mimi while Gil was out of town non-coaching his team in a Holiday Tournament landed him right in Dr. Paper Pusher’s dog house and it was all over but the paperwork. Starting point guard for VA this coming winter, fer sure.

And the following scene, courtesy of Mr. Pryor

WHAM!!!!!!!!!!!

“Oakwood, that’s going to cost you 10 yards cuz I already lost one eye and I ain’t playin’.”

In the Valley Alternaive huddle

“Roh, give me the ball.”

WHAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Next time, I’ll be rippin’ out the other cheek from your butt.”

In the Valley Huddle on 1st and goal

“Roh, give me the ball.”

WHAM!!!!!!!!!!!!! SQUEEEGIIIEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

“I ripped Gil’s hair out that time, Oakwood, I don’t care how much VO5 he put on it. I’ll eat my own if I have to.”

In the huddle for the PAT

“Roh, give me the ball.”

But that’s football and we’ll let Nasty Brown and Charlie Roh work out their differences on running back duties, not to mention let you fill in the blank on the final score. Good thing Chet Ballard didn’t fuck with Jim Brown and check his background. That WOULD be like jumping off the Milford School Corporation Annex building.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Marty Moon To Appear In Milford Small Claims Court Over Dispute With Mudlark Lakes Resort!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“If I’d known that waiving the fee meant that Peaches and I had to sleep in separate bunks, I would have packed my chastity belt in my suitcase.”

 

And we can’t leave this puzzle wrapped in an enigma at The Bucket and just relive old times and wish no hard feelings and get the Hell on to Gil’s golf game, already in progress. Nope, we gotta drag this plot that won’t die into another plot that just started and won’t die but might take until the end of July for it not to die. We have to line up the court time so that it doesn’t conflict with Milford Flea Market Open Market held every 3rd Saturday in the month after the 2nd Tuesday, make sure Luhm waxed and buffered the damn court before the Clash of the Titans with the ex-Titans, sign the contracts with the officials and, by God, they better honor their contract. Games with haves and have-nots still count in the record book. I tell you one thing, Gil would make the zebras live up to their end of the bargain if he weren’t trying to dig one out of the sand trap.

“YEAH!!!!!!!!!! We got Havlicek on our side. And Henry “Hank” Finkel in the middle!!!!!!!!!! He had Carhee running wind sprints in practice at the pace of a cheetah, he was so intimidated.

If ya kiss and make up and exchange deer tags and still bet ya can drink more Stroh’s at the Milford Stop ‘n’ Sludge Bar in a friendly competition and the winner gets a free hose job in his abdomen, courtesy Milford General, ya might be a redneck.

“…and that’s the 10th batter plunked by the New Thayer pitching staff. I’ve seen Coach Thorp do a lot of non-coaching but this is ridiculous. Won’t anybody take charge????”

A few minutes later on the mound with New Thayer at bat

“Gonzo, give me the ball.”

Oops, sorry, I forgot Jim Brown is with Valley Alternative. Oh well, just pretend. Who’s gonna notice? Certainly not Gil.

And we’re rounding out the lineup in P3. Bill Laimbeer has been sent to the school because of his bad boy image and should be cleared for the starting lineup this Friday. Hank Finkel was sent to VA for being the 12th man on his high school reserve team and still making an NBA roster. Should be cleared to sit on the bench this Friday. He and Gil have a lot in common. Well, Gil doesn’t have a mustache and isn’t 7 feet tall. Finally, Johnny “Red” Kerr was sent to the school because he wore the nastiest looking gym shorts at an NBA Old-Timers All-Star Game and had the nerve to have a broadcasting career for the Bulls (gotcha, again, Robmize!!!!! Hey, it wasn’t the Cubs this time (ha ha)) . The game should go without a hitch.

 

At Milford High School Gym one Saturday morning

“Give me the ball.”

“This is a wrestling invitational, Mr. Brown.”

“Sorry. My bad.”

 

“And we’ll be back to see if Red Kerr is able to play after his jock strap came up missing and he’s forced to rummage through the lost and found hamper in the locker for a spare after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”

 

At the Thorp household one evening

“Mommy, why is Daddy shaking the bed in the billiard room?”

“What????? How long has this been happening?”

“We were watching Archie TV Funnies when we thought it was an earthquake. Me and Jaime covered our heads like you always told us. When the sky wasn’t falling, we didn’t know what to do.”

Mimi walks toward billiard room where Gil is playing “Vehicle” by the Ides of March and using the spare mattress on the springs to pretend to have the time of his life.

“Mommy, is Daddy dirty dancing?”

“No, dear, don’t be silly. Gil, what are you doing?”

