This Week in Milford

March 24, 2020

“If You’ll Throw In The Shadow People Singing ‘Pomp And Circumstance’ A Cappella, You Got A Deal”

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In the halls and in the gym

Everywhere

Cafeteria and rooms so dim

God, I swear

Always grace the scene on a whim

The silhouettes, I declare

 

They sit and stare

They

Sit

And

Stare

 

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Come to bear

 

We should have known better than to assume that Thorpiverse was going to wrap this up any time soon. Like, what was Mrs. Brown Haired Counselor going to do, shoot Alexa cold dead with a Magnum and award Valedictorian to Chris by default? Gotta hand it to Thorpiverse. Cut that Gordian Knot and get baseball started sometime this week. Wouldn’t put it past Thorpiverse, but no, odds are this’ll get dragged out to The Bitter End. Being a Husker Du fan, they had a CD called The Living End. Both concepts have one song in common. It’s Not Funny Anymore. Put the gun away, ma’am, and let us continue to our exercise in boredom.

You would assume that Gil is getting the field ready for baseball, ditto Mimi in softball. I’d hate to know Gil is under the desk eavesdropping and making sure things are kosher. Wouldn’t want another Teddy incident. If you want to report to Dr. File Cabinet Instead of a Grandfather Clock in her Living Room Pearl that there is no need to flunk out and suspend an honor student for academic dirty pool, you gotta lay low behind the hydrangea plant and ensure academia is on the level. No more hot SAT booklets sold over the border for drugs and cash. Milford High School has an image to protect.

And once this scenario FINALLY lays to rest, there’ll be Gil at the ball park with his Milford jacket and cap on. Like he’s been sitting in the dugout for days, waiting for the cameras to roll. Then he’ll recite all the players he has coming back. Thank God this strip is alloted 3 panels. We’d be subjected to a listing of the players strengths and weakness, plus who can line the field when he isn’t pitching on a piece of paper he obtained from a Snickers wrapper that was in the trash can that Luhm failed to dump thoroughly. Mimi does the same thing but she usually buys steno pads to bore us to tears.

We still have to get through Chris and Alexa and based upon the streak that seems to be an omen, baseball or softball won’t start tomorrow. They still have to discuss why that streak always shows up whenever there’s controversy in academics. Never in athletics. When did you EVER see that streak on the gridiron or the basketball court or the badminton arena? 10-team Mudlark Wrestling All-Comers Classic? Nope, the streak won’t appear on the mat.

So we patiently wait for Chris or Alexa to pull the Windex out of his or her pocket while poring over the small stuff relating to academics. All in good time. I hope Gil’s cap doesn’t get wet. You know about this fickle weather in March. Hell on a guy sleeping in the dugout.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Chris Pops The Question In High School Cafeteria!!!!!!!! Sketches Proposal With Bowie Knife On Picnic Table!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“O.J. : ‘This ceremony is happening over my dead body.”

 

“Really, I suggested killing the plot a month ago. Nobody told you?”

 

They dress like The Blob or Siamese Twins

Black as gold

Threaten to eat all and next of kin

They’re so bold

Mimi and Gil better take a spin

Silhouettes never grow old

 

That’s what I’m told

That’s

What

I’m

Told

 

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Never grow old

 

Oh great. We COULD be stumbling into baseball or softball, depending which one drones on the best for, oh, 4 months, but NOOOOOOO we have to get sidetracked by The Lake House. Yeah, like Keanu Reeves, we’re about 2 years behind on things. Chris ought to be getting the grade he received on his Advanced Chem final from Harvard any day. And Alexa will get the MVP Award after leading UConn to the National Championship in Women’s Basketball. The trophy ought to be delivered to her house by Milford UPS right on schedule. I understand Coach Auriemma mailed her a letter begging her to stay another year. Good forwards are hard to come by. And to think, all this backward history can be traced (pardon the ignoble pun) to Mimi teaching her that grades are like points, nobody’s going to give you free cars or $100 handshakes if neither one is very high. And that’s assuming you’ll even get a scholarship.

 

“…this is the way it should be for lovers

They shouldn’t go it alone, oh no…”

Then with Chris delivering about the lamest confession in quite some time, going by Thorpiverse years, is that Paul McCartney’s “This Never Happened Before” playing over the cafeteria speakers? I’ll know for sure when I see two or more cafeteria ladies start to slow-dance with each other and get all kissy-faced. The Lake House had that effect. We presume this is NOT going to happen between Chris and Alexa. Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock are simply going to negotiate co-Valedictorian terms and leave The Lake House for Marty and Peaches. They put their deposit in 2 years ago, Chris and Alexa better wrap this up.

