Breakfast At Mimi’s

Since Mimi has trashed the girls basketball season, I can’t think of a better alternative, as long as you’re gonna keep the natives restless without high school basketball, girls, non-existent, boys, on life support, than to open up your own upscale eatery. Let’s quit wasting time here eating chicken wings at Barney Rubble’s joint or crab legs at Richie the C’s place (complete with Richie the C on DJ, who promises he won’t bomb out-“And this is Richie the C on WDIG, poundin’ out all your favorite hits!!!!!!!! Next we got Danny and the Juniors with “At The Hop” but first Marty the Moon will be giving the latest update on R/Booby the Hitchhiker’s whereabouts!!!!!!!!!!”) . Why put on that leisure jacket you received as a throw-in if you promised to buy the seersucker suit in Mudlark colors (“Coach, I’m tellin’ ya, this’ll intimidate the refs-want that charging call in the 4th? Wear it. Let me do another alteration so your butt doesn’t stick out when you’re kneeling.”) at Milford Men’s Wearhouse if you weren’t going to go chic talking to a snake? Might as well hit The Bucket in your pajamas. Keep the fellowship fresh with Judas by keeping the table well-stocked with Mimi’s Restaurant Chips Key Lime, Melba toast crackers and brie, plus a white wine, especially selected from Milford Valley Vineyards, Mimi’s Special Edition, Straight From the Pick-up To Your Glass, Fermented To Quittin’ Time. As long as we’re going nowhere in basketball and I wouldn’t be surprised to see tomorrow 3 more panels of issues totally ungermane to basketball, the topic of discussion perhaps The Milford Hatchery was full of dead trout because someone forgot to pour the chlorine in the water, then why not go nowhere at Mimi’s?

 

Moon River

Wasting all our time

Talkin’ ’bout some slime

Who left

 

Two guys talkin’

And partly balkin’

Wherever Boob’s going

He went the wrong way

 

Gang, I can’t think of a more appropriate movie right now to bash the present circumstances than “Breakfast at Tiffany’s”. Basically Audrey Hepburn’s breakout role with a great team working behind her. George Axelrod, who also masterminded “The Manchurian Candidate”, as screenwriter, the well-respected Blake Edwards as director, the novel written by the ever-shrewd genius, Truman Capote, and an all-star cast of George Peppard, Buddy Ebsen, Mickey Rooney and Patricia Neal. BTW, it won 2 Academy Awards, one for Best Original Score (Henry Mancini, the venerable composer having much to do with that) and the other for Best Song, “Moon River”.

The movie itself could be, at times, a bringer-downer. After all, we WERE dealing with the struggles of Holly Golightly, accompanied by that recurring bouncy music with an eerie twist throughout the movie. Isn’t that what’s going on here? The difference is that Holly repented at the end of the movie and we’re still at Mimi’s in “Breakfast at Tiffany’s: The Year Holly Golightly Becomes A Teacher For Milford And Has A Room Next Door To Ms. Rizk”.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Director for Walk to Find a Cure for Suicide Turns On The Gas in his Condo!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J. Simpson-DAMN!!!!!!!!! I injured my knee again and I needed the rehab work.”

 

I mean, really. Who DIDN’T see this coming? You had to know when he was modeling for Macy’s in that jacket the other day that basketball was going in the deep freeze indefinitely. Does he always don macho man threads headin’ to the gym for 3-point defense? Noooooooooooooo, he saves that for special occasions like conversing with the one guy he wouldn’t touch with a 10-foot pole. Yup, always nice to look your best when headin’ to the snake pit. I always put on Faberge when I frequent the Milford State Park outhouse to find out about the roaches’ wife and kids.

“You look nice, Gil, in that seersucker. Where ya headed?”

“Oh, Marty and Peaches are stuck in their cabin at Mudlark Lake Resort again so I gotta turn the hose on ’em.”

“I understand he brought a hooker cuz Peaches wasn’t enough.”

“Shit, I forgot about that. I’ll need a fire hose for that Oreo sandwich. What’s the number of Milford FD?”

 

So let’s move on and work a little more on this concept. If he just puts on his jacket, assume for arguments sake that he is going to Milford 7-11 for a couple of stale long johns, a foot-long Slim Jim, and a cup of coffee, black naturally. When did you ever see the Marlboro Man dump Nutrasweet in his Sanka? This whole escapade smacks a bit of binge-eating but Gil’s stuck to his Weight Watcher’s plan for 60 years. He and Eisenhower were sharing the same scale weighing the chicken broth. And I admire a man who spurned all the Twinkies and Ho Ho’s.

“Ike, you looked uncomfortable talking to Acheson today? Too many Zingers with your Chicken Cordon Bleu?”

“Yeah, I wish Mamie would quit stuffing them in my coat. Hard for me to sit still talking to Mao. And don’t even bring in Nixon when I’m full of Entemann’s.”

 

NOW if he meets Marty Moon without putting on a coat and tie, then, given their relationship, they really ought to meet at the Milford Nudist Colony. You laugh but there’s more of a chance of basketball showing up there than what we’re seeing in front of us now. As long as they’re uncomfortable with each other, why not carry it to the nth degree? And really, we could have a 3-on-3 basketball tournament, Gil the director of the Tournament, Marty with the play-by-play, and anyone caught wearing Hanes is disqualified. Gotta keep it honest.

“Gil, no WONDER why you’ve got a lifetime membership at Milford Men’s Clinic.”

“What’s your point, Moon? Speak now or forever hold your mike.”

“At least I have something to hold.”

 

OKAY!!!!!!! It’s settled. When Gil puts on his formal attire AND speaks with Marty Moon, they are not there at Mimi’s to negotiate their respective baseball card collection. If you can trade a Willie Mays for a Bob Horner in your Birthday Suit, great, but otherwise, Gil and Marty are patiently waiting for the Filet Mignon Flambe avec Pommes de Terre Dans l’Immersion de l’Huile Cuisson sauteed in Beurre Plus Refinee et Cerises Frais et Creme while discussing the Cubs pitching this year (Robmize, don’t hate on me.) . Mimi is still learning the language.

 

Moon River

Wasting all our time

Talkin’ ’bout some slime

Who left

 

Two guys talkin’

And partly balkin’

Wherever Boob’s going

He went the wrong way

 

Moon River

This plot is oh so bad

Definitively sad

God knows

 

I’d pay a schmo 10 grand

To ram this swill

In a huckleberry tree

Waitin’ to be free

Moon River and me

 

And what in the name of Outdoor advertising is behind Mickey Dolenz? Nice of him to show up at Mimi’s with a Kinks mop but the focus is on Mrs. Hulk with her soon-to-be-nominated-for-the-Freak-Hands-Hall-of-Fame mitts. I can’t imagine any other reason than she is talking on her cell phone, not too many people look that cheery scratching the skin off their face because they forgot their Clearasil or the Wizard of Id afflicted her with psoriasis because she said his wife had boobs like pumpkins.