“Oh, hey, now I know what Honest Abe went through when he slept in separate beds. It must have been too much for The Railsplitter to deny what a man’s got to do to Mary Todd. He couldn’t count sheep or think about how he would do when he ran against Stephen Douglas. He had to jumo on the other bed and go to town. I heard the whole town of Springfield used to hear Mary Todd’s screams of ecstasy.  I understand that’s how he got Tad and Willie. I’m just recreating the event.”

“Mommy, did Abe Lincoln really get Tad from humping a feather bed?”

“No, Honey, of course not. Your daddy needs to learn that he doesn’t need to read history books to have some fun.”

“And Mimi, there was the time that he went to bed with that hooker. It was in the SAME BED!!!!!!!!! Some historians say it was a myth but so was George Washington chopping down the cherry tree. But George didn’t get any kids from not telling a lie. At least Lincoln had a head start with a myth when he married Mary Todd.”

“Gil, YOU can get a head start and you don’t have to go to Johnny Appleseed for this kind of stimulation. I have FedExed several cases of EREC-3500 laxatives so you can get movement in both directions. You can make your own history and we can sleep in the same bed.”

“I won’t have to use a Pinkerton to guard the house while I’m pretending to have fun with Mary Todd?”

“Mommy, do Pinkertons get erect too?”

“When my children were slightly confused about the birds and the bees, it was time to face my problem straight in the eye. With treatment programs that work, the Milford Men’s Clinic promises you will share the same bed at the Milford Marriott or they will cheerfully refund your money. And you can keep David Herbert Donald’s book on the dresser while you’re goin’ to town. Sounds like Era of Good Feeling to me. Come get down, only at Milford Men’s Clinic.

 

Thank you for your support, Gang. Still think they ought to start Red Kerr. He can’t help it if all jock straps smell like halitosis and VO5. Anyway, God bless you, Gang.

 

“Give me the ball, Coach.”

“Still gotta get it out of the water. Kaz, hand me my 9-iron.”

 

Recreating Richard Pryor, one night at Milford Lounge

“Gentlemen, I believe the coach can better express himself if you let him go.”

Gil being restrained by 12 men

“Any of you buttholes release me and I’ll cream yo’ ass later. Now just ease my ass out the door and leave Mr. Brown in peace. We might need him for the football plot.”

May 28, 2020

Settin’ This Plot On Fire

Filed under: hands in the air, Pointy Fingers, The Bucket — tdrewhardin @ 3:58 am

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Dump your cleats and uniform

We’ll talk and hug where the Coke is warm

Lack of progress is the norm

Tonight we’re settin’ this plot on fire

 

You’re my gal and I’m your feller

Clean up so that you’ll look sweller

Gil’s a coward who turned yellar

Settin’ this plot on fire

 

We’re takin’ all the corner booths

We’re hoggin’ all the fun

We’ll show the kids that we don’t care

And gittin’ nuthin’ done

 

You be daffy and I’ll be dilly

This plot’s so goofy and plain damn silly

It’s worse than The Bucket Bowl of Chili

Settin’ this plot on fire

 

And what can I say? Phoebe returns as if we might squeeze in a love story or a couple more softball games before reality hits and we realize that golf is right around the corner. No, Phoebe, I wouldn’t be switching gears and be The Mayor’s object of affection while pulling a Kirk Gibson on us in the same week. Too much juggling before Gil hits the links. It’s a great idea, Bill Mazeroski circling the bases to beat the Yankees in 1960 with that improbable home run only to greet his wife at home plate. Hold the roast, honey, until the home plate umpire makes my home run official. You’d be surpised how many marriages were created by attending The Mayor’s graduation at Boys Town after Phoebe parked one in the concession stand behind left field to win the Valley Conference Regular Season Title.

But the timing’s horrible. You’d better park one before you can say “Gil still has time to qualify for The Masters and just needs some more practice with his getting on the green to shore up his game”.

And where’s Gonzalo Aceves? Is “Don’t call me ‘Gonzo’ or I’ll dump Bucket Chili on your head” going to be part of the festivities tonight or did he go back to the suitcase for the ventriloquist to pull up later during football? He couldn’t catch anybody’s attention during baseball season even if he slammed the door and saved a couple of games when the baseball plot finally turned in its physical. Maybe he’ll have better luck with Charlie Roh in the backfield. They can both share running back duties without Rudderless Rooney showing up at halftime and sentencing them to reform school because they didn’t turn in their essay on “Animal Farm”. Or maybe we can throw in Aceves and Alexa getting engaged after Milford trounces Oakwood, 73-0. Oops, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let’s worry about cramming details and characters for football until Fall. We have enough loose ends and expendable characters to cram into Spring without trying to fit Charlie Roh in the scheme of things. Oh, I got it, he can be Gil’s caddy. Gil has enough on his mind trying to beat Tiger for the final spot at Augusta without some clown not having Gil’s putter ready. Strike while the iron is hot.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“WDIG To Cancel Hank Williams 4-Hour Special This Sunday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Spokesperson says that Louisiana Hayride performance, the penultimate show before ending tour at Milford High School Gym, got erased by sound engineer. WDIG Station Manager issues public apology.”

