As much as we all wish our colleague Teenchy a swift recovery from whatever is ailing him, the first thought that crossed my mind when I heard about his condition was.. the strip was finally so far off the tracks that it made him physically ill.
And I’m sure thats not far off for the rest of us.
How on Gods green earth is this happening? We start off with the promise of a possibly exciting matchup thats so unknown that we dream of a memorable conclusion that will have the Milfordites talking about it the rest of the summer.
What we got is…not even close. How much food can these players eat in the first place to be able to play at any level resembling competitive when its already 90 degrees or so out (Yes its summer, we knew that before the game started)? I mean, really. During a normal athletic event most players are happy enough with water or Gatorade. This is like a Thanksgiving dinner for chrissake. And these kids are supposed to play with all these carbs and calories and sweets laid out for them?
I had already mentioned the umpire and the fans– did they know what was coming? Nope. Whoever planned this foodfest has shit for brains. And thats putting it mildly.
So I wont belabor their noble efforts to keep observing the constant interruptions in their job (ump) and their free time (fans). Which in any world beside ours would lead to downright mutiny.
Thank God they didnt charge admission for this or they’d be storming the Basilica.
Wherever this storyline is headed from here, somebodys got some major explaining to do. And I cant believe they have a rational one.
Dont know where to start- fielding tips, batting tips, pizza breaks, an umpire who by all rights should’ve headed for the hills an hour ago, and now — a sub sandwich delivery guy?? I’ve heard of fiascos but this – tops em all. Its almost turning into a Harlem Globetrotters game, where a semblance of a basketball game turns into a charade with goofy timeouts, confetti in a water bucket, and non-competitive action.
But the difference is WE KNEW BEFOREHAND! This shambles of a game is wasting the time of the fans in the stands (where have they been for 3 days?) and of course Mr. Umpire, who has the balls of a midget. No ump worth his salt would put up with anything like this fiasco. Throw everyone out of the park and go home. Thats what a real man in blue would do. Wasting his fuckin time showing delinquents how to play baseball.. not happening, man. Gimme my 25 bucks and see ya.
Of course with the odd angle of the catcher in P2, the ump stands a good chance of getting clocked in the nuts with a well-timed fastball. But since he doesnt have any, no worries.
Really not much to say about this strip today – Mikes mom is called, she basically sides with her son as being essentially a good kid, although she could get him to eat at home a little more and make sure he gets up early enough to do so, and the school says – sorry, but our policy is no knives period. End of discussion. And a likely suspension from the baseball team for a while.
Time for an oldie but goodie from our good friend Bobby Darin:
Well, take a look at that girl who loathes the boy’s green eggs and ham
He must be a wandering fool
He doesn’t see, his food isn’t cool
All the girls hold their noses and let him walk on by
She wants to be somebody else
She’d rather be somebody else
She’d just as soon kiss somebody else
She’s not dumb
He’s probably somebody’s only choice
Eats his Trix so moist
Yeahhhhh, he’s probably somebody’s last resort
As a couple of readers have acutely noticed, why the guys are in full uniform is anybody’s guess but why The Mayor probably has green eggs and ham in his gym bag is one $64,000 question that REALLY isn’t worth answering. What’s the consolation prize if I don’t answer it and not obtain my $64,000 cashier’s check? MORE green eggs and ham????
And did you notice that the relationship between The Mayor and Phoebe has suddenly went south? Get a clue, Mayor. Believe me, I have a sister and the phone used to ring off the wall at my house when we were teenagers for dates with her. If some guy was at a movie with her and was eating small curd cottage cheese and Honey Nut Cheerios and he washed it down with Movie Time Buttered from Goat’s Milk popcorn, that’d be the last time my sister dated that gentleman. And I’d be hearing it ALL NIGHT LONG how she got grossed out by his culinary diversions.
So yeah, Mayor, you might want to alter the scenery and get REAL food out of your Lazy Susan at home or in the cafeteria line. Don’t be mixing Nestle’s Quik and Brussel sprouts in your chem lab in your basement then trying to make a move on Phoebe. Scope Mouth Wash isn’t going to cover a multitude of digestive sins.
Because I am really not sure, after looking at a graph on how many times a word like, for example, “prevaricate” or “soupcon” was mentioned in 1820 or 1847 or 1901 or 1975, how they could measure something such as word usage at, say, The Bucket or The Golden Gate Bridge or the ferry carrying tourists to the Statue of Liberty
Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer
“O.J. Has Been Declared Missing By The Milford Civil Defense Commission, Finally Found At The Archives Department Of The Milford Public Library!!!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
“Me and Cochran were amazed. They used ‘velocitous’ that many times in 1876 at the Grand Canyon????”
