Girls Just Want To Play Ball

Didn’t the Mudlark Girls Basketball season just whiz on by? I know they only play five games but I couldn’t even go to the fridge for a Grape Nehi, I might miss something. Isn’t Mudlark Girls Basketball Camp just right around the corner? Oh, there’s softball. No problem. Once the homer umpires are lined up, the 6-game season, grueling though it sometimes is, oughta be done before you can say Daffy Duck.

And I’m connecting a lot of dots here. Mimi “No Games” Thorp is overloadin’ on the Hills Brothers to conceal her true colors, i.e., she checked in last week at Milford Detox Center because the bottle was getting the better of her. We know, Mimi, a 5-game season can stretch your mental health and the dam just broke. Go party ’til it’s 2099 (we already passed 1999) and don’t worry about Gil. He has plenty of Reader’s Digest Condensed Books to keep him busy. We at least we know what he’s been doing when the coaching was ebbing in his life. Oh, also, when the Cocoa Puffs bird’s wife was in the hospital because she was going through labor pains (Well, SOMEBODY’S got to take Mr. Cocoa Puff’s bird’s place when he retires; why not his son/daughter?) , Gil filled in on a dime. He might be bouncing off the wall in the office after all the Cocoa Puffs he ate after enduring several commercial shoots but Kaz can cart in a dolly full of bananas from the cafeteria. Anyway, next time you see a psycho with a Joe Friday precipice advertising Lucky Charms or Cocoa Puffs, assume Lucky the Leprechaun and Koko the Cuckoo took a personal day and Gil had a bye week.

 

Oh yes, it’s Ladies’ Night

And she dumped Gil tonight

Oh yes, it’s Ladies’ Night

She’s drinkin’ Sprite

 

As part of Black History Month, Kool & The Gang, a group I deeply respect and admire, will be helping me today to scorch Mimi, who evidently has a lot of time on her hands and a lot of money if she’s spending MORE time at Darney’s Pub than in the gym, teaching her girls how to shoot free throws. At least get Gil’s lazy ass off the concrete slabs he was sitting on and let him be a proxy coach. He might see an epiphany along the way and the girls out-free throw the opposition, if they don’t learn any plays. Heck, I bet they don’t even know how to DRIBBLE or PLAY DEFENSE, Mimi’s been a slum landlord. But with Gil leading the way to teach them that there is no one guarding you and pummel the opposition without grasping the Give-and-Go? It can happen.

 

We might as leap over Girl’s Basketball, it was a speed bump anyway. Honestly, has ANYONE seen the girls play this season?  I will croak if they have Midnight Madness. How can you have Senior Night? Where would you hold it since it’d be silly to stage the event in a venue that wasn’t used by the girls at all, save for Girls P.E., and I’m not even holding my breath on THAT one. It’s kind of unique to have varsity letter winners in a sport they had zero participation in. We’ll get ’em next year. At least the Cubs showed up when they said the same thing.

And while Gil is getting tendinitis of the gluteus maximus while reaching the 1000th page of “War and Peace”, Mimi is engrossed in Peggy Sue’s culinary habits (“Peggy Sue/I love you/But cover your mouth when you chew/O Peggy, My Peggy Sueeeeeeee…”) at a dive started by Barney Fife from the money he saved from the Mayberry R.P.D. Retirement Fund (C’mon, you know Barney the Dinosaur couldn’t have had a hand in this-serving Gerst to the kids?-“WOW, that stuff’s too strong to be a Yoo Hoo!!!!!!! And you don’t need a chaser for Grape Kool-Aid!!!!!!!!!!!!” “Barney, you look funny with foam on your mouth”, all the kids giggling and snickering from Sideshow Bob’s remark) .

That’s right, Mimi. You’re so preoccupied with losses from graduation next year, not to mention Peggy Sue’s slurping Heinz Ketchup from the Nacho Fries Barney imported from Taco Bell that you hardly noticed that bowl of Cream of Wheat onthe table and the upside-down bottle of Cutty Sark you wash it down with. Yeah, I’ll admit Denny’s ketchup packets are not priority for me when eating nachos but it’s not like you’re at Dairy Queen and Peggy Sue is pouring horse radish on a Peanut Buster Parfait.

“Well, I love you, gal/And your choices make me puke…” , Buddy Holly ready to rip into another riff

 

And I’ll give the benefit of the doubt that that’s a “B” in the window, lopped off cleanly by the panel edge. Also, Freddy Mercury, after he cut his hair, is in the background serving more Cream of Wheat and Dunkin’ Donut &  Bar-B-Q Chicken Surprise to that lady with a clinical case of harelip. Or maybe she stapled her mouth shut so she wouldn’t overdo it on the Quaker Oats Cinnamon and Schlitz.

 

 

 

 

Digging into peach ‘n’ plum quiche

Wash it down with something nouveau-riche

Leave Gil without a leash

To watch the kids

 

Oh yes, it’s Children’s Night

And Gil’s not even in sight

Oh yes, it’s Children’s Night

And that’s a fright

 

Thanks, Kool, again. Love your music. You were always yourself and that will ALWAYS sell.

 

And whattya know, Yakov Smirnoff just came in, ready to indulge in the upcoming Quaker-Oats-and-Vodka Fellowship, sponsored by Milford International Ministries, to warn Mimi:

“In America, you can always find Peggy Sue’s party and Barney Fife’s watering hole. But in Russia, the party finds you and they dump Fife in Siberia down a hole somewhere.”

