This Week in Milford

July 9, 2019

Meanwhile, Back At The Ranch.

Filed under: ?, Milford Weirdos — tdrewhardin @ 6:06 am

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Oh, look. Family time at the Jansen household. Time to kick back, enjoy the Gerber Crushed Carrot Cake Mush Souffle Mama Jansen concocted and set out in one of the bowls. You sure she didn’t get Lassie’s bowl confused with the Turnip Surprise, well, never mind.

And before we go any further, don’t you get this sickly feeling that The Jetsons, er, Jansens(I was wondering why we didn’t see a space vehicle parked in the living room) is just a way to take up space in the next 2 months until The Football Chronicles returns for its 61st season in September? Better hurry and get your tickets before theater prices increase.

As a few TWIMers have mentioned, wasn’t this already said and done? Yes, Tiki could stay even though he was a legal resident in another city. As long as he had a venue to lay his head at night and didn’t languish in Hooverville, he could stay in Rockville. He didn’t have to worry about going back to Rockville cuz he was already there.

But that’s when Thorpiverse and the Milford School Board knocked heads on this one (not literally, though I wonder) and decided that the golf plot had run its course. So they rummaged the phone book for any more plot characters and once they hit a snag at Milford Pest Control (Where Termites and Golf Are a Dead Issue) and Mudlark Swimming Pool Supply, they said “What the heck, the Jansens weren’t going to Disney World or the Grand Canyon or anywhere else on vacation, why don’t we tear up that agreement we had with them and throw it in the fireplace at the Milford Moose Lodge and create another living nightmare worth 2 months of Bates Motel drama? We can kill off Norman Bates at the end of the summer by Tiki shooting him with a BB gun in self-defense and dumping his body in Mudlark Lake. It oughta sink to the bottom by the time Tiki turns in his physical for football. Then we won’t have to worry about extricating ourselves from another messy, convoluted golf plot. Just make sure you pass enough $20 bills under the table to the School Board at the meeting, Thorpiverse. The sooner the School Board can fire off that railroad job of a letter to the Jansens, the better. And you don’t want to cut into the 2 months that is getting shorter even as I text. Hurry before the mailman arrives.

And it’s time to play NAME THAT BOWL!!!!!!!!! And now, here’s your host WINK!!!!!!!!!!!!! MARTINDALE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! KING OF THE GAME-SHOW-BEFORE-COSBY-HOUR-APPEARS-AT-8:00PM(OR 7:00PM, CENTRAL STANDARD TIME)!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Now the bowl in the middle has to be some creature Dr. Spock speared on some planet in the constellation Orion. Those are the leftovers. And the one at the far end where the Invisible Man is seated is more than likely the azalea bush Mama Jansen yanked out of the ground with the backhoe and after offering the table d’hote to Mr. Ed, it became a part of the Public Domain. Surely someone has a rapaciousness for true organic cuisine. And you didn’t need to spray it down with DDT, Mama Jansen kept it in the oven at 475 degrees and, Hell, set it and forget it. It’ll get debugged the old-fashioned way.

Then there’s the mystery bowl. This could range from a huge porcelain container of Spaghetti O’s (how many cans did Mama Jansen buy at Milford Kroger? 10 for 10?) to a Betty Crocker Bundt Coffee Cake. Yup, better keep a lid on the latter. You be bitchin’ about the Milford School Board makin’ Tiki finally pay up all his parking fines in the Student Section at Milford High School or he’ll be takin’ the next train out of Rockville, through Petticoat Junction all the way back to his original residence in New Thayer and next thing you know, the Duncan Hines Coconut Supreme White Chocolate Torte got stale. Okay, Papa Jansen, you’re gonna call Hadley Ventura for a possible lawsuit (really, isn’t this script just writing itself? Is this how Mr. Ed got on the air?) but, damn it, put the lid back on the bowl when you’re done scooping your 3rd helping of Chef Boy-ar-Dee Mini Ravioli.

“Willllllbbbuurrr, would you paassssssss that bowl of tater tottttttttttttssssssssss?”

“Ed, you know that’s not in the script. The producer will get mad.”

“Neither is Coach Thhhooooooorrrppppppp coming overrrrrrrrr after Mimiiiiiiiiiiii burneddddddd the hard-boilllllleedddddd eggggssssssssss but sometimmmeesssssss ya gotta immpppppprrrrrrroooooooovise.”

Then there’s the bowl arrangement

I think this was the French Defense Opening employed by Jose Capablanca against Paul Morphy in an International Chess Federation-sanctioned match, before they went to the number system to indicate moves (e.g., k-e2, b(c1)-f4ch, etc.) . No, don’t even go there, Gang. Nothing to do with Bobby Fischer. He always started out P-K4 (p-e4, if you want to be iconclastic) . Notice the bowl of jimson weeds in the way. Unless that’s his opponent, then his opponent can always go en passant if Bobby dares move his bowl of hash browns 2 spaces but I think his opponent is contemplating bowl of Rice Krispies-KB6ch, K-E2, bowl of Stove Top Stuffing-E6mate. I read that pinning combination in one of Irving Chernev’s books. Or maybe it was Bruce Pandolfini.

