This Week in Milford

January 21, 2020

Ease Off, Alexa, I’m Pretending To Be A Coach And The Camera’s Rolling.

Filed under: Milford Idiots, Mimi Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 7:09 am

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He lived The Dream

 

He lived The Dream because he was The Dream. He worked and toiled to set ALL people free. And he chose to do it with love. Many leaders foment rebellion but Doctor Martin Luther King Junior was like Gandhi, if the cause was violent, neither wanted any part of it.

Please remember a man who set all men free through the gift of speech and through the ability to organize peacefully. Speaking as a Christian, I feel it is important to recognize a man who made it possible to implement what seemed impossible. And he did it with love.

On the birthday of Doctor Martin Luther King Junior, I would like to take the time to point out the grave injustices done to several African-American musicians. Because, for example, I am angered and outraged to find out Muddy Waters, one of the great Blues musicians, wound up working minimum-wage in a hardware store, I would ask the readership to please spread the word about Eric Clapton and The Rolling Stones who couldn’t do everything but did SOMETHING to address issues like this.

And for good measure, please spread the word for The Beatles, The Who, REM, U2, Duran Duran, The Police, Edgar Winter, and Johnny Winter who also did SOMETHING.

I am not asking you to buy their records. But if everybody would take the time to talk this up, SOMETHING will get accomplished. Doctor Martin Luther King Junior would have said the same thing.

Thank you for reading.

 

 

Alexa, as I recall, nobody was asking you to shoot ill-advised 3-pointers clunkers to ignite the Milford Girls Basketball offense. Hey, you’re still the Head Inmate running Mimi’s Prison & Grill but if you’ll listen CAREFULLY next time to Coach Mimi’s words (Jeez, it’s hard to utter these oxymorons) , she was essentially pointing out that as long as you and Chris Schuring are duking it out on the academic front and the athletic front (“I backed my man better than you did”) that points on your GPA should be equivalent to points on the scoreboard. I mean, she whacked you on the butt to drive home her message. Does she need to go get a 2 × 4 from Milford Hardwoods to enforce the issue?

In Dr. Pearl’s office one day

“Dr. Pearl, I’ve told her time and time again that when she’s open 2 feet under the basket to SHOOT THE DAMN BALL, not kick it out for a contested 25-footer!!!!!!!!!! And when she got an open look and went to the water fountain to go get a drink, that was the final straw. That’s traveling, Alexa.”

“Fine, Coach Thorp. Do what you have to do.”

WHACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

I guess as long as there’s a witness and the paddle is made from the baobob tree and there’s no blood, no foul.

 

 

Big shout-out to Miranda Spurgeon of Louisville, Kentucky. She comes to work with presence of mind and makes good food for the customer to eat and judging by the customer business, she makes it pretty damn good. And she does it with a smile. She represents America with her focus to the task and let me tell you, that focus doesn’t get paid enough. Next time you’re in Pizza Hut on Lower Hunters Trace and Dixie Highway in Louisville, stop in and say hello to her. She’s more than earned her money and my respect.

Support Working America, Gang. They fuel America with a vengeance.

 

Gang, I know Thorpiverse likes perspective. It certainly adds fuel to the fire and spices up the plot. Naturally, applying Lawry’s Sea Salt to a dead battery isn’t going to start the vehicle anytime soon, but that’s beside the point. I just think how cool it is that the Mudlark Ladies Basketball team is being directed (?) by their fearless coach under a the roof of a gigantic Lionel Train set. If that doesn’t set historic precedent, nothing will.

And once at a Pacer game, Reggie Miller came out way early from halftime and practiced shooting 3’s, swishing every one of them. Guess what? We won on a last-second, off-balance 3 from Reggie himself. Ya llay the way ya practice.

 

Therefore, I just adore Alexa’s comments. My grandmother was a Republican, my mother was a Republican, therefore I ain’t shootin’ the rock out next to the trail official again. I got my pride, you know. Oh, we get it, Alexa, neither your grandmother nor your mother was Reggie Miller, so you ain’t about to make a fool out of yourself. If you’re going to do any kicking out when you’re wide open, you ain’t gonna do any kickin’ at the 10-second line. Sure, ya play the way ya practice. Makes sense.

Grandma made a career out of passing up easy looks to lead the team to victory. Way to take one for the team, Grandma. And the tradition continues. Successs breeds success.