And Mayor, get with it. Your cuisine is crock to other people. Phoebe is making it painfully obvious that your green eggs and lox is putting the damper on what could be a great relationship. I’d tell you to wake up and smell the coffee but it looks like you’ve already done that, straight out of the Folger’s can. Boy, that’ll get a date with Phoebe at the prom, fer sure.
Couldn’t you see the police report?
“I caught him free-basing Maxwell House behind the alley. He’s a sure trip to the Milford Rehab Center if the judge has anything to do with it.”
And it’s nice that Thorpiverse printed the score this morning. But a picture of a player bunting, another taking a bad cut at the plate, the baseball team looking stupid behind the chain link fence and The Mayor foisting his Green Eggs and Lucky Charms Protein Mix are really not the same as what you do on the field. There’ll be no Lucky Charms between the lines, Thorpiverse. Remember that.
I saw him gorging on his Wheaties that was pan-fried in P B & J
He must be eating on edge
Topped off with a potato wedge
And when the Pop Tarts and the pasta and the pork chops light up his butt
She’d rather eat in some other room
She’d rather skip his fart-thumping booms
She’d rather kiss a mossy-draped tomb
She’s not dumb
He’s probably somebody’s burned-out light
Flicker out tonight
Yeaaahhhhh
He’s probably somebody’s doggie bag
I try to shut my eyes but I can’t shake S’mores out of my mind
I beg this to be over and leave his Alpo far behind
I’m gonna walk up to him and overlook his diet pork rinds
And are we at The Mayor’s HOUSE or at one of the faculty lounges at Milford High School? Nobody can design a house so that it doesn’t remind me of a pot-luck supper at Milford Interdenominational?
Boy, do we have a whole wheelbarrow full of paraphernalia that we could cart to the back door of the Pantheon of Mysterious Objects. Crow and Tom Servo would be livin’ large.
To be honest, I was kinda glad to see Gazoo drop in and park his vehicle so it wouldn’t interfere with dinner. Great call, Gazoo. Gotta park it so we have a place for the bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy. We dont want to put the yams on the high chair now, do we? And I understand the spacecraft doubles as a flower pot. Flying around Deneb and Lyra and a receptacle for impatiens, your ship is very busy in the Spring, Gazoo.
Then WHAT is that thing with the M on it? A portable heater from Mudlark Heating & Air Conditioning???? Does he drag that damn thing around the house with his Wheaties? I’m sure he leaves it out in the hallway when he has to go to the bathroom. DO NOT haul that to the back seat of Muench’s bag of bolts.
Remember that commercial for Hanes Underwear when the young women were taught by Melba in this indoctrinating room that the boxers aren’t Hanes until ol’ Melba says they’re Hanes?
Well,
“Gil, what are you doing?”
“What’s it look like? The dumbasses at Mudlark Heating & Air Conditioning forgot to laser tag the air conditioner again and I’m not turning it on to “fan” until the “M” is on the grill.”
“Gil, as long as you can cool off in your recliner smoking your cigar and drinking your Moet and Chandon while listening to Duke Jordan’s “Flight to Denmark”, what’s the fuss?”
“Woman, you don’t know jackshit about quality. Did Custer go into battle with an hammer and sickle decorated on his flag? Rest my case.”
Special headline in the Milford Enquirer
“Police Raid At Thorp Residence Nets Interesting Find!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
“Cars out in front were part of a party that was intent on inquiring about the multiple usage of the word “perspicacity” at Tombstone in the 1880’s. Clanton Brothers were disallowed.”
And WHAT is the cookie jar doing at the top of the cupboard? Does The Mayor truly need a stepladder to get Chips Ahoy? What other reason could there be for this particular Mysterious Object to be positioned in the Mystery Location? I guess we can’t have Grandma Mayor come over and munch on Oreos while the roast is in the oven. It’ll spoil her dinner. I don’t know why it’s OK for The Mayor to sip on egg nog and celery but I reckon we have to have protocol somewhere. Nobody would ever eat the roast. The oven would then be one more place for Gazoo to park his contraption.
Well, those look like apples anyway. Granny Smith or Golden Delicious, I can’t remember which. I don’t THINK Thorpiverse would try to sneak Red Delicious plums on us and stack ’em in the bowl.
At the Thorp household one fine afternoon
“Gil, what is a Martian doing in our oven? Goes by the name Yahoo, I thought I heard him say. I was going to bake rhubarb pie.”
“Mimi, I told you that you should have sprayed down the oven with Pam.”
