This Week in Milford

December 26, 2019

His Head Is Cupcake City, Baby.

Filed under: actual action, basketball, Just plain sad, Pantheon of Mysterious Objects — tdrewhardin @ 8:43 am

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Old-timers like me will remember how popular Ann Landers and Abigail Van Buren(“Dear Abby”) were back in the ’60’s, ’70’s, and ’80’s. They were twin sisters who did separate advice columns for their respective newspapers which ran nationwide on the syndicate route, not sure which one ran in the morning and which one ran in the evening. At any rate, they had an understandably spirited rivalry which turned bitter from time to time which newspaper companies loved because it got the readership they wanted. Advice on topics that were many times controversial plus occasional finger-pointing at each other? Hell, yeah, the newspaper industry loved it because that package just SOLD.

That said, I remember as a kid in the ’70’s when my sister and I are reading Ann Landers (or Dear Abby, can’t remember which) and this one woman writes to say how she and her mom are engaged in furious combat because her mom is angry at her because this daughter-writer won’t wear a bra. Get off my case, Mom, I’m a liberated woman, was the gist of the letter. Her mom shoots back that she’ll get Cooper’s Droop and wind up in Hell.

Well, I don’t think she was at Judgment Day, bra-less, victimized by sagging gourds being told “Depart from me, for I never knew you”, but we learned from Ann Landers, after my sister and I are finished laughing our butts off,  that Cooper’s Droop is an actual term and that if you could lodge a pencil under your breast and it stayed there all day, you definitely were inflicted with the concept.

I can’t remember the advice Ann Landers gave but she and Dear Abby were popular because many times their advice was sound and Ann’s response to this letter was no exception.

With that in mind, if that net in P1 doesn’t have a serious case of Cooper’s Droop, I need to stop writing on this site and pick up where Dear Abby left off (“Dear T. Drew, my coach, Gil Thorp, coaches like his brain has Cooper’s Droop…”) . Marcell is dunking on what was once a waste can in Gil’s office. How Gil ever managed to rip the ring off the can and attach a mesh that was once Mimi’s dress is truly an engineering feat of the 21st century. I’ll have to keep those techniques in mind when I’m building a basketball goal in my backyard. Dunk away, Irby, you’re a part of history. Oh, and tie game, that’s a bonus.

 

Shout-out to Nikki Rand of Louisville who works as a driver at Pizza Hut on Lower Hunters Trace and Dixie Highway. Her go-getter attitude is contagious and her determination to succeed is truly a blessing and makes the company a better store. She also catches on quick so when orders and food items need to be invoiced, she does it efficiently and intelligently. I can see her as a leader in the future. She represents America because she is a smart cookie who wants to do the job right. Gang, next time you see her, salute her. She has my respect as to what America needs.

 

Then, Gang, we have another entry in Pantheon of Mysterious Objects. Thorpiverse would have you believe that that is a light on the ceiling, enlightening the scene, Cooper’s Droop-inflicted baskets with glass backboards included.

Thorpiverse has you fooled.

You’re not pulling one over my eyes, Thorpiverse. We know that it is either a gigantic cake pan that the Betty Crocker cement truck from time to time fills with tons of cake mix to make, for example, wedding cakes to accomodate the Wedding at Cana the constituents of which are watching the game when Mudlar-K-Cola isn’t being turned into wine or Lost in Space truly got lost and landed in Springfield by mistake. Oh, well, might as well watch a Springfield schmuck get Cooper’s Drooped on, courtesy of Marcell Irby. Gil’s waste basket won’t have a cigar stub in its container after Irby does some serious flushing on that Droopy of a goal.

“Hello, Toommm and Jeerrrryyy, my nammmeee is Drooopppyyy-”

DUUUUUUNNNNNNKKKKKKKKKKKK

And the guy pumping the fist is certainly displaying his seal of approval. I’d hate to know that he is not a member of the small contingent of Mudlark fans attending the game and is turncoating and Cooper’s Drooping the Springfield fan base. Be true to your school, the Beach Boys used to always say.

 

If yore bloodhound’s ears are infect-id with Cooper’s Droop and yuz can hide yore ammo in his ear flaps fer days until bow season fer coons cuz yore bloodhound’s ears contains more tics and tapeworms than the flea medicine frum Milford Veterinary Clinic kin handle, ya might be a redneck.

 

Gang, those of you who follow the NBA should be familiar with this rule called the “Mark Jackson Backdown Rule”. As a Pacer point guard during the ’90’s, Jackson would back his man down in the paint for up to 15 seconds per possession. Bearing in mind that the Pacers only had 9 seconds to shoot and hit iron (24-second shot clock, remember) and that it was generally boring basketball to watch a guy bulldoze his way to the bucket methodically, the NBA implemented the rule I mentioned above. The lowdown was a player could not play with his back to the basket while dribbling the ball when he was below the free throw line for more than 5 seconds. The rule essentially was a 5-second possession violation overall (i.e., mainly in high school and college, the bottom line was pass it or shoot it within 5 seconds or it was a turnover) and helped make the game a lot more exciting. It was annoying to watch a lot of players steamrolling the opposition with the ball and even MORE annoying when all this bull-in-a-china-shop ballhandling didn’t result in a score. Fans would stomach a bully with the roundball if it meant a dunk, otherwise…

But that’s what’s on the table today as Chris “Shaq in a china shop” Schuring is about to back down Herman “Apple Top” Munster IV in a key possession. And Shaq might have gotten away with several knockdowns in the 3-second area (though I highly respected his game) but no way did Shaq EVER grace the floor, either as a Magic or a Laker displaying those ugly socks Chris has on. Did he raid his mom’s lingerie drawer and drag out some L’Eggs from the ’70’s and dance with John Travolta under the disco ball in those things?

And surely Appleknocker Pate doesn’t have his hand on Chris’ derriere. We’re worrying profusely about the trapezoidal footwear without being concerned that if the refs don’t call hand-checking, the defense of the dribbler might get a little more personal. If ol’ Apple Knob’s Cooper’s Droop extends to his hands, Chris might be literally caught with his pants down while backing his man down in the paint. I’m gonna go groovin’ so ya better get movin’, indeed.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Cochran Rushed To Milford General After Head Caught In Trunk While Loading Case Briefs!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J.: I told him one of these days that Fuji Apple would get him killed. A lotta times, he used to bang his head on my condo entrance.”

 

Now allow me to pick apart P3 because I know it’s a little confusing. Chris is wanting you to THINK that the Springfield player has the ball and he’s wanting the Springfield players to think the Springfield player has the ball but actually he is threading the needle for a DALE DAVIS DUNK (Boyle, you and Slick worked that to a frenzy) while Spike Lee is sitting with Mimi in the stands, right behind Joe Fan’s sit-down crotch shot, yelling SOMEONE GET ON MILLER, and Chris wants you and the Springfield defense to THINK that the Springfield player is going to steal the ball and go down the other end for a DALE DAVIS dunk while the nearest Mudlark has Cooper’s Droop in his jock strap but actually that pass will glance off of Spike Lee’s goatee and ricochet to the Milford center for a MARCELL IRBY DUNK and resulting in Cooper Drooping even more and that Gil’s waste basket will become a Nerfhoop for his kids to play with in the hallway of their home, the damn thing so bent out of shape and resembling Apple Top’s sneakers but that’s the way Coach Thorp drew it up in the playbook.

Would you like for me to repeat that?

 

Mark Boyle and Bobby “Slick” Leonard broadcasting the Mudlarks

“…there appears to be some consternation as the Springfield player got his hair caught in the rim while executing an 180. I’ve never seen anything like that, Slick.”

“Boy o boy, Mark, Artis Gilmore performed some nasty windmills when I was coaching the Pacers against him in the ABA but he never got his afro stuck in Gil’s waste basket.”

“This is REALLY Cooper’s Droop as the Springfield guy is hanging out in no-man’s land. Looks like the Knicks after Reggie drained a 3 on ’em. Slick, I think we better go to a commercial break, with the score after 3, Springfield, 49, Milford, 47. We’ll be for the 4th quarter in a moment.”

 

Because I’m still a little fuzzy on the concept of Direct Cremation that a local funeral home is advertising

“Nobody likes to think about dying. Lord knows after several centuries, it could be any day before My Lord and Savior calls me Home.

Hello, this is Dr. Pearl with Milford Funeral Solutions and I have some wonderful news for you. You may choke the chicken eventually but at Milford Funeral Solutions you will not be left high and dry when they burn your dead corpse at the stake.

Milford Funeral Solutions works with the latest advanced technology when you or a loved one wish to be cremated. The Puro-Fire Technique assures those in doubt that the Dearly Departed will dearly depart. No mess, no loose bones in the casket after emerging from the crematorium. Fires that would burn the country of Uganda on a rainy day laced with a chemical, phenyltetraheliomethanol, guarantee that nobody’s rear end will be singed while entering the Elysian Fields. According to an article in the current Milford Mortuary Science Monthly, one funeral home was compelled to use a Zippo lighter to finish the task at hand.  I’m not sure how you feel about this but if my second cousin-twice-removed-fifth-generation had to be soaked in Match-Lite to start the grill, his service as an armed guard in the Peasants’ Revolt came to naught. Leave Indirect Cremation for the grilled barbecue chicken at your family reunion.