 

If ya shoot squirrel with a bow cuz yore granddaddy did it with a sword he won from the Civil War and yore daddy killed ’em with a Bowie knife, both off ’em dumpin’ McCormick’s Oregano ta spice up the spoils, and ya do the same dumpin’ with McCormick’s Parsley and Sage, ya might be a redneck.

 

I remember reading a book a few years back called “Psychiatry and Ethics” that was written by a psychiatrist and professor shortly before he died. In his introductory comments, he pointed out that age was not necessarily a sign of wisdom but many times an accumulation of a lot of muddled ideas.

So when I see that Big Close-up of Mimi today, I’m not expecting Taoism to fall out of the sky.

The basketball team functions as one within you and it simply operates. Just relax and kick back-

“Coach, you got 10 seconds to get on the floor.”

We’ll contemplate the Tao on the next 20-second time out.

 

Ooooooookkkkkkkk, so let’s see what happens when Alexa ignores GilMimi logic and keeps ignoring the bucket whether she makes a beautiful backdoor cut for a bunny or gets a Patrick-Ewing-4-steps-to-the-basket runner by going back in time. Don Fischer with the call in 1987 (cold as Hell in my car while I was listening but worth it based on the result-ha) and it’s the NCAA Finals game

“Down low to Darryl Thomas. Kicks it back out to Keith Smart. Smart with the shot-OH NOOOOOOO, HE PASSES IT TO DON NOORT AND NOORT SHOOTS AT THE OTHER GOAL. SYRACUSE WINS THE NATIONAL CHAMPIONSHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Scary. Alexa, I’ll admit Gil and Mimi wouldn’t know WHAT TO DO with Don Noort, the best 12th man the Hoosiers ever had, but if you don’t want him and Magnus Pelkowski in the Starting 5 against Michigan in the 1976 Championship game, you better shoot while the passing lanes are open. Don Noort teamed up with Isaiah Thomas and Landon Turner in ’81? If you haven’t been offensive, er, a gunner before, you better shoot the J or G.J. Smith might join them. Oops, that’s Kentucky. Well, you get the concept.

And doncha just love that Mount Rushmore profile Thorpiverse attempts to project? Like George Washington was drawing up a box-and-one on Gentleman John Burgoyne when he was posing in the hills of South Dakota.

And I could swallow that portrait if she wasn’t so friggin’ clueless. Once upon a time, she was in her office calculating how lucky her team was, her pocket calculator actually displaying a winning record function.

Then she playfully whacks Alexa on the butt and that’s where Mimi went wrong. She should have gotten those Marine boots Gil had stored in the Spanish-American war chest and laid into Alexa’s derriere. Sure, it didn’t match your Izod gym suit but if you want to light a fire under Don Noort’s butt, fashion is a low priority. Shoot the damn ball on a lay-up or you’ll see more of what Jack La Laine wore at Iwo Jima. Attaway, take charge, Coach.

And I’d like to give the benefit of the doubt and say that Teddy Roosevelt in P2 has an air of confidence before besieging San Juan Hill. But I wouldn’t want to be in his unit based UPON P2. I’ll sit out this one and help the medics on the back line.

What I REALLY think Teddy, er, Mimi is communicating, based upon the facial English is “Dammit, I didn’t slap your ass and risk a lawsuit for no reason, SHOOT THE BALL (but if you pass up easy opportunities and we win by 30, that’s OK too, I get mixed up on which bucket to shoot at too, the plot forgot to tell us which end we’re shooting at so if you shoot a lay-up and make it and the opponent gets awarded the 2, you’ll know to shoot lay-ups and pass up easy bunnies on the other end. It helps to know which end where your offense is sucking.)

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Laterals To The Left Guard 2 Yards Shy Of The Goal Line, Team Loses Contest In Milford Parks & Recreation Flag Football League!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I ain’t no Jim Brown.”

 

 

And don’t that beat all. This whole ShootScandal (or maybe Bunnygate) has dragged down into girly gossip in P3. Boy, nothing like Jan and Marcia and Cindy and Don and G.J. as my starting 5. Can’t wait for the Rotisserie League to start. They’ll shoot the ball anyway. Didn’t say where.

