This Week in Milford

November 7, 2019

We’ll Do The Absentee Coaching Around Here.

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What? The Haley’s M.O. Moment was just a put-on? Chance really wasn’t constipated? His bowels were moving fine, he didn’t need Mudlar-K-Cola Prune-Enriched to fuel his Toyota Corolla jump? He really wasn’t M.-O.K.??????????

What was he doing in the Port-o-Pot? A better question is what happened to all that T. P.????????? I heard of taking one for the team but this is ridiculous. I’m glad he stepped aside by faking his stomach cramps but there is an unaccounted-for amount of Charmin floating around the premises of Milford High School.

So next time you are substitute-teaching at Mudlarkland and you find this Mt. Everest amount of Bounty in the faculty bathroom, you’ll know that it was because SOMEONE remembered at Milford High “There’s no ‘I’ in the word ‘Team'”. Maybe in the word “Shit” but SOMEONE was “Shitting” for the “Team”. Supposedly, anyway.

“Mrs. Thorp, please don’t squeeze the Charmin!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I wasn’t, Mr. Whipple. I was testing the firmness of these cabbages. It’s our turn to bring the food for the Milford PTA meeting and I’m bringing Southwest Salad Supreme. Where’s your Newman’s Own Roquefort?”

 

And you talk about false advertising. At least SOMEONE was coaching by faking his taking one for the team by faking his swelling of hemorrhoidal tissues. So Rick Scott had to apply a liberal dose to Chance’s crack. Whoop-de-dah. At least his butt was in order and the trainer’s medicine cabinet has an ample supply of Preparation H next to the Flintstone’s Chewables. Nice to know that if Charlie is called upon to fill in again in a pinch to run up the score, Chance will have plenty of Barney’s and Wilma’s when he’s faking his migraines. And doing his part to exercise leadership in the process.

Oh, not Gil, nooooooooo. True, he took the time from Milford Lounge to visit Chance’s grandparents to be assured Chance wasn’t Norman Bates. But he could have sent Lassie to investigate. And saved the trouble of prolonging his absentee landlord status in relation to the football team.

“Lassie, what’d you find out?”

RUFF

“Chance was an ax murderer? How’d he get released?”

RUFF

“He and Papillon jumped the fence? Weren’t they in chains?”

RUFF

“Oh, they were playing flag football.”

RUFF

“And leading The Mean Machine by a touchdown.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“30 Rolls Of Milford Tree Farms Toilet Towels Found In Shower Stall Of O. J.’s Condo!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Trail stops cold after contraband unloaded from Milford Roadway terminal.”

 

When I came home last night

You wouldn’t make love to me

You went fast asleep

You wouldn’t even talk to me

 

Give it to me, what you say

Give it to me right away

 

“Dear, you’ll have to turn that down. Chance just went to bed. And put my wig back on the dresser when you’re done funking. I need it for the Embroidery 101 class at Milford High Night School.”

 

On our journey that is the Mudlark Football season, we approach P2 with some reservations. Like who all these people are, which we assume are the fans and families who are celebrating the victory and well they should. I’m having a bit of a problem with the Kent State arrangement of humanity after the Milford National Guard just stepped on the gridiron but I think we can hold our breath that nothing is going to occur. Gil can blow his whistle should a Guardsman aim his Uzi at Chance or Grandma Macy. The whistle is being used for something since it was hanging in the linen closet in Gil’s office, y’know, the one with the windows affording a view of the Trump Towers. Gil was out on the road on another stint of absentee coaching. I heard Courtyard by Marriott gave discounts to Coaches In Absentia.

“But the coupon said that if I was not coaching 10 times, I’d get the 11th stay in a double suite. Free. Shoot, I can’t remember the last time I told the team ‘Win one for The Gipper’. I think when Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band was released.”

“But the coupon expired after the Tet Offensive.”

 

SOME PEOPLE MIGHT SAY I’M INFATUATED

BUT I DON’T CARE

CUZ THEY JUST DON’T KNOW

THEY’LL NEVER SEE OR HEAR…

 

 

THEY CAN ALL GO TO HELLLLLLLLL

YOU AND I (DO DOOO)

WE GET TOGETHER LIKE GIL AND SHAW (DO DO DOOOOOOO)

Kaz knocks on the door leading into the Intro Woods class which is tightly locked

“Luhm, are you OK? I can hear that music all the way down at The Bucket.”

Luhm rips the needle off of the Vintage Vinyl “Come Get It!!!!!!!!”

“Yeah, just gotta dust the lathe machine and then damp-mop and buffer the floor. I’m good.”

 

RIP, Rick James. Your funkadelic style was an inspiration to many.

 

And while they’re rioting in the streets of Milford in P2, does somebody have a surgical kit handy? I think Gil and Charlie just welded their hands together with a soldering tool. I’ve heard of a coach bonding with his players but this is ridiculous. I hope neither has to go to the bathroom anytime soon. Man, it’s a bitch when one of the Siamese Twins has to let off a load in the Port-o-Pot. The other one can get the Charmin to wipe, assuming Luhm replaced the stolen merchandise.

 

If yore 3rd-shift foreman at Milford Foundry is bein’ non-existent but ya reach yore produk’tivitee goals in yore department and the man comes around ta reward y’all by turnin’up the air conditioner one degree so ya don’t sweat thru yore Hanes T-shirt so bad or smelly, ya might be a redneck.

 

And P3 arrived at the train station right on time.

One of the things I learned when I was pursuing a foreign language in school was that foreign countries, especially Europe, prided themselves on how PUNCTUAL their passenger trains were.

Well, the Orient Express couldn’t have arrived any sooner to practically take the credit for Charlie’s success. And as you can see, Bluto is willing to risk Foot-in-Beard disease to achieve his stated objectives.

Now before we go any further, I am inspired by Bluto’s Weight Watcher program that he has inflicted on himself. Last I remember, he had a paunch that could crush Olive Oyl in the opening round of the Milford Sumo Wrestling Holiday Tournament.

In P3, he has evidently weighed his portions punctiliously, using the metric balance scales he hocked from the Milford School Corporation Science Supply Building while fishing for Chance’s records. Hey, I need to lose a few pounds myself. Bluto, the next time you are in the complex digging for Chance’s dental records (“The pediatrician prescribed Poly-Grip????????”) , would you slip a balance my way? I need to count my Ritz Crackers wisely.

