This Week in Milford

October 8, 2019

“…Charlie The Roh Down To The 15!!!!!! The 10!!!!! The 5!!!!! Touchdown…”

100819

You old-timers will remember the Happy Days episode, (I mean this one was OLD because the intro was “Rock Around The Clock” by Bill Haley & The Comets, not the “These days are ourrrrrrsssss, those Happy Days” opening”), where Richie Cunningham is working as an errand boy at this radio station and this hot shot DJ is in a dispute with the station manager over his pay. Eventually the DJ walks out, even after putting on a ridiculous showboating exhibition to prove he’s worth more money. The station manager, the same guy who played The Maytag Man in the Maytag commercials, yanks Richie from his sweeping job around the studio and puts him on the air. Of course, he’s stumbling at first, but then develops more confidence as he settles into the job. This eventually leads to his new identity, Richie the C. And, boy, he just goes to town with it. Had to have been there.
Therefore, as long as we’re going to get ridiculous and have Chance on crutches after snuffing out Godzilla when the Japanese film company should have sent Godzilla back in the ocean, cave, polar ice cap, the boys toilet at Milford Elementary, etc., we might as well introduce Charlie the Roh and display his bag of tricks. What have we got to lose? The plot’s stalling anyway.

“Oh nooooooooooo, Chance is defecting and heading over to Tod Andrews’ team!!!!!!!”
“Shit!!!!!!!!!!!! He’ll be stuck in that time warp like Tod was 30 years ago!!!!!!
Can you get the scriptwriter on the headset?”
“No, he took a personal day and is at The Bucket celebrating his grandkids’ birthday, Gil.”
“You don’t take a personal day on a coaching staff”
“Comic strip union rules, Coach.”
“DAMN. Where’s Charlie?????????”

In Gil’s personal water closet at his office
SHEEEEEEEWWWWWWWWWWEEEEEEEE, What did Coach have for lunch at the cafeteria??????? No wonder why there’s no roaches. That stench works better than Raid!!!!!! Oh, well, this mop oughta get rid of some of the residue in the commode-”
ROH!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET YOUR HELMET AND BE READY TO CHECK IN!!!!!!!!!!!! ON THE DOUBLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Late one night, after Grandma Macy reads Chance a bedtime story (“Rumpelstiltsken”)

“Now go to sleep. It was just a nightmare yesterday. I don’t know why Marty would be walking the streets of Milford, carrying an open casket of Dr.Pearl’s great-grandmother. I’m sure the way you describe it, she looked like a California Raisin that had suntanned too long but let’s close ours eyes and think happpy thoughts. Like when you body-slammed #53 on USWA Wrestling Saturday morning and won the Southern Tag Title from him and Freezer Thompson. Your tag partner, Jerry Lawler, bear-hugging you should send you right back to La La Land…”

Grandma Macy turns off the light

Suddenly, by the poster of Dominique Wilkins flushing on Hank Finkel in the 1987 Playoffs

BOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Ok, so Charlie the Roh and Richie the C will not have to clean out Coach Shaw’s garage. Good thing, cuz there were a lot of National Geographic’s and Penthouse’s to sort through. Charlie the Roh can concentrate on nabbing Discovery One before it heads off to Jupiter. Richie the the C can call the game whenever Marty the Moon has to take a leak behind the booth. I just hope nobody’s down below.

And Chet will enter the discussion before too long. After all, when Richie the C was bombing out because he got Coach Thorp’s hair mixed up with Waylon Jennings’ pompadour, Richie the C needed reassuring

“Ladies and gentlemen, Gil is bombing out singing ‘Luekenback, Texas. That’s WAYLON??????? Oh my goodness, I better cut to a commercial break and slash my throat. Then have a heart-to-heart talk tonight with my dad like I have for 500 episodes. You’re listening to WDIG and this is Richie the C…”

Mr. C. will be there to console Richie in his room and make sure no razor-sharp spheres will fly out of the closet.

“Honey, he’s bombing out!!!!!!!! That’s the 3rd time they’ve cut him off at the line of scrimmage!!!!!!!”
“Oh, Chet. Not to worry. Gil has the situation well in hand. Gil’s the coach, you know.”
HOT DOGS PEANUTS CRAAAAAA-CKER JACK
“Oh, Mr.Vendor, gimme a foot-long!!!!!!!!! And he’s bombing out!!!!!!!!!!!!”