And cost is no problem. Easy payment plans are available to sustain the distress you go through, knowing that your relative will literally be going up in smoke. Bring in 2 pay stubs from your job plus your latest tax returns and financing a funeral pyre is a snap. Your relative is a good as reduced to ashes in Gil’s waste basket.

Come see for yourself and see why Milford Funeral Solutions says “You earned ’em, we burned ’em.”

 

Gang, it’s all yours. I’m going to diagram that play in P3 and see if we can reverse the ball.

 

“That took a nasty cut. You might want to shave it off and let it grow back. Reggie will be out of town for 3 months, you oughta be good.”

 

“Mimi, if you’re not careful, you’re going to get Cooper’s Droop.”

“Gil, I have plenty of Playtex’s in the bureau. Quit your whining.”

“I was talking about your basketball season.”

December 17, 2019

Watson, Come Here Into The Gym, We Need You To Play Basketball

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A few years ago, Lester Holt was interviewing a lawyer involved in a controversial case somewhere in rural North Carolina. I can’t remember the exact details but if you’ll allow me to improvise, it was concerning some business or radio station that was defending its Constitutional rights when comments laced with profanity was published or said on the air.

When Holt asked the lawyer about the crux of the case, the lawyer proceeded to quote what he and his plaintiffs were complaining about, bearing in mind this was NOT the defendant’s lawyer

“…and we are objecting to ‘Up shit creek’ or ‘I want to fuck you blind’ or ‘Gil couldn’t coach out of a douchebag’…”

And FINALLY Holt mercifully interrupted the lawyer, since this was on an NBC News Magazine and therefore national news, by saying

ALL RIGHT WE GET THE POINT WE DON’T NEED THIS BARRAGE OF PROFANITY ON NATIONAL TV THERE ARE KIDS WATCHING THIS SHOW

Holt afterwards apologized profusely for what arguably wasn’t necessary to quote on TV, especially because again this was the same lawyer fighting AGAINST what he himself was guilty of and was fighting, i.e., the usage of inappropriate language to drive home the issue.

And Thorpiverse

WE GET THE JOKE. IT MIGHT HAVE TAKEN ANOTHER 3-PANEL SET TO CATCH IT BUT WE HAVE A FIRM GRASP ON THE HUMOR WE DON’T NEED TO SKIP OVER GIRLS BASKETBALL LIKE WE DID LAST YEAR AND PICK UP WHERE LEFT OFF AND TRY TO GET CREATIVE WITH WATSON COMEDY AT THE BUCKET

They don’t have homework? Richie and Ralph and Potsie and The Fonz sit around at Al’s and conjure up new ways to express themselves about Richie Cunningham’s dad?

The Foghorn Leghorn approach

“Oh, say, can you C, Mr. C.?”

“That’s a funny, Dad.”

 

 

“Oh, Howard, you spilled your fruit punch all over your pants. Let me get you a Bounty.”

“Marion, I’m fine. I’ll just throw them in the wash later…”

“Aaaaayyyyyyy, Mr. C., I wouldn’t let that Hi-C settle on you, Mr.C. You’ll have a sea full of Vitamin C Hi-C all over Mr.C., see?”

“Eat the rest of your peas, Arthur. Here, Howard, here’s a Kleenex.”

 

Gang, if we have to have several more panels of Hee Haw, we’re in trouble

“Man, Roy, I can’t find those county corn yield reports anywhere. Can you help me look?”

“They ain’t come out of Lulu the Supercomputer’s mouth yet, Buck.”

Archie Campebell steps in

“That’s all right. Heck, Lulu’s so fat, they have to perform a Lamaze procedure when she’s spitting printouts.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

 

Alexa, is that you

I hope that football’s finally through

Basketball could be in view

I can pray

Hard to say

There’s only one thing that there’s left to play

Tip-off might be any day

 

We gotta get you a ballgame

It’s the only thing to show that this plot is alive

We gotta get you a ballgame

You better quit walkin’

They call that stuff Traveling

 

Because I’m amused because I saw a sign on a grocery store advising customers to

PLEASE DON’T PARK IN FRONT OF THE STORE

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Local Resident Fined Severely For Double-Parking At Milford IGA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Coach Shaw: ‘I was just getting eggs for my wife. And that Iams Beef a-Plenty 15-lb. bag for my huntin’ dog was hard on my back.'”

 

Let me get the obvious out of the way in P1. The girls are actually drawn pretty darn well and Phoebe is a cutie in that scene.

Then we get to her burger. Oh my.

Unless The Bucket is marketing Art Nouveau Leaning Towers of Pisa disguised as an overloaded Big Mac with one pickle and onion too many, I think I’ll order the Bucket Full o’ Pasta. C’mon, I’m still utilizing the Italian language.

I could go to a Milford Zoning Board meeting with that structure and make my case for a high-rise condo unit on a vacant lot in Downtown Milford. Drainage shouldn’t be a problem with that thing, just set that Tower of Babel at a perpendicular and the grease is as good as gone. I’ll get approved at next month’s meeting, unanimously.

Now I delve into the not-so-obvious. This one will have to be broken down if we’re to build the logic back up.

And what better way to dive into deductive reasoning than to transpose what’s being said in P1 to Pop’s Choklit Shoppe where Archie and Veronica are sitting in a booth.

“Oh, Archiekins, I am buying the Popsburger Combo with Extra Buffalo Fries and a side order of Onion Rings and Pop’s Veggie Lasagna because Daddy ran over Jughead in his Lamborghini.”

“Did they get Mr. Lodge for a DUI?”

“Now you know Daddy doesn’t drink and drive, Love.”

“That’s true. You still want to go to the drive-in movie. We can go right after Jughead’s funeral.”

“Oh, Archiekins, you say the sweetest things.”

 

If yore computer is nicknamed “Bubba” because it’s the only computer on the planet that gives ya printouts while its butt’s hangin’ out, sportin’ more pimples in its crack than a teenager, ya might be a redneck.

 

Talking ’bout Thorp, he’s so under the gun

This plot is stupid, not a lot of fun

Let’s hope that basketball won’t be shunned

And then we’ll take some time to get your stuff together

GET YOUR STUFF TOGETHER

Cuz, we gotta get you a ballgame…

 

But enjoy the generic School Cafeteria Burger, Alexa. All students get a free one everytime someone calls him or her HAL.

“Would you mind passing the mustard, Dave?”

 

 

“Will Archie Andrews and Moose Mason use hedge clippers to pare the rest of Mr. T.’s grandson’s head? Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion here on WDIG-TV.”

 

Because I’m in eternal wonder over these ED ads advising a person to throw away his old dick pills

 

At Mudlark Lake Resort one Autumn afternoon

 

THESE GODDAM PILLS AREN’T GETTING ME ANY HARDER THAN MARTY’S HEAD!!!!!!!!!!! THIS NAXIUM IS WORTHLESS. THE PHARMACIST SAID IT WOULD TAKE CARE OF MY HEARTBURN AND MY ED PROBLEMS. I’M FLUSHIN’ THESE SUCKERS-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

YEAH?

“Daddy, I gotta go #2 bad. My Underoos are stinky already.”

“Hold on, Jaime. Daddy has to unload some garbage and this can’t wait THAT’S THE LAST TIME I LISTEN TO THOSE ASSHOLES AT MILFORD APOTHECARY. THEY SAID MY WIENER WOULD TURN TO STONE AFTER I USED MIRALAX. I CAN SHIT LIKE A RHINO BUT MY WIENIE’S STILL A WIENIE-

Mimi approaches

“Gil, you OK? They can hear you from the other side of the lake. I could hear you cuss at the boat ramp over the Evinrude motor and that thing was louder than a Who concert.”

“I’m sorry, Honey, but I got to flush my troubles down the drain. The Pharmacy Grad Student at Milford Community College said the Children’s Mucinex Nightshift Relief would cause my thingamabob to be stiff enough to hang a flag on. Snot’s runnin’ out of it more than blood’s flowin’ into it. I’m flushin’ this across the Charon.”

“Gil, you’re in an outhouse.”

“Mimi, I couldn’t care less if I’m in the penthouse. When I use my Mudlark Visa Gold to buy Milford Apothecary Ibuprofen, I expect to dominate my women like Thor shootin’ one out of the sky.”

“Gil, I have a better idea. Why don’t you try one of the EREC-STYLE 9800 that I stuffed in your stuffing and consider it a pre-Christmas gift? It works better than Coricidin or Vick’s VapoRub.”