NOW, why in the name of Agatha Christie were we not surprised when Bluto showed his face again? This was the proverbial “Not if, but WHEN”. J. Wellington Wimpy, 1000 Bucket Burgers up his butt while munching on a Big Mac was not going to take part in the baccanalian affairs on the football field (A Funny Thing Happened To Me On The Way To The Football Field-“Something appealing, something appalling…”) to locate Charlie and talk about his TD run. Swee’ Pea was in bed. NO, BLUTO WAS GOING TO UPSTAGE POPEYE ONCE AGAIN AND SAY HE WAS THE ONE WHO INSPIRED HIM TO RUN LIKE FRANCO HARRIS OR ANY OF YOUR FAVORITE NFL RUNNING BACKS. Popeye forgot to eat his spinach and couldn’t inspire you to run around your living room or Gil’s office. Popeye and Bluto will not be at Denny’s for breakfast and Christian fellowship.

That off my chest, notice Gil doing a double-take in P3. The predictable continues. Stay tuned.

Assuming you’re well-endowed with Sominex.

 

“And that’s the gun signaling the end of the game. Milford wins it in a laugher, 121-10. I’ll have all the stats for you in a moment. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

 

SHE’S A VERY KINKY GIRL

THE KIND YOU DON’T BRING HOME TO MOTHER

SHE WILL NEVER LET YOUR SPIRITS DOWN

ONCE YOU GET HER OFF THE FIELD

 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

 

“Yeah?”

“Gil, your wife just called again. It’s 10:35. Don’t you think you ought to go home to bed?”

“Kaz, I’m as lame as a lollipop that’s been out in the sun too long. I couldn’t stiff if I put on Dean Martin’s “Houston.”

“But Gil, you’ve been playing Super Freak for 3 hours. And I hope you aren’t dancing in your Fruit of the Loom boxers again.”

“Crap. I forgot that Luhm didn’t fix the curtain rod. Do you think anybody can see the lemon-lime pattern?”

“Maybe in the Trump Towers but they’d have to use binoculars and care about what you look like when dressed down to your Calvin Klein Boysenberry Print.”

“It’s just that Rick James gets me in the right mood. Sometimes it takes a little longer, especially after I’d eaten that Fazoli’s Sampler. Lasagna just slows any Erectile process. Bit me and Rick will be partying like it’s 1999. And I’ll be sawing the logs with Mimi cuz I’ll have something hard to saw with.”

“Gil, I think you mean Prince.”

A momentary check into the record inventory

“That’s right. I’ll be gettin’ pumped to Purple Rain by midnight.”

“Gil, I think a better solution would be checking out all the ways Milford Men’s Clinic can help you. They have proven techniques and equipment and you don’t need Milford Book and Music Exchange to solve your problem.”

“You’re saying I won’t need O’Jays ‘Money, Money, Money’ to junp on Mimi with confidence?”

“Gil,  I think you answered your own question.”

 

“There it was. I was confident to open my office door and let Kaz see me in my Hanes Fred Flintstone Print Boxers and Rick James wig. Price you pay if you want to be consistently efficient with your Significant Other. And I am having great sex and couldn’t care less if the tenant on the 11th floor of the Trump Towers sees us. They need to watch infomercials anyway. Come to Milford Men’s Clinic and be your own Funkmeister. Whay have you got to lose but the wig?

 

Gang, go to it. You have truly been patient and I thank you. I just hope Bluto doesn’t dig into my records and find out the reason.

 

At the Milford School Board meeting one evening

“And I also have records when his dad was down in the south, doing heists with Pretty Boy Floyd. What more evidence do we need to declare that Chance is not fit for the football team?”

“Mr. James, some of the evidence is circumstantial-”

“That’s Mr. Ballard!!!!!!!! You don’t recognize me?”

“The dreadlocks don’t match the beard.”

 

At the Milford Comedy Club on Open Mike Night

“…what do I look like, Rick James on the Quaker Oats label?”

Mimi stands up

“I better go out for a smoke break. Anybody got a light?”

“But you don’t smoke. When did you take up the cancer sticks?”

“Believe me, Gil is worth 2 cartons of Virginia Slims.”

November 6, 2019

Oh, What a Feeling!

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Is Chance trying out for the cheerleading squad or auditioning to sell Toyotas?

I realize I’m dating myself with the latter reference (“Ok Boomer” is the pissy way the kids are saying it this week IIRC). Speaking of pissy, nice shift from pissy-faced to all smiles by old Gildeaux there. You’d think Gil would be having a cow about one of his starters benching himself with a fake injury to give his backup some playing time, but it didn’t faze him that much when True Standish did it for Jarrod Hale a few years back.

Nope, Gil’s just relieved that Chance is staying away from The Bucket, where they have sharp utensils handy. Better Macy and his shadow teammates punch the air harmlessly, another audition to shill old Toyotas…

 

November 5, 2019

What A Coincidence. The TWIMers Have Staged Their Own Self-Imposed Punishment.

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DUM DA DUM DUM

DUM DA DUM DUM

DUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

“The story we are slogging through is true. The names have been mercifully changed to protect the innocent and our sanity.

On November 5th, 2019, trial was held in the Milford Municipal Court for a one Chance Macy. In a moment, the results of that trial.”

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! My eyes are on fire!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Quick, turn off the TV!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hold on, dear, let me get a glass of water, you’ll feel better.”

 

“Hello, this is Joe Sharkey with The Shark Law Office. George Smutfield was one sick puppy after his frontal retina plantar discs were reduced to ashes after being subjected to a Chance Macy Marathon on WDIG-TV. His pupils became Play-Doh at the juncture where Dr. Pearl was due-processing Chance to Milford Boys Reformatory.”

“I just couldn’t take it anymore. I had to rinse out my corneas after Chance got a paddling, with the science teacher Gil dragged out of Advance Chem Lab, because Chance said Gil couldn’t coach a tandem bike even with handles on. Thank God Chance didn’t say he saw Gil’s crack, like I did, when he was fixing the spokes or I would have had to wash my corneas in Palmolive. Thanks to the aggressive tactics of The Shark Law Office, WDIG-TV settled out of court for $4,548,920,601. Thanks, Shark.”