“Ohhhh, Melba (kiss, kiss) I’m so sorry for saying you stack the Hostess Twinkies on the rack (kiss, kiss) like dirty Holiday Inn towels…”

“And Rayette, I’m sorry (kiss, kiss) if I told you you cook the pork fritters (kiss, kiss) in a bowl of Pennzoil…”

THIS NEVER HAPPENED BEFFFFOOOOORRRREEEE

 

If yore waitin’ for yore high-powered Winschester with sights that could knock a bobby pin offa Gil’s hair that ya ordered 2 years ago frum Milford Guns and Ammo cuz they didn’t have it in stock and yore still waitin’ another 6 months for the plot and the bullets to come ’round so yuz kin do some huntin’ in tha woods behind Gil’s Pure Pork Sausage plant, ya might be a redneck.

 

“…and now I seeeee

This is the way it’s supposed to be…”

 

“Whhheeewwweeee, it’s getting cold. This aluminum bench is Hell to sleep on. Better get another jacket out of the trunk. I hope Mimi stuck that leftover On-Cor Boneless Grilled Steaks in the oven when I come home tomorrow morning. War is Hell.”

 

“…so come to me

Now we can be what we want to be…”

This Paul McCartney Romantic Moment is brought to you the new movie “Bill Nye The Science Guy: Teaching The Periodic Table in Milford High Freshman Chemistry.” What could have been a magical moment and had been the second coming of Keanu and Sandra and thereby salvaged a lackluster basketball season plunged in the salvage itself.

We are forced to whip out our calculators and watch romance morph into a trig table. Not that I, or anyone else for that matter, was really expecting Chris and Alexa to kissy-face like the cafeteria ladies, er, Keanu and Sandra. If it WERE to occur, Keanu and Sandra would have to detour to MIT.

“And if you use standard deviation, you’ll find my love for you isn’t wavering all that much. It was never in Ms. Rizk’s typewriter having no life…”

“Oh, Keanu, the fact that we are just points from each other, well, like Springsteen

“Two hearts are better than one

Two hearts, girl, get the job done”

“Atta way to use the FOIL method on our relationship, Sandra. We’ll be trinomials by the time baseball gets around. We’ll have little polynomials running around The Lake House”

“The stork ought to be delivering our polynomials anytime. Remember that time when we learning natural logs together two years ago?”

 

The scriptwriter for The Lake House that graduated from Rose-Hulman got fired. He’s now writing Trigonometry Today textbooks for the Valley Conference High Schools.

 

Lumped like coal and having no name

Anonymous

Walking in stride, the gait’s the same

Synchronous

Makes a tarantula look tame

In the woods, they’d be wild game

Seeking to maim

 

Seeking

To

Maim

 

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

Silhouettes

SILHOUETTES

They all look the same

 

ALL

LOOK

THE

SAME

 

And under the category of Pantheon of Mysterious Objects, that thing on the wall in the cafeteria in P3 can simply be nothing other than a heating unit. We gotta keep The Blob alive somehow. Keep that damn thing under a heat lamp if you want it to terrorize the city of Milford when the dismissal bell rings. DON’T leave it out in the dugout with Gil waiting for the baseball plot to start. The Blob could turn into The Flop by the time we get to Memorial Day.

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is Karen Ferguson-Dayes, the Women’s Soccer Coach for University of Louisville. She was a multiple All-All-American for University of Connecticut back in the early ’90’s as a sweeper and a midfielder. She eventually wound up in the current position just mentioned. Her no-nonsense style has enabled the Cardinals to participate in several NCAA post-season runs, and some deep runs at that. I remember when a reporter asked how she was going to prepare for a major opponent and she, knowing there was ANOTHER opponent to play before that, reminded the reporter “Excuse me, we play THIS team FIRST!!!!!!” Don’t overlook ANY opponent. Spoken like a true coach. Then, one night, playing a team that was employing dirty tactics, she still insisted that her team still stick with the Game Plan. How you play the game, win, lose, or draw. Starting out 1-18, her 182-162 record at Louisville speaks for itself. Join me in saluting a person who keeps competing and has won that way, on and off the field.

 

“We’ll be back to see if Marty Moon if finds his manhood under the bunk bed at Mudlark Lake Resort while Peaches heads to the fridge for a Yoplait after these messages. You’re watching WDIG-TV.”

 

At The Lake House

“…I met you and now I see

This is the way it should be…”

 

“Ohhhhhh, that is so romantic. The Beatles sure know how to get a girl going. They don’t make ’em like they used to.”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Go away, Mrs. Shaw!!!!!!!!!!”

“But Honey, weren’t we going for a midnight swim? I’m kinda horny and I’d LOVE for you to do a cannonball on meeeeeee!!!!!!!”