“Mimi, I don’t mean to complain about the turtle soup but do you have any Roach-pruf behind the counter?”

ZZZZZAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPPPPP

Ribbit, ribbit

 

“…Holly Golightly eating stale French bread with mold on it with spaghetti made out of Nike shoe strings because the front man forgot to order Contadina noodles?”

“Gil, I think you better go meet Marty at The Bucket. You’re ruining business.”

 

So then we go to P2 where Gil really hams up his role, even if his point is well-taken. Then again, why go the Sharp-Dressed Man route when you knew who you were going to speak with? ZZ Top didn’t make the video so you could look like a stud with those 3 women who keep appearing and disappearing talking to Napoleon. Especially when he lost half of Russia and is about to approach Waterloo in another day. Gil, the rest of us dress semi-formal to be with our friends, not emphasize a point with both your hands as if you’re performing the Charleston sitting down, waiting for your Cerdo Ensalada y Frijoles, to Ivan Boesky. You don’t notice the 3 women not anywhere around? No, they’re not in the kitchen with Mimi preparing the children’s menu (“…no, just put one can of Spoaghetti O’s in the Fred Flintstones Chicken Pot Pie Surprise…”) . They only shake and bake when you look studly AND have some decency. You are the company you keep, Coach Thorp. Right now, your company is twisting your logic tighter than the pretzels on Mimi’s buffet table.

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry goes to Betty White. I have ALWAYS loved her humor. Many comedians and comediennes emote to get laughs. Not Betty. She is pretty damn funny. Her career has spanned 80 years and still going strong at 97 years old(!). She has won 8 Emmy awards, 3 Comedy awards, 3 Screen Actors Guild awards and a Grammy. She was producing shows in a male-dominated field and did it with such aplomb that you knew entertainment was a calling for her. You factor in the comedy shows she was in, “The Mary Tyler Moore Show”, “Golden Girls”, and “Hot-in Cleveland”, and the fact that they have been considered in the Top 100 of a lot of comedy lists and it’s easy to see why I respect her craft. Please join me in saluting someone who has made a difference in the world of comedy and television in general.

 

Moon River

Constipated tale

Basketball has failed

Blown dunk

 

We need relief from death

We lost ground

Bored until we’re brown

Huckleberry Hound

Moves faster than this

 

And then there’s the North by Northwest shot. If you’re eating dinner, such as Mimi’s Chicken and Dumplings marinaded in French Onion Soup, you might not want to scope to intently in P3. Some of you have stomachs stronger than Kaz pumpin’ iron at the gym but the rest of us better go back and see if Mrs. Hulk can maneuver her spoon dishing up Mimi’s hand-scooped French Silk Ice Cream.

 

Gang, go to it. We are getting a reenactment today of what happened when America negotiated with Stalin at Yalta. We at least kept West Berlin. Watch your back side walking out of Mimi’s, Gil. The knives are still on the table and you weren’t talking with Golightly about her day today.

 

“Gil, where are you going in your Birthday Suit?”

“Sorry, Dr. Pearl, we blew a late lead last game. Gonna shore up on the free throws. Where are you going?”

“I heard the Milford Nudist Colony was holding a yard sale. I need a table lamp for my office.”

 

“…Huckleberry friend

Moon, Gilbert, and meeeeeeeeeee.”

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Just Who Owes Who?

Hey kids, guess what? I stumbled across some rare footage of Gil and Marty commuting to and from work! Here ’tis:

That would seem to be the dynamic at work here, but I suspect Gil doesn’t see it as so two-sided.  Since he is clearly of the opinion that he singlehandedly pulled Marty’s frijoles from the fire last basketball season, he likely believes he doesn’t owe Marty squat. That said he does recognize the need for Marty in his world, and acknowledged as much to WDIG’s station manager in a previous Kaffeeklatsch.

Still I imagine we’ll soon be treated to some version of “no, you still owe me, and B/Robby would’ve found a way to hang himself by his own rope with or without you.” Then it’s time to see how Mike Fillion self-medicated came out of his depression enough in time for baseball season.

metapost: Since tdrew and I swapped Wednesday and Thursday posts a while back, I’ve missed out on Rock ‘n Roll Thursdays. I want to interject a bit and light a candle for Sara Romweber, who lost her battle with cancer a few days ago. Sara laid down the beats for Mitch Easter’s jangle-pop in Let’s Active, and later formed Snatches of Pink and teamed up with her brother Dexter, previously with Flat Duo Jets, as a duo of their own. The Romweber kids played a part in the formative years of my musical tastes, and Sara’s passing comes as a reminder of my own mortality. So here, then, a musical candle.

Will Milford And The NBA Be Contending For Basketball Ratings In June? Stay Tuned.

HEY BOY. YOU’RE LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE IN THEM THERE GYM SHORTS. DON’T LOOK LIKE YA GOT ‘EM OUTTA THE LOST AND FOUND. NICE AND SOFT AND FLUFFY. USED PLENTY OF CLING-FREE, I CAN TELL. LIKE THE WAY THEY MOVE WHEN YOUSE ON A 3-ON-2 DRILL IN GYM. AND THAT JOCK STRAP BOUNCES UP AND DOWN LIKE MIMI’S BOOBS. BOY, GET YORE ASS OVER HERE AND F-

 

Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Filion, you okay?”

Filion wakes up. He’s been napping on his English Comp 203 book report, “Milford Horticulture at the Fin de Siecle”. He spots Gil at the desk up front, groggily remembering that Gil is supervising study hall.

“Uh, I’m fine.”

“Fair enough.”

Then Filion thinks twice.

“Coach, can I put my gym clothes in my hallway locker? I forgot I have to wash them this weekend.”

“We have washing machines.”

“I know, but my girlfriend got her toenail polish all over my gym shorts and my mom has some extra-strength Oxydol. It’ll help whiten my jock strap which got grass stains all over it.”

“How did you get grass stains on your jock strap?”

“I guess I got carried away during suicide drills.”

“Filion, we practice inside.”

Before Filion can answer, Gil stands up and bends over

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Filion, I was just picking up a paper airplane and throwing it in the garbage. Sure you’re OK?”