“HEY THAT’S IT. LET ME RUB SOME ON MY OSCAR MEYER WIENER AND YOU WILL TRULY BE IN LOVE WITH ME!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Maybe so, but in the meantime, you’ll have to clean the poopie off the jungle gym. Jaime just had an accident.”

 

“Why go through all that frustration when I could have used EREC-STYLE 9800, sold exclusively at Milford Men’s Clinic. No more throwing Aleve or Bayer in the dumpster for Milford Sanitary Solutions to pick up. I am not only having the time of my life, but the bathroom is free for my kids when they’ve eaten one chimichanga too many at Milford Taco Bell. Come get your fun at the Clinic and leave Garbage Day for your canteloupe rinds. You’ll be glad you did.”

 

Thanks to Cooper Stewart of Louisville, Kentucky for help with the above idea. Cooper works hard and his raw sense of humor keeps me going and gives me GREAT ideas. Cooper represents America with his dedication to his job and just by being himself. Don’t ever change, My Man. America needs you.

 

Go at it, Gang. I’m going to court to testify for Mr. Lodge. They say he was guilty of pulling a Gil with his car. I wonder how you get busted just by owning an idle car that plops its butt on the practice field but we do have Due Process, Thank God.

 

And when we’re done with youuuuu

We’ll do it with baseball, too.

 

Thanks for putting up with my love for Todd Rundgren. You’re #1 in my book, Gang.

December 5, 2019

Because Coach Thorp Won’t Take American Express.

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Must we CONTINUE this comedy of errors, now that December is well under way? Is the check going to bounce and we take the whole month before we have sufficient funds in the savings account at Milford State Bank? I know The Joker paid a visit but I thought MSB was a member of FSLIC. Does it have to get approved by the Milford School Board before the financial pipeline reopens?

You better hope that Chet Baker’s card isn’t declined. It might be around The Super Bowl when Chet is able to pay the minimum again. Apparently all those charges he ran up on the photocopier caused the card to go over the limit. He doesn’t pump THAT much gas into his vehicle at the Milford BP.

At the Milford Walgreen’s

“Okay, sympathy card, friendship card, bag of Cheetos, personalized gym bag, Nike sneakers off the clearance table, Dickies work socks-12 pair, your friend’s prescription of atorvastatin from the pharmacy, windbreaker jacket, and Ecco Domani Pinot Grigio in the 1.5 liter bottle. Do you have your ID with you?”

“He’s underaged. I’m his step-dad. Here’s my driver’s license.”

Showing a picture of Chet Baker at 18 when he was beardless. Clerk is stupified momentarily by the transformation from Skeezix to Alley Oop. Clerk recovers nicely.

“That’ll do ‘er. It’s going to be $134.76. Go ahead and slide your card. BTW, is this all for your friend?”

“Everything but the wine, sir.”

“I know what you mean. If I played football for a guy who spends more time at Mr. Wilson’s house than on the footba-Oh, it says your card was declined.”

“Damn, I made an online payment yesterday. After I sent back Chance’s Gibault School records.”

 

After watching College Football scenes involving unsportsmanlike conduct penalties, many were deserved but getting flagged for embracing your school mascot was a bit much, in my view

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O. J. Suspended From Milford Parks & Recreation Adult Flag Football League For One Week!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Just because I hugged my grandma after scoring the winning TD? Cheap call, Man.”

 

Just when we thought we were devoid of Pantheon of Mysterious Objects and the readers who are mystified by them, Thorpiverse would have to inject itself with another dosage of M.C. Escher.

We THINK Charlie’s combo dresser drawer-file cabinet-triplicate safe deposit box (where I would have hidden Chance’s records after jumping from the second story of Milford School Corporation Annex, contraband in tow) is facing towards Chet and Charlie. That would be only logical.

“I’ve told you 3 times the cabinet isn’t parallel with that wall!!!!!!!!!  The window is perpendicular to it!!!!!!!!!!! This isn’t Office Depot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You’re grounded for a week!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And stop calling me ‘Chet’!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And Charlie, if you’re not smart enough to figure out that your step-dad didn’t think you could handle the competition because your STEP-DAD EVIDENTLY COULDN’T HANDLE THE COMPETITION, you need to get off the computer for a season (oops, bad noun, that might take forever, knowwhutImean?) and smell the Folger’s. Geez, no wonder why your Chippendale belongs in the Crazy House of Mirrors at the Milford State Fair.

 

If yore pissed off cuz Milford Guns ‘n’ Ammo won’t accept Amer-ee-cun X-press and yore Milford Guns ‘n’ Ammo Visa Debit card maxxed out and they won’t take yore SNAP card as col-lat-ur-al ta obtain the necessary shells ta shoot a squirrel that’s been hibernatin’ in yore oak tree in the front yard, ya might be a redneck.

 

P2-Boy, are YOU leaving yourself wide open with that question, Chet.

If I were Charlie

“For starters, if you’re going to grow a beard, stop dipping it in the Cool Whip. We had to go the Milford 7-11 on Thanksgiving on an emergency for the 3 pumpkin pies. It’s embarrassing when I have to explain to all my friends why you have an Oreo face.

“He gets that way when there’s no Arm & Hammer in the Lazy Susan.”

After 2 hours of intense negotiations

“And when we play pitch and catch, no more going to Coach Thorp’s garage to borrow the Nerf football.”

“But Gil never use it because he’s too busy being absent because he’s on permanent vacation at the Milford Country Club Golf Course.”

I think there’s some things you can agree to disagree on, Charlie. Union can’t have everything when negotiating with management. Give and take.

“And Chet? Would you like a Certs Peppermint? I have plenty in my paralleogram file cabinet.”

 

Because I was intrigued by a house at the T of the T intersection that was protected by a guard rail, 3 red warning signs, a yellow warning sign with arrows pointing in both directions JUST NOT STRAIGHT TOWARDS THE HOUSE, and some barbed wire as a throw-in

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Barricades House After Near-Miss From A Milford National Guard Training Exercise!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Those saw horses out of Industrial Arts class ought to make those tanks think twice when they approach Jaime and Keri!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

And what would a teenager do with a credit card for a few days?

After Milford FINALLY ends football

CHANCE, WE’RE GOING TO DISNEYWORLD

 

Ooooooookkkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back to restore sanity and hopefully expedite the end of the football process. My money’s on Gene to do so, Gang. Take ‘er away, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought she could use Chet’s Visa card to buy _________________________”

 

So THAT’S what happened to Gil’s Nerf Joe Montana Pigskin Special. An anonymous Mudlark and Stick-Figure Face the Zebra are playing pitch and catch of their own. You get that way when you’re mopping up the competition judging by the caption in P3.

I almost thought it was Valley Tech judging by the language that Jabba the Hutt speaks on the player’s shirt but don’t believe Jabba uses the letter “M”. Jabba the Hutt EATS Mudlarks, doesn’t cheer for them.

What is scary is that after we’ve played Musical Chairs reading Chet’s death knell, P3 may be the extent of the football action in this last game. Anytime I see a referee with a hokey-pokey face (“You put your whole chin in, you pull your whole chin out…”) , I’m not bettin’  the ranch, Gang. Especially when Gil dug a trench all the way around his house. When a tricycle couldn’t cross GDMZ (Gil’s Demilitarized Zone) , it’s time to hang up the cleats on this one after you’ve dug all the mud outta the spikes. Subpar, indeed.

“That ends the 3rd quarter. Nobody knows the score but the script says Milford’s ahead. And we’ll continue this travesty after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a Division of Learfield Sports.”

“Boy, all this whirlwind of non-activity is working me up an appetite. And making me thirsty.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse and don’t you know I have a solution for you.

Right now, the Warehouse is stocking Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage in the refrigerated section. You can’t miss ’em, they’re next to the daiquiri section in Aisle 2. And instead of egg nog, why not sample some Gil Thorp Mild and Meek with your favorite 24-pack like Michelob Ultra, a bargain at 25.99 and for only 2 bucks more, you got that and my sausage guaranteed. Don’t know boutchoo but Michelob Ultra and fruit cake don’t cut it at my Christmas party.

And Woodbridge Chardonnay and Tennessee Pride Hot ‘n’ Spicy when you and your wife are doing candlelight when the kids are at a slumber party. What a way to ruin a romantic evening. I’m not a fan of sausage flambe. Save your candles for some real eatin’.

That’s why my sausage contains no carbotetrafluorophenols. I light a fire under my players’ butts without having to consult the manual at Dow Chemical. And I don’t light my Double Whopper Sausage and Cheese with them. For $8.77, you got the Chardonnay and Cheese Sausage in Paradise.

And I add a chaser of Maker’s Mark Whiskey to my Gil Thorp Fried Italian Sausage and Lunch-on-the-Go is never the same. And to sweeten the pot, for every flask of Maker’s Mark you purchase at $23.99, the Warehouse will throw in a package of Gil Thorp Pure Fried Italian Sausage in the bag. Ya gotta request plastic to validate the deal.