“Ouch. My eyeballs are in dire need of Visine after listening to that testimonial. But there was a happy ending as you can see.

Insurance companies are hard at work to cover for the couch potatoes who are defenseless against bad programming. Don’t wait until The Joker sinks Batman and Robin in a sulfuric acid bath to get the money you deserve. Call 1-FON-THE-JAWS today. One call, that’s all.”

 

“The Milford Municipal Court accepted the self-inflicted punishment engineered by Chance Macy after Chance had violated Milford Penal Code 134, Section 9, Article 57 “Intolerable Activities that can and many instances indeed lead to Unwarranted and Unforeseen Implications, including Excessive Maudlin Circumstances and General Incorrigible Apathy, which is punishable by 5 years of Incarceration in said comic strip or a fine of $123,000 or both.”

 

“Chance Macy is now serving 3 years in the Flemings’ household and will be compelled to forfeit 25% of his allowance until the $98,345 fine is paid.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Turns Himself In After Shoplifting Incident At 12 Years Of Age!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I couldn’t go on with THAT on my conscience. The Blow Pop was spiked anyway. And Ito’s a fair judge.”

 

Hoo boy. P1 just uttered Ridiculously Obvious Comment of the Year.

Who ELSE was going to bench Chance after it has become clear, time after time again, that the inmates are running the prison. Couldn’t you see The Shawshank Redemption?

“Warden Norton, I’m going down to The Bucket for that 1/2 off Bucket Steak and Lobster Special. Hard to pass up. Even comes with a salad. Want anything?”

“Yeah, Dufresne, but tell ’em I don’t want tartar sauce this time on that Bucket Grilled Salmon Bowl. Gives me heartburn. Here’s a 50. Keep the change. And don’t forget to shine my shoes when you come back. Me and Hadley are going to a Cubs game this afternoon.”

Spur of the moment, Robmize(ha).

 

I mean, this is just plain silly. After a week of wasting the reader’s time with a practically brazen lack of an invite to investigate Dennis the Menace and why he slugs Ruff every time the poor beast doesn’t eat his Ken’L Ration, our roving reporter morphs into Mr. Rogers?

“Coach, my butt itches something fierce. I gotta take a seat.”

“Hold on, Rick still has some Preparation H left over from that Milford Band Fundraiser Double-Elimination Softball Tournament. Let me go ask him”

As commercial fades to product

“Preparation H helps shrink the swelling of an ego and hemorrhoidal tissues caused by oversweating on an end sweep or off tackle right.  Available OTC at Milford 24-Hour Apothecary today.”

No.

 

“When it’s time to relax

One beer stands clear

Year after year

 

If you’ve got the yards

We’ve got the beeeeeeeerrrrrrr”

 

Miller Time couldn’t get any finer for Chance

 

And nobody more than I is happy for Charlie as he is getting his chance to shine under the bright lights. It always warmed my heart when a kid who was a best-kept secret could overcome things beyond his control to strut his stuff in the public eye.

That said, you KNOW before too long that Loudmouth Ballard will be demanding the game ball after Charlie arguably, at the rate we’re going anyway, chews up the field to the tune of, say, 134 yards, 3 TD’s, as Milford goes on to win, 101-6 (one TD called back because the Mudlarks had 12 men on the field-Chance got a little carried away as a cheerleader-Preparation H will do that, I s’pose) .

 

If ya turn yoreself inta th’ Game Warden after ya killed a ‘coon one day after Bow Season ended but ya eat the contents in yore jail cell and add some Lowry’s Sea Salt ‘n’ Vinegar and share some with Otis the Drunk after he woke up from sleepin’ 12 hours, ya might be a redneck.

Then there’s the scenery. Based upon actual projections and assuming the Madison player to Charlie’s immediate right is not love-fist-bumping Charlie, the second-stringer might have a monster game but not on this play. If this were mathematics and the Convergence Graph were duly employed, Chance will not be asymptomatic here. In plain English, he’s about to get knocked on his ass.

Unless there’s some Arctan function that can ride him out of this trap. Well, as long as Gil isn’t coaching, he might want to employ his trigonometry ratios he learned at Milford Community College. He can teach Law of Cosines while he’s on Coaching Sabbatical.

 

“Coach, I’ve got jock itch bad!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Here, let Lassie lick the wounds. Can you be ready by the 3rd quarter?”

“How ’bout the 4th quarter if I buy the Purina Dog Chow Chicken Flavor?”

“Said and done.”

 

HAVE YOU VOTED!!!!!!!!!! Today’s the day if your area has people running for office. Be sure to get your butt down to the polls if you haven’t already. Remember, you don’t have a right to complain if you don’t exercise Democracy.

 

Hating to repeat myself but oh so true, I love it when a player has faced adversity and then winds up in a feel-good moment as in P3. As a coach, oh, let me count the ways.

That out of the way, it’s a cryin’ shame that Bluto Ballard is primed to ruin this Angels in the Outfield setting. It’s like Ranch Wilder actually WINNING and taking over the Angels or the Mudlark.

AND CHANCE IS BACK ON THE FIELD. WHY HE’S THERE AFTER HE JUST GOT OFF FROM THE MILFORD PRISON FARM LOADING HAY IS BEYOND MY COMPREHENSION. WHY DOESN’T GIL TAKE THE HIGH ROAD AND KEEP CHARLIE IN. THIS IS BAD FOOTBALL, FOLKS.

The generic station manager of WDIG opens the door and walks in

“Ranch?”

Ranch turns around flashing that Pepsodent smile

“Marty’s coming back next week from his flu epidemic. You’re fired.”

YOU CAN’T FIRE ME!!!!!!!!!!!! WE HAD A CONTRACT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M RANCH WILLLLLLDDDDDEEEERRRRRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Easy, Ranch. Remember, less is more. Especially with those truancy records you and Bluto tried to pawn off at the Milford School Board meeting.”

 

Oooooooookkkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back to restore reason to this sad state of affairs. Take the mike, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was soooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!  WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought Chance went to the Federal Pen because he committed_____________________ at school.”