 

Gang, I’m going to the vaults again (bear with me while I’m on my soapbox) because Bobby is getting a royal smack-down and only a “Hit the road, Jack, and doncha come back no more, no more…” was necessary. Just hand him his luggage, give him a one-way ticket on the 2:30 ‘Hound out of the Milford Greyhound station and he’s a ghost of the past. Noooooooooo, we gotta drag this on 3 more panels with NO LIGHT at the end of the tunnel, let alone a basketball on the horizon. (Some flunky from the Nina “Cristafero, Cristafero, tierra!!!!!! tierra!!!!!!!!! Yo veo un basquetbol!!!!!!!!! Parace como un Spalding!!!!!!! Y los inhabitantes pueden Slam Dunk!!!!!!!”) While we’re admiring the crew of the Nina, Pinta, and the Santa Maria’s newly-found treasure (Wilson Basketballs are a premium in the Caribbean) , any of you old-timers remember the days of Berrill when some clown like Booby would get his justice in the 2nd panel then the 3rd panel was almost always an abrubt change of direction, more than likely baseball (“Think our pitching will hold, Gil?” “Depends, Tod” as beaucoup players are seen playing pitch-and-catch, pepper, make it, take it, square-dancing, playing Monopoly, Checkers, Twister, Charades, Uno, etc., all 402 players seen on the field at one time “If they don’t separate their shoulder from playing into July, we ougtha make the Playdowns. And I need Booby back to wash the uniforms or we’re gonna stink our way onto the Disabled List. Can he sneak through Rex Morgan over to Milford? Hell, me and Dr. Morgan look alike anyway, we both go to the same barber,  Booby can just say he’s studying to be a nurse under the doc’s tutelage until this thing blows over.”) . And it was just about ALWAYS headed with a “Meanwhile”.

Oh, not today. “Meanwhile” went the way of Booby’s billboards. You might see either back but the times, they are a-changin’. And I mean ta tell ya, Booby is getting the Jesus Christ Superstar treatment. Spit on, carrying his own cross while singing JUDAS’s song “Damned for All Time”, thank Heaven ‘Dig had the decency to let Judas hang from his own tree, otherwise

Soooooooooo long, Booby

Gooooooood ol’ Booby

 

So Booby was spared the eerie chorus singing Judas’ death knell even though in order to get his ‘Hound ticket, he still had to get 39 lashes AND permanent removal. THAT sucks. Of course, I wouldn’t be comin’ back in the studio with those kind of scars on me anyway. And still find out that Marty is still King of the Broadcasting Hill? Won’t go through Double Jeopardy with a 2nd crucifixion. Those Greyhound busses aren’t very comfy when your back looks like Chinese Checkers. And did you see Booby’s hands? DIE IF YOU WANT TO, YOU MISGUIDED PUPPET. That’s tellin’ ’em, Mr. Station Manager.

 

 

Big shout-out to Carol Kassady of New Albany, Indiana. She goes to work at Kroger with a vengeance because she loves her job. As a bagger, she is well-thought of as management and the customers like her courtesy domplete with a big smile on her face. Now that’s service. She also helps the store in other areas, keeping the grocery aisles well-stocked. No wonder why she’s busy. She just gets it done no matter where she’s at. Gang, the next time you’re inthe store on Chrlestown Road, treat her with respect. She’s earned mine.

 

 

 

 

 

HEY BOY. I LIKE THEM DOCKERS YOU GOT ON. THEY MATCH THE PRAIRIE-STYLE WINDOWS IN THE ROOM. AND YOU’RE A SMART COOKIE. YA BLOWED YORE ACT OUTTA THE WATER. YORE HARVARD, BOY. AND AFTER I GET DONE WITH YOUR FILE, I WANT YOU TO F-

Nooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“Mike, are you Okay? Don’t you want to know what your SAT score was? Looks good from here. 672, verbal, and 602, math. And a couple of good schools have expressed interest based upon those scores. They’re down in this bottom drawer.”

Dr. Pearl bends down to the next-to-bottom drawer.

“Uh, if it’s okay, just call me later at home. My bus just pulled up.”

“Mike, the busses aren’t due for another hour. What’s wrong?”

“Who said anything about a school bus? There’s a Greyhound by the cafeteria entrance.”

 

How many faces does the Station Manager HAVE??????? He went from Chet Huntley the other day to an offbeat Dan Rather today. Does he always display a Chinese Mr. McGoo when he’s pretending to be Matt Dillon?

“Okay, Miss Kitty, that was a rotten thing you said about Jesse James, now it’s time you head out of Dodge by high noon tomorrow. Jesse can’t help it if he twitches when he’s holding up the Dodge City Bank. He gets a nervous tic every time someone reaches for his holster. Thank God the bank manager knew the combination to the safe.”

And as long as we’re going to endure another moratorium on basketball, oh, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, Thorpiverse, we get it, Mr. Station Manager a/k/a “Matt Dillon after he underwent a facelift at Milford Surgical Group” is talking about DON Rickles. I thought Gil Rickles was a bit out of place and Mimi is a female (Mimi Rickles?) and I could go through the Milford phone book and verify that we’re not discussing someone else but after viewing Jose Rickles, Vladimir Rickles, Ed Rickles, Mario de los Santos de nuestro Senor en El Cielo y Las Estrellas Rickles, I think I better stick with DON Rickles.

And anyone who knows or remembers him knows he gets his humor off of insulting people. He’s not my favorite comedian but I like his style nonetheless so I will therefore implement what I THINK Station Manager Dillon is getting at when he compares Booby with DON Rickles (ambitious though it may be)

“So, where do you see yourself a few years from now?”

“Look!!!!!!!! You hockey puck, can’t you shave any better than that? I have no idea where I might be but I won’t be lookin’ like a beatnik at 60!!!!!!!!!!! You? King in THIS town? What are you, MAYOR???? This town has more cows than basketballs, Mayor!!!!!!!! And who’s the schmuck that cuts Gil’s hair???? Does he always use a roller pin?????? And I saw the Play-Doh in the Station Managers office by his gin and tonic. The schmo mixes good stuff but he mixes his face too. Bad combo, you hockey puck!!!!!!!!!!! Does he date Mrs. Potato Head????? Are they going to enjoy Chili Fries at The Bucket?????? Boy, talk about eating with a cannibal. Tell Rubber Face not to put on after shave!!!!!!!!!!! How much time do I have left???? A minute!!!!!!!!!! Heck with it, I’m through with this town, there’s nothing to do, not even a basketball court to play on, you hockey puck…”

Just want to make sure Rubber Band Man a/k/a Station Manager is talking about the right guy. Elmer Fudd Rickles is the only other choice in the phone book.

 

 

HEY BOY!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE IN THOSE LENSCRAFTERS, 4 EYES!!!!!!!!!! I LIKE THE WAY YA TRASH THE TOWN, CLOWN!!!!!!!!!! GIVES ME A BONER, BOZO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M HORNIER THAN THE WOMEN AT BARNEY’S BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M HOTTER THAN A PEPPERONI FRESH OUTTA THE OVEN AT THE BUCKET!!!!!!!!!!! YOUR WATER BOTTLE AIN’T GONNA PUT OUT THIS FLAME, BOY!!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE TRAPPED IN THE STUDIO, SO YA MIGHT AS WELL F-

MOON!!!!!!!!!! Pull up your pants and fix the problem or YOUR ass is mine for another 2 weeks!!!!!!!!!!! You’re on in 30 seconds!!!!!!!! That loser left 15 minutes ago!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Yes, Boss.”