 

And what better to continue this Plot-for-the-Day than to embrace a Spicoli Moment on Fast Times at Milford High? We’ve already seen Charlie Roh blindside his step-dad because he did the equivalent of smashing Charlie’s Trans Am into the Milford Water Tower but continuing from yesterday, Spicoli and The Mayor ordered several pizzas from Milford Pizza Parlor and distributed them among the Softball Mudlarks. Hey, Mr. Hand isn’t around and there’s no hard feelings even though I had to go to Shawshank and Spicoli didn’t. Rooney didn’t smell the reefer in his shorts? It may not be a butter knife or a weapon but it’s still illegal. On school grounds, both are grounds for due processing. Don’t walk into Gil’s office with a doobie and test the theory unless you are Spicoli. He may share reliever duties with Gonzo the Z.

Anyway, pizza is a perfect good-will gesture, as well as hugging the life out of the one person who was less than enthusiastic when The Mayor sprinkled Chem-Lawn on his pepperoni. And pizza is a good way to bribe Mimi for more PT. If she didn’t run off The Mayor because, as the readership pointed out, he could be technically illegal because  his expulsion in all likelihood extended to Mudlark school activities, then she can likely be bought. Here, Coach, want a slice? We know you like Canadian bacon. You’re pencilled in the starting lineup fer sure.

 

 

“Dammit, Muench, if you’re going to violate team rules, would you please make sure the 3-meat special has no anchovies? That stuff makes me fart in the middle of the night!!!!! Mimi has to sleep on the sofa in our living room. And next time YOU tip the Domino’s driver.”

“Sorry, Coach.”

 

 

Hugging her like he would his mother

Up one storyline and down the other

This is too confused, oh brother

Tonight we’re settin’ this plot on fire

 

Ordering a stale cheeseburger

Gulping those French fries can be murder

Slurping shakes that taste like Gerber

We’re settin’ our butts on fire

 

We’ll put aside a little time

Softball’s almost through

Baseball team was playin’ fine

But the gaps were showin’ through

 

Just sit on the bleachers and I’ll start howlin’

How Andy did all the law’s allowin’

Tomorrow I’m at Valley in my books a-plowin’

Settin’ this plot on fire

 

Wondering what a Circle K locator is and assuming you consult the matter on a computer to find out online

 

“Dr. Pearl, why are you under your desk? The students can see your slip.”

“I’m looking for my GAF Viewmaster. I dropped it when my elbow hit it when I was writing my District Board End Of Year Party Concession Purchases Report-2013. I need it to locate that new Milford 7-11 they built by Milford Federal.”

 

And it most definitely looks like we’re picking up where we left off in P2 when Alexa was in the hallway with Phoebe and suggested that he was in love with The Mayor. The ensuing  playful tap that was administered didn’t reach proportions of Mimi swatting Alexa’s ass with Mimi’s spare catcher’s mitt but it delivered the message. We could have a love story and One Shining Moment. Sharing a bicarbonate protein-enriched egg-induced chocalate drink out of The Mayor’s Thermos after some vigorous kissing and petting after Phoebe speared one to end the game, boy, you knew you were alive. I can hear the song now out of the Muzak system when I take the elevator at Milford Medical Arts Facility.

It’s a pity that all these Shining Moments got interrupted by Instagram photos of Dr. Pearl and Gil and Andy trivializing sports and rendering them useless by their inexplicable actions. Get your ass to The Bucket tonight and let’s set the record straight. If Andy Rooney shuns the truth, he can have my stale cheeseburger. Both got thrown out eventually. You can’t add pickles to the truth, however. My story and I’m stickin’ to it. BTW, doesn’t Andy look sexy in that one Instagram offering? The way he moves his beard munching on Bucket Buffalo Fries while due processing The Mayor, we might have to stave off Mimi when her hot flashes flare up.

 

I’ll gas up my hot rod stoker

Sticking you like a fire poker

You’ll be broke but I’ll be broker

Tonight we’re settin’ the woods on fire…

 

Milford Girls-a-Go-Go Club emcee steps to the mike

“How many want an encore for Coach Shaw!!!!!!!!! Don’t he play a mean jazz guitar!!!!!!!!!”