Come to think of it, Capablanca might be using an  Indian Opening Variation. I just wish the Invisible Man would return from the bathroom. How long has he been in there? Is he that constipated? Chickweed will do that, I reckon.

And then we come to the part where we discuss Tiki’s hair. A Rug Rat variation replete with a skunk’s hide and a poor excuse for dreadlocks (E for effort, Tiki) hanging from it is about as tacky as Rug Rats was. Oh, I loved the cartoon but let’s not confuse it with “Wait ’til Your Father Gets Home.”

“Irma, do you realize how much it’s going to cost to move back to New Thayer?”

“Oh, Harry, we’ll manage. We’re cartoon veterans. We’ve seen worse strips in Buzz Sawyer. Remember when he found out that Roscoe Sweeney had come out of the closet?”

“I don’t blame you, Harry Boyle. I heard there’s more Commie spies per capita on any typical block in New Thayer than the whole city of Milford. You gotta watch ’em. Me and my vigilante group spotted an Iron & Sickle on a Slushee machine at a New Thayer 7-11 when we stopped to get gas.”

“Ralph, you keep out of this. Go give Coach Thorp pointers on his golf game. I heard Stalin was his caddy.”

 

If ya dump deer meat gizzards on the chinet paper plate cuz ya don’t want ta ruin good deer meat that ya shot in yore back yard by dumpin’ the contents in a Louis XIV porcelain bowl that ya bought at a yard sale last week and ya’d ruther suffer from Chinet breath, ya might be a redneck.

Oh, damn, I forgot about the OXO cups on the table. Definite Sicilian Defense, fer sure.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Defeated At Milford Chess Open By Invisible Man!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“”That dude employs the Caro Kann Defense and I fall for it everytime. Karpov killed me  at the Oakwood All-Comers Invitational.

 

Lordy, then there’s P2. Somebody needs to instruct Thorpiverse on the proper technique for hair coloring and/or light and shadow. Papa Jansen is passable, Ward Cleaver misapplying Grecian Formula at worst but, damn, you sure Tiki didn’t spill the bowl of Spaghetti O’s on his head? Thank we’ll probably never know as I didn’t see the colorized version. Groty to the max. There’s only so much I can take from a character who’s regurgitating the past but if he shows up in the hallways at Milford High School, he runs the risk of being stuck with the sobriquet Oreo Head.

And what could be causing Oreo Head to deserve this dubious appellation? Surely there’s not a strobe light flickering by the Stove Top Chicken Stroganof bowl or the chinet platter full of celery w/pimento cheese.

“Hey, you got pimento cheese in my cookies!!!!!!!!”

“And you got cookies in my pimento cheese!!!!!!!!!!

And to think.

 

WHAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Quick!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Call 1-FON-THE-JAWS!!!!!!!!!! Then call 9-1-1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Somebody just got decapitated!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“When accidents happen, isn’t it nice to have piece of mind when you call The Shark? Hi, I’m Joe Sharkey and I make sure people get the money they deserve.”

“I was in The Bucket drive-thru ordering a Bucket Chimichanga when a drunk driver slammed into us from behind, thinking he was at the Milford Beverage Warehouse and hoping to make it before it closed.

Thank God for The Shark. I got my head sewn back on, I got my back pay and lost wages from lost time at work. The drunk driver’s lawyer even picked up the tab on the Bucket Chimichanga which splatted all over the glove box. And he made sure I got mild sauce instead of the fire brand sauce to pour all over my replacement Chimichanga. Thanks, Shark.”

“You heard it from my clients. Insurance companies are working hard and past the time The Bucket closes to present a winning case. Don’t let them cheat you out of the money you deserve. Call The Shark today!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

The Baxendales are going conservative here. Definite Ruy Lopez. And they kept all the pawns covered. Let’s not let the Crock Pot of Sara Lee Apple Cobbler get cold while we’re discussing our options on the remaining years in the NBA. Talking about free agency and one of the teams whose offer intrigues you over a pot of lukewarm Fazoli’s fettucini that you got cuz The Bucket was out of it just doesn’t wash in the scheme of things.

And who knows what Morthead will do? The Bulls would be a good choice. He could hope they draft another Pippen and they can start their own 3-peat or 4-peat, etc. People with that intimidating Bull on their caps and “I Like Morthead” on their shirts, no wonder why Mr. Baxendale broaches the subject. Over Boone’s Farm Premium, no less. Oh, BTW, pass the Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls, Mr. Baxendale. And you might want to be careful leaving that platter of Oscar Meyer Fried Bologna exposed to the rook. No sense in getting smothered mate by one of the Boone’s Farm glasses.

Gang, I don’t know about you but that frickin’ quill that Thomas Jefferson used to sign at the signing of the Declaration of Independence just looks bad on Hadley Venison’s head. As long as we’re going to throw around NBA Lingo like Jerry Lawler used to throw Freezer Thompson around in the ring, can Hadley Venom give VO5 a try?