And Mimi knows I dig Captain Morgan’s Rum whenever she’s grillin’ my Sausage Mignon medium-rare. On a Dixie paper plate, drinkin’ and feastin’ couldn’t be finer, especially when I remember that the bottle runs at $19.99. Kowabunga.

Come in and have it your way and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.

Comment away. I’m going to use Chet’s Visa card and hit McD’s. Anybody want anything?

ONE-HORNED

ONE-EYED

FLYIN’

PURPLE PEOPLE EATER

Oh, that’s the referee. Never mind.

December 3, 2019

Will Football Last Another 5 To 10 Months?

Filed under: Boredom in Milford, Just plain sad, song parody — tdrewhardin @ 11:09 am

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Ah, Bob Dylan

 

What time is it

Said The Hand

To Charlie when they met

 

5 to 10

Said Charlie

 

The Hand said

That’s what your step-dad’s gonna get

 

Damn, I hate to leave CLASSIC stuff but I’m still trying to figure out what Charlie is wearing under his other shirt.

Now because it appears to be a star, I can’t say that Chance has written

GIL THORP COULDN’T BARF OR COACH HIS WAY OUT OF HIS PERSONAL TOILET IN HIS OFFICE

Don’t you get In-School if that were spotted by some teacher? I think so. It’s been a while since I’ve been in the schools but that or

MS. RIZK NEEDS TO HOT-WIRE HER HEAD OUT OF HER TYPEWRITER

really wouldn’t do justice either.

Oh, okay, one more for you fuddy-duddies who don’t know when to give up

MARTY WASN’T JUDAS ISCARIOT THIS TIME?

Any or all of these inscriptions could grace Charlie’s shirt as long as he doesn’t walk past the principal’s office. And I’m bettin’

DR. PEARL BEGAN WEARING DENTURES DURING THE GILDED AGE

would probably get him in trouble too. Don’t go the way of your step-dad. Charlie. You wouldn’t want to be disgraced being sentenced to wearing a beard that was skinned from some skunk roadkill. Silence is seldom misquoted.

 

BIG shout-out to Iroquois Gardens Apartments of Louisville, Kentucky and their property manager, Melissa Frye. I was pleasantly surprised at the amenities and comfort of my new apartment. Microwave, dishwasher, refrigerator, an excellent atmosphere and space, important for all the books I have and use to get ideas for this site. And Melissa makes a good point, the apartments are run by a corporation but you wouldn’t know it coming into her office. She and everybody else know my name. Looks like personalized service to me. Factor in an affordable price and you got yourself a winner. Stop in and say Hello to Melissa and her friendly staff if you’re looking for a place to live and check it out. I think you’ll agree, this doesn’t compare with many of the apartments in the area. It really doesn’t.

Support Small Business, Gang. You need to go where everybody knows your name.

Now I’m going to take a stab at what is I THINK on his shirt, self-assured Charlie doesn’t want to go the way of his step-dad. I bet it’s Captain America and any time now, if Chet or anybody else continue to mess with Tommy Rich, er, Chance, Charlie will rip off that flannel shirt, fling his shield at these bete-noires and saw ’em in two and Democracy will be restored.

I COULD say that’s a pentagram but there’s no evidence of Charlie belonging to the Milford High School Satan Worshipers Club but I never saw an upside-down cross in the hallway in P1 or in Charlie’s room. I’m sticking with my original Captain America theory.

 

As Charlie approaches Chance, revealing what’s under the flannel shirt

“Smmmmiiiilllleeeee, you’re on Candid Camera”

As Allen Funt comes out of the locker

“Naw, it was one big-ass joke, Chance. Chet Ballard really likes you and never did any of that stuff. In fact, he’s underwriting your scholarship for one of the Power 5 football schools, isn’t that right, Charlie?”

“Yeah, in fact, Nick Saban is coming this afternoon, after he gets done signing autographs at The Bucket.”

 

Come on, you naysayers, Charlie doesn’t pray 5 times towards the Milford Church of Satan. Isn’t this more plausible?

 

We prefer to spend our time

On athletic news

Not wasting our time with some lout

 

And pretend we’ve flipped the lever

And fried his ass to Hell

Leaving no sign of his whereabouts

 

If we could change his mind

If we could alter brain and moral signs

If we could return the way it used to be

We would omit folks with itchy properties

Dig a grave and throw away the key

Focus all our eyes on sporting activities

Scrap his beard and insecurities, you see

 

If only we could change his mind

If only he would change

If we had a gun

We’d blast him again and again

 

And pretend that we’re not happy

Since he went away

Oh, if only we could change his mind

 

Then there’s P2 and this is the raison d’etre of Gil Thorp. Put another way, if The Joker were to rob Milford Federal Credit Union, Milford High School Federal Credit Union, Fort Milford Federal Credit Union, Milford Savings and Loan, Milford Cash Advance (“Just pay back the full amount you robbed by this Friday if you don’t want tbe interest to accrue.”) , Milford National Bank, Milford State Bank, and some kid’s lemonade stand (We’re talking about The Joker, you understand) , Robin is not going to meet Batman on the streets of Milford while Batman is zipping up his cape after a quickie with Catwoman at the Milford Best Western and say “Gosh, Batman, I knew you didn’t have anything to do with The Joker’s crime spree. I knew it all along.”

“Don’t sweat it, old chum. BTW, would you return the room key to the manager on duty? Just tell them somebody dropped it by the ice machine and you were doing your duty as a citizen of the law.”

 

Really, P2 is just a waste of a panel. Why would we suspect that Charlie had ANYTHING to do with all the computer hacking and illegal downloading and performing illegal investigations, executing unoffical business? Like this was a Bonnie and Clyde operation.

That’s right, Charlie steps inside building past security while Chet distracts them by taking a leak in the shrubbery. Chet will get a slap on the wrist and future directions to the restroom and walk away with information Dressed to Kill. Right.

Chance had a hard time calling Chet “Dad”.

 

If ya gotta use the garbage can lid while yuz a Superhero ta fight th’ scum and grime in tha city of Milford except on Tuesday when Milford Sanitary Solutions makes its rounds, ya might be a redneck.

 

Big shout-out to Ryan Roth and Roth’ Pizza of Elberfeld, Indiana. I drove by there the other day and it was a classy operation. I am not surprised as Ryan’s a top-notch individual who was great to work with at TJ Maxx. He sells great pizza and stroms at great prices in a small-town atmosphere. Customer is King with this gentleman. In fact, the only thing bad about him is he hates my favorite teams. Oh well, one can’t have everything. Take exit 29 south off of I-64 in Indiana and take the first exit off of I-164 and follow the signs to Elberfeld. Once you hit Elberfeld, he’s smack dab in the middle of town. Can’t miss him.

Support Small Business, Gang. You need to go where everybody knows your name. Ryan knows mine and has for years.

 

Y’know, I’d hate for those fists in P3 to be bumper cars. I wouldn’t want to call 1-FON-THE-JAWS after my pelvic area got Captain America’d. Nuff said.

 

“And that’s the end of the 3rd quarter here at Mudlark Stadium with the score in this Valley Conference Winter Extension contest, Milford, 27, Oakwood, 10. This is Marty Moon on WDIG-TV, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

On Coach Thorp’s 58,000 acre hog farm that abuts the city limits of Milford, at his homestead

“So you’re saying that if I stop accepting hog meat that was stowed away on The Mayflower that I’ll make more money?”

Robby Howry, fresh from his Accounting 212 class at Milford Community College

“Yes, you will. In fact, we’re studying Tax-credit Procedures that I aced on the exam and there’s a lien surcharge on every crate of pork smuggled out of the ship. But the Milford Town Hall will grant a tax reimbursement incentiv3 on every unused package that Milford High School cafeteria is prepared to dump in the Milford Sanitary Solutions truck.”

“Bull shit.”

“Bull shit?”

“Young man and WDIG-TV, I apologize for the profanity on the air, but you don’t know anything about sausage…”

“…just like you don’t know anything about bookkeeping or coaching?”

“Precisely. We import only the finest pork, some from far-away places, to ensure quality in every bite. Sausage, like Martini & Rossi, only gets better with time. And we use only the finest of spices and condiments to enrich flavor at its peak performance. Import duties are financed by the sausage distillation wing of the processing plant.”

“Wow!!!!!! Nice to know rosemary and sage sold under the table from Laos is honestly financed. And the savings is passed on to the consumer.”

“Gil, did you also tell him that Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage uses no fillers or cheap ungredients in its meat?”

“That’s right, Mimi. Robby, you need to stick to billboards when you’re not reviewing debentures for the quiz. We don’t need Crisco or Elsie the Borden Cow to fatten up our sausage. We use only the finest cuts of Polish Kielbasa so that breakfast and church picnics can experience manna from Heaven.”

“Let me assure you, Robby, I don’t need Crisco or Clabber Girl when I’m frying sausage burgers for Gil.”