Yeah, while Alexa needs to be reminded by Coach Norman Dale, because Mimi’s profile is still hardening next to Abe Lincoln, that the basket is still 15 feet from the free throw line and that tall people have been known to shoot in that area or thereabouts, the plot has been temporarily (fingers crossed) sidetracked, resembling a chapter out a Louisa May Alcott novel

Jan was shy and was quite unclear where her heart should be, let alone the ball. Marcia’s acquaintance, Gilshire Bunnygate, Esq., had attained a reputation for beguiling the fortunes of her demeanor and therefore encouraged Cindy to pursue an alternate course to the baseline. G.J. and Don, two lackeys who brought the brougham to the estate, exhibited an uncharacteristic altruism by sacrificing the prize for the greater good. The game was won quite handily.

I think Marty Moon appears in the next chapter. I’ll let you know.

 

“And Coach Mimi Thorp calls a time out. Alexa Watson is struggling on 2-of-11 shooting and it is evident as Milford has fallen behind with Central leading, 26-17. We’ll take a break and come back after these messages. This is Narty Moon and your listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

 

On the roof of the Milford High School gym

 

I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M GOING TO END IT ALL NOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Honnnnneyyyyyyyy, why are you on this roof? Don’t you want to come to bed with me?”

I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M GOING TO END IT-

“Honey, don’t be afraid. I called the Milford Suicide Prevention Line and they are here to help.”

“Coach Shaw, whatever your reasons for jumping, please listen to reason. We just want to know what’s wrong.”

“Shit, I wanted to impress the Mrs. by getting harder than Pike’s Peak but I’m still flatter than the Florida Everglades. I couldn’t perform oral sex on a Florida panther. I knew I shouldn’t have applied Miracle-Gro.  I CAN’T GO ON!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Coach Shaw, your wife here has set up an appointment at Milford Men’s Clinic for an emermency massage, a round-the-clock service that is fully-staffed 24/7. All you have to do is fill out some easy paperwork, drop your Levi’s and the masseuse will do the rest. That’s better than landing in the dumpster below.”

“Honey, you don’t want to be filthy with cafeteria food. And this is a better option. Sometimes when the bear won’t bite you, you have to let somebody apply some TLC and rub some Ben-Gay along the way. You may smell mediciny but you’ll be solid as a church.”

“And Coach Shaw, who’s going to take your place in the fall? The other temp coaches went to Dagwood to coach Elmo’s 10-and-under traveling football squad.”

 

 

The crisis prevention specialist had a point. And I missed gettin’ it on in bed. And after a thorough psychiatric evaluation at Milford State Hospital, I’ll be able to leave the padded room and head to Milford Men’s Clinic for some tender touches. Yup, once I convince the psychiatric staff that I will not warm my significant other on the bulletin board, it’s all downhill from there. And my wife’s goin’ down and she’s gonna love it.

Don’t put your own sex life in a straitjacket. Come to Milford Men’s Clinic and get yourself free. Take it from me, freedom is not hard once you’re hard.

 

Thanks for your patience. I just hope I don’t lose mine watching this game.

 

 

December 31, 2019

The Day Chance “Sam” Macy Almost Sent “Henny” Demarco To The Hospital.

Filed under: Milford Idiots — tdrewhardin @ 1:25 pm

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Gang, I apologize. I had to run one of my dad’s workers up to the Mexican Consulate and get his Passport renewed and that was an all-morning trip. The good news is it was worth it as he is good to go for quite some time.

 

Anymore, it is hard to tell if that’s Teddy “Mr. T. for the Day” Demarco in P1 or if it’s a suitable replacement, i.e., some smart-ass teenager with a severe case of Magic Marker Head. For my money, at the rate this storyline is going, no, I don’t believe it is Dobie Gillis disguised as Woody Woodpecker copping an attitude. DEFINITELY not Maynard P. Krebs, Dobie’s friend. Playing the bongos while exhibiting coxcomb scalp really doesn’t mix.

So Henny Demarco is telling Chris to take his basketball and go home because he couldn’t do anything with it at Springfield. God, I love it when I can analyze a humorous situation. Ain’t I wonerful?

 

Shout-out to Fuel Mart in Austin, Indiana. They never disappoint. They sell all kinds of goodies from tasty footlong Polish sausages to Italian-style subs, from 2-liter Coke products to pipin’ ot coffee, from chips to Little Debbies and everything in between. The good news is, they’re sold at prices that don’t remind you of convenience store rip-offs. With a friendly staff, it is hard to beat and harder to resist. Come in off of Exit 34 off I-65 and head west until you get to the first right and the station is right there, for the taking.