 

“And Milford is really running up the score as Coach T. is pulling out all the stops. A new rule in effect this year allows parents of the players to put on a helmet if there are no comparable players available. Looks like Chet Ballard is joining the 4th-string and taking the field. I understand the coaching staff had to use a putty knife to wedge his helmet in with his beard. This comedy of errors gives me an opportunity to take a station break. This is Marty Moon on WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

One late evening at Milford Stor-for-Mor, Door 79

“Honeyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!! I’m hornyyyyyyyyyy!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I want you to come home with meeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I can’t now, Mrs. Shaw. I gotta store these records of Chet Ballard when he set the kindergarten teacher’s dress on fire with his Zippo. As long as he is going to pursue Chance Macy with illegal wiretapping, well, two can play at that game.”

“But is it really necessary to have the iron door clamped shut and dead-bolted?”

“Woman, this is top-secret information that not even the Milford Police SWAT team is privy to. Ain’t no way I’m going to let anybody know who Chet’s 3rd-grade teacher was when he flushed her dentures down the toilet. What’s in-house stays in-house.”

“Darling, I know Chet’s a creep but I don’t think a U-Stor-It place is really necessary to conceal Chet’s vaccination records.”

“Shows you how much you know. He was diagnosed with herpes and didn’t tell anybody. Well, I have his prognosis right here that he tried to keep a secret but after I slipped a sawbuck to the secretary at Milford Minor Emergency Clinic, we can store this El Dorado until the appointed time. If Chet so much as reveals Chance’s Snickers purchases at Milford Confectionary, we can blow the whistle pronto. We’ll show him we can reveal his dirty laundry if he starts messin’ with Chance again.”

“I’d like you to reveal something all right.”

“No way am I going to reveal Dr. Pearl’s love tryst with Benjamin Rush. Yet.”

“A man with a padlock has his own dirty laundry to hide. But when he unzips his pants, the padlock does no good.”

“What could I say? I couldn’t hide my Erectile Dysfunction in the U-Stor-It bin. I had to come clean on my problem and glad I did. With treatment programs that work, shouldn’t YOU make a trip to Milford’s Men’s Clinic for your erectile problems? Come on down and let them unlock your potential. Don’t hide it under a bushel or the flame will get smothered and your significant other will be a Crayola. And there’s only so much Bridge you can play with your wife or Omar Sharif. Come to The Clinic and see for yourself. You’ll be glad you did.”

 

Gang, thanks for your patience. One of these days, I’ll get it together. I promise.

 

“Chet’s song flute is in here somewhere. Oh, here it is, under my picture of me and Mario Andretti in ’69.”

 

On a Haley’s M.O. commercial on WDIG-TV one fine day

“How’s your bowels holding out, Chance?”

“M.-O.K., Coach. I dumped a wad in the Port-a-Pot right before your half-time speech. I’ll go in on the next series.”

“That’s fine. If you need some prune juice, let me know.”

November 4, 2019

Is It Madison Time Already?

Filed under: actual action, football, Gil Thorp, Madison Time — nedryerson @ 10:23 am

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Chance Macy is back and look at him go! He’s leaving everyone in the dust!

By the 3rd Quarter, Chance’s ankle is a little sore. How much did the use him up until that point? I assume Milford is leading 27-6 (if the score is shown as Visitor-Home, which is how I usually read such things). So was Chance running all over Madison for the first half and then some? He must be fast.

So now it’s time to see Charlie Roh get some reps. Maybe we’ll find out if Chet and Charlie’s mother made the drive to Madison.

What a big whoop-de doo. At least we have Madison Time (now with funky organ):

May 23, 2019

Chef Gil, This Plot Has Been Chopped

Filed under: actual action, Just plain sad, Madison Time, softball, song parody — tdrewhardin @ 12:37 am

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You’re kidding, right? It’s this much of a no-brainer, kinda like someone handing you a $100,000 check when you’re leaving Milford Wal-Mart Neighborhood Market to take your groceries to the car. No strings attached??? Just don’t forget to sign your John Henry on the back when you cash it at Milford Federal.

Still doing a mental background check on the person the implementer of such largesse, well, gee, duh, if you’re caught up in “Tippicanoe and Gil Thorp too” buttons, worried more how they’ll play on the free market than THE ACTUAL GAME ITSELF, isn’t that another way of saying YOU REAP WHAT YOU SOW???? Yeah, it’s rocket science when you forget “There’s no ‘I’ in the word ‘team'”. We gotta go back to kindergarten to figure that out????? Linda, right now, I wouldn’t give you a scholarship on Romper Room’s intramural team.

 

“Coach, since you’re not going to do much coaching until, say August, loosely speaking, you understand, do you mind if I take a vacation?”

“No, Coach Boone, you only show up around the Playdowns anyway. To paraphrase Dylan, you just want to be on the side that’s winning.”

“Coach, that’s not entirely fair. I watched you work with your kids the entire afternoon practicing their putts at Milford Golf Course because you got tired of maxing your credit card at Putt Putt by teaching them how to negotiate the windmill. It was as exciting as watching paint dry teaching them how to avoid a bogey on par 5 dog leg left Shoot Through The Bazooka pin, but the cashier at Putt Putt was proud. Little victories in everything.”

“Oh, Hell, Boone, take the whole summer. If you can’t handle having to endure physical activity for long stretches at a time, take your candy ass to Wheel of Fortune for all I care. Win a trip to Bahamas and get lost.”

 

The trip to “Worst Cooks In America” is getting off to a resounding start, doncha think??? Hope Coach Boone brought his ‘A’ game.

 

How’ bout dippin’ into the ’80’s for a little Talk Talk?

Funny how the crowd observes my every move

I walk with lack of privacy at school

I wish I’d never paid 39 pennies

For the El Dorado

 

They just drool

 

I ask myself

Can I make it to a stall

 

 

It’s my badge

Don’t you forget it

It’s my badge

You touch, you’ll regret it

 

I like how timbuys mentions “just plain sad”. What other scenario can be drawn from today, especially P1? Gang, do what you want but I ain’t touchin’ P1 with a 10-foot pole. She is puttin’ on a clinic. Good arm extension, hip rotation, eye on the ball, level swing, ball poppin’ off the bat at a good angle. Guarantee it, Walt Hriniak is taking notes and he didn’t do that often.