 

 

A big shout-out goes to Missy Nall as she rolled a spare and a strike at the bowling alley today. it was COLD today, gang, so getting out and about was an accomplishment in itself, much less doing well in bowling to boot. She was great to talk to today and I could tell she loved talking about her game. I’d call that pride, folks. America needs more of that. When you want to succeed as badly as you want to breathe, you will succeed and Missy proves that. She’s got my respect, gang. America salutes you, Missy.

 

 

 

And what the Hell is worth making basketball a possible sacrificial lamb for another few panels that Gil has to put on his jacket and head to God-knows-where for discussion on the Booby thing? Round 2 at Barney’s? Or are we gonna get slushy here and cry about Booby’s departure over several Michelobs??????? I don’t think The Bucket is really a wise venue but it’s their cash they’re toting in their wallets. Just seems talking about Booby in relation to ANYTHING next to a booth with a zit-faced 16-year-old chowing down on his Bucket Double Decker Cheeseburger is asking for trouble. Talk about “Silence is seldom misquoted.”

And what’s the point? The dude shoehorned his foot in his mouth and Rockville is mad as hornets right now and who can blame them????? If they DO go to The Bucket, just don’t announce it on WDIG. Rockville will be waiting in the corner booth, if not in the parking lot. Face it, Booby is toast, finished, kaput, outta here. Can’t set bail on this one, if that’s the intention and I wouldn’t put it past them, given the travesty of lack of basketball. You’re on a roll, Thorpiverse, stay on a roll.

 

“Meet me behind the alley at The Bucket. I got some info on Booby’s whereabouts.”

“Great. What about basketball?”

“Might take a little longer. Depends on when the NBA schedules the Quarterfinals.”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry goes to Carol Burnett. I have long loved her comedy and my sister just dotes on her. I can see why. Told she was taking a chance to start up a comedy/variety show back in the ’60’s as only men at that point had been successful inthat field, Burnett just did nothing but make ’em laugh as her show for several years racked up the Emmys, among other awards. She would have a question-and-answer time before the show, a way to show she still had her feet on the ground and the fans everywhere enthusiastically applauded the move. She was also a very talented actress, acting in “Pete and Tillie”, “Friendly Fire, “Annie”, getting nominted for Best Actress by Golden Globe Awards. She would always twitch her ear at the end of the show to remember her grandmother who egged her on for years and died during the show’s run. Also a very talented singer, ppease join me in saluting a woman who showed you could break the mold and be funny at the same time. You keep me in stitches, Carol Burnett.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you live a non-stop, work off the set of your pants, sex-crazed, take the kids to soccer practice on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, turn those reports in tomorrow, Golf, hoping you beat Alice Cooper this one time, go-go lifestyle like I do? Is it sometimes hard to smell the roses so you just stick some incense in your car’s ash tray, light it with your Zippo, and just forget it? And what about that St. Patrick’s Day party comin’ up? Gonna skip shopping night cuz Jimmy Swaggart came into town for a one-night-only Holy Ghost, No Tiptoe Through The Tulips Religious Wimps Allowed, Talkin’-in-Tongues, Filled With The Holy Spirit, Baptism-by-Fire, Hell Fire ‘n’ Brimstone, Miracle Revival, Free Parking Included at the Milford Tabernacle?

Milford Beverage Warehouse is here to the rescue. Hi, this is Coach Thorp. Why do I need to go to the altar and have someone ram 10-15 hands on my head and I get a migraine when I can get truly blessed with my favorite brew? And I don’t need a Holy Joe tract for that one. What’s even nicer is that, through cooperation with Lyft and Uber, I can get up to a case of suds delivered right to my door step. Just call and have your order ready and be there at the time you specify and your order is there before you know it. Yeah, don’t take a quick leak or your kid might have to sign the papers. You might get stuck with a Jim Beam Coffee Tree Aged Premium Whiskey when you wanted a 24-pack of Drewery’s and 2 bags of Doritos Cool Ranch. Easier to share chips with the kids than a bottle of whiskey. My o My, a 15-pack of Miller Natural Light hits the spot when diagramming a matchup zone in the den, especially when the Domino’s driver comes at the same time with my 3 12″ Pineapple ‘n’ Pepperoni Pizzas and unleavened Breadsticks. Only bagels and lox go better with a Natural Lite. The Warehouse also accepts Visa and Mastercard. Good thing to know when you get cleaned out of finances because you got carried away grocery shopping at Wal-Mart. Believe me, Yours Truly is guilty of buying 10 Banquet Meat Loaf and Macaroni Dinners when he was only gonna buy 1, they were so damn cheap. And Mimi sometimes forgets to stay within the budget when she goes down the cereal aisle. We have more Life and Cocoa Puffs in the garage than booze, that’s for sure. And when Poker night extends until midnight, past the ante limit of $1000? Thank God my plastic is in the line of duty or in my wallet in my back pocket, whichever you prefer. Sorry, American Express is Booby right now, both totally unacceptable.

And they deliver everything under the warehouse. Yup, if you have a teetoteler at the party, they will deliver that gallon of Milford Dairies 2% Milk along with the 3 24 packs of Corona Extra, Seagram’s Escapes in the 12-pack mini-bottles, and 2 750 ml bottles of Old Kentucky Tavern, complete with chaser, compliments of Deer Park in the 2 liter bottles. Plenty of room in the trunk. And if you’re thinking of pulling off that annual bacchanalian orgy where everybody runs around the mansion butt naked with a bottle of booze in his or her hand, The Warehouse has gotcha covered. In cooperation with the Milford Transit Authority, busses will run non-stop to and from the mansion to your house. And they will deliver all the merchandise in one bus as desired. Grabbing a Smirnoff Vodka off the steps of the bus or opening the emergency door and plucking an Angry Orchard Hard Cider, man, a unique way to live The Good Life. And there’s a shuttle waiting for you after you’ve upchucked in the mansion courtyard after sipping Clos du Bois a bit too hasty.  Nice to know because once you’ve had your fill of some hog weighing 450 pounds and eating grapes and downing several ml of Korbel Summerville Park without a wine glass, you need someone to take you away from the madding crowd and home so you can punch into Milford Foundry at a respectable hour. By golly, sounds logical to me.

Folks, what are you waiting for? The friendly Lyft driver is ready to endow you with a slice of Paradise. Don’t hand the apple to your neighbor when you can take a bite yourself and not break the bank doing it. Call Milford Beverage Warehouse today. The Party is waiting to drive in your living room. Don’t be caught losing the remote.”

 

Gang, Have at it. If you see a guy hitchhiking at 3:00AM, I don’t think the Milk Man broke down in his truck. He doesn’t start deliveries for another hour.