If ya shoot at Dis-kuv-eree One, thinkin’ it’s a Royal Canadian Snow Goose that got sidetracked on its way to Hudson Bay and it plops in your motorboat but ya still take ‘er to the taxee-dermist anyhoo cuz ya like how it looks on yore wall in the den, mountin’ the lite bulb of Hal 9400 next ta thet jaguar ya shot with only two shells in Bolivia, ya might be a redneck.

Now that the action is hot and heavy, will somebody tell Thorpiverse that Marty Moon is not Charlie Chan incarnate? Granted, this whole damn mystery wrapped inside of an enigma is getting to bea mystery but let’s let some sunlight in Marty’s eyes. Wouldn’t want him to ruin his retinas while Charlie the Roh is rippin’ long one.

Ah, but therein lies the problem and reveals Marty’s raison d’etre. A doubting Thomas wrapped in a bitchin’ booster who draws a paycheck because he embodies 5his persona in front of a microphone. Sorta like Pat Robertson railing against Satan while pretending to be Monty Hall. Let’s Make a Deal a hybrid with The 700 Club.

“Pat, I’ll give you $500 and what’s behind Door #3 if you’ll call off the deal and give me your soul.”

Ahhhhhhhhh, I went a little off the deep end but I think you grasp the concept.

One day in Gil’s office
“Tiki, it was just a bad dream. That cafeteria pepperoni pizza has been giving everybody weird dreams. No way was Tall Man toting a casket with my wife in it out of Hooverville. And Tall Man has a restraining order from the Milford Circuit while you’re staying at the Flemings. Relax.

BOOOOOOOOOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

“Tall Man, how many times have I got to tell you to flush???? If you’re going to use my toilet, I’d appreciate it if you’d use Renuzit Raspberry. Tired of hearin’ it from Home Ec class down the hallway. And that’s the 5th roll you’ve used up!!!!!!! How many burritos did you eat at lunch??????”

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Richie The C Forced To Eat Bucket Fried Crow After Coach Kaz Gives Thumbs Down On Show!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I wouldn’t even dance to ‘Hot for Teacher and that’s my favorite song. Play it all the time during football scrimmage. Richie the C has gotten the big head.”

Okay, so you old-timers know what I’m talking about. Fonzie gave the thumbs down after Richie the C became Richie the Gil after his rising success was causing R the G to be a jerk.

But Charlie the Roh has to hit those holes if he’s ever giing to lead the Hit Parade on the dance floor at The Bucket. Nope, can’t spin “Boogie Wonderland” by Earth Wind & Fire if you can’t turn a 3-and-2 into a 70-yard sprint the way Chance does. Learn the moves of Barry Sanders, THEN be unable to fit through the janitor’s closet at The Bucket because of your enhanced ego and not even get your grandma to dance The Charleston while Eric Clapton’s “Tangled in Love” is on the turntable. First things first.

Remember when Potsie and Richie the C tried to get into this strip joint using fake ID’s? Weellllll

As Booby and Tiki step into the Milford Beverage Warehouse, nervous as Hell, the “Phantasm” theme playing mellifluosly after Hank Williams’ “Settin’ the Woods on Fire” got the Jose Cuervo buyers going in line in checkout lane #3

“You sure the Milford Printing Shoppe said they would go over with the clerk?”
“Like we just punched out of our shift at Milford Foundry.And they said the lamination was durable. They use recycled plastic from Mudlar-K-Cola 20 oz. plastic bottles.”
“Here we go. You got your Michelob Dark?”
” Yup. Got your Jack and Harley-Davidson Full-Flavored Menthols Crush-Proof 100 L-, damn, I know the Warehouse is getting desperate for new-hires and I know their Major Medical benefits package just isn’t enou-”
BOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

And if this is isn’t a set-up for the obvious. Charlie Chan virtually saying that Clark Kent should have re-entered the battle at Gettysburg because he and Daniel Sickles would have torn through Pickett’s Charge with both legs blown off while George McClellan Roh would have rested his horses. No wonder why Lincoln asked the latter “Would you tell me what this plot has done lately that has fatigued the Mudlarks or horses of ANYTHING?” Lincoln was right. Thorpiverse is an admirable engineer but it has a special talent for the stationary engine.
Chance looks pretty inert in P3.

Which affords the opportunity for Charlie the Roh to pull a Richie the C on us. That’s right, again it’s pretty obvious. Charlie the Roh will run for 2000 yards, score 30 touchdowns, then sit at the teacher’s table at the cafeteria, eat Twinkies and hamburgers and tater tots with the teachers because he thinks he’s better than his peers. The students and parents, led by The Fonz, will refuse to come to the game, won’t even dignify his arrogance with those placards written in Cyrillic (“Beat Oakwood-They’re a buncha nuts” in the Serbo-Croat cheering section, oh my) .
These last 2 panels are just expressing themselves, aren’t they?