But do we have to learn from The Joker about how to swing a bat because Batman was out in the Batmobile too long???? Yeah, it is, indeed, just plain sad when this clinic is coming from the other team. F— you, Mudlarks, and quit pullin’ your head when you swing. Correct me if I’m wrong Thorpiverse old-timers, especially from the Berrill era, but wasn’t some of the tips we’d see flashed on the screen not only educational and an added bonus, it actually came out of GIL’S MOUTH???? I know I’m not going to Tod Andrews’ Oakwood Baseball Summer Camp Junior High Division to learn how to use 2 hands and squeeze when you catch the ball.

The Philistines are teaching the Israelites how to Punt, Pass, and Kick.

 

Then there’s P2. What can ANYONE say????? It is going 180 degrees away from P1. Just about ANYTHING that’s right in P1 is wrong in P2. Players with heads up their asses, putting their own selfish agenda before what’s going on  the field. How can I mention fielding technique? I had a saying when I was coaching Babe Ruth League Baseball, “What do you tell the player who knows everything? Nothing.” In P2, rest my case.

 

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“USF Holland Semi Collides With TCFS VW Company Van!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Miraculously, no one was injured. Semi on the way to The Bucket to deliver guacamole chips.”

 

“Coach Boone is pulling the chips out of the oven-he forgot to add KC Master Bar-B-Q sauce to the recipe. You have 10 minutes on the clock, Coach.”

 

“So Coach, what are you making, if I may so ask?”

“I’m serving up a Guacamole Chicken Salad Tostada en los Frijoles Morenos y una Copa del Vino Merlot Fresco serving for 8 people. This has to be seasoned just right, especially when I lay the Grippo’s on the sheet pans.”

“Absolutely. I noticed you’re using Bar-B-Q chips. Aren’t you a little concerned that the judges might have Grippo’s breath for days?”

“Way ahead of you. I solved that problem watching ‘Trisha’s Southern Kitchen’ one night. She doused a pint of chocolate cherry liqueuer all over the Baked Chicken Gumbo, Sauteed in Nabisco Cheese Nips .I understand Trisha only needed a half a pack of Certs when she performed with Garth for a Nashville charity event.

 

If ya burned the guacamole chips and sneak out the back down to Piggly Wiggly, buy out the store of Golden Flake Cheddar ‘n’ Sour Cream Potato Chips, stick ’em in the bed of yore pick-up, lay the tarp over ’em so the judges don’t notice when they’re on a smoke break, then smuggle ’em to the cupboard on a commercial break, ironically enough Lay’s Vinegar Chips one of the sponsors, ya might be a redneck.

 

Being stalked by everyone

Green with envy

Can’t even approach the water fountain

 

Need a hall pass to Chem or French

Econ field trips are simply out

 

What a mountain

 

I ask myself

Can I buy a Twinkie from the cafeteria

 

 

 

 

 

It’s my badge

Don’t you forget it

It’s my badge

You just don’t get it

 

After coaching the linebackers for 2 strips while Gil is off another Big Adventure, Coach Boone returns for prep time.

“Okay (flush) , I put the guacamole sauce in the microwave. While that’s sizzling, I will get the chicken ready. (To himself) Goddammit, I told KFC I wanted white meat this time. (To the audience) Fortunately, I have a glass bowl ready, sitting by the Cocoa Pebbles, whattya know. I dump the chicken strips in the bowl, add a pinch of paprika, a pinch of cilantro, add a tablespoon of raspberry red, half a teaspoon of orange orange, and a quarter cup of green clovers and a half cup of yellow moons.”

“Coach, you think Lucky Charms will mix evenly in the bowl with Green Onion Grippo’s Chips.”

“I had to try something. I’ve already used Grippo’s Bar-B-Q Chips for my other secret recipe. Besides, it’s no different than making a free safety whose family is from Laos line up with the outside linebacker whose dad’s a hog farmer. They talk out their differences and BOOM BABY!!!!!!!! Next thing you know, we stop the tailback at the line of scrimmage. Friends For Life do that.”

“Just don’t forget to add Contadina Tomato Paste so the flavors don’t overwhelm. And some Lysol. The yellow moons got a little chewy when I sampled the product.”

“Thank you, judges. And I’ll add a few drops of iodine so that the acid-base reading is close to ‘7’ as possible.”

 

Then P3 is the culmination of the failed “Keep Cool with Cool Buttons” campaign. Yeah, I reckon you need to call the whole damn nation/keep the tailgate down with your glove if you don’t want another “Dewey Defeats Truman!!!!!! moment at the Mudlark Softball Complex.

Madison is just simply dancing in front of the Mudlark dugout, doing their best Travolta rendition, complete with disco ball. The spotlight is going back on the team bus with the rest of the Philistines. Lady Mudlarks, you’ve been chopped.

 

“Coach, I don’t understand. Weren’t you going to add guacamole chips to your dish?”

“NO!!!!!! Those were the appetizers to hold down the fort while I work through this. Kroger ran out of store-brand Restaurant Chips. I want this Guacamole Chicken Salad to be just right. The soy sauce clicked with the blue diamonds so CYA in that regard. But I got some Dorito’s Cool Ranch under the sink in case I gotta go to Plan B.”

 

Ooooooookkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back to help skewer this plot. Take ‘er away, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooo dumb  (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she wore a button that said ‘Too Cool for ________________'”.

 

“Coach, you ARE aware you have 5 minutes?”

“And your point is?

“The Guacamole Chicken Salad Tostada en los Frijoles Morenos y una Copa del Vino Merlot Fresco looks a little overdone. I can see au gratin potato stains all over the green clovers. And I’ve seen better cooked chicken at Mel’s Diner. I’m not sure Alice would even eat that Waffle House in Paradise.”

“HA!!!!!!!! That’s where I’ve got you judges where I want you!!!!! I want you to THINK I’m burning the merchandise but not only am I going to marinade it now, but the slight sizzle, or overcooked as you say, will bring out all the flavors, especially all the anise. The Trix portion of the dish won’t know what hit it. Honey Nut Cheerios pieces and Kroger Restaurant Chips simmering in a cream cheese marinade sauce? Like to see Thorp do better. He can barely marinade water.”

“All right, we’ll see what happens. You’re the cook. I just hope you come through with the Chocolate S’mores and Louisiana Lightning Sauce mixture that you highly bragged about.”