“I called Keanu Reeves and he said there’s still sharks swimming around when he was rentin’ it. I ain’t gonna have my Significant Other bitten off by Jaws.”

“Darling, it’s a freshwater lake.”

“Bloopie, bloopie, it’s got all kind of algae in it. That causes my Significant Other to attract scum. I don’t want to go skinny-dipping with a green weenie. What would the neighbors think? Plus, it breeds that Coronavirus they’re talking about in the news. The boogeyman or the Algae from Hell won’t come in here. I got the bathroom dead-bolted.”

Heard somewhere from the septic tank outside

“…So jump on me

This is the way love’s supposed to be…”

“Honey, you can’t quarantine yourself just because pond scum breeds a little out of control. You can jump on me out in the middle of the lake. We’ll have life preservers and you can jump off the raft and take on me.”

“No way, Mrs. Shaw!!!!!!!! I microwaved my toothbrush and made sure I spit out thoroughly when I spit out my Colgate. That Coronavirus will go down the drain faster than stink beating the virus on shit.”

“How are you going to eat?”

“I bought a lot of Rice-a-Roni and stuck it under the bathroom sink. I can use the sink to boil water. I’ll have the 4-Cheese Rice-a-Roni tonight. No Coronavirus will get past these doors and land on my bill of fare.”

“If you can’t land on me because Coronavirus has landed on your Significant Other, let me know.”

 

“She had me there. And we were paying good money to rent out The Lake House and not doing any more than Captain Kangaroo would do with Mr. Moose. With treatment programs that work, don’t YOU want to hear Paul McCartney in the background while gettin’ it on in the lake? No wonder why they call it The Lake House. House of Fun to me. Come down to the Milford Men’s Clinic and jump on in, the water’s fine.”

 

Get after it, Gang. You are the world to me. Just be careful, The Blob was last seen in your neck of the woods.

 

“…this is the way it should be for lovers

They shouldn’t go it alone, oh no…”

 

Gil entering Dr. Pearl’s office

 

“I just received Schuring’s 4th-grade test scores and there was no indication of foul play, he’s good for Stanford and-er, what are you doing hugging your coat rack?”

 

“…It’s not so good when you’re on your own

(Kissy, Kissy, Kissy)

So come to me…”

 

“And Harrieta, I’m sorry if I said you mop with Pine-Sol and Tequila Sunrise.”

 

March 14, 2020

“Mimi and I washed our hands. Here, Alexa, smell ’em.”

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Well, rob went there yesterday. I was beginning to wonder how long we at TWIM could go without making mention of the current global crisis, one that could end up making the crisis that gave us the Padillas story arc a couple of seasons ago look relatively minor in comparison.

As I write a good many of us may be working from home, either by choice or by force. Some of us may already have been working from home, but travel restrictions may be keeping us from visiting our clients or customers. Rob works for the USPS, so I doubt working from home is an option for him. (Be careful out there, rob.) Some of us may see our work cut back or lost entirely. Too soon to tell.

Less than a month ago I was planning on playing hooky taking the day off from work and going into DC to see something no one has seen in ninety-five years: a major league baseball team that calls Washington home raise a world championship banner. Then the Nats announced they wouldn’t be selling single game tickets for Opening Day, that the tix would only be available as part of a season ticket plan or partial plan. (Ah yes, the sweet smell of success.) Okay, whatevs, I’ll hit StubHub. It might be another ninety-five years before it happens again.

In the words of Gilda Radner’s Emily Litella, “Never mind.” MLB cancelled the rest of spring training and postponed the start of the season by at least two weeks. The NBA, NHL, MLS, and Premier League have suspended their seasons; the XFL (look it up) canceled its season outright. The Masters, PGA and LPGA tours, and most motorsports events have been postponed. The NCAA has cancelled all remaining winter and spring sports championships; any March Madness we see will not be on a basketball court.

Where I live the schools have been closed for at least the next two weeks. The SATs scheduled for today have been postponed. High school sports have been cancelled for the remainder of the academic year, including the basketball playoffs. I guess it’s a good thing Rubin and Whigham have helped prepare us for our immediate sports-free future by turning away from sports to a few weeks of he-said, she-said about academic cheating.

Just wait until the spring story arcs start in a week or two. They’ll make the Thorpiverse look even more like a fantasy land than it already does. Stay safe, TWIMers.

Update (5:25pm EDT): In all the gloom and doom I forgot to wish you all a happy Pi Day. I took time out of my day to bake a pie – an old school Florida favorite, sour orange pie. Here’s a pic so that you may enjoy vicariously. My meringue styling skills could be better.

orangepie

March 3, 2020

“Hey, Funnie!!!!! I Got Some Crib Notes On The SAT For Sale!!!!!”