And whattup with the discussion of the NBA? I don’t think Air Jordan is showing up at the Baxendales next week for scones and tea. Steve Kerr does not have one of his vehicles parked in their garage. Luc Longley does not call long distance from Australia asking Hadley Vermouth how it went at the orthodontist. Nice try, Thorpiverse. This is just a diversion until we get to the real meat of the issue, Hadley Verkampfen battling Clarence Darrow at the Milford Municipal Court over where to attend school.

 

“Mr. Darrow, he should be able to teach evolutuion at Milford too!!!!!!!!!!!’

I’m sensing an oncoming Battle Royale.

 

Comment away, Gang. I think I can checkmate Mr. Baxendale once I queen my Paul Newman’s Ranch Dressing bottle. The King is dead.

 

“Hey Oreo Head!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You got Star-Kist Tuna in my Chips Ahoy!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Sorry, Charlie, but only the finest tuna-chocolate ship goulash gets to be Star-Kist.”

Managed to kill 2 birds with one stone. God, I’m good.

 

 

“Harry, you think Hadley Vladimir Ilyich Lenin will ever marry Jaquan? Because you just don’t mix the Commies with Old Glory. Huh?”

“No!!!!”

“Huh?”

“No!!!!!”

“Huh?”

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!! Look, Ralph, Jaquan is doing it the old-fashioned way. He’s earning a good living as a basketball player and is in a position to get married financially. Sounds like the American Way to me.”

“I don’t know, Harry, that Bull on his cap looks too much like Pancho Villa to me. He wins an NBA ring then the next thing you know he and Trotsky lead a revolution right into downtown Chicago. It’s only a matter of time before all the NBA cities come tumbling down. Then Milford High School starts adding The Little Red Book to its curriculum.”

“Oh, Ralph, you come up with the wildest ideas.”

“Just doing my patriotic duty to protect this country from Mao and all his family.”

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June 27, 2019

How Con-VEEEEN-ient!!!!! Hadley V. Is Back!!!!!

Filed under: big arms, Gil Thorp, Milford Weirdos — tdrewhardin @ 9:22 am

 

 

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Okay, we think Jaquan is only kidding when he says he’d like some golf lessons. We think. I know I wouldn’t be spilling my guts in front of an 8-year-old about how I keep slicing everything between the hedges or the poplars or the Midford Country Club Snack Bar tables unless it was in jest. But maybe he’s trying to pull another Bo Jackson on us. Y’know, another 3 panels, another hobby.

To be fair, it’s not entirely out of the question. Alice Cooper, of “School’s Out” fame (“School’s Out(album)” and “Billion Dollar Babies”, classic, you whippersnappers) , is an excellent golfer. I model a lot of my exercise program based upon his advice on how to get better in golf. He always got up EARLY, 6:00-ish in the morning because NOBODY was at the Milford Country Club Golf Course. Yup, Gil and Mimi were still in bed. It was the best time to be there because the weather in Milford was still cooler, plus NOBODY was there to give him advice, No Gil lecturing Alice on his follow-through while Gil was sipping on his cocktail. Alice could work out the kinks that way.

And it paid off. He was consistently golfing with the golf heavyweights (Arnold Palmer, Jack Nicklaus, et al) , gaining respect as a force to be reckoned with in the golf world. In fact, Arnold Palmer wanted him to go pro, good words from a man who knew a thing or two about winning the Masters, not to mention graduating from Wake Forest, a long-time powerhouse in Men’s Golf and Women’s Golf.

Alice Cooper definitely considered it but swallowed HARD and in the end felt that a serious devotion to the sport would take away from his ability to perform on stage. Which made sense. Trying to juggle working on golf for several hours and rehearsing for his next show and then letting all out in front of the bright lights to 10,000+ would have taken its toll on the body. In the end, Alice Cooper wisely declined.

But Jaquan, I don’t know. Hasn’t he already been through one hobby? What’s he going to do, work on his swing along with the other 8th graders in the instructional workout?

“C’mon, Case, grip the club!!! Look at Wally Cleaver!!!! He’s got a sleeper hold on his stick!!!!!!”

Gil working with a guy he didn’t coach in high school and trying to show him how to putt on #3, Par 3, straight shoot to the cup, being in line behind 7th graders with their Play-Doh putters, Goliath learning along with the Munchkins how to sink a 6-footer. Works for me.

 

 

“Church Lady, I just want to see what I got. I went over to the Milford Putt Putt and shot one through the cannon for a hole-in-one. Trey and Luhm and Pearse were there if you want witnesses. Heck, they’re more trustworthy than my ex-Bishop Tardy teammates. And I got the ball more often at the Milford Pro-Am Roundball Classic. Pearse dished the dimes to this phone booth.”

“WELL!!!!!!! Aren’t you SPECIAL!!!!!!! A man has the career golf game of his life ditching the crocodiles by shooting a direct line over the drawbridge at Putt Putt #7 and gets an epiphany exhorting him to ask Gil for lessons at the Milford Country Club because he is divinely entitled to them!!!!!!!!!”