And in P3, Phoebe keeps throwing them and The Mayor keeps eating them. Is The Mayor eating a record album? Don’t get me wrong, Focus, essentially the Led Zeppelin from Holland, has always put out killer music with Jan Akkerman being the Jimmy Page of the group but ain’t no way I’m putting “Moving Waves” on the griddle. Ever heard of a phonograph, Mayor? No, you don’t set the oven dial on 33 & 1/3. I give the readership permission to shoot me if I ever grill The Rolling Stones’ “Exile on Main Street” on the Smokemaster, let alone thicken it with Kraft Barbecue Sauce. Mayor, as the album commands, you better scrape that shit right off your shoes. And your Thermos and album sleeve. Phoebe is pretty much saying the same thing but she’s a Christian and has to watch her language to stay under the radar of the sensors.
I got some inspiration. I read an article that said that Erectile Dysfunction is caused by the wrong side of the brain controlling our impulses. So THAT’S why my sexual life has never been like “Fast Times at Ridgemont High”. I kept reading
“We’ll be back to see how Rachel Ray basted that Turkey Flambe Swimming in Nutrament Bars after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”
At the Thorp household once again, after a dinner of fried quiche, cheese, and wine, with Nutrament Vanilla Bars for dessert with Gazoo as the honored guest
“I thought Gazoo would NEVER leave. Who wants to hear dirt about Fred Flintstone actually using X-Lax? Wilma can’t be that bad of a cook-”
“Mommy, why does Daddy have all these wires on his head?”
“What are you talking about?”
“He’s watching Gunsmoke and he’s trying to shock himself. He says he wants to be as hard as Matt Dillon.”
In the living room, Gil’s head looking like a switchboard
“Gil, why are there Christmas tree lights on your head?”
“Dillon, don’t let Miss Kitty say you’re as limp as the pony in your barn!!!!!! Stand up and be counted!!!!!!!!! Oh, hey, Mimi, I went to Milford True Value and got some wires, lights, and a small fuse box. One flick of the switch and I shock the left side of my brain into action. That controls your sexual prowess. Man, I get harder than the saloon doors. It works better than Doc’s cough syrup.”
“Mommy, if I took Robitussin, would I get erect?”
“No, Jaime, of course not. Gil, you’re embarrassing me. Take those wires off and I will show you a better way.”
“When Matt Dillon is being tested by Wyatt Earp about his manhood? If I had to drop my pants and have nothing to show for it at Tombstone, I’d deserve to get my ass blown off by the Clanton Boys too. This wiring connection keeps me connected and ensures proper blood flow. I can set my wine glass on it while taking a drag from one of Stone’s cigars. Amazing what technology can do.”
“Mommy, does that mean I can get hot flashes from Flintstones chewables and the batteries in my Barbie car?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Keri!!!!! Daddy is just a little misled. The plot has gotten to him. Gil, with the power of Alka-Setzer, you can plop plop fizz fizz your limp garden hose and make it spray all over the yard with these EREC-3000 Medications.”
“Mommy, is that like turning on the hose-”
“Tune in to Part 2 next week, ‘Matt’s Masculinity on the run at The Santa Fe Trail’ on most of these stations.”
“I have to wait another week to see if Dillon can overcome his ED and wipe out the Dalton gang? I paid $20 for this switchbox and all I got was same Bat channel and an itchy jock strap.”
“Gil finally listened to me. He took those EREC-3000’s and threw the wires in the trash. And Gazoo finally got back to his home in the Milky Way so there’ll be no more surprises when I light the gas stove. What’s even better is that Gil and I are having the time of our lives. Nice to get those Good Vibrations without having to buy light bulbs. Come down to Milford Men’s Clinic and get your own vibrations. With proven plans and treatments, isn’t it time YOU shake ‘n’ bake? Gil certainly doesn’t have to pan-fry anymore.
Gang, thank you for your input. Let me get those Oreos off the roof and show you my appreciation. BTW, I think the M Mystery Object is The Mayor’s oxygen tank. I guess I’d need it too if I ran short of breath from Twinkies and Ultra Slim Fast Melange.
Tomorrow’s headline in the Milford Enquirer
“Gonzo Pearl Is Found In Abandoned Coal Mine Shaft After Being Missing For 2 Weeks!!!!!!!!!”
sub headline
“I may need welder’s glasses for 2 months but I DID find out how many times ‘phantasmagorical’ was used from the caveman art on the wall.”
In Gil’s office where Coach Thorp is poring over the scouting reports for his next opponent
“Moving waves, the wind has left you and you are still in commotion
We are still repeating the word it has taught us, it moves our whole being to ecstasy
Waves, why do you all become excited and then all calm together…”
BBBUUUUURRRRRPPPPPP
BELCHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
“Gil, that’s the 7th Focus album you’ve consumed. And your doctor warned you to watch the sodium.”