Thanks to the mysterious Sarcastic Jack for help with the last comedy idea and bringing his oregano to Barney’s Pub

Which reminds me

Because I’ma little perturbed that a group of kids were suspended for having a bag of oregano, a harmless spice, in their possession at school, including one who just had it for 30 seconds, passing it from one student to another, ALL BECAUSE IT LOOKED LIKE marijuana (Common sense, School Board, next thing you know, I’ll get arrested for possession of Coffee-Mate in my Wal-Mart shopping bag under the passenger seat because it looks like cocaine)

Dr. Pearl, still hung over from heartburn from her Meat Loaf ‘n’ Grits and Ale, looks up from her table at Fife’s Fine Pub and Dining and notices Mimi and her girlie girls with a Glad bag of Cream of Wheat, Reduced Fat, Gluten-free, Zero Calorie, Low Microwave AND  a bag of oregano.

]Gulping a quick pair of tums she snatched out of beehive and summoning Friday and Gannon in the next booth, still plunging their sporks into Baked Chicken Alfredo & Pommes Frites, dipped in Marinara Sauce and sprinkled with bits of Lucky Charms, while sating their thirst with Canada Dry Ginger Ale (can’t drink on the job) Mimi and the rest of the Go-Go’s are surrounded.

“Awwwwright, police officers!!!!!!!!!! Get your hands up where we can see them!!!!!!! And take off that Barney Rubble mask, Peggy Sue!!!!!!! You’re at the wrong Barney’s!!!!!!!! I’ll let that slide THIS time!!!!!!!!”

Mimi is perplexed

“What’s the charge?” Writ of Habeas Corpus never was so enthralling.

‘Violation of Milford Penal Code 219, Section 82, Article V, Clause 13, “Possession of imitation controlled substances with intent to sell and traffic to the public, such as an eating establishment!!!!!!!! You ladies get your kicks off of taking  some kid’s lunch money so he can snort some couscous??????”

“Mr. Friday, I’ve always watched your show and the lessons I’ve learned from them, such as how to fend off a prowler with a Mr. Coffee appliance-”

“Mimi, you’re in trouble this time. I knew something was wrong when you ditched the season. I always wondered why you disappeared after a TV time-out. Now I KNOW. You were free-basing parsley.”

“I was going to add this Cream of Wheat Sourdough Blend to this pile of nachos. The Dijon mustard was too spicy and giving me the runs. I thought I’d neutralize the recipe.”

“That’s what they all say. But I’m bettin’ Gannon’s Lions Club lapel on his tweed jacket you’ll be draggin’ on cilantro next. Couldn’t handle the hard stuff??? Peppermint too strong for your nose??? Book ’em, Dan-O.”

“Isn’t that Hawaii Five-O?”

“I’ll write the script around here, Mrs. Jalapeno Pepper addict, thank you. Check their purses for ketchup stains. I understand they were peddling Frisch’s Big Boy Burgers w/ Nutrasweet on the black market. That’s a powder only Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds could love.”

“And Mimi, next time you have your girls going door-to-door selling Earl Grey herbal tea leaves rather than World’s Finest Chocolate to raise money for the team, PLAY THE DAMN SEASON!!!!!!!!!!”

“Watch your language, Ma’am. Fife got religion at a Billy Graham Crusade last month at the Milford Convention  Hall.”

“Sorry, Joe.”

 

Rum and cheese lady

Drunk with rabies

Unsophisticated Mimi

Come on, you without a team

Drink like there’s no referees, yeah

 

Oh yes, it’s Ladies’ Night

And B-Ball’s not in sight

Oh yes, it’s Ladies’ Night

That really bites

 

And based on P2 and the above lyrics, you KNOW I have another Milford Beverage Warehouse commercial up my sleeve. Stay tuned. In the meantime, enjoy, I say, enjoy the funny Mimi uttered while imbibing her (maybe) umpteenth glass of Martini & Rossi.

 

Shout-out goes to Craig Holt of Louisville, Kentucky, who today helped many ladies get their seat belts on while riding the bus. That’s what I like about Craig. He’s always at the ready to help ANYBODY who is in need. There is not a negative nor a phony bone in that man’s body. Factor in that he always comes to work READY TO WORK and does so with a smile shows you how America is the better with people like him. He is always so giving and his smile is contagious. I salute you, Craig. America needs you.

Then there’s P3. Gang, didn’t I just get done with Monsters in Milford? Evidently not, given the flying saucers buzzing around the room. Oh, those are LIGHTS. Or maybe Spielberg went the B movie route and is filming on location “Attack of the Amazon Bumblebees”. But since we’re trapped in a hopeless plot, we might as well take roll call and include Annette to the roll call of Mouseketeers. She was just running late from her non-basketball game. It went into overtime. Surely Ms. Latecomer isn’t referring to Booby. Man, he’s tried many hats but Mouseketeer is one he needs to leave in his locker or back on the shelf he hocked it from at Milford Novelty & Gifts.

 

Today’s Black History Month entry is one you’ve already heard of but I want to include him here because I’m angry that his whole career wasn’t publicized. I’m talking about Scott Joplin, yes, the one who wrote “Maple Leaf Rag”. And he was indeed VERY instrumental in Ragtime music, “The Sting” promulgating his music throughout the movie. BUT Joplin was a think-outside-the-box kind of person, much to the chagrin of his publishers. They said that if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, but Joplin was too brilliant to be confined to a single genre of music. He had envisioned for years to write an opera score, and understanding that the readership might not take to opera so keenly (understandable) , STILL, he wrote arguably one of the Top 50 operas of all time, “Treemonisha”. The plot was based upon a girl, Treemonisha, who wanted only things to get better after the Civil War had ended. Initially, it was not popular, as people were tired of war and the opera was written during that period of burn-out but caught hold as the ravages of war faded and people began to give a listen. Joplin succeeded in rising out of a rut that was only getting more hopeless and lived to tell about it. Please join me in saluting Mr. Joplin who teaches us all that those that say they can are absolutely right.