“If I can shoot it through the maze at Putt Putt #9 and avoid The Minotaur, why not?”

“Young man (Church Lady rubbing her hands profusely and her right cheek swelling with its usual saccharine amount of piety) , you have no business sweating with the masses at the MCC Golf Course. ‘Suffer the children’ is right. You have no right to hack at a Titleist that causes Kylie and her other 8-year-old girlie girl friends to puke all over their 9-irons.”

“Luhm cleaned up the mess on the greens. He needs something to do when he’s not buffing the Mudlark gym.”

“But God couldn’t stand the stench. It ruined Last Supper. Stick to the NBA or God will slam dunk you with a lightning bolt.”

 

Now that Baxendale is back, something not entirely surprising to the TWIM readers, WHAT does the ‘V’ stand for? Vaya con dios????? That has been the $64,000 question ever since her persona was hatched about 14 years ago. Okay, so “Vaya con dios, a little more arch on the ball when you’re shooting free throws!!!!!” sounds melodramatic but taking a stab SOMEWHERE might help narrow down the mystery. And I think we can rule out “Viagara”. It’s hard for me to believe that was on anybody’s mind when she was being christened. “Valporaiso”. Possible. Her parents could have been reading a Rand-McNally Atlas on Indiana or Chile while trying to solve the mystery. “Hadley” and Valparaiso” on the birth certificate. Supposin’ it’s better than flipping to the Mexico page and designating her “Hadley Veracruz Baxendale”.

 

P1: “Sure, Kanamit Jaquan, I can teach you to work on how to rotate the hips on your drives. I’m not doing anything anyway. Just giving the kids a few tips and watchin’ the wheels go ’round and ’round. Like Lennon, I really love to watch them swing.”

“SUPER, I really need a few pointers before that Open back on our planet. You wouldn’t want to go along, would you?”

 

Jaquan and Church Lady get pulled over by Texas Ranger Studman Machomania Kent Walker Shaw

Wary of getting in trouble over Writ of Habeas Corpus

“I pulled you over cuz your driver’s side brake light is busted. What are you here fer, anyhow?”

“We came by to say hello to Coach Thorp. We heard he was coaching the kids at the Milford Country Club.”

“Alright, get out of the car, both a ya”

“I’m ‘rrestin’ ya fer 2nd Degree Perjury. I ain’t seen Gil do any coachin’ since ’79. Ya have a right to remain silent, if ya giv’ up th’ right ta remain silent…”

After Miranda is done

“Any questions?”

“Yeah, can she change out of that purple garb?? I don’t think I can stomach lookin’ at that at the Milford Detention Center. Nor her glasses.”

 

Writing out the arrest warrant

“Awright, say it again. How many O’s in ‘Velcro’?”

 

And P2 is interesting. Evidently, Church Lady a/k/a Hadley Vladimir Baxendale a/k/a soon-to-be Hadley Vladimir Baxendale-Case has surprised and stunned Gil to the point that the Exploding Eye Effect has caused him to drop his left eye on the ground. Sorta like losing a contact lens. And why should he be surprised? Who does he think he was dating, Alice the Maid? She could be a mother hen to the Brady Bunch but doubt she knew much about how to steer a jock from bolting early to the NBA to getting his degree in History.

“Oh, you’ll just love Pepperdine. I majored in Art History and did my Independent Study on Raphael. Did my field studies three times, one in Venezia, one in Napoli, and one in Fiorenze. Scored an A-. Genoa was to die for. I learned that’s where Raphael learned the law. He and Abe Lincoln were studying Art Law Theory. BTW, ya wanna throw all your dirty gym shorts in the hamper? I’m about to do a load.”

And we can eliminate Betty from Archie and the Gang. She is still in love with him no matter how many times he shits on her in favor of Veronica. Hell, Archie might have competition with Jaquan. Y’know how Mr. Lodge wants Veronica dating he-man macho jocks such as Jaquan. Made for Mr. Lodge giving her away at the altar. Betty is always available should that ever occur.

Sooooooooooooo, Jaquan and Church Lady, er, Hadley Veronica SHIT, Hadley V. show up to express their respects to the one person who has made Milwaukee, er, Milford famous by sitting in the chaise lounge while Kylie wins the Masters and snatches the green jacket away from Tiger. Then Gil goes to pieces, literally.

“No worries, Coach. Lenscrafters is running a BOGO special this week. Buy one eyeball at regular price, get the second one free.”

“Thanks, Church Lady. Got an image to protect. I can’t coach these Junior Golfers looking like Cyclops’ cousin. People might think we grew up together.”

“We like ourselves…..DON’T WE???????”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Denies Any Relationship With Church Lady After Seen At The Bucket Together!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Ain’t no way I’m gettin’ engaged to some granny with the worst-lookin’ orthopedic shoes since ‘Maude’.”