All right, Gang. It’s all yours. I apologize, I have been on the run all day for my dad. Now I know what Chance is running, er, going through.

“Oh, Howard, he’s bombing out. Somebody needs to hold his hand and tell he’ll do better in the future. That’s no way to tell him YOU SUCK. That fan needs to pull up his britches before the Milford Police arrives.”

“Marion, Richie’s holding his own. He has the Mudlarks eating out of his hand.”

“I was talking about Coach Thorp, Howard.”

“Okay, Jaime, time to go to bed. Tomorrow, I’ll teach you how to address the ball. Turn off your tape player and go to bed.”
“Let me finish this song after I get in my Underoos, Daddy. It’s overtime.”
Gil, realizing touche when he hears it, goes to the fridge for another Schlitz

“…you be daffy and I’ll be dilly,
we’ll go have 2 bowls of chili-”

BOOOOOYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

Advertisements

October 5, 2019

Steamed Gams

gt10052019

“I was so steamed, I didn’t even feel it. Those little green pills you gave me before the game helped, too, Mr. Scott.”

Yeah, I couldn’t figure out why Chance’s grandparents were looking up either. I figured from the way his helmet was popping up Rock’em Sock’em Robots style, Chance might’ve started his transformation into The Hulk. Maybe they were transfixed by the sight of Marty Moon rising up from his crate to deliver a benediction. (Mighty nice of Marty’s mom to put a vanity mirror in there; makes it easier for Marty to shave.)

Good thing Chance sprained his ankle. Now Gil won’t make him run bleachers as punishment for retaliating for Tilden’s Bill Romanowski wannabe’s personal foul. Macy will miss next week’s game, either because his sprain won’t have healed in time or because Gil will bench him for the unsportsmanlike conduct penalty. It’ll be interesting to see the role Chance’s anger management problems play in this arc (compared to, oh say, Barry Bader’s).

Looks like Rick Scott didn’t get the memo: this season it’s not “Uh-Oh,” it’s “Rut-Roh!” – and it’s Charlie’s cue to get into the lineup and finish the drill.

 

September 11, 2019

Sealing The Deal

Filed under: actual action, football, Marty Moon — nedryerson @ 3:12 am

09112019

Chris Schuring deep to Hiawatha James…Milford takes the lead! I guess Gil couldn’t wait to see what strong armed QB Chris Schuring could do, so he gambled on the low percentage play on 3rd and 1. Schuring found Hiawatha James for a touchdown and the gamble paid off.

It seems like Hiawatha’s been around awhile, but as far as I can tell, our first look at him was just last spring when he was named catcher for the baseball team. We know he played defensive back last year. Gil named him as defensive back this year, but lo and behold, he’s making plays on both sides of the ball. I guess his name is so memorable, it seems like we’ve been seeing it for years.

So the dramatic cliffhanger today is hinging on what Charlie Roh does with the ball this time after fumbling the last time we saw him. If he coughs up another ball, will his reputation as Charlie “Ruh” Roh become legend? Will Stepdad Chet have to engineer some kind of shady school transfer because Charlie can’t show his face at Milford High anymore? Or will he succeed and get the job done, and if so, will Chet continue to bellyache because Charlie is only used for mop up?

Stay tuned sports fans.

 

 

September 5, 2019

Everybody Was Kung Fu Fumbling.

Filed under: actual action, Coach Shaw, football, Gil Thorp, Just plain sad, Marty Moon, Oakwood — tdrewhardin @ 10:55 am

090519

Ruh Roh. Me and Scooby Doo and the rest of the TWIMers are hangin’ on the edge of our seats with that one phrase I get a sick-gut feeling is going to be the anthem sung the next few months. It might attain cliche status when it is all said and done but Gil is one giant cliche, so we’re not alone. Share the banality, Man.

And where else do you start but with Marty Moon? I will faint the day Dick Vitale shows up in the WDIG booth along with Mike Patrick to perform his schtick in front of Mudlark students fresh from burning Beatle records (Just because Lennon said “We’re bigger than Coach Thorp”?) and French Revolution activities (Vive Le Football Arc!!!!!!!!!!) .