 

HEY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE SLURPIN’ THAT SHAKE!!!!!!!!!!!! I LIKE THE WAY YOU WORK IT SLOWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND THEM BUFFALO FRIES, YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M LIKE FIDO IN HEAT EVERY TIME YOU ROLL YOUR MOUTH, ESPECIALLY WITH THAT KETCHUP ON YOUR CHIN!!!!!!!!!!!!! CAN’T WAIT FOR SOME BURGER ACTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPEAKIN’ OF MEAT, GET YO’ ASS OVER HERE AND F-

Noooooooooooooooooooooo

“What’s Filion’s problem?”

“Dunno. I just took his order and I turned around to pick up a quartere somebody dropped from the juke box and he just freaked.”

Hot Mike!

Marty really stuck it to RobbyBobby. He let RobbyBobby express his true feelings about the dump that is Milford and all eight phone lines lit up as WDIG’s audience went “nuclear”. Sigh.

Milford is a unique place. They have a commercial radio station that appears to be devoted exclusively to local high school sports. There is a devoted audience of said radio station who seem to enjoy Marty Moon’s daily broadcasts which frequently call Gil Thorp’s athletics program into question. The audience does not take kindly to the town of Milford itself being criticized, however.

You simply can’t analyze the actions of WDIG management using principles that exist in the “real world” of media. If you do so, you quickly find yourself asking how this station manager keeps his job if when he clearly prefers Marty Moon’s predictably mediocre following to the white heat generated by RobbyBobby’s anti-Milford tirade. It would seem we clearly have a WKRP scenario where WDIG’s station manager is the son of the station’s owner and WDIG is part of a larger portfolio of business and as such is expected to operate at a loss.

Bad Moon Rising

When I was in college I was talking to one of my dormmates about Harry Caray and Steve Stone of the Cubs broadcasts. He said he was watching a game where Harry made some off-hand remark during what Stone thought was a commercial break and Stone said -” Harry, you’re full of shit.”  not knowing they were still on the air.  My friend embellished it by paraphrasing Stone immediately saying – “..   Oops we’re on the air!! ”

I guess dopey Robby Howry is too dense to figure out that in a freakin’ radio studio he MAY be on the air with his remarks. Hey, I’m sure all of them are true and needed to be said one of these days but leave it to ol’ Marty to put Howry down a peg, and re-establish himself as the WDIG front-runner for top radio DJ. I have no idea what the bonus is, and will leave it to the commentors to figure that out.

metapost: teenchy here, dropping the March 1 panel on top of Rob’s March 2. Consider this a twofer. Never let it be said that Marty Moon can’t learn: having had his Lonesome Rhodes moment at the hands of the Milford Pirate Network, he hands B/Robby one of his own.

 

Will “The Hand” Of Fate Cost Marty’s Job?

You whippersnappers are WAY too young to remember but do you old-timers remember, if you watched Dark Shadows, The Hand? Remember how scary that thing was as it spread its venom in different scenes, from choking a victim to scaring the shit out of someone in a room, maybe studying, maybe knitting, suddenly this appendage appears out of the blue???? Really,I could be at The Bucket in a booth, downing my 6th Livercheeseburger and Liver ‘n’ Spam Fries, washing it down with a Fresca when The Hand comes out of the men’s room. I hope he had a hell of a piss, to quote Brad Hamilton from “Fast Times at Ridgemont High”. Still in shock as I wonder how it’s floating around, I swallow it. After all, if it’s hungry, there’s plenty on the menu. Try the Bucket Wisconsin Buttery Burger, Hand. Frightening the teenagers and causing them to crash to their deaths in their hot rods off the Mudlark Cliffs works up an appetite. Just don’t wear a cheesehead garment. Dark Shadows was SCARY but never asinine. Unlike some unnamed plots we know.

That off my chest, when I saw Marty attached to The Hand in P2, well ya know I got some inspiration. Plus, it was either that or Grandpa Jones’ Uncensored Hee Haw Humor. I flipped a coin.

 

And this is getting downright insulting. Anymore, the only time we EVER learn about Milford’s fate in basketball is through 2 guys determined to sink each other’s battleship. Are we going to find out about Milford’s score with Jefferson in “Life in These United States” in Reader’s Digest? Sure, the plot’s a joke but let’s not carry things to extremes(“…and my husband replied, ‘I’ve always used a clipboard when I coach. What do I need a Bounty towel for?'”) .  And if I browse through the pages of Popular Mechanics, it’s expected I don’t catch the line on Milford and Ansonia next to all the sockets the carpenters are using for the addition on Dr. Pearl’s house.

Bonus point: Maybe I’m going blind but in P1, I’m pretty sure Booby possesses a butt while Marty pursued the papier-mache route. Put it this way, The Hand is more than likely to give a pat on the fanny to which one? C’mon, this isn’t a Lady-or-the-Tiger question.

“P-13”

“SHIT!!!!!!!! That spells thorp. My Evinrude’s in Davy Jones’ Locker.”

Oh, I guess the consolation prize Pat and Vanna are giving us is a Netflix video, “Battle of the Sponges”, a 45-minute docu-drama of two sponges trying to sink each other in the bathtub, neither one succeeding, just floating around for days with the Rubber Ducky. Thank God, it’s 45 minutes. It was not for them to question why but simply do or die with their rubber ducky and their swords. So that’s how the Norman Conquest got to be a conquest. They beat back the Seljuk Turks with their rubber duckys. Deus lo vole. I’d go to  Vatican City and enlist for Pope Leo VI. Charge of the Light Brigade and Marty keeping his job. And you thought the Crimea was involved.

“Mimi, The Hand has me in its grip!!!!!!!!! I can’t breathe!!!!!!!! Quick!!!!!!! Get a fly-swatter!!!!!!!!! Or get some Roach Motel!!!!!!!! Or a broom!!!!!!!!!  Wait, my Colt .45 is in the spare closet under my baseball card collection!!!!!!!!!! And it’s registered!!!!!!!!!!!! Got it legal at Milford God, Guns, & Guts!!!!!!!!!! Take the safety off!!!!!! Hurry!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Barnabas Collins to Victoria Winters

“I knew some people were calling for Gil’s head after Collinsport High blew the lead with Tilden but The Hand needs to kick the cat next time. Or choke it.”

“…and the one cornstalk says to the other cornstalk, ‘Will you bend over and let me have my way with you?????’ The other cornstalk replies ‘Who do you think I am, Rindercella?”

The audience at the Milford Comedy Club are still watching the Netflix video, “Godzilla versus Barnabas.”

BRRRRRRRRIIIIIIINNNNGGGGGGGGG

“Hello?”

“Grandpa, Gil. Tell Archie Campbell the joke bombed. So what do I do now?”