 

And, Gang, if no one else will say it I WILL. In p3, that has got to be the most raggedly looking hair color Hadley V. has worn since she graced the stage to put girls basketball on the map. I have LONG been a supporter of Women’s Athletics, our high school girls golf team garnering several State Championships, and I mean, all comers in the State, not Class A or Class AA, etc. I have supported the bench warmer up to the star of the team in any sport. I like how the college I follow has LONG made Women’s Athletics a priority.

That said, she looks like a St. Bernard. Is it necessary to streak her hair like that or is that one of the reasons Jaquan is attracted to her. I’ll concede she is very attractive but

“Man, the way you shake those hips and slobber at the same time really gets me going.”

Diff’rent strokes for diff’rent folks, I reckon.

I just couldn’t see Miss Kitty with that hair style at the Dodge City Saloon. It was bad enough she was just cannon fodder for the show while Matt Dillon executed any action. Sure, Matt going after the Dalton Gang while Miss St. Bernard washes the shot glasses. It may have lasted 20+ plus years with that formula but I turned it off after Dillon took care of the Clanton Boys and the next scene was Miss St. Bernard at the Amana Dishwasher.

 

At the Milford Football Stadium where Commencement is taking place

“…John William Barlow…”

“Congratulations, son, good luck at Harvard.”

“Thank you.”

“…Jennifer Marie Baumann…”

“Congratulations. Break a leg in the Navy.”

“Thank you, I will.”

“…Hadley Vanadium Baxendale…”

“Congratulations. We’ll see you in 14 years. Good luck at Milford Technical & Vocational College.”

“Thank you.”

 

Comment away, Gang. Some of you already have and I humbly thank you. You’re the reason for my posts, Y’all. Can’t do it without you.

 

“Harry Caray back in Wrigley talking with Hadley Vending Machine Baxendale. Vending Machine, congratulations on being promoted to general manager.”

“Thanks, Harry.”

“So what about the trade rumors involving Sutcliffe?”

“Not true. Rick has proven to be a major player in our plans and will play a mighty role in the future, #2 behind Steve Trout.”

“Vendy, are you looking to shore up the infield? I know Moreland can play a little 1st base but is that for trade bait?”

Waving off Steve’s cigar smoke with her hand

“Well. Steve, we’re on the table for anything, including Jaquan…”

 

Robmize will kill me if he sees me in Wrigley.

 

“Why do you come across so pious? You’re the most sanctimonious individual I have interviewed on WDIG Talk Radio.”

“Marty, I don’t know. It’s just that when I look at that beard, I ask myself, ‘Now who could he be? Could he be…SATAN??????’ But what was he doing at The Bucket for the “Bucket Shakes 1/2 Off Happy Hour? Perhaps demons can slurp one down too.”

June 20, 2019

The Rally Hippos Are Back And This Time They Want Your Attention.

Filed under: actual action, Milford Weirdos, softball, TCFS — tdrewhardin @ 1:47 am

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They’ve been dragged out of the gym bag to keep the world safe for Democracy and lead us onto Victory. In fact, the Russians used them to cheer on Rocky when he was returning the favor on Ivan Drago and beating him to a pulp. And they are recyclable.

That comes in handy when Gilligan stuffs the ballot boxes and tortures any dissidents who dare challenge his power. Should Andy Taylor and Barney Fife ever get stranded because the Mayberry Luxury Liner took a wrong turn at Albuquerque and wound up on the wrong side of the International Date Line and shared the same fate as the S. S. Minnow, they’re toast. Premier Gilligan will have them lined up on the firing line before you can say “Thurston Howell”. All because Barney forgot to stuff a hippo in the Liner’s luggage rack.

And I remember an obscure episode from Alfred Hitchcock Theater where this nutcase is driving a psychiatrist up the wall throughout the show due to quirky behavior that doesn’t deserve the chair but is enough to wind up on the shrink’s couch.

However, the nutcase goes too far when he has this shoebox in his arms and threatens to push the button, which is on the shoebox and presumably is harboring a bomb inside. Of course, he does it somewhere on a street corner where he scares the daylights out of the shrink and the general public.

Well, the shrink manages to get the nutcase to come to his senses, relatively speaking. The police, having none of it, are just about to cuff him and haul him away when, not so fast, says the nutcase. I didn’t say I’d detonate a bomb, I just said I’d push the button. The police, done in by a case of semantics, the shrink helpless to declare this nutcase a true nutcase, are forced to let him go free.

Now Hitchcock wasn’t about to foment an uprising by letting a psycho go free and continue his Buster Brown Shoe Box Bomb Scares at the Milford Mall so at the end of the show, Hitchcock would announce that our friendly psycho was, say,  caught robbing the S-Mart later on, taken to the Milford Detention Center for further questioning.

And so when I saw the scenario in P3 yesterday, I thought of that episode.

“I didn’t say Wellington WON, I just said ‘1-0, Wellington’.”

“Fine, will you put the Florsheim box down?  You’re making the Lady Mudlarks nervous.”

“Gil, only if you promise to invite me to your verandah for some prime rib off your Smokemaster grill and a cold glass or two or three of Country Tyme Lemonade.”