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This is the city, Milford USA. It has its good points and its bad points. But I was born and raised here. I call it home.

Milford is like any other city. Good roads. Good schools. Fair tax system. And The Bucket is better than a Big Mac and tater tots any day of the week. And I can handle any rogue who tries to slip a BLT in his overalls because the Milford Soup Kitchen ran short on Campbell’s Chunky. But when a punk attempts to traffick illicit and illegal test items, that gutless coward filled in one too many blanks on the essay section with his #2 pencil. That’s when I go to work. My name’s Friday. I carry a badge.

It was rainy in Milford. The WDIG-TV weatherman called for hail the size of Mudlark practice balls later in the afternoon. But my partner, Bill Gannon, and I had a hailstorm and you couldn’t come of the rain on this one.

We were assigned to the Unlawful and Wrongful Distribution of Examinations and Quiz Substances Unit of the Milford Police Department. The boss is Captain Keener. We were advised to be on the lookout for vehicles peddling illegal SAT’s and other stolen test merchandise. The contraband could be in an Econoline van or a Roadway semi. Anything to throw off the trail.

“Gentlemen, we have a hot one and I’m tired of getting the once-over from the Mayor. So the sooner we can wrap this package and get it under the tree for Christmas, the better. But don’t be stupid. Don’t get your chest blown in two over an LSAT. And you can’t open the Milford Bed and Bath delivery truck without a warrant.”

“We understand. Are there any leads?”

“A couple. An anonymous tipster called and said he saw a Roehl Trucking piggy-back pull at the entrance to Milford High School gym. Said they were using dollies up and down the ramp. We put two and two together and figured you couldn’t fit slaughterballs on dollies. But the guy riding shotgun had one of his own so the tipster couldn’t get closer.”

“We have our Sig Sauers in our wallet. We’ll fire when necessary, Chief.”

“Hopefully it won’t come to that. I don’t want to lose you both over a sting operation gone awry.”

“Don’t worry. If Friday and I can handle John Dillinger without firing a shot, we can handle vermin who shot the proctor so they could improve their score on the Verbal section.”

Somber music as Friday and Gannon methodically leave Keener’s office

 

Come to Iroquois Gardens Apartments and check out the deals at hand. Melody Bland and Melissa Frye always have a friendly face and can show you the best rooms around. I know. I love the comfort and convenience, not to mention the atmosphere of my abode. Factor in a microwave, refrigerator, excellent Central Air and other amenities along with great closet space and places to store my cooking items (LOVE to cook) and I have a winner of a situation. And it’s a perfect setting for doing this blog. Come see what I mean at Iroquois Gardens Apartments on New Cut Road in South Louisville, just across the street from Iroquois Park. You’ll be glad you did.

Support Small Business, Gang. You need to go where everyone knows your name.

 

This is purely inane. What in the name of Nickelodeon is “Doug” doing on here???? Thorpiverse, if you’re going to drag bad guys out of the script heap, will you at least tell Roger M. Klotz that if he’s going to be trafficking test papers in the hallway to at least SHAVE? It’s bad enough that we have sunk to juvenile proportions just to sell a comic strip.

“Hey, Alexa, here’s some inside info on the Math portion of the SAT. It has all the trig ratios. And Funnie is still struggling with Corresponding Parts of Congruent Triangles are Congruent. You oughta knock him cold if you remember that cosine is the ADJACENT side divided by the hypotenuse. The difference between Milford Community College and Harvard.”

“No thank you, I don’t cheat. Where’d you get those Cliff’s Notes? Surely not the same location as your Trac II.”

“Naw, I stuck all my razors in Funnie’s locker. And told Mr. Bone that Doug Funnie stole them out of his desk when he was going to The Bucket to have lunch with Gil.”

“It shows.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Injures Back At Milford Lounge During Karaoke Hour!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Was trying to duckwalk while playing ‘Maybelline’ on his banjo.”

 

10:14AM-It was windy in Milford. My partner, Bill Gannon, passed some gas and thankfully the zephyr blew most of the stench away. I told him to lay off the sausage biscuits off the Dollar Menu at the Drive-Thru at McDonald’s.

But the test operations ring was getting even stinkier. The good news was that one of the cafeteria ladies called and reported a suspicious pickup truck unloading milk crates at the entrance in the back of the cafeteria. Normally Milford Dairies appears in their Kenworth. It was time to investigate.

We talked with Constance Snakely, the head of the cafeteria, about the incident. Needless to say, the discussion wasn’t about overripe meat loaf on the school lunch menu.