 

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhh, get a T.O., Auguistus Caesar, the Centurions are runnin’ Lions back in their cages!!!!!!!!!! I’m smellin’ a run, Baby!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“And that is what Coach Augustus is doing. Time out on the floor, with the score, 39 dead Lions and 34 dead Centurions.’

 

“Ladies, lookin’ for a place to go to get away from your hubby? Well, Friday Night at Milford Beverage Warehouse is Ladies’ Night and if you’re a woman, you’ll receive half off on all your favorite liquors. Hi, Mimi Thorp here, taking over for Gil who’s on assignment, tucking the kids in bed.  That’s right, leave your attitude, the kiddies, and your wife-beater at the door because the Warehouse is gonna party in style. This Beer Bacchanalian Feast is gonna have all your liquors all over the Warehouse with a live DJ spinnin’ the records while you dance and drink. Man, it’s nice not having Gil around pestering me about the kids while I get it on to ‘Disco Duck’ while sipping on some Maker’s Mark. And you shoulda seen Mrs. Kaz doin’ the Travolta, including splits while all the spotlights from the Milford Shop Class were gleaming brilliantly on her while she was drunk with the spirit and some Heineken Dark Malt. AND SHE DIDN’T SPILL A DROP!!!!!!!!! Hard to do when ‘YMCA’ is playing. And if slow-dancing to ‘Sail On’ by The Commodores with a Clos du Bois Chardonnay in your hand is your thing, the DJ has that on his set list too. Just don’t slow dance with someone like Dr. Pearl if you don’t want the gossip mill to spread all over Milford. What’s at the Warehouse stays at the Warehouse.

Anyway, come thirsty and happy and wearing a bra, as all bare-chested specimens will be assumed to be a man, this Friday Night and melt your Blues away. After all, Milford Beverage Warehouse is an Equal Opportunity Liquor Distributor. Come this Friday and get drunk on ‘From each according to her ability, to each according to her need.’ Groucho Marx couldn’t have said it any better. See you Friday.”

 

Gang, comment away. I’ll be in the corner, trying their Cream of Wheat Key Lime Nacho Chips. As long as I watch my sodium, I oughta be OK.

 

So if Yakov Smirnoff brings his imitation controlled substance to Fazoli’s, I’m assuming he can still order. I don’t think the KGB cases Italian food joints in Milford. Yet.

“Okay, kiddies, let’s sample this Bugs Bunny cup. Mmmmmm, I think it’s a Bud Lite. Do you boys and girls agree?”

 

This is your night

Tonight

Everything will die

In flight

 

This is your night

Tonight

Wine stains on your teeth

Soooooo white

 

This is your night

Tonight

This plot’ll disappear

Out of sight

 

This is your night

Tonight…

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Once Again, We Are Confronted With (Select Random Milford Student On The Screen) And His/Her (Select One: Ghosts, Shaky Past, Generic Problems) That Will Supplant (Select One: Football, Basketball, Baseball, Golf or Hockey or Track, Depending On How The Plot Shakes Out For The Latter Three).

 

Gang, looks like we have set aside Snoopy battling the Red Baron in the name of warding off the Commies from billboard vandalism and now we’re plopped in a sudden jerk of direction for the, you guessed it, the soap opera version of the strip. If you can imagine “Days of our Lives” in the middle of “The Sporting News”, you have a firm grasp on the situation at hand.

And to put it in perspective, try imagining Ralph Kramden stepping into Gil’s domain, as long as we’re going to sidestep Dr. Pearl because evidently she spends more time down at the Milford Bingo Parlor rather than running a high school, and talking about Norton’s academic woes causing his bowling average to nosedive. Just try, I know you can do it.

“Gil, you and I have been buddies a long time and I remember when you were cleaning out the tail pipes of the Milford Shuttle Lines and mopping up the bathroom floor and usin’ the toilet plunger to shove a lotta doo-doo through the lines so this should come as no shock.

Norton is flunkin’ Algebra I, just seems to have problems figurin’ out the difference between Addition Property of Equality and Denying The Antecedent and he’s also barely passin’ English Composition III. For some reason, he keeps dangling modifiers and writin’ run-on sentences when he’s doin’ his book report on Ivan Turganev’s “A Sportsman’s Notebook”. And cripes, don’t get me started on U.S. Geography. He still thinks Hawaii is a U.S. possession. I hope to God he don’t answer that we annexed the Yukon Territory or he’s gonna flunk his Finals. He’ll never pick up that spare if he keeps insisting that Puerto Rico has a team in the NBA. It ain’t a state yet, pal.”

“I’ll talk with him. He had to have been the culprit who put the message on that billboard by the truck stop “Mediocrity and Stuckey’s are not alike in fact try the new 10-pound Tenderloin sandwich only $599.”

I suppose it’s better than James Brown’s sister being one of the rest of Milford’s 4,567 teachers who down through the years realize it is a waste of time to travel the pipeline to Principal Ek or Dr. Pearl when there’s a convenient detour leading to Gil’s office. In fact, when you hit the front door ( you didn’t notice the flagman with his “Slow” sign?) , you should see the sign that says “Hallway will be closed from 1958 to the present” due to construction on a better plot. Gang, I’d use an alternate route if it were me, even if I had to go to Luhm’s office which, when you think about it, has become a conduit leading to Gil.