“Deal.”

“And Mimi wears that bikini she wore when she worked part-time at Hooters.”

“You got it. Anything else?”

“Yeah, you know where I can get a program of the game?”

“I think they still have several left by the mustard bottles by the concession stand.”

 

And I’ll admit yours truly thought Wellington was going to raid Milford and head outta town sneakin’ away a victory but noooooooooooo, if that’s to happen or no, we won’t find out today, we didn’t find out YESTERDAY and I’m not holding my breath on tomorrow, given the attention the Rally Hippos have commanded. They certainly know how to interrupt any Kirk Gibson Moment in Time.

In fact, when Willie Mays made The Catch, do you really honestly think he wound up with a BALL??????

“I can’t get this Hippo out of my glove. Where’s the equipment manager? And tell him to bring a screwdriver.”

 

Seen in some Fin de Siecle edition of the Milford Enquirer

“How Did The Rough Riders Take San Juan Hill? The Hippo Knows!!!!!!!”

sub head line

“Dr. Pearl’s father. Lt. Col. Thaddeus Wilcox Pearl, led Milford’s regiment right behind Teddy even as Dr. Pearl served as a nurse in Barton’s tent.”

 

Oooooooooookkkkkk, we are puttin’ on our Rally Hippos!!!!!!!!! Robocop, er, Linda Carr managed to draw a walk with Milford still in contention, and, honestly, were we expecting ANYBODY ELSE? The damn strip is only alloted 3 panels at a time and if the hecklers got to be too much when Bozo the Clown coaxes 4 balls and a free pass down to first base (Remember, you can’t defense a walk to Barney Rubble) , you can’t get 3 extra panels and overlap them into Dilbert. Bozo and Dilbert on first, nah, that ain’t right, Bozo’s on first, Dilbert’s on second, I Don’t Know’s on third, or something to that nature.

Be that as it may, Linda Carr, fresh from freeing herself from the Autocracy of Gilligan and his iron-handed rule in Australia, is on the bag, representing the tying run. Darn, the script didn’t shoot this lame horse with Linda not paying attention and getting picked off the bag. Of course, that’s just speeding up the scheme of things until Gil and Mimi and the Psycho enjoy Miller Time on the verandah, er

COME ON, LINDA!!!!!!!!!!! RAL-LEE!!!!!!!! RAL-LEE!!!!!!!! RAL-LEE!!!!!!!!! RAL…..

 

 

 

 

Come to Sycamore Island on Corydon Pike in New Albany, Indiana. They are across the road from my dad’s business and have been around for eons to take care of the fisherman or the hunter in the family. If you need that fishing rod or hunting bow right quick, chances are, Jim Proctor, the owner, has it in stock or will die try to get it for you. AND the Pay Lake is well-stocked to satisfy people eager to nab one out of the water. That place is ALWAYS busy. I oughta know.

Come see for yourself where Jim and his friendly staff are there ready to take care of you. That’s what Small Businesses do. And they DEFINITELY know my name. Isn’t that what this is all about?

Support Small Business. Keep America great.

 

Would you like to say something before you bat

Volleyball is sunken somewhere in Mudlark Lake

 

 

I couldn’t bring myself to tolerate the offal that was thrown

Gil’s hair is justly permafrosted and lying in some cave

We watched the hippos dancing and lost a bloody year

 

 

And I-I-I-I-I-I-I would like to knowwwwwww

How does it feel

How does it FEEL

 

Bah,

Bah bah bahhhhhhhh

Bah bah bah, BAHHHHHHH

Bah bah-de-bah

 

Goodbye to you

Golf season’s due

I’ve stood this plot for one year

 

Gotta feed my Floyd Fix

It’s “Summer ’68” off of Atom Heart Mother, you whippersnappers.

RIP, Richard Wright. Your organ and piano and general keyboards were killer on songs such as “Us and Them”, anything from “Animals”, “Eclipse/Brain Damage”, etc.

 

If ya yank yore Rally Bloodhound out of yore Rural King gym bag that’s still got the price on it because yore Thursday Night Men’s Slo-Pitch Light Industrial League team is puttin’ on a ferocious rally against Milford Tool & Die, espeshully cuz no new inning cain’t start after 11:00PM, ta accommodate them that’s gotta work third shift, all fer braggin’ rights fer one year and a case of Stroh’s Select, ya might be a redneck.

 

Does she or doesn’t she? Man, what color, what brilliance, such elan to watch this soar to new heights…all right, lay off, this is not a Clairol ad, it’s Carla layin’ some wood to the ball (Those tips by the Madison batters at Milford Batting Cages & Driving Range paid off, whattya know) , pretty good form and angle at that. Yet, we gotta wait until at least TOMORROW to see if she pulls a Kirk Gibson and performs the Home Run Trot, complete with Pulling the Bow while she’s rounding second base, or if this is just warning track power.