Gang, you need to go where everyone knows your name.

 

Hey, but the high school actually RESEMBLES a high school, no Room 222 that Elroy Jetson attended while still in pre-school. By gum, if Goofus and Gallant can pass Mr. T. in the high school and still keep the floor shiny as in P1, I might just take the chance I CAN eat my Big Mac off the same and kick back and enjoy Mr. T. on his Open Mike roll laying into “Choke” Schuring. If nothing else, my fries won’t go BONK.

“Hey, does the basket have bad breath because the basketball doesn’t go anywhere near it. Maybe if the basket chewed on a couple of Altoids, you might shoot better.”

Cutting to the bone, Mr. T.

 

If ya buy the whole Certs rack at the Milford 7-11 cuz ya want ta remove the Schlitz breath from yore mouth so youze kin kiss yore wife in the evening and she’ll never suspekt ya took a detour ta the bar and got a little carried away, ya might be a redneck.

 

“Does your face hurt? It’s killing the basket.”

Well, anyhoo, Gallant is once again taking the High Road because Tommy “Looks like Chance “Sam” Macy” Rich is wanting a piece of, we assume, mind you, Teddy Demarco. Oh, the conversation

Let me rip his balls and make him eat them.

Oh, no, Tommy or Sam, whichever you prefer, it would go against what I was taught reading the Gideon’s Bible I was reading while eating my Continental Breakfast at the Milford Moto-Lodge

But he said you shit like a dog and shoot like one too

Oh, there, there, Chance “Goofus” Macy, his time will come. One day he will say Wilt the Stilt scored 100 points because he was at Mudlark gym and got the same Homer calls that Gil gets when he is coaching and a slew of vipers will spring out of the jump circle and drag him into the Pits of Hell. This Goofus and Gallant plot guarantees it as it’s under contract. Until then, why don’t we see what’s behind the Mystery Door. We might turn up child pornography photos that Dr. Pearl took with her Polaroid One-Step. There were rumors

“If you apply some Ban Roll-On, you’re shooting percentages won’t stink.”

Comedy Club any day now, Mr. T.

 

The Unknown Comic in the Milford High School hallways

“Hey, the last time I saw a guy shoot like that, he got arrested for indecent exposure.”

Come, Goofus, ignore him. Let’s remove that extra finger so you can grip your Bucket Burgers better. The door to the Milford Minor Surgery Center is straight ahead. Your hand will be as good as a penta-morph by this afternoon

GONGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG

See, Goofus? He got his

 

Okay, Gene Rayburn is back with some more relief from this charade of comedy. Take ‘er away, Gene

“Dumb Dora was sssooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought Chance Macy looked like _____________.”

“Hey, ya hockey puck!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Do you have to get with your consultant every time you go down the score to shoot!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Oh, Goofus the Omega Man, ignore Mr. Rickles. You still have to inject that serum in me if you want me to be well and have my eyeballs return in P3. I realize it’s no fun not being able to stick Mr. Rickles’ head in the blender at the Milford High School cafeteria kitchen but think of the potential of winning in the Playdowns when I’m scoring the winning shot because Coach Thorp wasn’t around to even teach me how to shoot at his Nerfhoop in his office. When we hoist the trophy in front of Mr. Rickles, he’ll just have to go insult Hank Finkel

“Hey, Mr. Finkel, I understand the only time you show up in a Celtic uniform is when the team shows up at the group photograph.”

Mr. T., don’t let off the gas pedal.

 

“…what do I look like, a surgeon who can cut extra fingers with a ginsu knife?”

“And we’ll be back for more hilarity from ‘Live at the Milford Improv’ after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”

 

At the Milford Girls Gym, Coach Shaw is at the halfcourt line in his Fruit of the Looms trying to work up a sweat

AH BABY

MY HEART IS FULL OF LOVE

AND IT’S ALL FOR YOU

NOW COME ON DOWN AND DO WHAT YA GOT TO DO

“Honey, what are you doing here at 3:00AM? Aren’t you afraid the police will arrest you?”

While Coach Shaw is doing several pelvic thrusts bending the crotch seams in his underwear to the nth degree

“Mrs. Shaw, don’t bother me now, I’m trying to concentrate.”