 

P2 only gets worse. If you were playing “Battleship” with your neighbor in P1, you might have 4 pegs on your ship with one peg to work with, but in P2,

THE DAMN THING’S A LUSITANIA

 

Okay, you smartasses, I agree, Marty’s hand also looks like Lurch’s. They must have been from the same lineage. And go ahead, say that Marty always wears Playtex Gloves when he’s on the air because he feels so sexy when interviewing sports celebrities, plus he doesn’t want to catch any germs. That’s right, Moon, when Sparky Anderson comes in with a Nacho and Velveeta Supreme when discussing the ’75 Reds, it’s important to be sterilized  when debating whether Ed Armbrister actually interfered at home plate.

Now that the pinpricks are satisfied, isn’t it interesting that Marty is establishing, RIGHT OFF THE BAT, who’s Jack Benny and who’s Rochester in P2? Is there a message here? You decide.

“Ummmmm, Rochester, I need a bottled water before I go on the air.”

“Yassir, Mister Benny, Bimeby, wouldja want me ta squirt sum lemon jooce in da concoction?”

“Naw, I start passing gas in the middle of the broadcast and I don’t like running off the sound engineer.”

“Okay by me, uh huh. How’ bout I serve it wid de pizza ya ate wid Peaches when her oven conked out?”

“Is that pepperoni and wild onion STILL in the fridge?”

“Yas Suh, Mr. Benny, next ta da Raspberies ‘n’ Cream.”

“Hell, throw it out. I don’t want to delouse dessert.”

“Yas Suh, Mr. Benny. Anyting you say.”

 

I have celebrated Black History Month for YEARS because I have ALWAYS admired people who choose to do the right thing against incredible odds and bigotry. One of my favorite movie lines comes from “He Got Game” when Jake Shuttlesworth says “Best get that hate out of your system or you’ll wind up in the gutter.” I agree. The people I’ve salute chose to do just that.

That said, P2 brought us back to the Feudal Days. And this time, Booby better keep his mule if he wants a way back home or go out and check out the handiwork of his billboards.

GIL THORP SHOULD QUIT COACHING AND SHINE SHOES

“Okay, Bessie, get along now. Let’s go home and don’t trip over the Bud cans.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Howry: I Want Luhm’s Job.”

sub headline

“The toilets weren’t even touched after the Holiday Tournament.”

 

“Peaches!!!!!! The Hand has got me!!!!! Quick!!!!!!!! Get the whip in my bedroom!!!!!!! It’s in the Milford Adult Shoppe tote bag!!!!!!!!! You’ll have to rip the plastic off!!!!!!!! Okay!!!!!!! Okay!!!!!!!! (choke) Booby can have my job!!!!!!!!! Just let me fill in when the Harlem Globetrotters come to Milford!!!!!!!! And I always wanted to get into Commercial Real Estate anyway!!!!!!!!!”

And it’s pretty sad how I spent pages upon pages reading the hilarity that was Mark Twain’s Puddn’head Wilson, only to see it condensed to a single panel in P2. The Battle of the Titans reduced to Babe Ruth and the bat boy. Geez, no wonder why the Cubs lost the Series in ’32. Babe could call The Shot because he had a go-fer with a bat ready to rock so Babe could make history. The bat boys for the Cubs were partying on top of one of the sun decks on Waveland Avenue. One of ’em, incidentally, had to have caught Babe’s ball. They already had several of Dave Kingman’s.

Robmize, don’t kill me, I’m leavin’ Wrigley quietly(ha).

“The Hand!!!!!!! It’s got me!!!!!!!! Okay!!!!!!!! I’m sorry I suspended Marty!!!!!!!! The parrot came out of Rural King pet department anyway, next to the gerbils!!!!!!!!!!! I promise I’ll give him his back pay plus half the royalties off that interview we did with LeBron!!!!!!!!! And he can do that special with Magic!!!!!!!!! No more reading Milford Elementary School League Volleyball scores!!!!!!!!!! I’ll call (choke) Marty tomorrow (choke) OKAY tonight!!!!!!!!!! and tell I have an open checkbook and WDIG welcomes back a lost brother-”

“Honey, wake up, you were having a bad dream. I was just grabbing your hose. Honey, I think you need to go to the Clinic. Your dreams are more hardline than your powder puff.”

In P3, that is oversized shaving brush which he uses to spread Gillette Teal Gel, EPA-approved when trimming his goatee, doubling as a mike on lesser-profile or lesser-class guests, Booby fitting latter category, Marty using better-quality mikes for guests with some kind of direction in their lives. Just put a rudder on your motorboat, Booby, and go to the Milford Dale Carnegie Institute and the mikes will change. I understand there’s an opening in the early part of March at the Institute. After your interview in P3, if Marty hasn’t opened the trap door and you get devoured by a hammerhead, you should still have time.

Also, that mike could be an avocado. Just wait until the end of this expose (Where ELSE could THIS be going???) before you munch on it, Moon.

Today’s final (RELUCTANTLY speaking) Black History Month entry is Arthur Crudup. Born in Forest, Mississippi, with an enormous talent for Blues and a HUGE part of the Mississippi Blues sound, Crudup wrote and performed the song “That’s All Right, Mama”, made a big hit by Elvis Presley in the ’50’s. He also wrote and performed , songs that put the stamp on his talent and his love for Blues. What makes me angry is how his songs were promoted so heavily, yet he received little compensation for them. The foot-dragging that accompanied the back royalties he had coming is making me furious, even as I type. He did not deserve to end up as a barge worker and if you can spread the word about his talent, it would be deeply appreciated. Some justice DID come about when his name was inducted on the Mississippi Blues Trail, kinda like the Natchez Trace Road for Blues, near his birthplace. Please join me in saluting a man who didn’t deserve to die (bad heart in the early ’70’s) while fighting for what was rightfully his.

HEY BOY!!!!!!!!!!! YOU LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE IN THEM THERE JEANS!!!!!!!!!! WHY DON’T YOU F-

“What a nightmare. Hi, this is the station manager at WDIG. You can just call me Al. I wear more faces than Bowie Kuhn anyway.

There I was, in bed, with Booby and I think you might suspect we weren’t playing backgammon. I just couldn’t resist because he was so innocent and ambitious and I had a shitty wife who shopped every week at F. W. Woolworth for groceries and made my favorite dessert, key lime pie, but she burned the roast under the covers. And Booby was available.

I had resisted all advances so far, transferring my impulses to a heating blanket in my personal closet. Hey, it was warm and felt good plus I had an electrical outlet in the closet. And I locked the closet when everybody went to lunch. I was taking no chances.