“Awwwwwrrrigghtt, Mrs. Snakely. I could book you on a Section 347, “Manufacturing of Unlawful Condiments with Intent to Damage the Well-Being of the Academic Circles and its Constituents”, but the Milford Minimum Security Facility is overcrowded and I lost the key. But you better have the Twinkie rack in order on this one.”

“It’s that we had to utilize a Dodge Ram to bring in shipments of dairy products. But I am by the book on deliveries. Nothing escapes my eye. What would I do with a Barron’s Guide to the SAT? Store it in the cooler with the 2%?”

“Ma’am, my partner Friday is only doing his job. We have to ensure nothing is fishy. If a #2 pencil is found under a package of Sargento’s Sharp Cheddar, we could all wind up in the hoosegow. Just following procedure.”

“I understand. I hope you catch the crumbum who’s messing with my deliveries. I run a clean operation, you know. Kids and Minute Maid go together like Gil and Mimi.”

“You better pray Gil and Mimi aren’t discovered with a Ford Explorer with cottage cheese and Cliff’s Notes on Precal.”

Somber music as Friday and Gannon grab a bowl of chipped Jell-O and leave.

 

And why the heck is Jiffy Pop Head still following Roger Loser? Both had their prank props confiscated, both got detention, and to add insult to injury, NOBODY LAUGHED. When I was going to school, a student named Fred Seiler (SIGH-ler) would keep us in stitches in Mr. Stieler’s (Steeler) German class. And he NEVER got in trouble. Fred’s philosophy was that if you’re going to get sent to the Principal’s office, keep ’em laughing when you leave. ‘Nuff said.

So in P2, 2 Dead Men Walking

“Hey, Roger, why are they strapping us down to this chair? I thought you said The Governor implented a Stay of Execution.”

“I just got done talking to The Governor. He said that Dr. Pearl ought to remove this steel hat to our heads anytime.”

“Even if we dumped Doug’s body in the ditch behind Milford Beverage Warehouse?”

“Dr. Pearl just said ‘Boys will be boys’.”

“Whooaaa, don’t dump so much water on my head!!!!!!!”

 

 

If ya got fined by the Game Warden cuz ya cheated on the open-book portion of the Hunter’s License exam and he didn’t git notified of your illegal maneuver until after ya bagged a ten-pointer at the Fish & Wildlife Reserve behind the Thorp Pure Pork Sausages Enterprise plant, ya might be a redneck.

 

12:59PM-We were up in Ms. Rizk’s room and had to interrupt her Intro to Journalism-Lifetime Reports class. She was in the middle of discussing efficient methods on printing church bulletins when we knocked.

“I don’t know why you’re talking to me. I wouldn’t have anything to do with anything being smuggled in the gym. Have you talked to Coach Thorp?”

“He wasn’t in.”

“That figures. Recruit players to get their picture on the front page of the Milford Trumpet, then fly out of town on a luxury cruise, courtesy of Milford Travel. But that’s Gil.”

“Isn’t that a little odd? We keep finding answer sheets in the gym lockers and Gil is nowhere to be found.”

“He may be perpetually in absentia but he wouldn’t know what to do with stolen PSAT booklets. I did see a kid with a Mohawk in the girls’ gym when I was oiling my typewriter at the drinking fountain. He had reams of college-bound notebooks. He was headed to Mimi’s office.”

“Joe, that may lead us to something. Can’t hurt to look.”

“On it. Hope Mimi isn’t strangled with a lanyard from a referee’s whistle. Let’s go.”

 

P3 is just absolutely insulting our intelligence. Roger going on a wild goose chase to the Milford Dog Pound and finding out that Doug Funnie already paid the fine to get Porkchop out after Porkchop pee’d in Gil’s coffee at the Fellowship Breakfast at that Coffee Shop in P3 only makes a travesty out of a travesty.

Next thing you know, Roger will be looking in the ol’ swimming hole to see if Doug and Skeeter are in their birthday suits. Oh boy, don’t you just wonder if Roger is going to go through with it and plant those papers in Doug’s shorts?

“Mr. Funnie, why do you have a butt like Freezer Thompson?”

“Oh, gee, Mr. Bone, I’m sorry, I didn’t notice that bulge. I guess my butt had an erection.”

“Well, you march right to the boys room and adjust your pants before pre-algebra class. And don’t let me catch you with a boner in your crack again. We have decorum at this school and I intend to live by it.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Bone.”

 

Sure, stick some Cliff’s Note’s on The Taming of the Shrew up Patti Mayonnaise’s dress when Mr. Bone isn’t looking. Doug is sure to ace the Final on Shakespearean Theory if he doesn’t get caught. But if he does, not only will Mr. Bone make him sit on the bench and watch Phoebe coach the boys team since Gil is in The Bahamas, Doug’ll get suspended. Sound strategy. Use a plunger if the papers fall out.