So now we are left to slog through the plot just after a couple of days before we witnessed some Jordanesque moves. I guess we really can’t expect the 4,568 teachers to follow suit, not even perform the layup drills just to humor us, so kick back for some more J.R. Ewing and like it. Maybe after we slam down the antenna down on the boob tube a few times, we MIGHT return to basketball. Jerry Pulver ripping down another rebound without having to worry about seeing the Trinity River in the opening of “Dallas? It could happen.

 

Belated shout-out to Courtney Cooper of Louisville, Kentucky, who, though confined to a wheelchair, was out shopping at Wal-Mart and, boy, did she get her money’s worth. 4 bags and a mini-bag testified to her will to get out and about. Like Dan Fogelberg, her choices were clear and she chose to get busy livin’. Her friend, Angela Flanagan was there to guide her along and she is living herself. Angela is making this life worthwhile through her quiet strength, will, and determination. Both Courtney and Angela represent America through their nuts and bolts approach and IT WORKS. Treat them with respect PLEASE.

 

 

“So the badger says to the mushroom, ‘I can go down the hole faster than you can say ‘Hank Finkel’, morel.’

‘Big friggin’ deal’, replied the mushroom, ‘We run the Mushroom Marriott Suites at the tectonic level, rates starting at $57.99 and up, and we also serve Cheerios and Fruit Loops for breakfast while the Milford Holiday Inn doesn’t even serve Cocoa Puffs. I didn’t see you bring your Samsonite!!!!!!!!'”

The Milford Comedy Club ran out of onion rings and are forced to fix up a batch of bagels and lox.

 

“…a zebra from Madagascar???????”

 

If yore pickup has more giddy-up and stop than a dangling modifier cuz yore transmission don’t even run on a sentence, let alone a bottle of Dasani and ya bypass AAMCO ta have Merle and Geech have a look at it, ya might be a redneck.

 

 

CANTCOACHCANTCOACHCANTCOACHCANTCOACHCANTCOACHCANTCOACHCANTCOACHCANTCOACH

GOLF COURSE GOLF COURSE

ERNIE AND HIS PARRRRRROOOOOOOOOTTTTTTTTTTTTT

 

“Dag nab it, Kaz, didn’t I tell you to keep Moon out? If he sees our basketball players going down holes, we’ve got a lot of explaining to do. I wanted to keep this aerobics class a secret to motivate my players without attracting a lot of publicity.”

“Gil, I tried but he snuck through the vents. He used one of the holes to climb up the chute. I caught his camera just about when the team was aerobicizing to

FILION’S DEMMMMMMMMMOOOOOONNNNNSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

 

And while I’m enjoying Mrs. Living in America express her concerns over Filion’s funk, I wouldn’t put it past Thorpiverse to turn this basketball plot into “Invasion of The Body Snatchers.”

“Gil, he used to be able to dunk with two hands but now he can’t even thrown down on a Nerfhoop. Something’s different about him.”

Think about it. Thorpiverse desperate for ratings, attempts a new twist to the plot in the name of bringing back part of the audience who switched over to Roscoe Sweeney. There’s more of a chance of him and Buzz Sawyer playing one-on-one basketball in Sawyer’s driveway than perhaps the next few panels of this strip. I thought I’d never say that but as Dylan said, the times are definitely changin’. So the next thing you know, a pod appears beside Gil’s bed and essentially strangulates Gil and he becomes like Filion and the body-snatching of Milford is complete. Everybody’s got that monotone personality and they screech like an owl when they confront someone who is still human.

Now what do you do?

Invent some antidote, pick up the prescription at Milford Pharmacy, revive the players and incite them to go on to kick some A in the Playdowns and eventually bag another State Championship trophy. Hey, there was an antidote in Snow White. Maybe leave a couple of stragglers, say, Tiki, i.e., keep his pod by his bed, let him be an outcast for a few months and repeat the process in baseball. Instant plot renewal. You can retrieve the fan base once again and still win. In the bag.

 

Gang, remember when the episode on “Happy Days” where Richie Cunningham is trying to get Clarabelle the Clown’s face without his makeup? Like the group Kiss, their makeup was their persona and raison d’etre.

That said, Richie contrives a plot where he’s going to enter the Howdy Doody look-Alike Contest and by getting close enough to the action by being on the premises where he cango behind the scenes, he reasons that he has an excellent chance of photographing Clarabelle without his facade.

Of course, he has to get past the contest per se and the idea of Richie’s standing next to 3 8-year-old boys, all in their Howdy outfits is hilarious when you imagine the discrepancy. Cowboy Bob walks by each contestant to register the amount of applause each contestant gets and when he gets to Richie, the audience understandably applauds with a great amount of incredulity but nowhere near the level of the other three boys.

Still, winning the contest was not the intention, sorta like a Milford Baseball player on some Little League team in Williamsport, Pennsylvania, the team going on to win the World Championship. I’m sure he’d be uncomfortable posing with them, sorta like posing with the Rockettes. Anyway, Richie gets consoled by Cowboy Bob backstage which Richie takes in stride, really, what choice does he have? Especially when Cowboy Bob STILL appears to be oblivious to Richie’s intentions (“Kaz, why is Richie the C taking that basketball rack full of basketballs out to his station wagon?”) .

Suddenly, Richie spots his window of opportunity. Clarabelle the Clown has his makeup COMPLETELY OFF which gets Richie to grab his camera and get a bulls-eye shoot. He runs out of the studio with his prize possession.