“I know, Kaz. Gotta stop the binge-eating.”
I’d hate to have to see Kaz do the Heimlich Maneuver on Gil when “Round Goes The Gossip” is caught in his throat.
Been enjoying 80’s week on Marquis Network the past few days – tonight featured the “Sign Game”; where the Cubs rallied from a 9-0 deficit to beat the Astros 10-9 in 10 innings in late August 1989 to solidify their division title hopes. A fan in the stands had a spiral notebook keeping track of the number of runs they needed to tie and win, crossing off numbers as they kept getting closer. Every time the Cubs scored the camera would show the notebook again. It was as memorable as the game itself, hence my moniker.
Other memories include an appearance by a youthful Jim Belushi in the booth, (had no idea it was him at first sight and he even sounded different), the Shawn-o-meter in the bleachers, Harry singing the 7th inning stretch himself (no need for guest singers yet, woulda loved to hear Belushi give it a whirl anyway), 7 RBI’s by Astro Raphael Ramirez in a losing cause, bringing to mind the Willie McGee cycle game in another losing effort 5 years earlier in the Sandberg Game; and seeing players who died too young like Scott Sanderson and Ken Caminiti, reminding us how long ago 31 years was.
Well the girls softball team has traveled to Louisiana (them too?) to play the Tarpons of South Lafourche. I give up figuring out the logistics of this. I guess if gas is only a buck a gallon these days they can swing it.
P1 has a hitter somehow swinging at a ball, missing it by a hair, and still hitting it somewhere. Bad enough that she isnt even wearing gloves so her wrist will take the brunt of the ball, but how do you swing at a ball that close without instinctively bringing your hands in to at least get some of the barrel on it? And how close is the fence to the batter? Her follow-through will make a hole in the fence for sure.
P2 has a 3-player hug thats an optical illusion, much like P1. 2 panels, 2 shitty artwork efforts. Whose arms are around whose? And is Jamila wearing a batting helmet while celebrating her pitching effort? Why?
P3 – ahh the shiny glass floor where the spring douchbag (winter douchbag was flushed down the toilet last week) is saluting our old friend Phoebe for.. a minor sports accomplishment. Just like the guy scoring 12 points in basketball last winter, big freakin whip. Superstar? 3 rbi’s??
Jesus; who the hell would drive from the Bayou State to Michigan to play a freakin HIGH SCHOOL BASEBALL GAME??? Especially this time of year when the weather can change 4 times an hour in the Midwest? Nobody should have to travel longer then Christ hung on the cross on Good Friday just to play baseball. But Thibs does.
Thibs of course is Tom Thibidou , ex-Bulls coach who the Bulls couldnt wait to get rid of because he coached defense and won 60 games. They wanted Freddy Hoiberg and they got him. They got him all right. Freddy allowed more points in a half then Thibs allowed in a game. The Bulls were so bad they fired Freddy and replaced him with Jim Boylan. Not to be confused with the other Jim Boylan they had for a while. They got the wrong Jim Boylan. Only the Bulls.
Marty has his new laptop and what looks like an old tape recorder in P2. Hey Marty, if we Didnt dodge the snow, the game would likely be postponed.
Of course Mike Knapp not only is number 1, his number is the shortest and fattest 1 I’ve ever seen. I dont like the way he’s standing on the base; he should have his left foot on the third base side of the bag. Hard to believe we dont see one Thibs defender in P3. And that ad on the fence is for hot dogs but .. ops is what I read. Fill in the rest for me.
Nothing like a good old fashioned house party to close out the basketball season. In fact its not a bad idea for any team to do this. When I coached youth baseball we had a party at my assistants house shortly after we won the league title in ’98. Of course it was more like a victory party too but the thought was – lets get together one last time before we head our separate ways for the summer. I had some time to chat with parents I had mostly only spoken to on the phone all season, and it was a nice way to end the season.
And hey, one more chance to see Divot Head before he re-applies for kindergarten.
We find out that Chris was going to .. Tufts https://www.tufts.edu/ before he changed his mind and opted for Wisconsin. And since Alexa is gonna be a Hoosier, (guess she couldnt get a basketball scholarship with her low scoring totals) its only fitting that this plot ends with them still being rivals.
I suppose for a student of Chris’ stature, Tufts would be suitable for him. Not quite Ivy league, but still very small and private, its cost after aid is $33,000 a year, compared to Wisconsin “only’ costing $20,000. Maybe he figured he not only will be more on the map if he plays sports, he’ll have more dough in case he doesnt get drafted by the pros.
And thats the smartest audible we’ve seen since Gil introduced the veer.
He walked into Milford getting A’s and B’s
Aint no doubt about it was Gil he aimed to please.
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