I feel like Theseus trying to negotiate this Labyrinth that is this softball plotline, thankful that I have this thread to clutch in case the person or thing or whatever pops out of the Journalism Room and it isn’t Ms. Rizk. Granted, she should get a life but you wouldn’t think her mien would be altered, ya think…

Vin Scully with the call

“They’re bringing Eckersley in to face Gibson. The last time this happened, well, you have to go alllllllll the way back to 1961, when Sandy Koufax faced Roberto Clemente, the latter fresh off the DL, on a full moon night and the Dodger Stadium popcorn machine flickering for its life…”

THERE’S A DRIVE, WAY BACK, IT MIGHT BE, IT COULD BE—-

AAAAAAHHHHHHH, THERE’S THE MINOTAUR!!!!!!!!!!!!! WHERE’S MY THREAD?????? GOTTA GET BACK TO THE CAFETERIA ASAP!!!!!!!!!! IT DOESN’T LIKE THE FOOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

At any rate, the Lady Mudlarks have a lot riding on tomorrow(?). Stay tuned.

 

“They’re bringing in a pinch hitter. I don’t think it’s Gibson. I’ll have more in a moment. There’s 2 out, a runner on first, with score, Wellington, 1, Milford, zippo, you’re listening to Marty Moon, the voice of WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

DON’T NOBODY MOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’LL PUSH THE BUTTON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Coach Shaw, I know I can be a hardass sometimes but put down that Air Jordan shoebox and let’s talk.”

DON’T COME ANY CLOSER, GIL. I’LL BLOW THIS WHOLE MALL TO SMITHEREENS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Well, while you’re scaring everybody here in the Food Court, will you at least tell us what is wrong? I’m starving for some Fish ‘n’ More at Long John Silvers and I think I deserve an explanation as long as you’re delaying lunch hour. Some of us have to get back to class, we can’t all come and go in the strip when we damn well please, y’know.”

Coach Shaw, seeing Gil’s point, clings to the shoe box but takes middle finger off the knob

Then his head sags slightly

“My wife said I needed to take my significant other to Milford Lathe Works and get it shaped to be a bed leg cuz it wasn’t doing no good in bed. Something Clemenceau slept in during the Treaty of Versailles.”

“That’s ALL your problem? You threatened to blow up the Milford Dippin’ Dots stand because you couldn’t pump like you used to pump iron when you were in high school?”

“Shame, ain’t it?”

“Shaw, if you’ll dump the Air Jordans, I can slam dunk your Erectile Dysfunction problems by taking you down to the east wing, between Milford Jeans Outlet and Payless Shoes, where Milford Men’s Clinic is located. There, they have the latest technology and medicines, tailored to fit your needs and follow through with a program that will get you as hard as new. And now, for a limited time, they have the testosterone drug, Flexidol, an injection intended to air that flat tire in a minute when she’s bending over in that bikini when she’s doing the laundry but gentle to bring your significant other for a safe landing when you’re ordering the Whopper w/Cheese Combo here at Burger King in the Food Court. No sense in people chomping on a Wendy’s Chicken Club wondering if that’s a Russet Potato growing out of your crotch.”

“I’ll go on one condition.”

“You got it.”

“Can you loan me some money to post bail?”

 

“Well, this story had a happy ending. The Milford Mall agreed to drop charges against Coach Shaw if he would undergo Court-ordered treatment, an 18-month program at the Milford Men’s Clinic, and the intense therapy that accompanied it. It’s a Dog Wash for his significant other, in other words. Plenty of Lassie Shampoo on this limp garden hose that will grow up to be a man.

Come see for yourself at Milford Men’s Clinic. And leave your Gucci shoe box at home.”

 

Have at it, Gang. I can wait until the 2020 Presidential Election to see if Milford pulled it out. Bought plenty of popcorn.

 

“The ending of oww-er stawry was nawt completely devoid of bad tidings, my frehnds. Gil and Mimi wroh–tt their ohhnn ending and the Lady Mudlahh-rrks won the champion-ship, beating Wellington, 36-1, in a, to quohh-tt you Americans, cake (slight pause) walk. And they dumped the bawdy of Mr. Moon in Mudlahhrr-kk Lake. The Psycho mehhh-tt his match with Don Everly. That is awwll. Good night.”

 

 

OMG, WHERE’S MY FLEXIDOL

“You can look but you can’t touch. Or I WILL push the button. Eat your ground round before it gets cold. And you’re spilling Bud on the verandah.”

May 17, 2019

And yada yada yada.

Not gettin any better folks… I was not a big Seinfeld fan, but it was very well known as a show about nothing. I saw just enough episodes that I kinda get that. They dont really have a plot, its just a half hour of 4 characters screwing around every which way, and the best part, (for me anyway) was Jerrys comedy bits at the beginning and end of each show, where he’d make some vague connection to the action of the show. I remember one episode where he said ” If you’re watching something on TV, you’re missing something else.” Ever since then when I’d be forced to miss some show or game I would remember Jerrys words, and be comforted that nobody can be everywhere all the time. You do what you can, and everything else takes care of itself.