“Mmmmmmm, mmmm, why go through the drive-thru at McDonald’s for a McChicken that’s on life-support in the microwave when I can indulge in one of Mimi’s Double Smoked Sausage & Cheese Patty Melts? Tennessee Pride couldn’t process a Junior Whopper with their sausage.”

“Gee, Coach, you’re right. It’s like telling Burger King to make Whoppers out of Veggie Burgers. I wouldn’t change a thing.

“Here, Robby, so there’s no hard feelings after you trashed my husband, here’s a Triple Decker with Onions. And I’ll pour you a Frosty Root Beer, no charge.”

“Oh boy!!!!!!!!!!! I’m in Heaven!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“No, Robby, you’re in Milford, home of the finest sausage in the land. Come get a package of Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage today at your local grocery outlet. Remember, sausage and coaching go together like pork fritters and fries.”

Comment away. I’m headin’ to Milford IGA because I understand that Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage is tastier than George Jones’ Sausage. Except George was adept in his profession but I’ll try anything once.

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Vandals Caught While Trying To Excavate Plymouth Rock!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Spokesperson from Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage denies any connection with the crime. ‘Our meats come from above the ground.”

Edited to add: Long time readers may have noticed a delay in posting of the images for the strip last week. This was due to an extended sojourn in the Tortolita mountains of the Sonoran Desert, a few photos from which appear below with T. Drew’s permission and encouragement. – TimP

IMG_20191125_121657

IMG_20191127_105323

PANO_20191127_111455.vr

November 28, 2019

Get Out Of This Comic Strip, You Misguided Puppet.

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For Thanksgiving,  I wish nothing but the finest for all of you. May God have you prosper at work, at home, and with your family.

I am VERY thankful for the TWIMers who keep this thing going. You amaze me, people. What started out with one person has branched out into a pitch-in campaign and that’s what makes the humor that much more effective. In the nearly two years on the staff, I humbly sit back and watch you people write your stuff and I am never disappointed.

I am nothing without Jesus Christ. He makes it possible to write this nonsense and I praise Him several times over. He has blessed me on the site and off the site, i.e., my family, home, work, everyday living, and that makes Thanksgiving truly a holiday for me.

You may worship a different God. If so, give Him your best if you don’t worship mine, is all I ask. Either way, a HUGE thank you for all that you do, Gang. Again, Thanksgiving is not the same without you. You all mean the world to me.

 

Is Chet Ballard in trouble. How else could you explain the extra Magic Marker stains on his forehead, hair, apparel, beard, well, I wouldn’t go that far on the last one. Maybe lice but not Magic Markers. The lack of trimming of his beard or ethics is enough of a smudge mark(s).

Black Bart, Snidely Whiplash, The Joker, Jerry Pulver have all challenged Gilberto the last 60 years. As you can see, in spite of lack of coaching or styling mousse (dips his hair in the same vat where Crayolas are allowed to cool and settle) , Gilberto is always Last Man Standing. What makes Chet think he’d be an exception? When you have a weasel for a School Superintendent suddenly coming across like Wyatt Earp, Chet should have seen the signs. Wrist snapped back into place after Howard Elston nee Elston Howard finally got his Tinkertoy parts FedExed, conversations with Filet Mignon Head the Receptionist, Mrs. Roh appearing on Divorce Court. You didn’t notice, Chet? You might have a fine six-shooter but if Gil’s been lugging around a cannon for six decades…

“I’m Doug Llewellyn, reminding you that if you’re husband hasn’t pared his beard since FDR implemented the TVA program and is a stiff-necked lout with more teeth than moral behavior, and try as you might to tell him not to pick the lock on the door leading into the students’ records, let alone hot-wire the Macys’ station wagon when the Die Hard battery failed in his own vehicle, don’t call Don Corleone and have him dumped in Mudlark Lake. Take him to court.”

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Judge Wapner Orders Chet Ballard To Hand Over Stolen Records Of O.J.’s College Transcript!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“A lot of good that did. We still wound up in second place in the Milford Parks & Recreation Adult Flag Football League.”

 

And to think, Marjie and Janis Ian thought that Mr. Flex-Name, er, School Superintendent couldn’t bring Chet to his knees. Amazing what happens when you actually exercise your authority, especially when the crime was painfully obvious. Guess he got his head out of his butt and saw daylight and the truth, whichever came first. This Bud’s for you, Flex.

 

Now I’m helpless, it’s a killing spree

This travesty and farce will drive me to the sea

It took some time to plan where I’m coerced to flee

The Mudlark team is all coming after me

I had no thought about my own reward

I cheated without Chance or Charlie’s firm accord

Just don’t say I’m

DAMNED FOR ALL TIME

 

Andrew Lloyd Webber couldn’t have said it any better.

 

Now, come on, Chet. Extenuating circumstances? We’ve been reading the Milford National Toilet for 3-4 months and have observed Gil not doing his job because he was riding in the back seat with Friday and Gannon and have watched Marjie conduct what amounted to an audit when she wasn’t puking with Sam Finn over Manwiches  and Canada Dry during the same length of time and you can’t lie any better than THAT????? You better upgrade your prevarications to “I was bitten by a zombie and therefore was not in  my right mind when I walked in with the combination to the records vault at Milford High School Complex that I stole from Dr. Pearl’s purse under her Pond’s Cold Cream and walked away with Chance’s time at Devil’s Island when Chance was rooming in the same stockade with Papillon” if you want to earn your 30 pieces of silver is all I can say.

 

If ya turn in a poacher and the Con-ser-va-shun Officer tries ta reward ya with 30 pieces of silver but ya turn it down and insist on a 6-month supply of ammo instead cuz ya cain’t shoot an 8-pointer with 30 pieces of silver, especially during bow season, ya might be a redneck.

 

P2-now that we’re in the High Horse section of today’s strip NO WAY do any censures or castigations of a general nature occur WITH A HALO SURROUNDING HIM OR HER. I know we’re going for the inspiration angle here but Gil cussing out Kaz because the laundry lady forgot to wash all the jock straps before kickoff with Gil environed with St. Elmo’s Fire just doesn’t cut it.

But let’s examine a few more examples for all you stubborn mules who don’t know when to say “uncle”.

“Gil, get out of the trash can!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Milford Sanitary Disposal, Inc. picked up the trash this morning. The Totino’s  Supreme is long gone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Peaches, I’m pumping as fast as I can!!!!!!!!!!!! Why don’t you go brush your teeth? I should be good to go by the time you come to bed.”

“Darling, quit sneaking out with my dentures!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nobody respects a principal  of the school if she metes out In-School Suspension displaying her gums!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There’s an ample supply under the sink!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh wow, Beaver, when Dad comes home and finds out that Ms. Rizk caught you jacking off her typewriter, you’re gonna get clobbered!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Somebody’s been dumping rabbit meat in the Spaghetti O’s again and I will fire the next cafeteria lady caught dragging in Bugs Bunny!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Catwoman, I perform oral sex when I’m off the clock!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now it’s time to send you up the river to the Milford Women’s Correctional Facility!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Always after  me Lucky Charms!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The last one was on the house.

 

I did it cuz I had to, I’m the one who saw.

That Chance never polished all his silly flaws

Moreover there’s an issue that I hate to broach

He lacerated the jaws of his clueless coach

I had not thought about my own reward

Though I wouldn’t mind driving home with Gil’s Accord

Just don’t say I’m

DAMNED FOR ALL TIME

 

And I know that Thorpiverse is trying to create the right mood given the situation at hand but does anyone think Il Barbiere di Siviglia as a Moor is a bit much, especially when it’s mixed in with the clown paint before he lets ‘er rip with Vesti La Giubba? I know Thorpiverse and Pagliacci were collaborating in order to ensure proper effect but putting on clown paint when you’re already a clown, let alone that life goes on even if Mrs. Roh runs off with Steve Luhm is throwing one too many irons in the bonfire at the Milford Pep Rally. And Il Barbiere’s nightmare has just begun, not sidetracked looking like The Joker after Catwoman split on you without signing the divorce papers. Looking like Bozo whwn you’re already Bozo anyway isn’t going to stop Pontius Pilate and his Ring of Fire he borrowed from Johhnny Cash from pointing a finger at you. It’s never too late for Il Barbiere to get his A license and drive semi’s.

 

 

On a recent episode of Texas Ranger Studman Machomaniac Kent Walker Shaw

Racing his butt off in his Range Rover, Texas Ranger Studman Machomaniac Kent Walker Shaw, after leaving the iceberg in the background that had more parallel lines, eyes his target.

“All right, Goofy, take off your  mask and let me see your driver’s license and registration.”

“But I’m not wearing a mask. I just tanned a little too long on the tanning bed at Milford 24-hour Laundromat.

“That;s what they all say. But I noticed you didn’t bring any Mudlark Cling-Free sheets. Dead giveaway. They always wind up with static on their Breeze towels when the sun lamp goes haywire and they don’t have an updated registration.”

“They’re holding up my face.”