And Marty is getting off on the right foot, his CBS NCAA College Basketball Tournament Draw not quite filled out on his laptop

“And Chance Macy scampers up the middle for a gain of about 4, second and 6-hmmmm, UCLA vs. Wofford? Nah, Bruins got too much talent-Wow!!!!!! What a hit Tiki leveled on that Oak-Acorn-Triplet-Nutcase tailback!!!!!!-geez, how ’bout North Carolina and Bucknell, I dunno, look what ol’ Bucky did to Kansas in the first round one year, gotta go with my gut and predict an upse-Fleming down on the ground after being speared in the crotch, the Oak-Acorn-Triplet-Nutcase is ejected, being escorted by the Milford Police and Coach Andrews-no way, St. Olaf’s ain’t gonna touch Duke even if they are hosting the first two gam-The trainer is down on the field, pulling down Fleming’s pants, it appears he forgot to stick his cup in when he was donning his jock strap-let’s see, Indiana and New Hampshire School of Architecture, hey, there’s parity in college basketball, any given da-THERE GOES MACY, HE’S ALL ALONE, THE 30, THE 20, THE 10, TOUCHDOWN, MILFORD-that’s a toss-up, Texas Tech and Brigham Young, if BYU’s center can shake off his knee injury…”

 

Gang, remember those old movies at around 11:00PM (“Where is Keri and Jaime, Gil?”) , where the Oriental family (Chinese, Burmese, Japanese, Korean, miscellaneous Far Eastern nationality) was using their martial arts (Karate, Kung Fu, Judo, etc.) for just about ANY reason? Mom hung the laundry on the line and Dad asked Mom how long before his Hanes dried, kick, kick, kick box, oh, about another hour, kick, punch, flip, dance on clothesline. That’s good, kick, punch, scratch his private area, I have that meeting with Coach Thorp this afternoon, he’s interviewing me for equipment manager, jab, swing, cobra position, no problem, I should have you ready along with your best pin-stripe suit, punch, kick, reverse kick on a booth at The Bucket.

Isn’t that really what this arc is, Chinese Dad died and is now kick-boxing with Jesus, replaced by Chet Ballard who still needs to learn a few moves to get the hang of this arc? No worries. I’m sure Charlie can show Chet, er, American Dad (“Dad” for short) the ropes on B Movie Martial Arts techniques.

Charlie, kick, box, SLAM, jab, poke, kick again, call me Dad, kick, punch, WHAP, slap, I will, once you take this pebble out of my hand, Chet, kick, punch, BAM, BOOM, slap, punch, Chet down on the ground in obvious pain, Dr. Pearl’s Model T policy in his hand

“Chet, you’re going to have to do better anticipating the cross kick. Shouldn’t have left your fly open.”

 

If yore return volley from some punk Oriental kid who just keeps harassin’ ya with kick, jab, punch, kick box is the tried-and-true load, lock, sight, aim, BLAM and the kid goes runnin’ home ta mamma with buckshot up his britches, ya might be a redneck.

 

What better way for Now-You-See-Him-Now-You-Don’t Shaw to return to the sidelines than P2 where he is contributing his two bits worth to Bruce Lee’s-Stepfather-Disguised-as-Don Everly-In-Obvious-Need-of-Dentu-Creme? I just love it when Coach Shaw can handle all the details so that Gil can get down to business and concentrate on the team. Without Coach Shaw and his Take-My-Quarterback-Please one-liners to fill in the gaps of the plot and move that and the chains on the sideline, the football team would still be at the 1-yard line. No sense in Gil trying to teach the 46 defense without help. Did you ever see Buddy Ryan without Henny Youngman? Rest my case.

Only, why is Gil shouting ACROSS the field? I thought your players were along the same sidelines with you unless the game’s a forfeit and we’re just scrimmaging and exchanging a few players to round out the roster at a couple of key positions. Unless Roh is engaged in warfare with Coach Andrews. Yeah, that’s it

Coach, kick, kick, box, slam helmet on Andrews’ head, your team sucks and belongs in a pasture with the rest of the cows, slap, kick, box, oh yeah?, punch, jab, swat, box, where does your coach style his hair, at The Spaghetti Factory?, kick, WHAP, flip, accidentally smack referee with judo chop for 15 yard penalty, well, at least I didn’t leave the team 30 years ago and try to start my own strip, without Thorpiverse, you’re worthless like your team, kick, jab, box, you’ll be stuck in 30 years, too, trust me, kick, box, punch, flip, fart,…

 

Everybody was Kung Fu fumbling

And the plot was kick-box bumbling

Even though Roh’s play was frightening

He fumbled with expert timing

 

And while we’re going the Oriental movie route, no Oriental movie, or foreign language film in general, is complete without the lip-synch track attempting to match the words of our Oriental actors and actresses. Gil Kai-Shek is no exception. You THINK he is saying

“Roh, check in for Chance!!!!!!!!!!”