Well I have lost track of who all  these people are. Linda, David, Nancy, Molly…….I can name the Banana Splits easier then these bozos. .Too many characters in 1 plot who intertwine their nonsense about some abstract concept like TCFS. And maybe Linda and David THINK they did something cool. Thats all that counts. I’m just floored that 17-year-olds spend that much time on such BS. By now my friends would forget about the whole thing and be on to something thats more tangible, like what movie is playing or who the Bears should draft. One time my friend was talking about the foosball game he played the night before. 2 days later I brought it up, and he was like – “You’re still on that foosball”. But 2 days isnt like the weeks-long sludge this has become. Its a plot about nothing, and this time there’s no Jerry Seinfeld around to relieve the boredom.

May 11, 2019

TCFS Goes To Eleven

gt05112019

Well it doesn’t stand for Top Cat or Twin Cities, that much is certain. Then again, maybe Molly’s related to Mickey. But what the hell kind of thing is she placing in Jamila’s enormous, Ernie Lombardi-like hand as she stands on a classic Nelson bench?  Is it some kind of challenge coin? The equivalent of a merit decal? They put those on batting helmets now, dontchaknow. Or is it a merit decal in pog form?

You know how I know Rubin sees this blog? Yesterday’s Molly Hatchet joke would be a big clue, but he could’ve been planning that from the get-go. No, it’s his response to our steady complaints about the lack of strong female characters in this strip and of story arcs that focus on girls’ sports. What do we get in return? Several months of this drivel. This had potential: internal team strife between girls who have varied outside interests and girls who are monomaniacally focused on the game gets ironed out as the girls come together and start winning. By turning them into unintentional mean girls who form a clique by beating an already dead horse of a phrase even deader (five times in the past week, eleven total in the arc to date), Rubin is flirtin’ with making a mockery of the whole concept.

May 10, 2019

Girlfriend, your flirting is too cool for..

Filed under: Gil Thorp, lame jokes, Milford Weirdos — robmize2013 @ 11:04 pm

…oh forget it. Just enjoy the song.

 

May 4, 2019

That’s Six “Too Cool for School”s If You’re Counting

gt05042019

Long day for me and an uncharacteristically late post, mea culpa.  Today’s the day for people on the perpendicular, starting with the first panel’s awkward hallway exchange.  I’m pretty sure when you go to high-five someone you don’t karate chop them across the palm, but then that’s why she’s the athlete and he’s… some rando MHS student.

The ninety-degree approaches continue in the cafeteria, where Molly Hatchet turns her upper torso and dislocates her left shoulder to face high-five girl (Carla? Nancy?) at a right angle. All the better to feign interest in high-five girl’s exasperation at getting attention for being good at sportsball.  I do find her inability to remember who threw the awkward high-five at her confusing, if only because I’m never quite sure how big Milford is.

On to the Saturday cliffhanger, which hinges on that dead horse of a phrase.  Molly (sporting an earring straight out of one of Raven’s progressive matrices) gets ready to drop a bombshell that has something to do with being “too cool for school.” Something tells me her synchronized skating team has been chosen to demonstrate that sport for the next Winter Olympics, and the prep for that will take her away from Milford for the next year-plus.  With Molly gone, morale on the Lady Mudlarks may crumble to the point that a Rally Hippo won’t be able to save the season and the playdowns will be missed just in time for Molly to come back and get a looper’s job at the MCC.

Again, apologies for the late post.

May 3, 2019

Shadow dancing

I want to start out by saying thanks to teenchy for filling in for me due to my mothers passing. She lived 93 years, her childhood was during the Depression, after high school she immediately got a job at a chemical plant, where she worked for 14 years. She wanted to try college, but her brother had recently been shot down over the Pacific during World War II, fighting for his country, and her father wanted his kids to stay close to home after that. So off to work she went, until meeting and marrying my dad in 1957, after which she quit her job and became a stay-at-home wife. In those days women often only worked if they werent married. My dad supported the family on his paycheck, the norm back then. 8 years afterward they adopted me from Chicago, and my sister joined us 2 years later. And we became a family in every sense of the word, and Mom was our heart and soul. Me and my sister could never repay those two for the difference they made in our lives. 48 years of happy marriage ended with my dads passing in 2005, and now with Mom joining him, again, they can rest assured knowing we will live  our lives with their love in our hearts.

To the strip– this hippo in P1 reminds me of Barney Rubble always getting his thumb in the way when he was taking pictures in one episode of the Flintstones. I thought at first it was an inkstain. Nope, just a shadow of a hippo.The sun couldnt do that if it tried.

I also recall the Angels in 2002 having a rally monkey, which they used on the way to a World Series title. Stupid, but hey, whatever works. I believe current Cub boss Joe Madden was with them.

Well it seeems to be working, if only for the hokey reason that its a comic strip and we need a reason for this hippos existence, aside from blotting out P1. Why not let the kids believe it works, even though logic dictates that hitting and pitching win games, not stuffed animals. Positive mental attitude never hurts anyones performance either.

 

 

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