 

“We’ll be back to see if Eddie Haskell has to go to Sing Sing after plotting crib notes in Beaver’s lunch box after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”

 

HAIL HAIL ROCK ‘N’ ROLL

Knock!!!!!! Knock!!!!!! Knock!!!!!!

“Yeahhhhh?”

“Honey, it’s 1:00AM. Don’t you think you should come to bed? I’m all lonely and need some good vibrations.”

“Not now, Mrs. Shaw. I’m practicing for my upcoming gig at the Milford Lounge. I’m gonna do Chuck Berry one better. Why, I’ll be duck-walking in this bathtub before you can say ‘Chubby Checker’.”

“Darling, you need to unlock the door, put down the Jazz guitar and come to bed. I know you say it once belonged to John McLaughlin but that’s neither here nor there. Come to beddddyyyy-by, Honey Pie”

TOO MUCH MONKEY BUSINESS TOO MUCH MONKEY BUSINESS FOR MIMI ON THE COURT TO SEE

“My little Monkey, don’t you want to swing on a tree and be like Tarzan and jump on your precious Jane?”

“Woman, I’ll have the barstools rockin’ with Johnny B. Goode until the break of down

DOWN IN LOUISIANA, CLOSE TO NEW ORLEANS-

“Honey, you have no particular place to go when your Jazz guitar is more solid than your wim wim. Right?”

 

“How could I argue? I was goin’ to town but hadn’t reached my destination. But Milford Men’s Clinic changed all that. These new HARDCORE PLUS tablets took all the guesswork out of my Significant Other. Just a couple of tablets and a glass of water and Tarzan was truly King of the Jungle. The giraffes and lions ran off to see their Mama. And Mrs. Shaw was truly satisfied. She made the sweetest cinnamon Danish rolls at breakfast to seal our relationship. Come on down and get some Green Eggs and Ham for your limp garden hose and watch it spray. Only at Milford Men’s Clinic.

 

Gang, you make my world. And I don’t have to look in Mammoth Cave to find you. But Roger will go just about anywhere to exact revenge. I don’t think he’ll go to Antarctica. He wouldn’t stoop that low. Would he?

 

At the Indy 500

“I checked with the pit crew. They haven’t seen him.”

“I told you to look first in the library, dimwit.”

 

3:47PM-Bill and I drove over to the Coffee C Shoppe. We were told that the smugglers went there for cappuccino and doughnuts

“He about drained the Colombian pot dry. Thank God I ordered more Folger’s.”

“Did you see anything suspicious other than that? Did he stick the crib notes anywhere?”

“Yeah, Mr. Gannon, now that you mentioned it, he ordered a 3-piece chicken dinner, all-white, 2 breasts and a wing. He crammed something under the potato wedges. The biscuits were too small.”

“Any idea where he was going?”

“Said he was going to eat lunch at the Milford Trucking Terminal before he went back to work. What he does with crib notes and why he sticks ’em in an 18-wheeler is more than I know.”

“If he hides Chic-Lets in a flatbed, he’s still breaking the law.”

The obligatory zinger said and done, Joe says no more and he and Bill leave. They take their Powerball tickets with them.

 

To be continued

 

February 15, 2020

Phoebe’s Electric!

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Steve Luhm, Master of the Janitorium, has been keeping the halls of Milford High so shiny that Phoebe Keener can get in some Electric Slide practice in time for the reprise of the Milford/Goshen flash mob from a few seasons back.

 

I could be wrong; Milford could be replacing West Allis, Wisconsin as the home of US speed skating, and Phoebe’s working on her stride. Then again maybe those are figure skating moves, as her camel game is very strong today.

Any or all of that makes as much sense as the gibberish she’s doling out to Alexa Watson. So Chris Schuring’s little secret is to be an obnoxious jerk and start cutting in front of people everywhere you go? How exactly has that worked out for him? He had a good game against Oakwood but how did that translate from Gil’s directive to “pounce”? He hasn’t pounced on that punk-ass DeMarco kid yet, much less throw his weight around the halls. Better left to his flunkies, I suppose.

Even Phoebe recognizes this little head game won’t make Alexa see herself as less of a geek. If it makes everyone else see that Alexa is a person who won’t let anyone stand in her way physically, then she and Chris are on to something. Too bad it’s not the Lady Mudlarks’ opponents who’ll see all that cutting ahead of kids in the hall. Once Alexa’s muscled her way into position there’s still that little matter of shooting the ball, which Chris’ solution conveniently glosses over.