 

And I remember from my school days when I attended a Model UN Conference. I represented Austria so I was mainly a minor player since Austria never mixed it up with, say, the U.S. and the USSR in negotiations. Anyway, we had an issue on the table that involved Israel and the PLO. Naturally, true to the real world model of the UN, the one representing Israel and the one representing the PLO are slugging it out, the rest of us trying to mediate the conflict, again as in the actual UN proceedings.

And somewhere in the middle of the presentations, Israel is flailing of course at the PLO but then, while discussing a potential agreement, the Israel representative yielded the rest of his time to the PLO, something Israel would NEVER do in the UN proceedings.

That’s why I had to adjust my set on WDIG-TV. I could have sworn I saw Marty Moon tell the truth about Gil. Sometimes the antenna outside gets chewed on by the raccoon in the neighborhood. Santa has been known to have had one Mudlar-K-Cola Non-Alcoholic too many and trip over the antenna while trying to get to the chimney with his bag of toys. And sometimes Donner and Blitzen dump their poop around the area.

If Santa curbed his reindeer, Chet’s in a lot of trouble. Chet’s running out of friends and if Marty yields the rest of his time to Gil, it’s time to head to Antarctica. Hope he doesn’t mind living with penguins.

 

Thank you for trashing his personal file

We’re grateful for info that’s meant to hurt

You’ll be richly rewarded with coins by the mile

It’s a pleasure to deal with a man of your worth

 

I DON’T WANT YOUR BLOOD MONEY

Oh, why don’t you take it, our wages are good

I DON’T NEED YOUR BLOOD MONEY

You’ve hurt Chance’s chances, we think that you should

 

Think of the many ways you can spend it

The Bucket, a steak house, The Milford Lounge

Just look at it as payment for setting things straight

30 pieces of silver is the least we can

Least we can

Least we can

Scrounge

 

“Don’t go away. We will return for Chance’s crucifixion on Jesus Christ Superstar after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”

 

At the Milford Soup Kitchen on Thanksgiving

“Good Lord, I just swallowed an army boot!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage claimed they used no fillers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Anybody know the number of The Shark?”

“It’s bad enough that one person got nailed to a tree and another soon to follow but while you’re keeping track of the 39 floggings out there, you can wash YOUR hands of your own affairs by calling  1-FON-THE-JAWS. Thanksgiving handouts shouldn’t have to be hazardous dump roped off by the EPA.”

“I got a check for $4,754,968,256 from Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage after The Shark took out his 20%. I was able to buy the ladles at the Soup Kitchen and shave my scraggly beard. I got tired of looking like Chet Ballard with hand-me-downs he got from Milford Thrift Store. People were always asking me about insurance while I was in line getting mulligan stew dumped on my tray. Now I can scrape my succotash with day-old Wonder Bread in peace. Thanks, Shark.”

“Insurance companies are hard at work covering their own end. Don’t let Gil drop a fly in your soup. Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful, not sorting out elephant turds in sausage that Mr. Thorp calls fillers. If your own Thanksgiving celebration is wet from all the pee that one of your hobo friends at The Kitchen let loose on the Cool Whip, that shouldn’t stop you from enjoying the pumpkin pie. Get the money you deserve to replace the Cool Whip and enjoy your own rhubarb pie.”

“I got 39,576 tubs of Cool Whip stuffed in my locker at the Milford Shelter. I can eat real pumpkin pie and turkey plus Jimmy Dean Pure Pork Sausage as an appetizer. The rest of the money I’ll invest in long-term bonds. Thanks, Shark.”

“You heard the man. come reap the rewards of your own handout. One call, that’s all.”

 

Thanks for your patience, Gang. Thanksgiving was truly good to me today. Working with my great nephew in basketball, playing games with the rest of the kids, being with my mom and dad and several nieces and nephews, while enjoying my sister’s cooking and watching Thanksgiving football just gave me several more reasons to be thankful. I hope you can say the same.

 

Always knew that I’d be a frickin’ Mudlark

Always knew I’d be one if I tried

Then when I leave school

I can lounge like Gil Thorp

So they’ll all emulate us when we die

November 21, 2019

If These Doors Could Speak.

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If these doors

If these doors could speak

Superintendent lacking a name

Must have been a hell of a resume

Wondering if he’ll show some balls

For cads around us

If these doors could speak

 

They would tell us that they’re sorry

This plot is trash and dumb and weak

They would tell us that it’s really

On a losing streak

That’s if these doors could speak

 

Amy Grant is here with us to skewer this roast that’s long been in the oven too damn long and likely to taste like the worn-out shoe Hank Williams used to croon about. Y’know

Why do they treat us like refried stew

Why does this plot smell like a worn-out shoe

 

Another time with one of the greats. Right now, Amy is the bill of fare and God Almighty it’s time to pay up. Just days ago nobody wanted to go to the Superintendent because of an implied lack of iron rods in his back even with solid evidence.

Suddenly “The Buck Stops at this Cheap Rural King Mahogany Door” is ready to make a stand after Gil and Marjie and Carole King’s half sister comb the city of Milford for fodder they can use against Bluto. I’m sorry, Popeye wouldn’t be stockpiling the spinach wagon until the end of the episode to send Bluto into next week. Olive Oyl would have long since divorced him and ran off with Dick Tracy. Did you ever see Gravel Gertie flush evidence on Flattop down the toilet because Dick Tracy was a wussy? Please.

“You can come out from under Gil’s desk, Tracy. The Mole is gone from the Mudlark Girls Gym and only took the slaughter balls to sell on the black market.”

So maybe MAYBE John Doe Superintendent will have enough spinach in his file cabinet to confront the problem. Otherwise, those Popeye arms are really pillows caused by excessive Bucket Burger intake. When was the last time Popeye threw Bluto around the 3 panels on the strip getting drunk off some Bucket Banana Split(s)?

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Superintendent’s Name To Be Revealed Today After 60 Years Of Neglect!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I just thought it was time to come out of the closet. Gil’s had his name in neon lights on his vanity license plate. Two can play that game.”

Big shout-out to Karen of New Albany, Indiana. She works at the Kroger on Charlestown Road. Every time I see her, she is always bagging the groceries with a smile. You factor in her desire to help customers who may have a little trouble getting the groceries out to the car and you have a winning formula. She always comes to work on time and I am glad to take her there as part of my job. We need more like her. She represents America.

 

If these doors

If these doors could speak

I wonder what bull they’re exchanging now

Stuck on his Sudoku, 2 numbers down

Crucifying a man so dim

His diet’s Slim Jims

If these doors could speak

 

They would say that this plot owes us

More than cash, stocks, or CD’s

They would explain this plot only

Better go take a pee

That’s if these doors could speak

 

P1-Late one night at 1:30AM at the Thorp residence

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRINNNGGGGGGG

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRINNNGGGGGGG

“I’ll get it, Mimi”

BRRRRRRRRRRRRRR-

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is your favorite anonymous School Board member calling to remind you of your appointment with me at The Bucket on-”

Lady with a drunken voice

THURSDAY, NOVEMBER TWENTY-FIRST

“at”

3:00PM

“If you cannot make this appointment, please give a 24 hour notice to avoid the $50 No-show fee. I have plenty of information that I hacked from the computer that will run Chance out of Dodge City and force him to continue his high school football career in Samoa while my own son will pull a Keith Smart and score the winning TD with only seconds to go. You don’t know me so don’t try to trace me. Several did down at the School Corporation building but they wound up in the corn field like that idiot in that Twilight Zone episode, y’know, where everybody is genuflecting to some kid because he’ll make someone a corn stalk otherwise. Don’t trash Charlie and wind up being a Corn Flake or Fruit Loop yourself.

I look forward to seeing you Thursday. I’ll be the one with the Harley Race gut and shag carpeting some call a beard.

Goodbye”

CLICK

Come to Jeff Smith Marathon in Edwardsville, Indiana. WOW THEY WERE BUSY YESTERDAY. Sounds like a good business to me. There were people pulling in and out to get gas and to get their cars fixed. Of course, there were several cars in the parking lot either fixed or waiting to be fixed. Busy.

The coup de grace was the attendant patiently helping a lady get her tire inflated. That is the kind of service you get at this place, the standard and NOT the exception. You’re doing great, Guys and Gals.

Come see Crystal who was lining things up like a pro and Bre who was doing that earlier in the shift. They are off Exit 118 on I-64 in Indiana. Soon as you get off, go Indiana 62 west and take the FIRST road on the left. Can’t miss these ladies.

Support Small Business, Gang. Keep America striong. You need a place where they know your name anyway. Crystal and Bre and the mechanics at Jeff Smith Marathon know mine.

 

Oh, so now the generic superintendent is going to take a stand and run Liberty Valance out of town.

“Damn straight I’m not going to let John Wayne steal all the thunder and ram Chet’s head into Liberty Valance’s trailer home. I got backbone, y’know.

Can you help me finish this crossword puzzle? 19 down ‘Wrote Gargantua and Pantagruel’.”