In the next scene, Richie is with his parents, bragging about how Life Magazine had been unsuccessfully banging at the door to get his unmasked mug before the world. Richie is in hog heaven when he hears the doorbell ring. it’s Cowboy Bob and Clarabelle the Clown, the latter back in his makeup. And after the intros, Cowboy Bob tugs at Richie’s heart by explaining that if Clarabelle the Clown was ever unmasked, it would be the end of him, like The Joker revealing to the world that Batman is really Bruce Wayne. Richie swallows hard but decides in the end, perhaps wisely enough, to tear up the photograph. Tears of joy come out of Clarabelle the Clown  as Cowboy Bob observes (“All over the living room floor”-Mrs. Cunningham) .

Before we go any further, nobody questioned Richie’s motives when he was clearly a head above the competition? I mean, If Kareem were to enter the same contest and stand next to the same three boys, I’d be wondering what a guy 4 feet taller than the other guys in the room has up[his sleeve. The TV producer or the key grip or the #2 cameraman or even Cowboy Bob just lets Kareem participate anyway?

And where’s he going to put the Howdy trophy if he wins? In the trophy case next to his 1971 MVP Trophy? He’ll tell his grandkids that he slam-dunked Dennis the Menace because Dennis had blond hair and Howdy Doody had a thing for his afro? Cowboy Bob had considered converting to Islam and changing his moniker to Cowboy Shareef Abdul-Aziz?

Then there’s the camera. If a 7-footer with a Polaroid carries it past security and stashes it in the guest locker next to Clarabelle the Clown, knowing the latter is high risk, somebody at WDIG Studios where they hold the show oughta fire the Pinkertons.

“Well, Kareem, I knew you had it in ya. Congratulations!!!!!!!!!”

“Thanks. I was a little worried because Tommy Heinsohn did a nice job with that Revlon painting freckles on himself. But I was confident.”

“And well you should. And that Hank Finkel had no chance. Those Dingo Boots and that Arrow shirt just didn’t cut it. And he got tangled up in his own Howdy strings trying to get a drink of water. You were most definitely a cut above.”

“Thanks, Cowboy Bob.” They shake hands and part ways.

Kareem sees the kill. Headin’ to the locker and

FFFLLLLLLLLLLLLAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

 

At the L.A. Forum one day

“…Kareem, it’d be like Freddy Krueger chopping of your right arm with an axe so you couldn’t shoot the Sky Hook…”

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Places 3rd In The Howdy Doody Look-Alike Contest!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Luhm’s grandsons finish 1-2 in day-long event; Marty Moon disqualified due to goatee.”

 

Gang, have at it. Nothing like Kaz to weigh in when he has nothing better to do than add to the Body Snatcher discussion when he’s not Rent-A-Teacher. Really, Gil could have asked the other 4,566 teachers at Milford High about that pod in Filion’s locker but might have been repelled by Spicoli’s reefer odors in the adjoining locker. So when you’re worried that Filion turns into a zombie, just bail out and go to Kaz and pump some information.

“Kaz, I heard rumors that Filion ate one of the cafeteria ladies.”

“New one on me, Gil. I did notice him snortin’ with Spicoli out in his van but everybody reported for work in the cafeteria.”

 

Finally, I noticed that the world’s (reportedly) oldest human at 120-something was really a sham, her 99-year-old daughter evidently picking up the slack. You can understand my decision to stay neutral in this one.

“No, I saw her down at The Bucket sitting in the Senior Citizen’s Section, chowin’ down on a Bucket Liver Cheeseburger that she got with her Bucket Senior Discount, 15% off one of those babies. I know because I remember she couldn’t drink Mudlar-K-Cola Cherry Burst because the cherry formula would leave permanent stains on her dentures. Had to resort to milk.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Historical Society Doubts Authenticity Of Gil’s Having Had Lunch At The Bucket With Chester A. Arthur.”

sub headline

“Documents confirm that The Bucket was established during Cleveland’s 2nd term; sources also point out that Dr. Pearl was a 9-year-old attending Milford Normal School.”

Late rush? Go to Denny’s.

And I get to describe the ball again being too large for the basket, hence the Cold shooting. Why travel that far and use beachballs? P1 has 2 different squares behind the net. One is short and square, the other is longer and more rectangular. Artist error # 234.

A late rush? If  outscoring a team thats blowing you out 11-6 in garbage time when they clear the benches is a late rush, I’m joining Phi Slamma Jamma.

And its Margie D again in P3, warming our hearts on a cold winters night (yes its the first day of winter), gazing at Gil as if he’s nuts with his remark that they didnt give up. Brian Ulmer is not only the best center you will face, he’s also a man without one.

https://provider.stvincent.org/details/545/brian-ulmer-internal_medicine-indianapolis

 

Frank Gehry’s Fast Food Masterpiece

If you’re not knocked off balance by panels one and two, in which the architect of The Bucket tells Euclid to piss off, then the shifting narrative and stilted dialogue (plus mystery girl in panel two) shouldn’t present too much more of a challenge to parse.

For myself, I can confess nothing but disappointment that we aren’t getting another chance to continue talking about the shitty cars we drove in high school (and/or are driving presently). As it stands, I suppose we’ll have to wait until tomorrow to understand why these characters are being introduced.

Bonus question: Why is the strip’s date inserted front and center of panel two?

Eyesight for the Belligerent

Captain Gilbert didn’t come home

His unborn child will never know him

He’s believed to be missing with a couple of men

They planted 8 bombs inside the gymmmmmmm

 

It’s a boy, Mrs. Gilbert

It’s a boy

 

It’s a boy, Mrs. Gilbert

It’s a boy

 

Hear the joyful celebration in the street

It’s a boy the day we won the Final Heat

 

And gang, I think you know where I’m going with this. After watching “Barry: The Musical” and still thinking Daffy is still Queen of Sleaze, what was Barry expecting? To clear his name up IN THE MILFORD ENQUIRER?????? No, Daffy, I did not get on that UFO with Elvis. I was down at the Milford Moose Lodge with The King seeing if he could revive his career at the Annual Chili Cook-Off and Raffle Ticket Night. Man, some lucky cat was going to have the time of his or her life listening to “Don’t Be Cruel”, “Heartbreak Hotel” and “Suspicious Minds” and drive away in a brand new Cadillac, courtesy of Milford Motors. But no, your story killed his career. Thanks for nothing.