Speaking of Phoebe and shooting and apropos of nothing, here’s a shot of an Eastern Phoebe taken by son of teenchy on one of our side trips to Bakst country not very long ago.

phoebe_pdsp

February 5, 2020

Unwanted attention, on and off the court

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I wouldn’t like attention, either, when it’s coming from someone whose attention I don’t want, who walks up to me looking like an alien host from The X-Files, and who starts making unsolicited observations and psychoanalyses about my behavior.

Rubin’s created this kind of Goofus and Gallant vibe coming from the Alexa and Chris dynamic. Alexa lets criticism go to her head while Chris lets the taunts of immature punks slide like water off a duck’s back. Alexa treats academics like a contact sport – or so we’re told – while Chris is much more chill when it comes to his studies. (They’re both kind of hung up on their stats, though.) Chris’ blunt approach to Alexa today moves his personal needle closer to Goofus. At least he’s left Alexa an opening, probably because he knows she never takes them.

Playing quarterback to get attention is such a Pelwecki thing to do. Alexa should know that every boy who’s put his hands under center for the past five seasons has had to fill the cleats of a unicorn*  and, by extension, validate Gil’s ability as a coach. No pressure there.

 

*Did anybody notice that Wake Forest’s starting QB transferred to Georgia? Leaves an opening for redshirt senior True Standish.

December 12, 2019

You Can Call Me Al

Filed under: Boredom in Milford, Piss faced Alexa Watson, song parody — tdrewhardin @ 9:40 am

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Two girls walk in the cafeteria

One says “Why hasn’t basketball started yet,

Hasn’t gotten off its ass yet

The rest of the plot will probably be Uncle Ben’s Denture-Friendly Rice

We need another opportunity

A shot at Peppermint Patty

Don’t want to wind up in Wee Pals

In a Wee Pals graveyard”

Bonedigger, Bonedigger

Marmaduke in the moonlight

And plot far away in Rivets’ doghouse

Mr. Snoopy, Snoopy

Get these mutts away from me

You know, we dont find this entertaining anymore

 

 

If you’ll just speed up basketball

I can be your long lost pal

I can call you Phoebe, and Phoebe, when you call me, you can call me Al

 

After having lost a bundle because we got the Watson joke THE VERY NEXT DAY (Had to fork over my Gil Thorp Comic Strip scrapbooks, in installments) , I am still wondering if these girls are going to play basketball. Now if Alexa the Supercomputer (I rub it in well, don’t I?) is 6’1″, the implication couldn’t be leading towards wrestling. God bless the girls who have broken into the sport and SUCCEEDED many times but I don’t think Alexa will be one of the pioneers continuing to lead the way.

Coach Thorp passing by Alexa one day in the Mathematics wing of Milford High School

“God Almighty, you’re tall. Did you ever think about going out for the wrestling team? I’ll bet you could execute a 3/4 Nelson with the best of ’em.”

“I’ll think about it. Who do I talk to, Coach Shaw?”

“No, he’s in Tank McNamara for the time being. Won’t be back until the Football Wienie Roast Pep Rally. Let me speak with Coach Anderson.”

“BTW, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be back in gym?”

“I was going to strong-arm another trig teacher to clear one of my players to play. He just got sine and cosine, mixed up that’s all. Plus, I wasn’t doing anything anyway, like for the last 60 years.”

“I’ll work on Takedown Procedures tonight after I get done with my Biology Lab.”

“What I wanna hear.”

 

If yore Google computer in the den and yore bloodhound ya go huntin’ coons  with and yore cleanin’ lady with a tattoo the size of Delaware who comes in on Thursday to wipe off the pig slop in the living room and yore mechanic that fixes yore pickup and puts in points and plugs every bow season all go by the same name, Al, ya might be a redneck.

 

Interesting choice, the phrase “Day of Irritations”. Let’s see if we can make good use of combination of words.

 

On a 1944 headline of the Milford Enquirer

“MacArthur Fleet Bombs Honshu, Destroying 2 Nissan Plants, Including Line Of Sentras Being Shipped To Egypt!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Emperor Hirohito declared the attack a ‘Day of Irritations’.”

C’mon, it’s got possibilities.

Okay, you nitpickers out there, let’s go Room 222

“So what are you going to wear to the prom, Shelly?”

“I’m not going.”

“Why not?”

“The prom is on the same date as the Day of Irritations. I’m a Thorpist and Thorp simply operates through prayer and meditation and prohibits any kind of vigorous activity. I can’t even eat a Bucket Wienie.”

Later, in Mr. Dixon’s World Geography class

“…contrary to popular belief, the USSR never abutted upon the Cape of Good Hope. Africa was a target but Brezhnev was sick with flu in a Moscow hospital and could not commence Operation Africa in time…”

BRRRRRRRIIIIIINNNNNGGGGGGG

“That is all. Don’t forget your book report on Finland is due this Friday. Shelly, may I have a word with you?”