 

As The Mayor approaches the Boulevard of Broken Dreams side of The Bucket, he has 2 questions

1) Is it really worth going in to engineer a comeback that might prove futile? Sisyphus pushed rocks up and down the heights of Milford forever attempting to fight an unfair-but-seemingly-uncontestable situation. At least Sisyphus could rest in the summer by the time Gil teed off.

2) Is that Humphrey Bogart in there flirting with Alexa? I thought O.J. had the inside track.

 

And then it’s hard not to notice that The Mayor has borrowed a few light bulbs as a tail for his own thought balloon. I believe Funky Winkerbean and Buzz Sawyer employed this technique. Just leave some light while you’re trying to think through and solve the latest crime, Buzz.

And you old-timers will remember, speaking of Funky, when that classroom chair in a random classroom would execute its own though balloons, bitching from about how students misused them by leaning back in them too far  to carving initials about students’ latest heartthrobs. Those chairs had to utilize the whole Bucket marquee.

 

“Damn!!!!! Doesn’t that woman ever go home? She’s been sitting on me and filling out that report for 15 straight hours without a lunch.”

 

If yore girlfriend with the one molar in her mouth and breasts ya could go bowling down at Milford Lanes with wins the skeet compe-tish-shun at the Milford Con-sur-vay-shun Club All-Comers Tournament and ya celebrate at the Milford Pool Hall by gittin’ loud ‘n’ rowdy and drunker ‘n’ Foster Brooks, ya might be a redneck.

 

“And we’ll be back to see if Archie goes into Pop’s Choklit Shoppe and gets readmitted to Riverdale High School and is forgiven for smashing his jalopy into Mr. Weatherbee’s garage after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”

 

“Folks, I wouldn’t know what to do if I was standing outside Milford Lounge and invited to Clams and Coors Happy Hour after I’d been blackballed by Milford Country Club for brandishing a 9-iron at #10 dog-leg left as a weapon. I’m grateful I can look in the Milford Directory under ‘Lawyers’. Thankfully, there’s another impossible situation that has been worked out and if you have cash or credit, you’re in luck.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse. Boy, have I got some great news for you. Even if Hadley V. is out of town, you can stop worrying about getting cussed out by the Magistrate in the Milford Superior Court system every time you don’t have an answer when you couldn’t walk a straight line after being pulled over. Sometimes you can’t help it if the beer was free.

Milford Beverage Warehouse is now selling Impossible Booze. That’s right, Otis the Drunk will no longer have to spend a night in the Mayberry Jail because he can get drunk off of Bud Impossible Light. The engineers at Milford Chemical have partnered with several alcohol distributors in a unique consortium. They have managed to harness one of the abundant elements in nature, nitrogen, and combine them with barley and malt. Skipping the fermentation process couldn’t be easier and Otis the Drunk can live up to his reputation and still be sober. Amazing how potent nitrogen can be when creating non-alcoholic products. And for $14.99 a case, I’ll get non-drunk all I want with Otis the Clean down at some park bench on the grounds of Milford Sand Volleyball Plaza.

These same scientists were able to extract certain proteins from Colorado snake root and the amino acids from lab mice to create Crown Royal Impossible Canadian Whisky. That’s right, if you have to take a breath-a-lyzer test, isn’t it nice to know you’re covered? You could be 3 times over the legal limit but if you got enough air in your lungs to blow up a zeppelin, you can enjoy The Good Life and still drive legally. The officer will have to hand you back your registration. For $24.99 a bottle, he can stick the damn thing in my glove compartment himself.

The wine and cheese crowd have jumped in on the act. They have mixed grapes stomped on by Texas longhorns and DNA molecules from animal fats to create Impossible Wine. The bums at Milford Skid Row will have a field day. They can down the chicken salad sandwiches they eat every Friday at the Milford Soup Kitchen with a bottle of Impossible Nirvana. And the volunteers at the Kitchen can’t call him a wino. And you can obtain non-wino status too for $13.99 a bottle. If you lose your job and have to resort to the Wednesday All-You-Can-Eat-Ravioli Smorgasbord at the Soup Kitchen, your credit card and an empty stomach is all you’ll need at The Warehouse. Ain’t it nice when you have packaged  Impossible Liquor and the Kitchen still has to fill your plate with unlimited Chef Boy-ar-Dee????? Just hope it ain’t Impossible Ravioli.

Come on down and see how possible the impossible can be. The Milford Beverage Warehouse made it possible by always taking care of its customers, impossible or otherwise. The Warehouse always has security if they get too impossible. Check out the impossiblities and get your slice of the pie in the bargain and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Gang, you mean so much to me. My humor is nothing without you. God has truly blessed me with a faithful readership. God bless you all.

 

“Honeyyyyyyy, I’m hornyyyyyyyyyy. It’s time for you to fire poke meeeeeeeeee.”