“How many letters?”

“Eight. It starts with an ‘R’.”

“Rotterdam?”

“That’s nine. Hey, Luhm, where’s that almanac?”

 

The Clanton Gang sent to an early grave because the one-size-fits-all knew the capital of North Dakota. Priceless.

“I knew it wasn’t Fargo. That’s what a lot of people answer.”

 

If ya call in a poacher ta th’ Milford Fish and Wildlife Ranger Office but ya wanna leave the tip anonymous cuz that’s yore teammate at Milford Lanes even tho he’s well past the bag limit of skunk, ya might be a redneck.

 

Do all the powers-that-be have trees that grew out of the planet Krypton and get transplanted for scenery behind the desk of said official?

The next time I see Honest Abe or Old Hickory posing in front of a set of Encyclopedia Brittanicas and a mutant poplar that’s accommodated one spider monkey too many will most DEFINITELY be the first time.

Lee and Grant signing the Appomattox papers with that thing in the living room? Who’s?going to take it home with their pistols?

 

“Roquefort?”

“That’s a salad dressing, dumbass.”

“Mr. Generic Superintendent, watch your language.”

 

Don’t get me started on P3. Evidently Charlie Chan IV couldn’t make it in the movies (“You don’t have the look”) so now he settles for a receptionist/hacker position at unknown company, presumably still in the same School Corporation building as Marjie and Mr. What’s-His-Name. And I don’t mind different, hey, the melting pot made America but no way will I ever freeze-dry my hair and use a cupcake mold to finish the shape. What is it about liquids we learned in 7th grade Science, they take the shape of their containers? We have an exception here. Papa John’s and Domino’s could design Pan Pizza concepts based on the top of his head.

Then there’s the conversation with Lurch’s brother. Is he the concierge of the School Corporation? Does he open the door for Mr. Generic Superintendent in the morning? Get his #2’s ready when the latter is about to do the USA Today crossword that Lurch Revisited obtained in the lobby? Light the man’s cigars?

“Yoouuuuuuuuuuuu rang?”

“Yeah, Lurch, we need as much dirt as you can scrounge together on Chet Ballard. The nastier, the better. And don’t leave out when he went streaking in that Chick Fil-A body of his when he was in Milford’s Streak to Cure Breast Cancer. Milford Enquirer will have a field day with that.”

“As you wish.”

 

Which only leads to WHAT THE HELL’S ON THE COMPUTER. Gang, Chet may be a scoundrel (trust me) but it’s hard for me to imagine John Walsh talking about him on America’s Most Wanted.”

“Chet likes to sell insurance when he’s not diving into peoples’ personal affairs. He has a?beer belly only the Milford Beverage Warehouse could love. He goes by several alias’s, including Chet Baker. He was last seen wearing a fake beard he bought out of Milford Novelty. If you’ve seen this man, your tip could save the season for the Milford Mudlarks. Call now at 1-888-GIL-HELP.”

 

They would tell you that he’s Rent-a-Supe

A man with no direction and no life

They would tell you that he really

Needs to have a wife

That’s if these doors could speak

 

“Ronco?”

“They make Julienne fries, Marjie.”

 

“Boy, all this action and I need to unwind and take a cold one. And what better way of relaxing after a tortuous 5-game season with the Mudlark Girls Basketball team than heading down to Milford Beverage Warehouse for all my chilling-out needs?

Hi, this is Mimi Thorp, taking my husband’s place who is on assignment and won’t be back for another 60 years. And man, when I see the selection of fine beers and wines, I’m tempted to add another game to the schedule. Lining up the referees to sign the contracts might require an extra Bud or two, but I’ll manage.

And look what I got lined up here. This is better than Correctable Error. Michelob Ultra in the 12-pack, a steal at $10.99. At that price, we’re trapping at the half-court line so WE CAN get the beer back.

And Maker’s Mark Whisky, sold for an arm and my husband’s hair at some liquor places, is a bargain at $24.99. Perfect for when I need to drown in my beer after my star player misses the go-ahead free throw when we should have blown out Goshen by 60 anyway.

And us ladies are in for a treat. For every 30-pack Busch Light we buy at the rock-bottom price of $17.99, The Warehouse will give you a voucher for free ammo and a shoot-out at Milford Conservation Club. Ladies, time to start working on your aim when those clay pigeons and Svedka Vodka bottles come out of the chute. Shoot, for Svedka, I’ll say “pull” anytime.

Come on down and taste The Good Life and have your Colt .45 ready in the trunk. With prices like these, I’ll get that Winchester Gil’s grandpa has stashed away in Gil’s Conestoga wagon in the back. With ridiculous prices and free chances to pretend I’m aiming at Marty’s head whenever the objet d’art flies in range, I know where I’m going after scrimmage. Join me, won’t you? Only at The Warehouse.”

 

Go at it, Gang. I’m going to look up all the dirt about the guy. I’m sure Rent-a-Supe has an interesting past.

 

“Rottweiler?”

“That’s Fred Flintstone’s dog!!!!!!!!!”

“Ruff?”

“That’s Dennis the Menace’s!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Still love your music after all these years, Amy. Your style never gets old. And you live your Faith.

May Jesus continue to bless you.

 

November 2, 2019

Sweet Child o’ Mine

Filed under: boring memories, freak feet, Gil Thorp, Just plain sad, Mimi Thorp — teenchy @ 8:38 pm

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I’ve been contributing here at TWIM for what seems like ages, and I’ll be the first to admit that I’ve lost a step when it comes to my institutional memory of the Thorpiverse. That said I’m having a hard time picking up on a couple of the details in today’s strip.  They’re as fuzzy to me as the toes on Mimi’s right foot.

First, what law prevents Gil from sharing the details of his convo with Chance Macy with Mimi? I’ve given FERPA a cursory glance and I can only surmise that Gil’s referring to Chance’s school records re his behavior, and that Mr. Coach Thorp qualifies as a “school official with legitimate educational interest” to whom a school can disclose those records without written permission from the parent or eligible student. That would cover the records, but the conversation? It’s not protected by attorney-client, accountant-client, priest-pentient, doctor-patient or therapist-patient privilege. Someone please clue me in.

Second, where in the course of the past week’s strip did we get any inkling that Chance was sad about all of this? He went walking and talking with Gil but the main thrust of that talk was the therapy he’s had and the things that set him off. (The “my so-called parents” line leaves an opening. Did they abandon Chance to his grandparents after one too many knife-throwing jags?) You know who must be sad, sweet children, Mimi? Keri and Jamie!

October 10, 2019

I Never Get Blowtop Mad On The First Date.

Filed under: ?, football, Just plain sad, Pissy faced minor character, shadow figures, Tilden — tdrewhardin @ 7:21 am

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Chet and Charlie discuss the game with Chet at full speed singing the praises of Charlie’s game. Charlie takes the high road, thinking of the TEAM first. Don’t that beat all.

Gang, let me first off announce that those of you with kids who play sports or are thinking of playing sports, your career, win, lose, or draw, will go a lot smoother and happier if you encourage your son or daughter to put the TEAM first. He or she will be on more teams that way. You’ve helped your chances anyway.

When I was encouraging my nephew, the Chet’s of this world were the loneliest creatures on the planet. They were in a lawn chair or in the bleachers all by themselves. They were the ones who talked about how their son scored 45 points and the coach sat him on the bench. What Chet WON’T tell you is the team lost, his son allowed his man to torch him for 47 points, and he blew the lay-up that would have won the game. Chet has selective memory.

THEREFORE, don’t do what Chet is doing in P1, in other words. Chet is myopic in relation to Milford Mudlark football. Did he bring his Texas Instrument TI-30 calculator when he computed the average? I don’t know if that one has a slide rule or a metric equivalent. I’m curious to see what his yards per carry efficiency on 3rd downs was in meters. And does it have a graphing function. Chet, you better double-check to see if his stock is rising, literally. If it stalls right about when the linear function crosses the y-graph, I’d worry. Coach might bench him. The first-stringers are always in the first quadrant.

Really, where DID Chet get that info? Okay, the calculator but did he slip a steno pad past the turnstiles and after he put all his coins and handgun in the tray so the metal detector wouldn’t play the Mudlark Fight Song? Chet, as long as you were going to write facts and figures on your pad, write down another figure, when you think of it, of course: The final score.

I understand steno pads at Office Supply sell briskly on that concept.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Leads Milford Parks & Recreation Adult Flag Football League In Yards Per Catch Clutch Efficiency On Second Down With A 5.4 Greatest Common Factor!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“It woulda been higher but some safety ripped my shorts off when he grabbed the flag so they called back my TD run.”

 

Ok, kiddies, we have a special nursery rhyme that beats “3 Blind Mice” and “Jack and Jill” the way Tilden beat Milford, sneak up on you then have a sense of urgency when the script forgot to print the score up until the last 30 seconds

Chet and Charlie

Rode on their Harley

To practice at the football field

 

Gil wasn’t coaching

Kaz went poaching

Chet’s beard had lost its appeal

 

So did his overbearing demeanor but I couldn’t fit that in the nursery rhyme and couldn’t find something that rhymes with “Step-parent needs to get a life.”