Then the Milford Men’s Clinic came to the rescue and sponsored Sex Drive Renewal Retreat at Mudlark Lake Resort. My wife jumped at it like I almost jumped on Booby. Wow, you should have seen the ideas that were exchanged and taught at this Surge on Urge. One of them, my wife was this great big tarmac and I was Delta Flight 89 out of Dallas about to make an emergency landing in Denver when I was heading to Boise. Another, a gnu was drinking water from a lake in the Serengeti in Africa And I was this hyena who hadn’t eaten in 4 days, much less experienced standing in the Pleasure Dome with Booby. When the gnu bent over, I was horny and hungry, which was the idea. Ingenious of MMC, isn’t it? Prime rib and a place to lay my wood, the only thing missing was a pack of Marlboros to savor the victory even though, in truth, hyenas don’t smoke.

We were also given packets and handouts, now that you had your wife back in bed, on how to fend off the strong desires to do business with anybody but your wife. That’s right, Guys, sometimes the UPS delivery guy looks kinda cutie in his shorts but FedEx almost refused to send shipments to Marty Moon’s house over unconfirmed rumors he was winking at the Overnight Delivery guy. Fortunate that Marty got his grandfather clock from Switzerland in 24 hours with no further investigations. Marty needed to keep the bed warm for Peaches and nobody else.

Now I can interview Booby with a renewed confidence, reassured that I will be able to hire a radio personality at the wage level of a choclatier in the mines of South Africa. I don’t let my personal business interfere with the good of the company. When I zip my pants, it’s after I pissed a load in the bathroom. Maxwell House can be that way. But don’t take my word for it. If you have pedophile issues, you owe it to yourself and the kids in the audience on the Bozo Show to get help. The Milford Men’s Club can spare you needless embarrassment and make you a personality in bed. My wife seems to think I’m Jackie Gleason. Come see why today.

Comment away, gang. Gonna kick back and watch ’em eat their own. Only at WDIG studios.

“…Barnabas Collins getting the finger from The Hand??????”

Someone in the back at Milford Comedy Club shouts out “You’re worse than Willie Loomis!!!!!!!!!!!”

“The Hand!!!!!!!!! It’s got me!!!!!!! Okay!!!!!! I’ll get those 2016 Milford High School Cafeteria Lunch Money Reports filled out so they can reopen the cafeteria!!!!!!!!!! I know it’s cruel to send them to the Milford Shelter House and have nothing but Oscar Meyer Bologna and Swiss Cheese sandwiches for 3 weeks!!!!!!!!! They had Twinkies!!!!!!!! The Director ordered them last week!!!!!!!!! (choke) Okay!!!!!!!!!! I’ll get them done!!!!!!!!! And I’ll let slide Barnabas Collins enrolling in Adult Education even if he lost his Social Security card!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Thank you, Dr. Pearl. I can only show up after 7:00PM. I hope you understand. Come, Willie, and quit shooting free throws.”

I Got The Message, But I Didn’t Want It Straight From You

First off, in order to impress the readership on the conversation, loosely speaking, between SNNNNNAAAAAKKKKKEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!! and Mimi, the artistry has graced us with 2 neo-Doric columns, freshly imported from the mines of Crete. I’ll admit they add a nice decor to the pub and it’s doing its part to make things upscale. But why not have a frieze at the top, where ancient symbols are displayed to enhance the touch and ambiance of the place? We’re not in Kansas or Greece anymore, so little drawings of chariots and horses and Socrates at the Agora debating with Gil Thorpius how to run   the half-court press, (the plebians are 50-50 on this one) wouldn’t be appropriate, neither would pictographs of Toto or Dorothy’s family flying around in their Studebakers in a tornado. Therefore, why not create pictographs of Milford’s basketball team executing the isolation play, designed to remind everybody that basketball still exists and to get the center a 2-foot shot? Or some Mudlark picks a Goshen player’s pocket and he runs down the other end for the 180-I’m-Gonna-Go-Groovin’-So-Ya-Better-Get-Movin’-Cake-Bakin’-Baby-Shakin’-Rump-Rostin-Bun-Toastin-Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma’am-Glass-Breaker-I-Am Jam. Or a Reverse Dunk, that fits. I think you can fit all that as pictographs on the frieze. You might need an extra chisel but Greeks found a way to put a late entry in at the chariot races. Then there’s the architrave, the part above the frieze. Hell, twist booby’s arm or slip him a $100 bill and get him to do some more Gil-bashing. Here’s some ideas that might fit within the architrave

“Don’t drink the water here at Barney’s or from Gil’s faucet.”

“Gil’s wife is actually drinking Squoze Lemonade in this strip today.”

“How can anyone criticize Gil as a coach when basketball is on a pinball machine at Barney’s?”

Heard somewhere in Barney’s

DAMN, I TILTED. SHOULDNTA SAID GIL WEARS FEDEX SHORTS AT GAMES

“The Gilberry Pumpkin ‘n’ Cinnamon Quiche with a side order of Spinach Fries is to die for.”

“The only thing upscale about Gil and Mimi is their tax bracket.”

 

Possibilities

 

Gang, gotta call it like I see it. Today, I will be LIBERALLY spreading ZZ Top’s “Afterburner”. It just seemed to be the right fit. I think you’ll see why.

 

I’m pickin’ up a signal

That’s in the pub tonight

It’s sparkin’ conversation

And my visage flashes white

 

I got the message

But I didn’t want it straight from you.

 

And while John Doe, Model, Esq., coming in a pinch from the Milford Modeling Agency because the Jordache Girl called in, is breaking the Fourth Estate in P1, you know you just had this feeling that Marty was going to get set up by the time we reached P3. C’mon, this isn’t The Brothers Karamazov, we don’t state the premise in P1, ramble for 1000 pages about Jeremy Bentham and the Pleasure Principle, John Locke and the notion of Private Property, Milton Friedman and his stance on a Free Economy (“The Government should not interfere in the affairs of The Bucket, Boris Smolyanorinovitch, unless you see a roach out in the parking lot. Then call Orkin.”) , Martin Luther should have used a sledge hammer when nailing the 95 Theses, Hegel’s Thesis and Anti-Thesis, Rachel Ray uses chocolate chips manufactured from the sweatshops of South Africa when baking her Holiday Cookies, only to get to P1000 and Mimi finally say “Marty, you’re fly is open.”

 

I was out of work, thinkin’ ’bout basketball

Trying not to lose my mind

Drove up quickly to the agency

Lookin’ for a job to find

 

Laying in a chair

Playing with my hair

My coaching, yes, wound up in wood

 

I tried washing dishes down at Barney’s pub

I toted flowers from FTD

Cement mixer paid the cable bill

Insurance salesman, garbage fee

 

Laying in a chair

Playing with my hair

Basketball, sucks, it wound up in wood

 

We leave P1 with Marty trying to be a perfect gentleman, but don’t kid yourself, anytime SNNNNAAAAAKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEEE is trying to be Don Juan, you wind up losing your mule. Then you have no way home back to your peasant farm and you have to pay the liege for the loss of the mule. Think Marty’s gonna pay for it? Mules work that way. And both are malodorous, one just wears a goatee.