“Blubba, blubba, I still gotta practice this song. I want to get every note perfect on ‘The Bucket’s Got a Hole In It’ and make ol’ Hank and the rest of Arkansas proud.”

“Darling, isn’t he from Alabama? And Johnny Cash is from Arkansas. And I believe it’s ‘My Bucket’s Got a Hole In It’.”

“Blubba, blubba, well, you see I gotta work on that and ‘Rose Garden’. The Go Go Club expects no less than a Sinatra performance.”

“Except Lynn Anderson sang ‘Rose Garden’.”

“I beg your pardon, I never promised Gil a rose garden, I’ll be ready after I perfect the last few chords of ‘Your Cheatin’ Heart’.”

“Your Significant Other will tell on you if you don’t take these EREC-3500 pills and a glass of water. Now dwinkkeeeeee uuuppppppp.”

Later that night Coach Shaw melted his Cold Cold Heart

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Thought Dead In The Back Seat Of A Cadillac!!!!!!!!!!! Reportedly Okay And Cleared By Officials At Milford Minor Emergency Clinic!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I was taking a nap and suddenly I was surrounded by the police. They thought I OD’d on Smirnoff’s Impossible Vodka.”

 

 

 

 

 

April 25, 2020

Fear and Loathing at Milford High

gt04252020

Whose win is this?
It’s a save baby.
Whose save is this?
It’s Zed’s.
Who’s Zed?
Zed’s dead baby,
Zed’s dead.

Zed’s dead. Long live Gonzo.

How long can The Mayor’s wise-cracking, non sequitur-spouting, glad-handing schtick keep up? Is it enough to sustain this plot? Keep our attention? I’m having my doubts.

April 10, 2020

Wasnt he a Bulls coach?

Filed under: actual action, baseball, Gil Thorp, hands in the air, Marty Moon, Milford Weirdos — robmize2013 @ 7:23 pm

Where.. the hell does Whigham come up with these schools for Milford to play??

https://ths.mylpsd.com/ Thibodaux High School is in Louisiana, 70 miles from New Orleans.

Jesus; who the hell would drive from the Bayou State to Michigan to play a freakin HIGH SCHOOL BASEBALL GAME??? Especially this time of year when the weather can change 4 times an hour in the Midwest?  Nobody should have to travel longer then Christ hung on the cross on Good Friday just to play baseball. But Thibs does.

Thibs of course is Tom Thibidou , ex-Bulls coach who the Bulls couldnt wait to get rid of because he coached defense and won 60 games. They wanted Freddy Hoiberg and they got him. They got him all right. Freddy allowed more points in a half then Thibs allowed in a game.  The Bulls were so bad they fired Freddy and replaced him with Jim Boylan. Not to be confused with the other Jim Boylan they had for a while. They got the wrong Jim Boylan. Only the Bulls.

Marty has his new laptop and what looks like an old tape recorder in P2. Hey Marty, if we Didnt dodge the snow, the game would likely be postponed.

Of course Mike Knapp not only is number 1, his number is the shortest and fattest 1 I’ve ever seen. I dont like the way he’s standing on the base; he should have his left foot on the third base side of the bag. Hard to believe we dont see one Thibs defender in P3. And that ad on the fence is for hot dogs but .. ops is what I read. Fill in the rest for me.

All Mike is missing is a can of deodorant.

 

March 26, 2020

She Wipes Her Face Of This Whole Affair.

Filed under: big arms, freak hands, hands in the air, Pointy Fingers — tdrewhardin @ 8:55 am

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We TWIMers are anticipating the onset of baseball/softball so that we can get jerked around like a rag doll for another 4 months replete with inchoate mini-plots and directions leading us to No-Man’s Land and we’re left holding the bag how to get OUT of No-Man’s Land. Do you take A-1-A? Yeah, Jimmy Buffett would have better success getting out of Florida than we would escaping from March. Remember that Saturday Night Live sketch where Frank Zappa gets broken down and he has to go to this house where these hippies are like zombies? “Night on Drug Mountain”? And anybody who knew Zappa knew, bizarre as his music was, he never touched a drug in his life. He was VERY politically active and many of his albums are imbued with political messages.

Well, you can imagine the scene.

“Fraaaaaannnnkkkk, so good to see yoouuuu. I got some of this weed fresh in the bowl,  maaaannnnnn.”

“No, thank you, I don’t do drugs. Do you have any jumper cables?”

“Heyyyyyyy, evvverrrrryyyybodyyyy, it’s Frank Zapppppppaaaa!!!!!! Here, Frank, tryyyy some of this LSDDDDDDDDD. It’ll take your minddddd off this plot. Gil will be a thinngggg of the passsssttttttttt.”