But when Gil’s lips keep moving, you know he had to have said more than that, so here is Gil conveying what he REALLY said in his native Cantonese

“ROH!!!!!!!!!!!!! Get your ass over here and quit bitchin’ at Andrews!!!!!!!!!! Geez Louise, you’re slower than Marty sippin’ bourbon at the Milford Lounge. Check in at the scorer’s table!!!!!!!! DUMBASS, it’s right over there where Tiki’s pickin’ his nose, THERE, OVER THERE, NO DIPSHIT, not by the cheerleaders, you’re gonna get a karate kick with their megaphone, YES OVER THERE, where Scott’s usin’ a surgical tool on the halfback’s hamstring!!!!!!!!!! NOW WAIT UNTIL THE REF SIGNALS YOU IN, STUPID!!!!!!!!!! We still gotta kick the extra point, oh, Jesus, Coach Shaw, I hope he doesn’t have this much trouble at the scorer’s table in basketball, the scorer speaks Mandarin…”

 

And the signage is back!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Us Thorpiverse veterans relish that placards at a football game carry the day and were practically the 12th man at the football games during the Berrill years.  I don’t know what the sign in the background is saying, I never studied Shanghainese at Milford Community College but I have my dictionary handy (Langenscheidt’s Shanghainese-English, English-Shanghainese, 3rd Edition, 25th Printing)

“Eat  my shorts, Coach Andrews!!!!!!!!!!!”

The lack of Chinese characters in Andrews’ name was a dead giveaway. The rest was all over but the shouting

“Roh will kick-box you lard butts back to Oakwood!!!!!!!!”

Fortunately, the declension for “Kick-box” was in the intro pages of the dictionary

“Coach Shaw and your team will disappear!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Goin’ for the gut. Couldn’t find the polite form of “Your”. Had to improvise.

“Your mother drives a rickshaw!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Boy, that’ll demoralize the competition

 

Oooooooooookkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back with Match Game ’19, here to get the Cultural Revolution on its knees. You have the floor, Gene

Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought Chow Mein was a Tagalog dialect in the country of ____________________.

 

I’m assuming you saw the physique of Charlie “Ruh” Roh (Gotta love ya, Chris Berman) the other day. Between then and now, he must have read one too many Richie Rich comic books, all the way to the Charles Atlas section and taken things to heart. Threatened by his stepdad to call Chet Baker, “Dad”, or Ruh Roh would dry up and blow away, the pumping iron and the sophomore team bus has apparently paid off. Now if he can just hang onto Mr. Potato Head, the workout will pay even more dividends.

But the more I ponder the issue, the more I realize THAT’S THE IDEA. Fumble a toy you could carry around the house with your eyes closed, thereby stretching the plot all the way to Thanksgiving, or beyond, if Gil’s Christmas Party isn’t in full swing. Where’s your sense of adventure. Personally, I like people who had nothing better to do than score touchdowns and win the game fumble the toy-OH, THAT’S A FOOTBALL-around and cuss the referee out in Mandarin Chinese. First time somebody got an unsportsmanlike flag when the ref couldn’t understand a word he said. Yeah, right, Thorpiverse, save Roh’s 8 TD, 465 yard performance until Hanukkah. Build some excitement for 3 months and climax it with Roh being Mayor of Milford For The Day or sit on Santa’s lap, the reader’s pick. I can see the logic.

 

“And Roh coughs up the ball and Macy is beating the tar out of him on the sidelines. Roh is countering with kick, box, punch while Macy is continuing with beat his ass, beat his ass, beat his ass. Looks like the coaches are separating them, finally, and this gives me an opportunity to go to a station break. This is Marty Moon for WDIG radio, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

“Folks, would you like to have a blast while buying your favorite liquor at your headquarters for liquor. Well, here’s your chance to enter the 6th Annual Frisbee Golf Classic held right here at Milford Beverage Warehouse.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp. And, boy, you oughta see the beaucoup entrants in this tournament lining up for a piece of history. The course will be challenging and the booze will be flowing. This year, we made some changes to make the course more exciting. It’s not much fun throwing a frisbee at a cardbaord cut-out of Chester Cheetah on a par 3, dog leg left by the Durango Tequila rack. Why not spice up the competitive juices and award a man a case of Bud if he can knock the jar of Planters out of Mr. Peanut’s hand? We’ll admit we also caught some flak because hitting the freezer door of Big Ass Bourbon Freezees on a par 5, straightaway was child’s play so we used the forklift to hoist the freezer up 3 stories. Try flippin’ your Whammo! at the Jack Daniel Slushees now. We also made sure that the men’s and women’s rest rooms are WELL-MARKED this year. No more surprises. The men should find the door for stall #3 on a par 5 dog leg right in the men’s room, no problem. Fortunately, the women only screamed twice last year. We didn’t have to involve the Milford Police.