CONCENTRATE?????????

As Coach Shaw punts one of the slaughterballs into the 7th row of the Visitors bleachers

“Sure, The Milford Health Quarterly said to throw away your dick pills, dancing yourself in a frenzy is the way to pump up the merchandise.”

“Sweetie, you don’t have to literally jump out of the gym to have fun with me. Now put on your clothes so you take them off somewhere else and have a great time.”

“Why would I take off my pants when I’m gettin’ on the roller coaster at Milford Six Flags?”

YOU CAN START ME UP

YOU CAN START ME UP AND NEVER STOP

DON’T MAKE A GROWN MAN CRYYYYYYY

“Honey, don’t make ME cry. Put on your clothes and let’s get out of here.”

While Coach Shaw is pirouetting around, finally slam-dunking a volleyball on the 7-foot goal

“Mrs. Shaw, don’t stop me now, I feel the earth moving in my significant other and it’s a matter of time before I have a hardness an Olympic diver could do a half-gainer off of.”

Off the same album, “Tattoo You”

DON’T WANT TO BE YOUR SLAVE

DON’T WANT TO BE YOUR SLAVE

DON’T WANT TO-

“Honey, you’re still flat as a pancake. The police will arrest you for indecent exposure on that alone.”

ALL I WANT IS YOU-

FWWWWAAAPPPPPPP

Coach Shaw takes the needle off the Emerson Lake & Palmer record

 

“My wife was right, of course. I was tired of trying to get in on when I could get it on with a little help from Milford Men’s Clinic. And their new Inflat-a-Bull formula, drug-tested on mice at Milford Labs, Inc. worked so well, they had to get a couple more cages to accomodate the newborns. Man, I never knew Mickey could get that horny. If it worked on Minnie Mouse, why couldn’t I repair this flat tire and go to Disneyworld with my wife. Just a couple of squirts and my sex life has hardened its heart. My wife seemed to agree. Now I leave the gym for the shootarounds. Come into Milford Men’s Clinic today and slam-dunk your Erectile Dysfunction. Believe me, it’s nice to score the winning shot with no time left on the clock.”

 

Gang, the floor is yours. Happy New Year and may God bless you. Next month will be my second year with the site. I especially want to thank Timbuys for all his help during this time. Without him, my end of things are severely hampered. Treat him with respect. He’s earned it.

But I also couldn’t have done it without you readers. I am nothing without you. I live by the Consent of the Governed and when the TWIMers are there to support me, it makes this past decade truly special. Thanks again and please be safe. We need you.

 

WE CAN MAKE LOVE ON LOVE BEACH-

BAM BAM BAM

Mimi bangs on the garage door

“Gil, dammit, put away the ELP record and come to bed. If Greg Lake’s singing won’t pump you up by now…”

 

The Unknown Comic at the Milford Gym

“Hey, hey, Gil, I don’t mean to say you’re limp but your sex life might take a hit when the leaves fall off the tree next autumn.”

Cuts deep, My Man. Have you imparted these Words of Wisdom to Mr. T.?

 

December 19, 2019

Take My Emissary, Please.

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Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

These Woody Woodpecker jokes

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Belong in an ash tray, Folks

 

Don’t these ignorant churls

Ever flirt with the girls

Rather than utter inane humor

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Teddy’s head is one great tumor

 

I lost track of how many panels we’ve been seeing in the name of (fingers crossed) establishing the plot and this ain’t pretty, Gang. We have already learned that Alexa the Computer who goes by the nickname HAL doesn’t like being called IBM (“You don’t like being called “Al”, Dave. You can understand), Chris lives in the Twilight Zone and is HAL’s competition on the academic front and that Teddy Demarco’s idol is Woody Woodpecker. It shows.

And instead of going to the Milford Comedy Club on Monda y(“Open Mike Night”) and doing his own act, he’s gotta send Mop Head to do his dirty work. Did you ever see Rodney Dangerfield’s step-brother shove Schroeder on stage, after the latter was in his Hanes practicing “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” (Lucy: “Schroeder, put on some pants, I don’t care what Gilbert & Sullivan piece you’re playing”)? That’s the equivalent today.

But the possibilities

“Yeah, I stuck my head in the microwave and after 30 seconds, the kids start calling me Jiffy Pop Head. I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t get no respect.”

Come on, Monday.