Then there’s Ms. Rizk. Aside from going back to the Granny from Beverly Hillbillies look, she’s gone from calling things straight down the middle to being Ebenezer Scrooge. The Baders are asking for mercy after you sent them through the meat grinder? Humbug! Serves them right!!!! I’m going to call the deputy sheriff and foreclose their house anyway. We’re going to turn it into the Milford High School Journalism Annex by the end of the year!!!!!!

I would like to give a shoutout to Heather Sanders in Louisville, Kentucky.  She may be confined to a wheelchair but her humor isn’t. She is VERY funny and keeps me going with her edgy wit and on-point insight. She makes my job easier and I have promised her that I will do EVERYTHING I can to get her in the next movie my dad does (my dad being a part-time actor). Heather, I intend to keep that promise. Right now, you are shining pretty bright because you deserve a moment in the spotlight. Keep the funny bone pipeline going because, well. YOU’RE FUNNY. YOU ROCK, My Friend.

 

Marty: Gotta feeling ’17 is gonna be a good year

Baseball season’s done and we can putt forever

Mimi: I had no reason to be overoptimistic

But with your 3-handicap, it’s a great endeavor

 

Captain Gilbert, smelly gym towel over the left side of his burned face, after a hard-fought overtime victory over Death, sees Marty and Mimi in bed.

Marty wakes up. Grabbing the 2014 trophy off Mimi’s makeup table, he wacks Captain Gilbert on the right side of the face, careful not to ruin the perm Captain Gilbert has sported for 60 years.

Barry, fresh from sneaking a sip of Cherry 7-Up out of the fridge, wiping the top so that nobody’ll get germs, steps in just as his father’s hair morphs into Hendrix from “Band of Gypsies”.

WHAT ABOUT THE BOY

WHAT ABOUT THE BOY

WHAT ABOUT THE BOY

HE SAW IT ALL

 

You didn’t see it

You didn’t hear it

Not a word of it

Not a sight of it

You’re gonna turn into a jerk

WITHOUT ANY PROOF

 

Now he’s deaf

Now he’s dumb

Now he’s a jerk

The guilty are safe

But always accused

By his asshole ways

 

What’s with this Betty Crocker motivational tool? I can see the commercial.

“Yes, what better way to preclude your friend from using a toilet plunger on a person’s reputation than to discuss the matter over buttermilk scones and tea? Mmm, mmm, and those sourdough biscuits buttered with Blue Bonnet on it tastes better than the stuff you have to swallow about your husband, coming from an amateur Ida Tarbell? Mrs. Olson should be coming in anytime and discussing Mr. Olson and Mr. Whipple (apparently they’re squeezing more than Charmin) having an affair with each other. Yes, Daffy, they’re coming out of the closet so have paper and Paper-Mate ready. After you’ve eaten your 10th sourdough, naturally. Set ’em at 350 and the gossip too and forget it. That’s the Betty Crocker way (“Cooking with Pam” theme whistling in the background)!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“Can’t you see the Christmas lights and all the toys that are so wonderfully enlightening

The Nike shoes, the bats, the balls, I swear it gets to be so terribly frightening

And Barry doesn’t know what day it is

He’s such a jerk, he doesn’t know who Jesus is

HOW CAN HE BE SAVED

FROM LOSING SECOND BASE

 

BARRY, CAN YOU HEAR ME??????? as Mimi whacks Barry with a bat.

 

And has anyone seen Ms. Rizk ANYWHERE but the Journalism room? We assume she takes potty breaks. We assume. And we assume she’s typing, or editing the school newspaper. All this time she’s been typing billet-doux’s to Luhm and  he’s cramming them into his locker at night? Anyway, I haven’t seen her down at the Milford Burger King ordering a Double Beef Whopper and unsalted fries. Or at a car show at the Milford Civic Center parking lot. Still glued to the chair along with Chris Elliott’s parents on “Get a Life”, I see. At least she isn’t in her bathrobe.

Gang, I realize Tommy is overshadowing Daffy today. She will have her day in court. Right now, I’m wagering nobody’s going to put up much resistance to the “DIE IF YOU WANT TO, YOU MISGUIDED PUPPET” approach, long-overdue at that, to Barry Bader. I’m wagering. I only make so much in my paycheck, gang, after taxes.

 

Barry, can you hear me?

Can you feel me near you?

Barry, can you see me?

Can I help to cheer you?

Ohhhhhh, Barry, Barry, Barry…

 

He seems to be completely unreceptive

The love I gave him makes no sense at all

Dale Carnegie is not in his demeanor

He pukes at Albert Schweitzer’s love and calllllll

 

SEE ME

FEEL ME

PLAY ME

ADORE ME

 

SEE ME

FEEL ME

LICK ME

WORSHIP ME

 

There is no chance, no untried operation

All hope lies with him and none with me

Imagine though the shock from isolation

When he suddenly owns up to reality.

 

At the Milford Girls-A-Go-Go Club, Mimi Thorp answers the sign out front that says “Taking applications. Must be 18 or older.” Figuring she still has time before the Playdowns start in August(they’re just doing a light workout today anyway plus some bunting drills), she swings the SUV into the place. Just because they play softball on the 4th of July  doesn’t mean they pay time and a half so Mimi is always up for the extra income.