And while you’re entering, check out these door busters. Miller High Life Genuine Draft, 18-pack, a steal at 24.99. And how ’bout Jim Beam Natural Smoke Fine Smelt Whiskey? We’ll only charge you what we would charge your family AND if you buy now, we’ll knock off another dollar AND you’ll get a free Top-flite 280x Frisbee, perfect for joining in the fun while gettin’ half-sloshed. Hey, you might win the Tournament plus get the prized for Most Stoked at the Stake. And don’t forget to buy plenty of Milford Vending Beer Nuts. At a price of 6.99/can, you can wash it down with a cold case of Coors, fresh out of the refrigeration unit we have in the back of the store for only 48.99/case. Sorry, we will not be able to use the refrigerator door as a frisbee target this year as the janitor will be buffering the concrete floor that night.

Goodness, come on in and fill out a form for this Tournament. We understand The Bucket is trying to plead their case for a liquor license by sponsoring a Sand Volleyball Tournament. Where are they going to get the sand? Mudlark Lake is cordoned off this weekend for that Aerosmith concert. If you really don’t care to know like I don’t, get a move on down here for fun, frisbees, and foam and leave your Happy Meal attitude at The Bucket. Tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.

]

All right, Gang, it’s all yours. Do you really want to know or care if Roh is going to ride the bench for the next 3 months from today’s gaffe in P3? I thought not.

 

“…THEY’RE ROCKIN’ AND ROLLIN HERE IN M-TOWN, TIKI’S A PTPer, CHARLES ROH AND CHANCE MACY, 1-2 COMBO IN AMERICA, BABY!!!!!!!!! COACH SHAW IS THE NEXT HEAD COACH AT…”

FREEZE IT, GIL

 

“Your quarterback eats Bucket Chow Mein from the children’s menu!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Those lessons in Tibetan are paying off.

August 27, 2019

P4:” You Wade In The Kiddie Pool Of Journalism And Your Mother Drives A Pickle Wagon.”

Filed under: exposition comics, football, Gil Thorp, Just plain sad, Marty Moon, Pissy faced Gil — tdrewhardin @ 2:44 am

082719

There I feel better.

Oh, yeah, that’s right, we’re talking Gil and Marty. Well, shut my mouth with some crumbs of corn pone that fell off the table at the First Annual Mudlark Kick-off Tailgate Luncheon that’s been alternating with football practice that’s been going on for about 2 weeks. Marty is back.

I could maybe understand Marty not participating in the festivities, given Marty’s propensity to not sleep with the enemy. Marty indulging in a sloppy joe while stabbing Gil in the back with a butcher knife just seems out of place, even by Marty standards. Gobble that Steak ‘n’ Shake Sirloin Cheeseburger With a Side Order of Cheese Fries, washing it down with an icy-cold Mudlar-K-Cola Pepper Pop (to avoid copyright issues with Dr. Pepper, you understand) , then quoting that Gil’s secondary eats jelly beans just might make Marty a little too sleazy. Which probably explains why Mr. Moon showed up after Sam Finn got carted off in the pickle wagon.

I can see that.

“Well, looks like they’re done pumping Finn. What the Hell did he eat? Is that bagel and lox I see on the ground? What kind of a tailgate luncheon are we running around here? Spinach Quicheburgers? In this heat? Time to spring into action.”

Enter Marty.

Post-tailgate fellowships will never be the same.

 

Cheryl Fox, you represent America. While interviewing for disabilty yesterday, you very patient, knowledgable, and professional. Hailing from Cincinnati, Ohio and as a service representative for Humana, you love your job and you love helping other people. And you do it with a smile. Many people could learn from Cheryl’s example about what it takes to make America great. Many times, you gotta put your nose to the grindstone, which you’ve done as a bus driver for several years or as a keen phone service representaive with a lot of savvy, backed by an understanding of human nature. Gang, if you see her, treat her with respect. I salute you, Cheryl. We need more like you.