 

It’s bad enough that a few panels ago, we were observing Mudlark Ladies in their uniforms gossiping in Lifetime Basketball Gym Class, but Woody, if you’re going to sacrifice a lamb to dig at somebody, don’t send Mop Head and his See Spot Run humor.

 

See Dick over there.

He’s playing basketball with Jane.

Dick’s going to do a Cake-Baking-Baby-Shaking-Rump-Roasting-Bun-Toasting-High-Flyin’-Robinzine-Cryin’-I’m-Gonna-Go-Groovin’-So-Ya-Better-Get-Movin’-Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma’am-Glass-Breaker-I-Am-Jam on Jane.

Dick blows the dunk.

And Chocolate Thunder is crying.

Poor Dick.

 

Now THAT’S humor, Mr. Woodpecker.

 

Big shout-out to Chloe Whitaker of Louisville, Kentucky. She represents America with her hard work and determination. As a manager of Pizza Hut, she is able to get the pizzas and drinks out, the delivery drivers on time, and greet the customer at the Carry-Out with the professionalism that keeps the customer coming back. She is doing this while raising a family. Gang, I think she needs to be treated with respect. Come see why next time you’re in the area at the Pizza Hut on Lower Hunters Trace and Dixie Highway. I salute you, Chloe. America needs you.

 

Hoo boy. What is THAT hiding behind the balloon in P1. As long as Johnny Carson is going to congratulate the up-and-coming comedian for making Ed McMahon puke in his martini by making references to the comedian’s Chef Boy-Ar-Dee head, when he’s not making fun of someone’s lack of activity on the basketball floor (That happens around HERE? Perish the thought), I’d like to surmise the latest entry into the Pantheon of Mysterious Objects.

Some of you might call it a window. I beg to differ. I think Frida Kahlo contracted with the Chet Ballard-less Milford School Board to paint one gigantic banana she found in her back yard. The gods blessed the Mayan civilization with their own version of manna and it crash-landed in Kahlo’s kiddie swimming pool. What better way to commemerate damages to the scenery and still stay true to character. Even if you can’t fit the Chiquita on the canvas, well, hey, this is artistic expression. Sometimes you gotta use your imagination. Might as well, we’re having to do that with basketball. I bet the Dagwood Bumstead background crowd would agree. Yeah, smile for the camera, John Doe the Teenager, as long as you’re breaking the Fourth Estate while munching on a Twinkie. Or is that Diego Rivera, Frida’s husband? He’ll show up more than the officials at Mimi’s basketball games.

 

If ya git on stage and start rattlin’ off Hee Haw humor that yore readin’ off the note cards ya made out of the toilet paper in the outhouse, requirin’  3 rolls ta fine-tune yore act, ya might be a redneck.

 

At the Milford Comedy Club on Open Mike Night

“…and so Woody Woodpecker says to Pogo, ‘ya wanna split the scene and see what Winnie the Pooh is doing? I heard he’s trying to get Tigger off the bottle.’ And Pogo says ‘What do I look like, Elmer Fudd?'”

Silence

“Gil, I understand Mimi needs an assistant. They’re actually going to play basketball this year.”

 

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Greg Brady got dissed again

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Peter is really pissed, My Friend

 

This comedy show

Really needs to go

We prefer a gutter soon

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Basketball’s done began its swoon

 

Okay, okay, you swing-first-ask-questions later crowd aren’t satisfied so here’s what I’m gonna do to address the situation at hand

 

FRIDAY NIGHT, 8:00PM AT THE MILFORD GARDENS

 

CHRIS “THE ANIMAL” SCHURING

VS.

MR. T a/k/a TEDDY THE BEAR

NO TIME LIMIT, NO DISQUALIFICATION

MUDLARK CAGE MATCH

LOSER SPENDS THE REST OF THE SEMESTER TYPING MS. RIZK’S SYLLABI FOR INTRO JOURNALISM, ALL 4 CLASSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DON’T MISS IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BE THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Doesn’t that just fill your cup for vengeance? I know I get a rush while I’m typing all this. And I understand Anonymous Calculus Dude will be the referee.

 

P3-“I ran into a guy once who said he hadn’t had a French fry in 3 days.”

“What’d you do, Groucho?”

“I fried him.”

 

 

“I gave my wife my hair. She said, ‘No thanks, Dear, I have enough stuffing in the pillows’.”