 

What do you do

When the man’s a jerk

 

The ladies eat their Heinz

And Marty shirks of work

 

Don’t pose with your mug

As if you’re Clark Gable

 

C’mon, Moon, dolt

Just look for the table

 

Planet of Women

Oh yeah

Planet of Women

Oh yeah

This plot’s gone so insane

 

Marty’s trying to flirt

But the ladies ain’t buyin’

 

Decency would help

Plus some beggin’ and cryin’

 

They’re drinkin’ like a fish

And goin’ to town

 

They’ll get their jobs later

At the Milford Dog Pound

 

Just a Planet of Women

Oh yeah

Planet of Women

Oh yeah

Driving us insane

 

Now let’s get to the heart of the matter. I think Mimi’s comment was still a bit surprising, even when we were thrown hints that Booby is after Marty’s job. Why would a greenhorn, in the true sense of the word, keep showing up in Marty’s studio week after week,  broadcasting all the news that’s fit to broadcast about Gil’s coaching, then essentially go behind Marty’s back and talk with the station manager at WDIG? Marty, are you THAT DUMB? You walk down the hallway to get some coffee in the breakroom and you see, assuming the door is open, Booby in with the head honcho, did you really think Booby was taking orders from carry-out from the Milford Pizza Hut?

“Okay, I’ve got 2 12″ Pepperoni Pan Pizzas, 3 8″ Sausage & Pepperoni Thin Crust Pizzas, 1 15″ Canadian Bacon Cheese Crust Pizza, 2 Spaghettis w/Caesar’s Apple ‘n’ Bacon Salads, I Ravioli w/Mushrooms, hold the garlic, 15 Breadsticks, 5 Cokes, 2 Diet Cokes, I Mountain Dew, and a Grape Nehi, the Tinge of Wine Special. Is that it?”

“I think that’ll cover it, Booby.”

“GREAT. So when can I start next week?”

“You said your car should be done at Milford Body Shop on Tuesday?”

 

Really, this wasn’t a matter of “if”, but “when”. Sorta like the Girls Basketball season. But we’re still waitin’ for that. Never Fear, Midnight Madness should appear by Earth Day.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Girls Basketball Plants a Tree In Front of the ‘B’ Gym to commemorate Earth Day!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Both tree and team are expected to take time to develop.”

 

Now let’s get to the heart of the matter. Mimi, NO ONE on God’s green earth EVER thought that just because Booby was making scurrilous comments on billboards or radio programs, his own or Marty’s, that we were kidding ourselves or wanted to kid ourselves that Booby would make a suitable replacement for Gil. I mean, Gil is doing minimal coaching but, damn, Booby??????? Mimi, what part of NO FREAKIN’ WAY don’t you understand? A guy who was a marginal equipment manager who was rousting people’s games because he couldn’t get out on the football field himself because he’d get knocked on his ass by the tackling dummy and in general had NO EXPERIENCE playing football or basketball is in no condition to be coaching ANYTHING in high school. And stop using Wally Cleaver’s words, you dope.

“Marty, if Gil finds out you tried to ramrod Booby past the school board to be the Mudlark Boys Golf Coach, you’re gonna get clobbered.”

And Wally wearing Mimi’s earrings? God forbid that show up on The New Leave it to Beaver

 

My mind needs Excedrin

I’m about to blow a fuse

I ate my words so empty

So shoot ’em down the loo

 

I got the message

But I didn’t want it straight from you

 

Today’s Black History Month entry was a colorful character, Darryl Dawkins, or more affectionately known as “Chocolate Thunder” (Stevie Wonder started that one) . You can see he’s had an influence on me judging by one of his quotes above. Usually, they’re not ready to jump straight from  high school to the NBA, but if there ever was a dude, it was the Thunder. His dunks were so powerful and vicious and shattered a couple of backboards in the bargain that the NBA made a rule fining and suspending anybody who rendered a backboard useless. All that said, the man had game and had a productive career in the NBA from 1975-89. He won a Ring in ’89, with the Detroit Pistons, long overdue. Please join me in saluting a man who shaped the NBA in a forceful and positive way. The Playuh earned his money.

 

P3-Exploding eyeball effect and his hot dog stand is open for business, Gang, I think a picture speaks a thousand words.

 

It’s time to get down

Do the Disco Fox Trot

Dance a Ska Charleston

At Barney’s, that’s so hot

 

Dipping low in the Lap of Luxury

 

Now if you want to have fun

Get it on until dawn

Cha Cha fast and loose with Mimi

Then she’s got to mow the lawn

 

Dipping low in the lap of luxury

 

“Dr. Pearl, I had fun doin’ the Texas Line-Dance with you. Be good exercise for my basketball team.”

 

Gang, comment away. Now that the cat’s out of the bag that was already out of the bag, I think I’ll hit Barney’s for some Egg Plant Pomme Frites. I haven’t tried them with Gulden’s yet.

 

I’ve got to make a confession

I’m on needles and pins

Workin’ on a way out

At Barneys, dump my sins

 

I got the message

But I’ll never get it straight from you.

 

In the Milford Ad Section

“This Friday night, ZZ Top appears one night only at Milford Girls-a-Go Go Club, w/ special guest, Coach Shaw and his Jazz guitar, performing “Gimme All Your Lovin'” for an electrifying 11-minute solo plus Coach Thorp will sporting a beard with the Top, sunglasses he got from Junior Achievement, backing ’em up on his Kenner guitar. As an added bonus, the Ladies from Barney’s will be performing a strip tease, accompanied by “Sharp Dressed Man”. Get your tickets at The Bucket and all Milford Kwik-ee Mart outlets. Don’t miss it!!!!!!!!!! BE THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Marty to Mimi

“Slip inside my sleeping bag”

And 1000 Other Quotes You Never Read or Hear in Gil Thorp, now out by Harcourt-Brace Publishers, in all your Borders Book Stores

Hello, Ladies

Hey, check out Mimi’s gal pal who’s throwing shade at Marty as his beer foam drips all over her. It’s a middle aged version of Velma from Scooby Doo!

*

I hope she doesn’t lose her glasses, forcing her to crawl around in the puddles of beer and ketchup on the floor of Barney’s!

So Marty needs a minute of Mimi’s time. Whatever for? Does he want to convene an impromptu focus group consisting of Mimi’s circle of friends? He could be fishing around for a new audience niche in the Milford’s media landscape. He must sense that he could be once again in danger of being replaced by younger talent in local sports talk on AM radio. Does Marty have anything to offer middle age women who like wine and chunky earrings (as a media property or just in general)?

 

 

*If you do a google image search for Velma, you get about 10% cartoon images from various Scooby Doo iterations, 20% images of that actress from Freaks & Geeks playing the cute live action Velma from the Scooby Doo movie and the other 70% is women doing totally sexed up Velma cosplay.