 

Really, I was just making an off-hand joke, not really intending to go anywhere with it. Doesn’t THAT sound like a familiar theme in Thorpiverse.

But with all the blockin’ and tacklin’ and munchin’ and crunchin’ and faintin’ and caterwaulin’ and threatenin’ law suits, this is a sudden turn of events that’s gotten me a tad suspicious.

Did Marty sneak out from under the tackling dummy when they were done with a slightly-ill-advised picnic? What was he hoping to find? Kids weren’t eating their vegetables? Gil wasn’t using a fork when scooping the macaroni salad? The coke canister exploded and they had to wipe off several uniforms with dish towels when they weren’t calling 9-1-1 about the casualties?

“Nothing major. Everybody go back to their seats and enjoy the chicken nuggets. The ambulance just made its last trip. The EMT said most of ’em should be OK.”

 

If Marty is to dig up any dung, he’ll do it as a GI Joe Action figure as in P1. He and Gil are engaged in mortal combat, well, at least in a war of wits. This is an annual event us Thorpiverse fans relish every year. Just kick back in the Broyhill recliner, put the popcorn on the TV tray, pop the VCR with the remote, and enjoy. Hey, your VCR is another TV, right? Or so the VCR instruction manual says when you first set it up? Then it’s like watching a Rambo doll kick-boxing with The Riddler doll through not one but TWO TV’S!!!!!!!!!!!!! In front of the Land of the Gigantic Offensive Linemen!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Entertainment at its finest. To think, some of you were going to the Milford Majestic on 1/2 Price Seating Night to go watch “Puking from Too Much Mustard on the Planet of the Apes!!!!!!”.

 

Because the amphitheater I pass every night might want to consider updating its matrix board after seeing Death Cab for Cutie scheduled for July 7th, much as I like the group

 

Today’ headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Suing Milford Outdoor Amphitheater Concerning Slim Whitman’s ‘Night Of Memories In England’ Tour!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I had no idea the dude was dead; I’m lettin’ Cochrane handle the refund application procedure. I’m willin’ to settle out-of-court.”

 

While I’m letting my stomach settle from the Beans ‘n’ Cornbread Fellowship sponsored by the Milford Football Parents Booster Club (dues are only $25 every year, free food and an 8 x 11 portrait of Gil in the raw, suitable for framing) , I’m a little perplexed.

What does he mean by battling at a few positions? I guess there’s not much competition at long snapper, not that I’m expecting kids meeting out in the parking lot after practice, duking it out for the guts and the glory of this particular sentry post.

And some of you think Gil might have quarterback on his mind when discussing the battles where there ARE battles at some of the spots. Ahhhhh, careful. One year, a couple of quarterbacks went down and they had to resort to Milford High’s chess champion who also had a serious heart condition, Darren McBride. So as long as Gil is speaking in vague generalities, you’ll just have to use your imagination. Now the silver lining in the black cloud of Gil’s laying bare his ambiguities with Marty is that I think Gil has the players ON THE FIELD in mind when talking up the lack of competition at certain spots. I can say without fear of contradiction that the water boy’s job is safe for another year. And Rick Scott will not have to look over his shoulder for any comers who dare amble from the parking lot with a medical bag in hand. Rick can breathe easier and buy another pair of jeans. He’s got the job security, what the hay?

 

And do I dare say it? Gals, you better clutch your boyfriend if he’s nearby. Everybody else grab the nearest bleacher or lawn chair, if you have one handy.

 

Marty has a point.

OMIGOD, THE SKY IS FALLING, QUICK, COVER THE SALISBURY STEAK, USE THAT REYNOLDS FOIL TO PROTECT THE AMISH POTAT-

Usually, when Marty comes to call AT ANY TIME, particularly in the Fall, it’s not good news. His rapier wit just grates our nerves and you want to dump the bowl of 3 bean salad on his head. If the team is looking at an awful year because the entire defensive line graduated and went to Milford Vocational & Technical Institute to major in Bowling Pinspotting Mechanics, Marty is sure to be the resident buzzard and feed off the roadkill. Nothing like sticking a few more ginsu knives in Gil’s already-stale Swedish meatballs.

This time, Marty is hard-hitting but within the parameters, only asking what is becoming somewhat obvious. It didn’t help Gil that the ambulance drove away with a casualty and depleted his roster even more. Marty has artillery.

It’s just that Marty might have to turn in his WDIG certification if he continues to practice journalism ethics while negotiating with his nemesis. And speaking of nemesis, is it really necessary to portray Gil as the second cousin of Dr. No? We’re still recovering from Marty’s reform movement. One day at a time.