“Look, I don’t do drugs. Do you have a phone? I can call AAA and get my car towed. I have a credit card.”

 

And with Dan Akroyd in that ponytail, that confirmed the hilarity of the situation.

“Night on Mudlark Mountain.”

Kaz in a ponytail

“Here, Gillllllllll, I got some coke straight out of the ovvvvveeennnnnn. You ought to try sommmmmmeeeeee. You aren’t going anywhheeeerrreee in this ploootttttt, anyway.”

“Kaz, you know I don’t do drugs. Did you get that Geography Final grade for Chris? I have to have it on Dr. Pearl’s desk by Monday.”

“Oh, Gil, don’t be such a party poopperrrrrr. I have a nice toke under my typewriiiittterrrrrrr. I smoke it when the studentttssssss aren’t loookkkinnngggggg. Open your mind and smelllllllll the cofffffeeeeee, mannnnnnnnn.”

“No thank you, Ms. Rizk. I have a reputation to uphold. Did you get Chris’ AAA record? I understand he’s in arrears and I want to pay the balance before that goes to print in The Trumpet.”

“Heyyyyyyy, no harmmmmmmm, no foullllll. He may have landed on the practice fiiiiieeeelllllddddd but it’s ancient historyyyyyyy to meeeeeeee. And I’llllllll give it a decentttttttt burialllll if you’ll broaden your minnnnnnnddddddd, Gil. And I’ll go half on the towinnnngggggggg.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Mudlark Girls Basketball Ends With 21-Gun Salute!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mimi Thorp: ‘Scriptwriter told me he didn’t have any room in April for the Playdowns and my sermonizing on the softball diamond. I had to flip a coin.”

 

Okay, Mudlark Ladies, it’s time to get up and stretch. Yeah, I’m also gettin’ antsy for this thing to end. What the Academic Rat Race That Ended In Detente had to do with basketball is a free throw do-over because someone entered the lane too soon. Mimi needs to drill her players on proper footwork, maybe stick an anvil in their butts so they don’t lean over, um, er, EUREKA!!!!!!!!! THEY’RE STRETCHING BECAUSE THEY WON!!!!!!!!!!!! Sometimes it doesn’t always register. Like the Vegas gambling house that has no clocks because they want people to keep gambling by losing sense of time, the Mudlark gym has no scoreboard because Thorpiverse wants to keep dragging this along to fill up space until Spring sports and let us draw our own conclusions. Make us think this is a Ban Roll-On commercial.

 

WE WON WE WON

“Yup, we sure did. Have you checked your pits lately? I have some Sure in my locker.”

Raise your arms if you’re Surrrreeeeee

 

What a commercial. Team celebrations in Milford will never be the same.

 

If ya conk out yore bloodhound and all the ticks and fleas on yore bloodhound as a result of lack of usage of Mennen Speed Stick Spe-shull Formula Apple Cider Supreme for longer than this plot, ya might be a redneck.

 

And we won’t have to worry about the Mudlark gym getting COVID-19 thanks to the mosquito netting hanging from the basketball rim in the background. Mudlark girls can flash their B.O. knowing that protection comes in the niftiiest places. Shoot the winning shot at the buzzer and keep the flies away, now there’s a concept you can tell your grandkids. Yup, we won and trounced malaria. Works for me.

Too bad it didn’t get all the fire ants off of Alexa. Poor girl is still concerned about developing her game and now she has another problem to contend with. I’ll go get another towel. It might not help get you a starting spot on UConn’s team next year but you won’t have fire ants eating your corneas. We’ll get something out of the deal.

Better not get too close, Chris. Fire ants and Fake SAT exams don’t mix.

 

And it appears that Chris went to Mudlark Mountain and back, judging by P2. Better watch out, Alexa. No telling WHAT’S going to be at his party. If you’re expecting Lay’s Wavy Chips or Grippo’s Reduced Fat Bar-B-Chips or Diet Coke in 20 oz. bottles or Mudlar-K-Cola Watermelon Wonder in the same size, you might be disappointed.

“Here, Alexaaaaaaaaa, try some of this acid, mannnnnnnnnnn. You won’t have to practice being aggresivvvvvveeeee by knockinggggggg Dr. Pearlllllllll into her file cabinet. This tripppppppp willlllll send your opponent into the cheap seatttttttttsssssss. You’ll be Moses Malonnneeeeee, mannnnnnnn.”

“No thanks, I don’t do drugs. Where’s the Star-Kist tuna sandwiches? Chris said there’d be enough to feed the Valley Conference.”

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Evangelical Camp Meeting Results In 15 Converts, 32 Rededications, and 10 Baptisms At Milford High Girls Gym!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Mimi Thorp: ‘And we won the game!!!!!! Can you Lady Mudlarks say HALLELUJAH!!!!!!!!!!'”