BA DA BOOM

You can see the rest of Henny Youngman this Thursday at the Milford Comedy Club.

 

Gang, anybody who knows me knows that I live for coffee. I’m sipping on a cappuccino even as I text. And Folger’s is the best in the business, in my view. And Virginia Christine, the lady who played Mrs. Olson in the Folger’s commercials is a great actress.

That said, I’m a little befuddled why a lady with a Swedish surname has a German accent

 

At the Thorp Hog Farm one sunny day

“Mommy, there’s a strange woman in the kitchen.”

“I wonder who that can be?”

Gil, trying to snarf a bite of sausage from his Gil Thorp Pure Pork Italian Sausage and Wheaties breakfast sees the light

THAT’S MRS. OLSON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“You are rrrrrright, Coach Torp-”

“Thorp, Mrs. Olson.”

“It’s OK, Mimi, she’s Latvian. They have trouble with their “TH’s”.

“Now vy don’t you bot seet down and I vill make you a cup uv Folger’s Hazelnut?”

“Ummmmmm, umm. Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage Links, some Eggo Blueberry Waffles, some Trix, and Folger’s hits the spot, Mrs. Olson. They DO have Trix on the shelf in Patagonia, right, Mrs. Olson?”

“Gil, I think she’s German trying to be Bjorn Borg.”

“Eeess OK, Mrs. Torp, some people tink I’m an Eskimo with my accent. But I tell tem vetter you arrrrrreee Chinese or frrrroommmm Haiti, Folgers hits de spot at ze Milford Fireman’s Ball.”

“Mrs. Olson, I don’t care if it’s against the religion to sell Mel Purnell or Tennessee Pride or Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage in Oman where you’re from, my sausage patties and your coffee are a winning combo anytime.”

“Gil, don’t I satisfy?”

“Mimi, sometimes I get tired of eatin’ my Gil Thorp Kosher-Prepared Pure Pork Sausage with your combo Eight o’Clock Decaf and Nestle’s Quik concoction. Sometimes a man’s gotta have good eatin’.”

“I’m not talking about the coffee.”

“Whatever, Mrs. Olson and the rest of her Lapplanders know how to deliver good coffee FedExed on the reindeer. Nice to know when I’m devouring my Gil Thorp This Ain’t Jimmy Dean Pure Pork Sausage.”

“Oh, Mr. Torp, you say ze nicest tings. I will lose my Bulgarian accent and join you for breakfast.”

“Sure, there’s plenty of Gil Thorp Flapjack-Size Sausages to go around. In fact, why don’t you finish that plate my kids were eating off of.

And Folks, get your package of Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage today. Tennessee Pride’s porkers couldn’t hold my jock. Come see why at your local grocer.”

 

Have at it, Gang. I’m sneakin’ in for the early show at Milford Comedy Club. I understand Gil will be funnier this time. The producer is making him use a teleprompter.

 

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Time for this farce to end

Huh huh huh HUH huh

False comics may not extend

 

I’ve seen better acts

That’s a mighty fact, Jack

Slapstick that made you laugh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

An overload of frickin’ gaffes

 

 

Speaking of Carson

“The last time I had hair like that, Ed was begging me to make string cheese out of it as a substitute to cure his drinking.”

“Stop it, Johnny, you’re killin’ me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

 

“Mr. Freeze, after you’ve freeze-dried Batman and Robin in that gigantic Thermos cup, have some Gil Thorp Pure Pork Fritters to celebrate your takeover of Gotham City.”

“Gil, that’s Mrs. Olson serving Folgers Breakfast Blend and scones.”

December 5, 2019

Because Coach Thorp Won’t Take American Express.

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

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

At the Milford Walgreen’s

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

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

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

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

“Everything but the wine, sir.”

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

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

 

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

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

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

sub headline

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

 

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

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

If I were Charlie

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

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

After 2 hours of intense negotiations

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

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

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

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

 

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

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

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

sub headline

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

 

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

After Milford FINALLY ends football

CHANCE, WE’RE GOING TO DISNEYWORLD

 

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ONE-HORNED

ONE-EYED

FLYIN’

PURPLE PEOPLE EATER

Oh, that’s the referee. Never mind.