 

I snuck into the dugout gate

With my Holy Grail

Locked in the gym bag, best know the combination

 

Only “All The Way With LBJ”

Stopped TCFS hardware

 

From world domination

 

 

Convince myself

Mussolini ran campaigns better

 

 

This is my badge

Don’t you forget it

This is my badge

You can’t even pet it

 

This is my badge…

 

As Gil rides off into the sunset with one of the ostriches, rumor has it thst he was at the Savannah Section of Milford Nature Area

 

“Chef Boone, congratulations, you have earned the distinction Worst Cook in America. I wouldn’t feed this concoction to starving children in China, let alone on my block. The chicken was chewier than a Nerfball, the lemon juice was overbearing with the Cocoa Puffs, and don’t even go there with the guacamole chips. I could buy better chips from a street vendor who sells chili dogs at lunch.”

“I’m just getting Lay’s Potato Chips and KFC  Breast Dark Meat and maybe the mashed taters in the pee cup that comes with the chicken. You sure you didn’t take a urine sample yourself in this slop?  I’d be drug-testing you for stupidity at my restaurant right now. How you can have the audacity to mix Chic-Lets and oregano just so you can spice up your dish is more than a travesty. And the raspberry red was undercooked. Don’t quit your day job.”

“Chef Boone, or maybe just Mr. Boone, since you can’t coach or cook. Why in the world are you using Arm & Hammer Baking Soda after you take it out of the oven? You needed to mix it in to give the chips a more even texture. your chicken was raw and the substitute Tater Tots ‘n’ Vine Ripe Tomatoes that you got from your grandfather’s recipe didn’t really replace the guacamole chips you ran out of. Ever heard of Pam? Chef Boone, you’ve been chopped, I’ll save the trouble before the commercial break.”

 

“Thank you, judges.”

 

“HUGE HUGE shout-out to the staff in 5 Core Unit of the Intensive Care Unit at University of Louisville Hospital. They have waited on me hand and foot during my stay here and have done it with a “Service with a Smile” atmosphere. It would not be fair to name names, since there were many of them and the beauty is, many would rather not be mentioned anyway. Classic unsung heroes. You factor in the Medical Team that has stayed with me patiently throughout my recovery and you have a recipe for success. I can see why my nephew, a medical doctor himself, highly recommends them. A big THANK YOU is in order to these people who make a difference in our lives.

 

Comment away, Gang. No, I’m not getting autographs from the Madison players. I won’t go that far.

 

“What can I say? I need to use more Pam and canola oil next time. I appreciate the judges’ honesty as they’re only trying to make me better. I’ve chewed out a nose guard for not wrapping a guy when he’s tackling him. It’s all in the execution.”

 

“You callin’ me a candy ass???? Shoot, you couldn’t ride an ostrich through the Picnic Area!!!!!”

November 15, 2018

“Go Ahead. Get Rid Of This Plot.”

111518

PUT JIMMY CHITWOOD IN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Oh, that’s basketball, but still, appropriate in my view, since P3 is getting down to cases and I think I can semi-write the script the next few days. Come on along, I bet we have roughly the same hazy, inchoate ideas.

The “Hoosiers”-like scenario is gonna lead us into Xanadu, only without much pleasure, just stuck in a cave without a whole lot of players. If we’re down to few defensive backs like the caption implies, we know that our injured players are not going to return from the Emergency Room from Milford General with a Band-Aid on their arm, kissed by the nurse, and get back on the football field, pumped for action.

Therefore, Gil is Norman Dale, forced to work with a depleted or minuscule roster, only Norman did more with a town 1/10 the size of Milford, if that’s any omen (catch the hint, Thorpiverse) . And after another one goes down with malaria and another elopes with Raquel Welch, the script is going to force Gil’s hand, with the very likelihood that he’ll be confronted with whether to put in Tiki or not.

Hmmmmmmmm. Do I teach Tiki Life’s Lessons that’s says the game is bigger than you or me, therefore, as a matter of principle, I will not put you in even if Madison has 56 players and I only have one (Tiki, of course) after the other players shot their foot, took an early exit to The Bucket cuz they got The Munchies, went to their relatives for Thanksgiving, etc.?

Or do I go ahead and put you in and kick the winning field goal (just use your imagination how the ball got snapped) , hoping the 56 Madison players won’t block it and risk being called ‘unprincipled’? At least I’d have another “W” under my belt and we can warm up the buses as Dickie V. used to always say.

Whichever way Norman Dale/Ivan Boesky goes, it can’t be anymore difficult than trying to figure out WHAT is being thrown in P3. I’m going out on a limb and will say that Elroy Jetson catches those at his game (was All-Universe his junior year, his team signing a contract to play Milford in 2021) .

 

Oh, you whippersnappers know I can’t resist another Monty Python sketch. It’s in my blood

 

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

Gil opens the door to his office after being interrupted on his computer, attempting to engineer an illegal download on Cannonball Adderly

“Yes?”

It’s a soddy-looking man with a huge satchel in his arms. Gil wonders how he got past the hall monitor and a bit disappointed it wasn’t a student soliciting him for advice like Gil’s been distributing for the last 60 years. Oh, well, if he tries anything funny, I have this Magnum in my back pocket I borrowed from Dirty Harry, who is on lunch break down at The Bucket.

“May I help you?”

Gil’s got his manners on his person. He’s even using good grammar. Good start.

“Hello, I’m Simon Snidely, second-cousin to Snidely Whiplash, and I just got out of Milford Detention Center a week ago. I’ve tried to go straight but the burglary itch has caught me and I have to scratch it. I promise to go level after that. Do you mind if I steal maybe a couple of trophies and some money you have in your safe by the file cabinet?”

“Oh now, wait a minute, I’ve fallen for this before and every time I do, I wind up with a set of encyclopedias. You surely saw the large print set of World Book on my cabinet the other day. The TWIMers sure as Hell did.”

“No, no, I’ve just come in to steal a few things, that’s all. That gold-plated watch you got from the President of the United States during Bicentennial week looks valuable. I could make a mint on the black market, y’know.”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOO NO!!!!!!!! I once had Pretty Boy Floyd step into my office and the next thing you know, I wound up with Encyclopedia Britannica, the 52-volume Bilingual Edition, Roget’s Thesaurus as a free gift. I couldn’t wedge that damn set between the ’81 and ’94 basketball team portraits on the wall and had to buy some TV trays at Lowes to accommodate the rest of the collection. It looked kinda funny stacking the ‘P’s in English next to all the words in Spanish that used tildes. Did you ever try to shoehorn ‘Pittsburgh’ next to ‘manana’?”

