This Week in Milford

November 17, 2017

And assholes hole.

Filed under: Milford Idiots, Milford Weirdos — robmize2013 @ 8:13 pm

The Gary ‘Its All About Me” tour continues with his proclamation that he’s salted the mine with Ricks singing performance at homecoming. Therefore anyone with a computer from Antarctica to Zaire (the country, not the store) will be able to watch him at a moments notice, although 99.99999 percent of them not only wont give a crap, they’ll forget about it 10 seconds after its over so they can watch something else. So Garys plan to make Rick rich and famous (in that order) stands to fail miserably.

As long as the cannon that Gary should  be shot out of doesnt also fail miserably. He will hopefully land in one of the following places:

  1. The moon. (Only time we’d see him is during a solar eclipse)
  2.  The bottom of the ocean right next to the remains of the Titanic (Raise the DouschBag!)
  3.  Gilligans Island
  4.  In a sharks mouth (Hey, a clowns mouth would do but he already has one on his face)
  5. In Marty Moons crate.
Advertisements

November 11, 2017

I Routinely Wear Glasses And I Swear That I Never Do That…

Filed under: freak hands, Milford Weirdos — timbuys @ 9:37 am

111117

Maybe I just need to up my evil game… The notion that Uncle Gary is sitting at the kitchen table, tapping away at his laptop and sipping coffee, almost exactly as I am right now, would be more disconcerting if I weren’t clean shaven.

Panel 1: Pretty creepy.

Panel 2: Super creepy.

Panel 3: This is all a little too much to take in on a Saturday morning.

Enjoy your weekend everybody!

November 9, 2017

Nice to Know Somebody Likes Something About All of This

gt11092017

There’s an underlying aura of creepiness that I can’t exactly put my finger on about today’s strip. Is it Trainer Rick Scott’s “I like what I see here” as he lovingly cradles Rick’s bare foot and calf? Is it that Uncle Gary (and his enormously oversized Bluetooth earbud) has a posse of the equally underemployed to roll out YouTube videos at his command? Is it Rick waving his arm like Evita Peron* as he sings the national anthem? Or is it the idea of rando Milfordian’s grandpa’s browser history that led him to Rick’s performance?

*It doesn’t take much to imagine Rick singing “Don’t cry for me, Milford High School…”

metapost: Weird double post this morning. Hopefully I fixed it.

November 4, 2017

The Easily Swayed Dr. Pearl

gt11042017

….Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand we’re right back where we were last Saturday. Gil can resist Uncle Gary’s relentless Astroturfing, but Dr. Pearl apparently cannot. One might think that the administrator, with her fancy book-learnin’ and cushy desk job, would cast a more jaundiced eye toward the email campaign – starting with finding out who is sending them.

Makes me wonder what Uncle Gary’s firing off in those missives on his teeny tiny laptop with his freaky deaky hands:

Pearl, Pearl, Pearl,

Come be my lovin’ girl

Don’t you marry Lester Flatt

He slicks his hair with possum fat…

 

November 2, 2017

I Was Hoping It Was His Gary, Too

gt11022017

Milford was up 10 on Madison day before yesterday. Did they score to make it closer? We’ll never know. We’ll miss out on a trip to The Bucket too since we have to ride home with Rick Soto’s mom and Uncle Astroturf. Fill in the blank: what was Uncle Gary’s glad it’s not his? Talk amongst yourselves.

Rick will get his big chance to sing the national anthem at next week’s game since he can’t play in it. (Nice cameo today by the late Bernie Casey as Rick’s real doctor.) Hopefully it’s a home game or else Gil, Dr. Pearl & co. will have to go through more machinations to help Rick pull that off. Such suspense!

October 14, 2017

“That sort of thing” = “Your mom”

Filed under: football, Gil Thorp, hideous scar faces, Milford Weirdos — teenchy @ 12:34 pm

gt10142017

My internal clock has been thrown off since Thursday night into Friday morning thanks to something a drugged-out Strat-O-Matic player might have created. I’m sure some of us here might have enjoyed that, but I can’t count myself among you. Alright, now that’s off my chest, on from one slowly unfolding train wreck into another.

Seems like only about a week ago I was posting about a hideous scar face with a goatee. Uncle Gary kicks it up a notch with the creeper grin; all that’s missing is the handlebar mustache to twirl with a “Nyah-ah-ha!” Does it seem creepier still that he calls Rick’s mom by her first name when referring to her to Rick, instead of “your mom”? (I think it’s been established that they are siblings.)  “That sort of thing” includes playing father figure while watching your nephew and his teammates square off against a fairly decent team from Omaha and constantly suggesting he’s been concussed.

An oily, underemployed lawyer-cum-agent-wannabe seeking to exploit his nephew was bad enough: a possibly incestuous oily, underemployed lawyer-cum-agent-wannabe seeking to exploit his nephew is just piling on. Note to Rubin: Can we ever have a kid with talent in the Thorpiverse without having an adult there trying to make a buck off of them? That angle is as played out and tiresome as a Washington baseball team folding like a house of cards every October.

October 13, 2017

Trust me, you’re full of c**p

When I was in high school we had a thing called Career Day where various reps from careers ranging from artist to zookeeper would come in and we would gravitate toward the field(s) of our interest and hopefully get a taste of the field before we decided to either pursue it as a major in college or as a future job etc. I cant recall who I visited but rest assured it was nothing of the sort of work I wound up doing, which I’m sure is the case for most people.

Some years later in my school newsletter I got as an alumni they had a blurb about the upcoming Career Day and a short list of which fields they needed to fill for the event. On the list:  Singer. My eyes froze.

Really!  Someone in a high school that was 90% college prep was gonna take all that algebra, world history, calculus, and physics education he/she was getting and turn it into a career that is mostly self-employed and mainly requires long hair, tattoos, and drugs as well as late-night gigs with a band and no guarantees of anything financially secure plus you need to hire (and pay) an agent to promote your sound and schedule gigs. Its a hard and mostly difficult life and all but the very few who actually make a profit are soon left with nothing but debts and sore throats. Plus some cool tats. But I digress. I was imagining someone from Twisted Sister (like Dee Snyder) coming to the school and everyone dropping who they were visiting to see him. Too funny.

The strip basically is about Garys pipe dream that Katie should be a singer; I thought Rick was the one singing. And who’s Connie?? Who’s he pointing at in P3? Somebodys mom? Whos mom?? When are they gonna play another game? Whens the bonfire? What does Millard West high school have to do with any of this??

And how  the fuck does being in LA for 20 years qualify you to determine that a dude singing 1 song in a high school cafeteria should be a professional singer??

 

October 10, 2017

Rock The Fight Song

101017

We certainly didn’t cover much ground in today’s strip which causes me to ask why, if he is sincerely adamant in his refusal to sing, Rick (or as he is endearingly and dehumanizingly referred to as ‘No. 71’) is already standing under the hamburger sign?

Obligatory video:

Older Posts »

Blog at WordPress.com.