 

And don’t get me wrong. Your kid has to have fun and has to enjoy the sport and that has to be the #1 priority. If you win, that goes at the bottom of the list. Sure, losing sucks and winning IS a priority but a BOTTOM priority.

That said, avoid clubhouse lawyers like Chet. Believe me, if your kid is in involved in sports, you’ll run into them. One reason why I think “Ball Four” by Jim Bouton is a waste of time is that he spends a lot of time talking about his individual performance and not about the TEAM performance. Check out the appendix in the back. It is nothing but Jim statistics which is understandable but they’re slanted so that everything’s about Jim and NOT the team. I give every book a chance. This book blew its own because if you want the TEAM to win, you really can’t have the mindset of this book. And Pete Rose, BTW, was not always popular, being a fierce competitor will do that. And a fierce competitor wouldn’t be taking greenies as alleged in the book. I don’t blame ya, Pete, for being upset.

Anyway, encourage your kid to be a TEAM player along with having fun. You might be surprised how many teams he or she makes.

 

I was fascinated by a town in Greece I read about that has survived well before the BC era to the present. Knowing that Agrippina, a public speaker in the 5th century BC who edited Pindaric odes and Aeschylus’ memoirs, came from the same town as members of Buffalo Springfield (or the equivalent, I forgot which)

Yesterday’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Remains Of Thorpolos And His Playbook, Not To Mention His Exegesis On Plato’s Rough Draft Of ‘The Republic’, Discovered While Milford Toyota Plant Works On Prius Expansion!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford breaks record for differential between 4 B.C., the confirmed birth of Thorpolos, according to the Anthropology Department at Milford CC, and the birth of Gil at 1958. Previous record was Dr. Pearl’s great-aunt born during the Second Crusade.”

 

Nice to see Charlie Roh doing his best Lyle Lovett impersonation. And Lyle is really the one who is the voice of reason in the present discussion. I always admired (and still do) players who take responsibility for the loss because when you lose, you ALWAYS look inward. It doesn’t do any good to play the blame game at anyone else. In sports, GOOD drives out BAD (believe me) and if you’re winning, politics does not play an overriding factor. Sure, a player’s parent may hate your guts because you’re a Cub fan (couldn’t resist, Robmize) but if people want to win, the politics are normally kept to a minimum.

Okay, that out of the way, Lyle is, take your pick,  transmogrifying into the pupal stages of The Incredible Hulk, is beset with a bad case of zits from all those Snickers he snarfed before the game, or this is a continuation of the Night Gallery segment, “Caterpillar”, and the eggs have escaped the sufferer’s ear and are currently crawling all over his face. Now some of you faint-hearted wussies are steering the easy way out by saying that Charlie, or Lyle in disguise at the Grand Ole Opry, is sweating. C’mon, in THORPIVERSE??? When was the last time sweat actually looked like sweat or they drew those players in the background so we’re not engaged in another episode of “Creature from the Black Lagoon? I bet once those shadowy lizards remove their helmets, they’ll be afflicted with baby caterpillars on their faces too.

And you can’t cheat and say that that’s Minnie Pearl with Milford Cold Cream all over her face to remove the creeping warts that are engaged in a parasite-host relationship. Charlie’s a guy, remember?

 

Chet fed Charlie

A whole lotta barley

To boost his running game

 

Charlie met trouble

When he farted in bubbles

Now his bowels won’t be the same

 

Now we get to the clinical portion of the strip. Grandpa (we think) Macy is trying to imitate Dr. Phil by spouting out terms he learned the other day watching the show while dipping his Milford IGA Restaurant Chips into the IGA Tostitos Salsa Dip.

What the Hell does he mean by “situationally mad”? “Blowtop mad”? Like us readers are supposed to know the difference. Sure, Grandpa, if Chance racks the guy’s nuts, it was because he was situationally mad because the situation, as in baseball, called for the aforementioned action because the Tilden jerk called Chance’s mom all kinds of names, unprintable on this Christian website. If the Tilden jerk said something about Gil’s mom and said she raised him to be an incompetent coach who couldn’t find the end zone even with a AAA Travelogue, well, it’s probably true but THAT’S when you get blowtop mad and blow the Tilden player’s head off with a bazooka. Gotta stick together against the enemy.

Gang, aren’t you getting situationally mad at the one-size-fits-all artwork in relation to Grandma Macy (don’t hold your breath on that one) ? The other day she was Mary Tyler Moore who was married to Rob Petrie. He couldn’t trip over the ottoman because Gil was desperate and had to use it as a blocking dummy. School budget cutbacks, y’know. Anyway, MTM got her glasses courtesy of the Buy One Get The Second One 1/2 Price (Canadian dollars accepted) . Today, she’s the female member of Fairport Convention. Yeah, groovy,  man, #53 is way out, like in Mudlarkland. A real square. Don’t let him upset you, Chance. Instant karma will run his ass over. Just look what that semi did to Booby’s friend. Booby got his.

And I think it is the neatest trick in the book for Grandpa Jones/Walton/Macy to throw his voice and let his forehead to do all the talking. The Tilden Jerk couldn’t do that out of his butt and not use Charmin. Pity.

 

If ya git pig doo-doo all over yore face cuz ya won first prize at the Hog-Callin’ portion of the Milford County Fair Pig Exhibit Expo ’19 cuz yore voice proved ta be a little too irresistable ta Miz Piggy and the rest of her Yorkshire clan, ya might be a redneck.

 

“My God, Fred!!!!!!!!!!!! Aunt Ethyl’s got a spheroid lodged in her skull!!!!!!!!! And who’s that giant out there walking off with Uncle Morton in his casket?”

“Hell with Uncle Morton!!!!!!!!! He owed me money anyway!!!!!!!!! Call The Shark!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Folks, it was a Nightmare on Elm Street until I called The Shark. Then It Was a Wonderful Life. George Bailey had real money coming in and he didn’t have to rely on angels or the Milford Civitan Club to wheel it in. We could lower our aunt and uncle 6 feet under, knowing we had money in our pockets. Joe even paid for the funeral programs at Milford Funeral Solutions. What a swell guy.”

“You heard it from Fred Snerdley. When creepy people who should not be ordering Bucket Shish Kabob from the menu, let alone walking the streets of Milford toting Gil’s grandfather, it is time to act. Tall Man may have thrown one spheroid missile too many at the Tilden Jerk, but decent people like Fred Snerdley need to be justly compensated when the Tall Man barges in on the Nude Swimming Party. Granted, Aunt Ethyl looked unsightly in her birthday suit.  What 93-year-old doesn’t? She still should have been spared the weaponry and I proved that by fighting the insurance companies when Mr. Snerdley made a claim. And the Tall Man will have to loosen his checkbook to the tune of $4, 739, 023, 912. If he can afford to carry corpses around, he’s got the money.”

“I was able to fix the cracks in the pool and clean the blood stains on the diving board. And I can put away some for my grandkids to attend Milford Community College. My grandson wants to be a sanitation engineer. The rest I put in escrow. Thanks, Shark.”

“Sounds like a happy ending to me. Get your own Flintstones happy ending, where that tuba is really blaring, and call 1-FON-THE-JAWS today. Insurance companies are hard at work hauling caskets on the Santa Fe Trail. Don’t let them beat you to Oklahoma. Get the money you deserve so you can play “Home on the Range” on your tuba in the evening. You’ll be glad you did.

 

Time to go to work, Gang. If you need me, I’ll be at the Grand Ole Opry. I want to get there early so I can get a front row seat for the Lyle Lovett concert. I understand Gil is the opening act. I thought his comedy died the way Aunt Ethyl did. Guess not.

 

Chet lectured Charlie

His hair was Bob Marley

But, Chet, my running 4 TD’s settled all bets

 

Better stay humble

You coughed up 2 fumbles

And DAMMIT QUIT CALLING ME CHET

 

At The Bucket drive-in area

“May I (swoooooshhhh) take your (swiiiiiiiiiiishhhhhhh) order?”

CRACKLE

“Uh, yeah, I’ll have the Bucket Triple Cheeseburger, no onions or pickles, an order of fries, and-what do you want?-she’ll have the Bucket Pork Rib Sandwich, extra cayenne, and a Tub o’ Bucket Buffalo Fries-)

“(swwwwoooooooshhhh, crackle crackle) Ya want somethin’ ta drink (swiiiiiiiiiiiisssshhhhhh) ?

CRACKLE

“Yeah, give us-

SCREEEEEEEEAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMM

“What’s WRONG”

“What is Coach Thorp doing, climbing out of your trunk!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“No idea. Oh, hey, Coach. Sorry about that clipping. Coach Kaz will work on it tomorr-

BOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

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