“Sir, here’s my card. Simon Snidely, Esq., Official Thief and Bank Robber. Ask anyone around. Ask Joe Friday or Dirty Harry. He’s down at The Bucket ordering a Bucket Basketball-Goal Size Chicken Wings. Ask Lizzie Borden. Ask John Dillinger.”

“DON’T EVEN BRING UP ‘DILLINGER’!!!!!!!!!!!!! He sold me some Collier’s Encyclopedia 241st Anniversary Edition. Said George Washington carried them around during the Revolutionary War and the ‘G’ got shot through at Trenton. Sez some rookie soldier mistook it for a Redcoat who was reading his Bible. Got 30 days in the brig for that. And George read them in his idle time at Valley Forge. Used his Highlighter to note the things that interested him. Then that cad told me that George personally autographed it. An expert who came into my office later on who was concerned with his son’s playing time on the JV squad agreed to look at the ‘autograph’ if Kaz would start him in the Conference Finals. Boy, was I taken. He said George never used Paper-mate but Bic. I put the whole damn set on a shelf just above the toilet in my office bathroom. Coach Shaw loves to look at the rifle section when he’s dumping a load.”

Sir, I assure you, I am just here to grab a few things without paying for them, now if you’ll excuse me, I like that 2014 Football Team Championship Composite, valuable since with your coaching, it might be a while before you win another one…”

BLAMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“And I don’t even want to discuss the time Manson tried to sell me Childcraft.”

As Gil blows smoke on his Magnum.

 

P1-“Madison at Milford and with Tiki Jansen in his birthday suit.”

P4-“As Madison is pulling away from Milford, 105-0, Gil forced to utilize his Pop Warner League players…

JANSEN!!!!!!!!!!! GO SUIT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

And doncha just love the “Fantasia” feel in  P1? Where are the hippos and the crocs dancing to Tchaikovsky’s “Nutcracker Suite” when you need ’em? Oh wait, THEY’RE HERE!!!!!!!! I think the Madison defensive back’s a hippo, not for sure, got a bad angle.

 

Gang, if you’re in Valley Station, Kentucky at Mapco, stop on in. I went in the evening and the ladies there helped me get some great Chester’s Fried Chicken. They made some great suggestions that worked out better than the menu, although the menu is GREAT too. They put in my favorite condiments and brought my order up to the front and did so with a smile. Now THAT’S service. And the food was excellent. Gang, support Small Business. You need a place where everyone knows your name.

 

One day at lunch time at The Bucket, the students and adults intermingling in their booths, a strange phenomenon is occurring but nobody can finger what it is. Some strangers have graced the joint but Dirty Harry is not paying attention, he’s too caught up in the Milford Enquirer, checking out the Mudlark football score plus Bikel & Ebert’s Movie Review (“Milford Overrun By Locusts On The Planet Of The Apes”-Bikel gave it a THUMBS UP, Ebert gave it a THUMBS DOWN-“Too smarmy, locusts looked like Barney the Dinosaur”) . One of the strangers is slurping on a Bucket Cherry Shake, medium-sized, another is in another booth, vomiting on a Bucket Livercheeseburger, a third and fourth are sharing a Bucket Blue Tortilla Chips Appetizer Bowl, a fifth is taking a piss in the men’s room, and a sixth is eating Bucket Organic Brownies and Meatless Bucket Triple Cheese Burger while reading the Milford Racing News. there are no more thugs pretending to be a Mudlark because Dirty Harry has only 6 bullets in his Magnum. But don’t put it past Thorpiverse to try.

Mildred is dumping layers and layers of mustard and gobs and gobs of pickles on Dirty Harry’s Bucket Buffalo Chicken Sandwich Deluxe. Harry’s too engrossed in the Mudlark football news as he’s disgusted that Milford gave up too much yardage against Jefferson.

“Geez, why doesn’t Gil bring back Vince Packard? He might have been loose with his gambling debts but his teams played with hair on their chests”, he befoggedly asks Mildred who adds a cherry to the pile. Harry totes his to-go order out to his squad car and gets in ready to drive off, helping Joe Friday investigate Kaz’s stolen riding mower. (Later found in his senile grandmother’s yard) . He listens to “Love me, love me, go on and love me…” on his radio, takes a bite of his sandwich and consequently spits the bite out. it is LOADED with mustard and pickles. Oh, and Honey Nut Cheerios, although the latter was a mistake, they just hired a new cook.

“All right, ya done real good with that cop, now it’s time ta quit playin’, hand over all yo’ money, jewelry, credit cards, you name it, WE WANT IT!!!!!!” as the thugs finally get up and start picking people clean. People, students and adults alike frantically go through their wallets and school bags, one student hands a thug a coupon good for the next free piece of Bucket Chess Pie, whipped cream extra. The gratified thug takes it and runs. Marty hands a thug his media credentials. The thug will be happy slaying Gil at the next football game. Mimi digs through her piggy bank and tries to come up with ANYTHING that’ll stave off the hoods when one of them say

“C’mon, Honey, you comin’ wit’ me, we gonna have a party!!!!!!!!!! as the thug grabs Mimi by the hair which she just permed at Milford Beauty Solutions. Ah, you know thugs.

Suddenly, Dirty Harry comes out of Camp Swampy next door.

The thugs all stop pillaging and size up the enemy. (“The enemy is this plot”)

Dirty Harry thanks Lieutenant Fuzz for the ride, then turns around facing the thugs.

“Every day for the last 60 years, Mildred has put 2 packets of Gulden’s Mustard and 4 Vlasic Pickle Slices on my Bucket Buffalo Chicken Sandwich Deluxe.

Today, she put 1,876 packets worth of mustard and pickles running all over the sandwich, some had children which a few of those went on to MIT and Stanford, some got their GED’s, some had in-laws, some in-bred, some had illegitimate pickles, some ended up in my Bucket Triple Chocolate Shake. Did you ever try to suck a pickle throiugh a straw? Or an onion? I thought Mildred dropped one of croutons in my shake again.