 

If ya gotta go to the hospital cuz ya swallow’d the whole durn Betty Crocker Dutch Choklit cake and washed it down with a case of Bud at the Milford Foundry 167th Annual Company Picnic and the EMT’s gotta have 23 yuk buckets to pump ya in the ambulance on th’ way ta Milford General, ya might be a redneck.

 

Ooooooookkkkkkk, time to bring sanity to this God-forsaken-plot-in-the-making. Gene Rayburn is back with a vengeance. Take the stage, Gene

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought the 385th Annual Mudlark Chew-and-Grind Pre-Pigskin Picnic was held on ____________.”

 

Come to think of it, Waylon Jenning’s grandson interviewing Dr. No’s illigetimate child might be a deadly combination for a potential plot in football. It’s getting off on the right foot in P2, give it a chance.

In the interim, Gil is enjoying a Foghorn Leghorn Moment in P3, leastwise, it’s hard to imagine Gil directing that comment at Joey Tribbiani and Chandler Bing over by the Boston Baked Beans tray. Even if they and the rest of the Friends cast enjoy food, football, and fellowship, that doesn’t make them shallow. Gotta stick it on Marty, Foghorn. Do not waste a funny on a show that is hilarious and often makes fun of what is serious in Thorpiverse.

Even if it was a cheap laugh. Hey, it got a chuckle out of me. I choked on my cole slaw.

 

RRRRRRRRRREEEEEEEEEETTTTTTTTTTCCCCCCCCCCCHHHHHHHHHH

BBBBBBBLLLLLLLLLLLLLOOOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWWWWWW

UUUUUUUUUPPPPPPPPPPCCCCCCCHHHHHHUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCKKKKKKKK

“No question, I was a hurt puppy that day. The Milford IGA had smuggled in kangaroo meat from Australia and tried to sell it to the Mudlark Football Parents Booster Club as Big Mac’s. Luckily, one of the split ends fighting another split end for his job and his turkey giblets saw the label on the ground and got the truth.”

“Hi, this is The Shark with Joe Sharkey Law Offices. I couldn’t believe my ears when Sam Finn told me he had devoured the whole plate of burgers illegally imported on the Mayflower and took a detour following Magellan’s route to finally deliver unrefrigerated kangaroo meat, having trekked several twists and turns and neap tides from the Brisbane slaughterhouse to Mudlark Practice Field property. They could have at least gone half on the duty.

What added insult to injury was Mr. Finn then had to run the steps at the stadium. Going up and down the steps with a dead cow strapped on you as a dead weight might make you faster but in the humidity he was exposed to, he was a sitting duck for bursitis, malaria, whooping cough, turf toe, hepatitis, and athlete’foot.”

“I got a check from Milford IGA for 6.03 × 10v23 dollars. I remember the amount because I memorized Avogadro’s Number when Ms. Rizk was getting boring. I can save up for college and I was able to pay for the Pepto-Bismol 100-pak at Milford Emergency Clinic. And I can afford limo service to practice, Mom doesn’t have to rush from work at the Milford Toyota Plant to take me to practice. Thanks, Shark.”

“There you have it. If you ate the wrong salad and the soy milk tasted a little funny, call 1-FON-THE-JAWS today and get piece of mind when you get food poisoning from rigatoni. Insurance companies are working to protect their ass from paying out claims from an idle piece of carrot cake and keeping the food industry in the clear. Fight back with an attorney who knows his way around the block when fighting company picnic suppliers. One call, that’s all.”

Go for it, Gang. I gotta go to the Milford Clinic and get treated for trauma. Mixing Marty and decency was like adding water to acid. Add acid to water if ya don’t wanna splatter.

 

“So ya think McBride can settle the issue at QB after he’s taken a couple of Rolaids?”

“These inane questions are testing my patience, Mr. Bond. I can insert a Sun Yat-Sen flunky at the position in my quest for world domination.”

 

 

On a Rolaids commercial

“Gil, how do you spell ‘relief’?”

“R-O-L-L-U-P-T-H-E-D-I-N-N-E-R-R-O-L-L-S.”

 

 

March 7, 2019

Breakfast At Mimi’s

Filed under: Coffee Cantina, freak hands, Gil Thorp, Marty Moon, Pissy faced Gil — tdrewhardin @ 6:02 pm

030719

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.”

March 6, 2019

Just Who Owes Who?

gt03062019

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.

March 5, 2019

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

030519

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.”

Older Posts »

Blog at WordPress.com.