“Next.”

Mimi Thorp follows the secretary to Al DeWindt’s office. He’s the Personnel Manager.

Al peruses the application. He eyes the “Reason for Leaving” section and notices that she left it blank for her employment at Milford Burger King.

“Why did you quit Burger King?”

Mimi really doesn’t know how to lie. So she confesses.

“I was 16 years old at the time and I told the manager I knew how to make a Whopper. I wanted to impress my friends so I had at it. I slapped on Mel Purnell’s Whole Hog Hot ‘n’ Spicy Sausage patties instead of ground beef because I wasn’t paying attention, then I put the wrong pickles on the sandwich, I should have used Vlasic, plus I spread too much Hellman’s, I used a paintbrush instead of a spatula, then the lettuce was too brown and it was wilting like my husband’s wim-wim, and I stuck a slice of Swiss cheese because I swear to God I couldn’t find American even though the manager insisted they were behind the ice machine and when a few customers complained to the-”

“Ooooooooookkkkkkkk,” convinced that her crime has reached the statute of limitations, having 33 more applicants to interview, “Mrs. Thorp, you don’t have any problem showing your tits?”

“I used to tell my girls on the basketball team to give 110% effort, no matter what the scoreboard says. If that’s the job description, I will let it all hang out and dive for loose balls with everything I’ve got. I’ll have a lot of floor burns on me at the end of the night.”

DeWindt writes “very mature” on the check-off list. He adds “could be performing Christmas show with the 2 ex-Rockettes.”

“Are you willing to work overtime? Sometimes the New Thayer Moose Lodge holds their annual convention over at the Milford Ramada and a few of ’em head our way. They can get a little rowdy.”

“No rowdier than that crowd at Tilden. A lot of people were throwing coins, chewing gum, program ads, and candy bar wrappers at our girls but when we beat them in triple overtime, we got our revenge. Plus, Gil is hiring on as a bouncer so I don’t foresee any problems.”

“You do know we’re Union? Milford AFL-CIO Local 808? You have a problem with that?”

“I don’t see why I would. Unions have a Right to Peaceful Assembly according to The Constitution. I don’t mind gettin’ it on next to the Union steward on stage. We will show our boobs as a sign of solidarity.”

DeWindt writes down “Could be possible problem at the bargaining table but not a rabble-rouser”.

“Mrs. Thorp, we’ll start you out at $11.00/hour and give you a 50 cent raise after 30 days. The $500 signing bonus will be broken down into $250 apiece with the 1st installment paid out after 60 days and the remainder paid out after your probationary status ends after 90 days.”

“Are taxes taken out?”

“Yup, Uncle Sam gouges even us strip joints. BTW, can you fit into 9-foot boots, staple jewelry on your boobs and shake that thang? We do ‘Pinball Wizard’ every weekend and the last dancer injured her tits when she accidentally grazed them on a strobe light on the ceiling.”

“SURE”, trying to be an eager beaver. Do everything they tell you. That’s how you move up the corporate ladder. “I have some 9-foot heels I wore at my high school prom. I’m pretty sure they’re out in the garage.”

“Super!!!!!” as DeWindt is trying to hide his curiosity where she got 9-foot heels, let alone why she wore them.

“Well, that’s all the questions I have for now. I will learn everything there is to know about the company.”

“You got the right attitude. All right, be here tomorrow morning in the Training Room at 7:00AM sharp with your photo ID for your name badge and your Social Security Card. Also, bring a red pen so that you can learn how to fill out time sheets. We do EVERYTHING in red.”

 

BARRY CAN YOU HEAR ME

CAN I HELP TO CHEER YOU

BARRY CAN YOU HEAR ME

CAN YOU SEE ME NEAR YOU

OOOOOO, BARRY, BARRY, BARRY as Barry is escorted by Gil the Bouncer after the former wandered into the Club, thinking the ball diamond was on the same latitude. A jerk has a tendency to get his horse latitudes confused(with apologies to The Doors).

 

“OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH, BA-BY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MY HEART IS FULL OF LOVE AND IT’S ALL FOR YOU

NOW COME ON DOWN AND DO WHAT YA GOT TA DO

 

NO!!!! NO!!!!! DON’T LEAVE ME THIS WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DON’T LEAVE ME THIS WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

NO!!!!!!!!!! DON’T LEAVE ME THIS WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Doris, can I speak to you for a moment? I want to file a grievance. They’re having the dancers low on the Seniority List doing the Midnight Show.”

 

Daffy runs towards the spaceship set to leave Milford Int’l Airport.

“COACH KAZ!!!!!!!! COACH KAZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DON’T GET ON THAT SHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT ‘M’ ON THE COMPUTER SCREEN IN THE JOURNALISM ROOM!!!!!!!!! IT MEANS  ‘COOKBOOK’ IN KANAMITESE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And Ms. Rizk reveals herself as one of the Kanamits, deftly handling the stilts and the sleeping gas on Kaz, the same sleeping gas that was used on Batman and Robin, indicating that Part One was about to end (The Joker: “How’d I wind up in the Gotham City Correctional Institute? My gang put enough nerve gas on the Dynamic Duo to bring the Statue of Liberty to its knees.”). Coach Kaz is dragged in the ship and the door is sealed and the vehicle heads 29 light-years into outer space, with a potty break on Deneb and lunch at Stuckey’s on Lyra.

“GODDAMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MEAT LOAF AGAIN??????????? THAT’S THE 7TH STRAIGHT DAY I’VE HAD THE STUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND DOESN’T ANYBODY KNOW HOW TO DUMP CHEESE INTO KRAFT GARLIC MAC ‘N’ CHEESE?????????????????” as Coach Kaz throws the dinner to the floor in a cubicle roughly equal to the size of Papa Bader’s living quarters.

A 10-foot Kanamit walks in, straight from his game in the 12-foot-and-Under League. picking up dumped merchandise “Coach Kaz, Coach Kaz, PLEASE, there’s no reason for these needless tantrums. We can get the chef to switch to chicken cordon bleu and baked lasagna with tortellini.”

“And can they make Nestea instead of that swill they brew out of the canister in Milford’s cafeteria?

“I don’t see why not.”

“With Nutrasweet?”

“Of course.”

Consider for your speculation a one Coach Kaz, about to be somebody else’s Peanut Buster Parfait at the Kanamit DQ but enjoying The Good Life in his dying days. The parmesan cheese on his steam-fried London broiled steak and vegetables will expunge his fear of being Blizzard Flavor of the Month, Oreo Blizzard, may we add, at the same DQ drive-thru. Tonight’s bill of fare in…The Twilight Zone.

 

Comment away,gang. I’m going to catch the late show at the Go-Go Club. Mimi ought to be entertaining, certainly more than this plot.

 

I’M THE GYPSY

I’M THE ACID QUEEN

I’M GUARANTEED TO MAKE YOUR

BOY A JERK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“Mimi, you really went to town tonight. I liked how your wedding band bounced so lively between your breasts. And all those beads around your neck.”

“Thanks, Gil. So I heard you had to throw out Mr. Dr. Pearl?”

Rough Expectations

Well that was anticlimactic.  Given that (1) Barry has been treated like dirt by his teammates, his schoolmates, and his coaches ever since his father’s crash into Addison “Boo, But Not the Boo from To Kill A Mockingbird” Radley (b) no one, not even Counselor Dern, has suggested Barry get help or talk to someone except as a means to generate a lede, and (iii) Rubin has taken a ham-fisted approach to so many of his “ripped from the headlines” arcs only to end them in a flurry of tell-don’t-show moments, I fully expected today’s strip to feature Barry shooting up the halls of Milford High.  Rubin could wipe out underdeveloped and name-dropped characters in one fell swoop and turn the summer arc into a month-long episode of A Very Special Gil Thorp. I even implied as much in my Thursday post.

Art snark aside: Dafne and Bestie Who Looks Like An Extra From Room 222 (not to say that Dafne herself doesn’t look the same from time to time) have each lost a chunky bracelet since yesterday. Dafne and Barry are a bit closer in height than they were previously.

Back on topic: Maybe l’affaire Bader et Dafonte will still erupt in violence.  Maybe the adults in the teachers’ lounge will read the article and see it as the cry for help Barry has so desperately tried to make for the past two years.  Maybe the Nats will stop free falling, turn their season around, claw their way into a playoff spot and finally win a postseason series for once.  None of these things seems likely at the moment, and none of them are going to happen soon enough.

metapost:  timbuys’ Thorp of July post had some of us drifting off in Costello/Lowe reverie and realizing that we may have been in the same room at the same time.  Doubtless, then, the latest news from Mr. MacManus may have hit some of us like a ton of bricks. The news does seem positive, however, and I’m hopeful The Living Elvis will remain living for some time to come, which leads me to…

metapost 2: For the past couple of years I’ve been the Thursday and Saturday poster, a fact that always makes me think of a certain EC song.  As such, I usually end up being the guy who gets to weigh in on an arc’s final strip. Not this time, however.  I’m going to be traveling over the next two weeks, so one or more of my esteemed colleagues will get to see this train wreck into the station.  Thanks for hanging in there with me today.  I leave you with that certain song that almost always comes to mind when I enter the Thorpiverse.

First Responder Timeline (in part)

6:04 am… Three hours from prison, in his comfortable home in Milford, Barry Bader cues up “Pumped Up Kicks” on his smartphone as he loads his backpack with his weapons of choice.  Using a metallic-silver Sharpie, he writes “Dafne,” “Ms. Rizk,” “Coach Kaz,” “Coach Thorp,” “Mrs. Coach Thorp,” and “that greasy-haired kid obsessed with launch angles” on six of the loaded magazines he proceeds to place in the backpack.

Going Crazy Is A Kind Of Progress

Were any of you as surprised as I was to find out that The Secret Pelwecki is the The Secretly Not Such a Bad Student Pelwecki?  No?  I know there’s a trope name for giving a character some hidden talent or strength that had heretofore not been shown, but it’s already mid-morning here and I don’t have time to go down the rabbit hole that is TV Tropes to find it.

Speaking of not going down rabbit holes to find info, who is this unnamed coach at State U to whom Gil is putting in a call on Pelwecki’s behalf?   The glimpse of a #1 banner from last decade suggests that he, like Gil, may be cruising on past glories.  Based on yesterday’s convo with flirty Counselor Dern, Gilberto (looking a little off-model today, kinda like a younger Mojo Nixon sans sideburns) will probably try to talk The Coach Who Shall Not Be Named into letting the ‘Weck walk on.  Maybe Gil should ask him if he’s talked to John Pascoe lately.

It’s not like we’ll find out anytime soon ’cause we’re headed back into the Trumpet office to find out what progress Dafne’s made on the Ballad of the Blameless Baders, i.e., very little.  I’m beginning to think Dafne’s serving as Rubin’s author avatar here: both having painted themselves into a corner pursuing an angle on a story that’s unlikely to get published in a school newspaper IRL, they’re making themselves a little crazy trying to figure out a way to polish this turd.