December 4, 2019

“The bad thing is, no one under 40 cares about this strip.”

gt12042019

Reading today’s strip is a lot like buying house brand groceries. The ingredients are the same, the packaging is close enough to fool the casual observer, but when you open the box, pour out the contents then take a bite, something just doesn’t look or taste quite right. Take those teeny tiny backpacks the Milford students are wearing. At son of teenchy’s high school the classes are so far apart, and the time between them so short, that the kids wear expedition size backpacks and lug all of the day’s books and supplies around with them.

Take also Chance and Charlie’s convo. They’re spot on about school board doings – that’s their parents’ deal, not theirs – but their take on the Valley Tech game is more than a bit off. The Mudlarks aren’t gonna make the playdowns, so the only person who’ll be talking about the game will be Marty Moon. Win, and he’ll rag on Gil for underachieving all season; lose, and he’ll rag on Gil for the same old same old. The whole Ballard scandal is what will keep Milford talking long after the pads are put in storage and the last can of Nitrotan is sprayed in someone’s jock.

Finally, take Chet’s sorry-not-sorry apology. I get why Ballard is apologizing to Charlie (that is Charlie, isn’t it? Whigham can’t seem to keep him on model), but shouldn’t he be apologizing to Chance first? Maybe Charlie will tell him that in tomorrow’s strip.  Maybe  he’ll dangle the possibility that he’ll call Chet “Dad” after that, and offer that loser an unwarranted ray of hope. Maybe before it’s all said and done we’ll find out what happened to Chance’s parents. Then again I’m also hoping that any college football team nicknamed “Tigers” or that has a nut for a mascot loses this coming Saturday, but I don’t have my hopes up for that either.

November 30, 2019

Good Lord, I Can See the End from Here

 

gt11302019

Hey boys and girls! Let’s

Get into the holidays

With a few haiku!

 

Milford Star headline:

Ballard Resigns from School Board

by Marjie Ducey

 

Woodward and Bernstein

Got nothing on Marjie’s mad

Journalism skills

 

It didn’t hurt that

Chet Ballard was as subtle

As a heart attack

 

Wants to be called “Dad”

By his stepson Charlie, but

Tries a bit too hard

 

What was Chet thinking?

Charlie would play more if Chet

Outed the starter?

 

Chet thought he’d dish dirt

Forgot he left a keystroke trail

What a nincompoop

 

Better if he had

Taught Charlie not to fumble

The ball won’t drop itself

 

Guess what’s next, Chet? “It’s

Only going to get worse.”

Time for Divorce Court!

 

November 29, 2019

This storylines’ a real turkey

Filed under: actual action, Marty Moon, Milford Idiots, Milford Weirdos — robmize2013 @ 9:39 pm

The story drags on with Marty basically jumping off Ballards ship, much like Clarence Boddicker and Dick Jones partnership fell apart in RoboCop after Clarence involved Jones in his criminal doings.

Hopefully Chet will only go to jail and not wind up fired like Dick Jones in the end– maybe Chief Lind will do the honors this time.

November 28, 2019

Get Out Of This Comic Strip, You Misguided Puppet.

112819

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

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

sub headline

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

 

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

 

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

This travesty and farce will drive me to the sea

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

The Mudlark team is all coming after me

I had no thought about my own reward

I cheated without Chance or Charlie’s firm accord

Just don’t say I’m

DAMNED FOR ALL TIME

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The last one was on the house.

 

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

That Chance never polished all his silly flaws

Moreover there’s an issue that I hate to broach

He lacerated the jaws of his clueless coach

I had not thought about my own reward

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

Just don’t say I’m

DAMNED FOR ALL TIME

 

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

 

 

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

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

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

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

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

“They’re holding up my face.”

 

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

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

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

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

 

Thank you for trashing his personal file

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

You’ll be richly rewarded with coins by the mile

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

 

I DON’T WANT YOUR BLOOD MONEY

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

I DON’T NEED YOUR BLOOD MONEY

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

 

Think of the many ways you can spend it

The Bucket, a steak house, The Milford Lounge

Just look at it as payment for setting things straight

30 pieces of silver is the least we can

Least we can

Least we can

Scrounge

 

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

 

At the Milford Soup Kitchen on Thanksgiving

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

“Anybody know the number of The Shark?”

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

 

Always knew that I’d be a frickin’ Mudlark

Always knew I’d be one if I tried

Then when I leave school

I can lounge like Gil Thorp

So they’ll all emulate us when we die

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