 

And it’s bad enough that this plot had to go to Mudlark Mountain and end things at a pot party but WE’RE STILL WAITING ON SPRING SPORTS!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t get me wrong, to each their own and I’ve always liked Clapton’s Slowhand album that includes the signature tune, Cocaine, but I’d understandably prefer to listen to it as good music, not be the ending to Hoosiers. Jimmy Chitwood ending the plot laced on LSD really wasn’t the fate of the gods. Bobby Plump in the Sky with Diamonds? 15-footer in Marmalade Skies? Try sticking that one on the Milan Water Tower next to “1954 Champs.”

 

“How many fingers am I holding up, Alexa?”

“5?”

“That’s how many bags of pretzels will be at my party. And that midget standing next to me that hit the winning lay-up? That’s how many bowls of quiche will be on the table.”

 

OH GOD NO Puh-llllleewaaaseee tell us we’re not opening up another can of worms with the possible intro of Chris’ girlfriend. We’ve already been through enough ethics-challenging without finding out what SHE’S all about. Or, judging by Alexa’s reaction in P3, there might be a possible thing for Chris. Folks, there are only 12 months in the year. Don’t cram plot development into a glass of Nestle’s Quik. Using a spoon to stir won’t help.

“I didn’t know you had a girlfriend. That McCartney Moment didn’t mean anything? I had a fun time under the sheets at The Lake House.”

“I’m really sorry, Alexa. It was wonderful. Well, gotta go. I gotta pick her up before the Milford Zoo closes.”

Times like these I usually switch over to Buzz Sawyer. There’s no sports in that one either but he usually catches the crook by April. And there’s no mosquito nets on the basketball backboard in his driveway.

But as long as Chris has Fritos and Con Queso dip, I might have some room on my schedule.

 

“Here, Alexa, I got some weed, mannnnnnnn. Freshly grown on some farm in New Mexicooooooooo. So good, they smuggled some across the borderrrrrrrrrrrr.”

“No, thanks. Hey, Chris, don’t put away that Amish potato salad in the fridge just yet.”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Nancy Kassebaum. She was a very powerful Senator from Kansas for 18 years, able to enact legislation that made a difference from improving affordable health care to removing Apartheid in South Africa. Her father, Alf Landon, a man who lived to 100, was a famous presidential candidate in 1936, so she was no stranger to politics. In fact, she became the 2nd woman to win a Senate seat without her husband first occupying that seat. She has always displayed good judgment and has voted middle of the road on several issues, despite coming from a heavily Republican state (her own party affiliation, BTW) such as her native Kansas. Please join me in saluting a person who has displayed quality leadership when it counted and made this nation that much stronger through her well-balanced style.

 

“We’ll return to The Olde Tyme Gospel Hour at the Milford Girls Gym after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV. Don’t go away.”

 

“Amen, Sister Mimi. That was a great homily about The Sermon on the Mount. Probably the key to the game. And we rallied from 14 points down in the 4th quarter. Uncle Mo was on our side. Blessed are the meek.

And what better way of celebrating The Prodigal Son returning home to get the key rebound than to have a clearance sale. The timing couldn’t be better.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp on behalf of Milford Beverage Warehouse and with the COVID-19 epidemic keeping our customers from coming to El Dorado, that’s even more of a reason to clear ’em out and I don’t mean Alexa puttin’ a body on Ms. Rizk’s typewriter so that it can get an easy put-back.

Man o man, I couldn’t believe Knob Creek Straight Bourbon piled high to the ceiling because nobody wants to get drunk and do it with Rocky Raccoon. Gotta slash the prices if you want to bring ’em back in their gas masks. Best coaching advice I ever gave.

Boy, Jameson Irish Whiskey in 750 ml at a throat-cutting $14.99 and that’s not even counting the coupon that’ll knock off another 2 bucks. Shoot, the cashier we’ll even apply hand sanitizer to your coupon so that you don’t get sick off of Jameson and the virus too.

And the good people at The Warehouse got tired of using a bulldozer to plow through the cases of Miller Lite 30-Pak 12 oz. cans to get to the restroom so they slashed the price to a ridiculous $9.99 so that sanity could be restored on the way to the john. My goodness, for a dollar more, they’ll throw in Latex Sanitary Gloves you can use to help carry the booze to your vehicle. No sense in contracting The Plague while sippin’ The Good Life.