Now you boys put those guns down and let’s head down to Milford Detention Center.”

“Say what, suckuh?” says Thug #1, holding Mimi an Uzi at Mimi’s head. Mimi is worried the perm will frizz out if the thug pulls the trigger. And Gil is in Oakwood for the Annual Conference Pre-Season Basketball Luncheon and he’s the keynote speaker (“…I always run a box-and-one on the Celtics, you can’t hold down Larry Bird, you can only contain him…”) .

“Well. You boys didn’t think we were just gonna let you walk out of this plot, did you?”

“Who’s ‘we’, suckuh?” as the other thugs are filching the car hops’ tips.

“Me and Smith & Wesson” as Dirty Harry pulls out his spare Magnum, the other, as mentioned, loaned to Gil.

BLAAAAMMMMMMMMMM

Thug #1 goes down, letting go of Mimi, who ducks under a table with Steve Luhm.

Thug #2 tries to run out the door with somebody’s wallet and Thug #2’s carry-out order of Bucket o’ Egg Plants ‘n’ Nutter Butter Peanut Butter Sandwich Cookies (thugs get hungry too and eat at The Bucket) .

BLAAAMMMMMMMMMMMM

Thug # 2 goes down right before he hits the door, glass all over the Bucket o’ Egg Plants (delicacy on some planet, I reckon) .

“COME ON GUYS, LET’S DITCH THIS PLOTLINE!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“You forgot your fortune cookie and Bucket Double Cheese Burger Combo.”

“WHATTTTTTTTTT!!!!!?????????”

BLAMMMMMMMMMMMMMM    as the Bucket Chili Fries from the Combo land in Dr. Pearl’s beehive while she takes cover under a table. Thug #3 splays on a booth and crushes a student’s Bucket Banana Split.

Thug #4 and Thug #5 get on the tandem bike and pedal towards the emergency exit, careful not to spill their Mudlar-K-Cola, nudged in the cup-holder of the bike, the grocery sack of stolen cash and credit cards strapped to the back.

Dirty Harry is up to the task. He gets a slight bit of indigestion from all the grease in the Chili Fries and BLLAAAAAAAMMMMMMMM’s awry but not a second time.

BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMM

Dirty Harry rings true, giving credibility to the Single Bullet Theory, shooting through both of them and they go down like bowling pins, lifeless.

Ms. Rizk, her first time out of her Journalism office since the Gay ’90’s due to a date with Luhm, shouts

THE PLOT IS COMING BACK TO LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BLAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

 

Finally, Thug #6 is on the ground in obvious pain cuz the cook fried his Bucket Pork Tenderloin in a Sea of Bucket Mayo and has the stomach cramps big-time. He spots a sawed-off shotgun left by one of the dead gunmen, just under The Bucket Hall of Fame Employee banner.

“Uh uh uh.” pointing Magnum at Thug # 6.

“I know what you’re thinking. But this is a Magnum, the most powerful weapon in the world and it can blow your head clean off.

Now in all this excitement, which is more than I can say for the Mudlark’s football-playing, I kinda lost count. Was it ‘5’ or was it ‘6’? Do you feel lucky, punk?”

Thug #6 takes one more look at sawed-off shotgun, farting a wad in the process from the sandwich. The stench probably tips the scale on his decision.

“Well, do you?”

Thug #6, not willing to find out if it’s the lady or the tiger, withdraws his hand. Marty grabs shotgun, tempted to use it on his boss at WDIG, but hands over to the Milford Police.

“Hey”

Dirty Harry turns around.

“I gotst to know. Is this plot gonna end?”

Harry obliges.

Click

Thug # 6 uses some unChristian vocabulary, getting the answer to both.

 

Gang, Have at it. I’ll be helping the distraught and do my part to bring some order, Marty DID come out of Mimi’s beehive, satisfied it WAS 6.

 

“Sir, I don’t mind stealing your grandfather’s Gold Medal he won at the 1912 Olympics but you absolutely must see this Peanuts ‘cyclopedia set. Doesn’t Pig Pen look nice promoting Vatican City?”

“Oh, brother, I should have known.”

 

Marty points Magnum at his boss at WDIG as retaliation for the other day.

“Go ahead. Make my day.”

June 18, 2018

Taking It Out On Madison

Filed under: Gil Thorp, Madison Time, Marjie Ducey, metapost — nedryerson @ 6:10 am

061818

Don’t you just love it when the first panel on Monday morning basically repeats the the narrative of the last panel on Saturday? It’s okay. There’s lots of weekend in between, we’ve got plenty of space to tell the story and we need another gorgeous Pelwecki close-up. Those flowing locks, those Sharpied eyebrows, that generic blandness. It’s a gift, really.

Now that we’ve established Kevin’s propensity for asking a stupid question, it’s time for Gil to shine with a snappy answer (shout out to Mad magazine).

Kevin, your limited skill set has very low market value. If you can perform at a high level in other ways, I’ve yet to see it. Also, you’re just wandering around in school in a baseball uniform and that seems like a red flag. Madison? Oh yeah, it’s almost Madison time!

What was I just saying about how much space we have to tell this story? Sorry, no room for any actual Madison time*. Just time for a post game wrap up with Marjie. Do we know Marjie’s height? If Kevin is barely taller than Marjie and she’s anything under six feet, there’s yet another knock on Pelwecki’s recruiting appeal.

*On TWIM, there’s always room for Madison time. Also, in yet another attempt to show that we care just a little bit, I created a Madison Time tag and applied it retrospectively.

Wham!
 

 

January 30, 2017

Milford Falls

Filed under: actual action, basketball, Madison Time, Prairie Style Windows — nedryerson @ 4:25 am

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I’m returning from a week away and just caught up on all the action. Ken and Mike, boy detectives, went to the Kwik E Mart and Mrs. Aagard is dragging ass, or something like that, right?

So, it is Madison time* and Aagard is on the court for the final seconds. Coach Thorp wants the ball in Aaron’s hands. Why? Your guess is as good as mine. This must be part of Gil’s inquiry into the Aagard conundrum. The buzzer sounds. Another loss for the record book. Does Gil need to talk to Aaron again? He’s gonna be tuckered out before winter is over.

*Sure, it’s over, but how could I resist? This one has no helpful narrator to tell you what to do, but you all know the moves by now, right?

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