 

And when one of The Warehouse employees is practicing climbing Mt. Everest by punching a piton into a mountain of Bogle Vineyards Select cartons, I think it’s safe to say The Warehouse better reduce the backstock. For $7.79, you can be a Cheese and Wine whiner and if you brought your calculator you use to calculate your piece count at your factory, you can be an even cheaper whiner if you can figure the 10% off that price to the nearest tenth. Good deals, good booze, clean hands, and mold-free Roquefort, sounds like Whiner’s Paradise to me.

Keep yourself safe through these trying times and when you feel justifiably disinfected, come on down and partake of the clearance sale now happening at The Warehouse. Prescriptions don’t just get prescribed at Milford Apothecary. Come buy what the doctor ordered at prices that won’t make you regurgitate and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

Gang, stay safe. Follow the Center for Disease Control guidelines to the best of your ability. Don’t underestimate this one. That and common sense and I like the odds. God bless you all.

 

CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!! SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPLASH!!!!!!!!

“You know you could have used a step-ladder. There’s one in the closet. Now we have to mop up all this Captain Morgan Spiced Rum. We might have a few bottles before the store opens.”

 

 

In Dr. Pearl’s office one day

“Heeeerrreeee, Gil, I have some more crack in my fiilllllleeeee cabinetttttt. You oughta try someeeeee.”

“No way. I tried that in the Marines. Did push-ups with my ears buzzing all day. Did you ever get Chris’ girlfriend’s transcript FedEx’d here?”

 

 

 

March 6, 2020

Think you’ll ever take your vest off?

Filed under: freak hands, hands in the air — robmize2013 @ 11:36 pm

Like 2 mighty ships passing in the night, the heavyweights of Milford academia run into each other in the library. I sense a truce developing between them, as if Alexa knows Chris wouldnt cheat given the opportunity just like she turned down Divot Head. They both know how hard it is to keep up such a lofty ranking and the only true way to settle who’s number 1 is to do it fairly.

Thats what I hope.

Of course the comic strip reality is she thinks he is using the old test sheet, and if he beats her out, will accuse him of cheating. But the evidence is crumpled up in a garbage can. Who knows how this will turn out; the problem for Chris is if Divot Head is questioned he will say he gave Chris the test. He didnt see Chris throw it away.

P3 can be spun different ways too. Is Chris saying the workload cant get any worse, or that this time of life for these 2 will never be exceeded? When they sit on top of the class looking down on the other 400 or so students, if only on a numerical list in cyberspace? Alexa sounds like she is reading his mind as to the meaning of his vague question.

Gee, if high school is the highlight of ones life, thats a pretty sad life, no matter how well one did.  I finished 250th out of 330, in a very smart class by the way, (my college career was also very forgettable academically) and the rest of my life has largely been way more successful then those 4 years, which at this point are a blip on the radar. I figure financially I’m doing better then half of the kids I finished behind. Thats a good goal to shoot for for those C students who never once make the honor roll, and if I ever give a speech at one of these things (seriously doubt it but you never know) that would be the gist of it.

February 1, 2020

Alexa ist Deflatermaus

gt02012020

Nothin’ but action to take us into February, so let’s get to breakin’ it down.

P1: The Milford boys come out to cheer on the Milford girls and show off their nose-picking techniques. Left to right: the “Flying Fickle Finger of Fate,” the “Little Jack Horner,” and the discreet “Raiding the Booger Vault While I Pretend to Cough.”

P2: Those are some freaky hands but not gonna lie, that’s a pretty good drawing of someone stuffing someone else’s shot. Compare these examples from a Wisconsin-Purdue game and Freeport-Yarmouth high school game in Maine.

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Right?

P3: The fun is about to come to a crashing halt as Alexa dislocates her right leg (this has been a running theme this season) in an attempt to trip up the Valley Tech defender. Can Alexa catch Phoebe’s pass, make the shot and break the tie before she collapses to the floor, writhing in pain? Check back a few hours after the end of the Super Bowl…

January 22, 2020

Lightening the Load, or Taking It?

gt01222020

The Thorpiverse is known for its occasional stilted dialogue and colloquialisms (the constant use of “ease up” to name one) but it’s by no means the worst offender in the realm of the comics. (Try reading a week’s worth of Funky Winkerbean or 9 Chickweed Lane and you’ll see what I mean.) Still, context is everything in the Valley.

Take today’s strip. If you read the narration box in parallel with the dialogue, you get that Susan Wilcox (née Wilcox-Olson; maybe she got divorced since the last game?) has lightened the mood with her lame joke and lightened her teammates’ loads by taking shots every chance she gets. If you read them in sequence, you might get that Susan is capable of things unfit for print.

But hand it to Susan: she’s singlehandedly helped solve Mimi’s offense problem, at least for the Central game. Solving Alexa’s obsession with her stats – or undoing Mimi’s toxic scoring advice to Alexa – is a load she doesn’t need to take.

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