“Sure, Mr. Dixon, what’s up?”

“I heard rumors that you’re not going to the prom.”

“That’s right.”

Miss Johnson steps in

“Shelly, think of all the fun you’ll miss.”

“But Thorpism is the Way, the Truth, and the Life. I am going to sit butt naked in my bathtub and pray and fast on The Day of Irritations.”

Mr. Dixon has heard enough. Us TWIMers have SEEN enough

“Shelly, you can’t spend the rest of your life worshipping a man who never coaches, let alone worry about you.”

“And he tried to make a move on me and I said, your Ayers Rock hairline may be sexy to Mimi but you won’t even get Irish Spring soap from me and your hair is RAINING dandruff.”

“He tried to have his way with you, Miss Johnson?”

“That’s right. Threw the doggie shampoo bottle in his face.”

“Is it still too late to call Milford Formal?”

Mr. Dixon smiles when the 222 plot always has a happy ending

“No, a friend of mine works there and he can FedEx a gown by tomorrow. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Bobby Howry.”

 

Okay, Okay, so it had a rough edge but the 222 ending worked, didn’t it? Didn’t it?

 

“And on the Day of Irritations, Shechem, you shall lead my people towards the Land of Canaan where you shall enjoy a feast of milk and honey. I will rain Manna out of the sky until that Day…”

Hey, I know The Bible well. The Annotated Version ought to find that SOMEWHERE

 

Two girls walk into the basketball gym

One says “Why is this game so short of attention

4 quarters short of attention

And, whoa, Mimi rambles about setting picks

Where’s the referees and the scorekeeper

What if the timer dies on the half court line

Who’ll be the other team

Now that it didn’t show up like last year’s season

It ducked behind The Bucket

With some roly-poly little zit-filled carhop

All along, all along

There were flagrant fouls and technicals

There were slammed basketballs and Gil’s ejection

 

If you’ll be my point guard,

I can be your long lost pal

I’m the power forward, I will call for the ball

And you can call me Al

 

And in P2, Rod Serling at 17 flirts(?) with Al and Phoebe, we TWIMers unsure of motives but confident will find out in a well-developed soap opera, i.e., at the expense of basketball. Isn’t it just peachy that we are thrown 3 characters right off the bat and really not holding our breath that THAT will be the limit?

And why is Mr. Serling added AT ALL? Is he going to have a sex change and join the girl’s team? Boy, don’t go in Mimi’s office and dump her with THAT one.

In Gil’s office one day, right after he washed his hands and dried them with Bounty towels after The Deluge in his personal toilet

“Coach Thorp, I’m quitting the basketball team.”

“WHY????”

“I’m pursuing other interests after my surgery at Milford General.”

 

Whoa, Nelly

Ooooookkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is here to save the day!!!!!! Take ‘er away, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was soooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!), she went through the cafeteria line with Al and Phoebe to buy plenty of __________________.”

 

And what is this in P3? Will this be a future installment on The Dating Game

“Bachelorette #3″, I understand you like basketball but you like archery, badminton, 5-stud billiards, dodgeball, indoor wiffleball, racquetball hockey, donkey nerf football, hallway X-country, heck, just about any sport in case Thorpiverse reneges on us and ditches basketball and there’s another sport Naismith hasn’t invented to entertain the masses in the wintertime.”

“What’s your point?”

“I was going to ask Thorpiverse the same thing.”

Funky music comes in for a landing, Marty Moon, the host steps in

“Well, that’ll wrap up this one. We’ll see which Bachelorette that Chris will pick in a moment, Phoebe, Ms. Rizk, or Al…”

 

 

“And that about wraps up this scrimmage here at the Milford High School Girls Gym. The Varsity beats the Reserves, 105-27, Al Watson leading the way with 45 points. I’ll have other stats in a moment, this is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

 

“Aren’t you fired up for basketball? With Al Watson and her Jordanesque moves, the 5-game season should be a snap. I know I won’t have to listen to Mimi complaining until 1:00AM about the referees not calling a violation when the opposing free throw shooter steps on the line. Fair play is important, bitching about while I’m trying to watch Letterman isn’t.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse. Y’know, I went into Milford Hobby Lobby the other day and I maxed out on my Visa Platinum trying to buy a wagon for my kids. And when I saw that I could buy other red wagons for lesser value, I asked the teenage sales clerk, what’s less money than a Radio Flyer? Do they sell Radio Flyers for the Taco Bell chihuahua?

But don’t sweat this one as Milford Beverage Warehouse has ya covered, as if you thought otherwise. They bought several truckloads of toys that were of lesser value that the kids could still enjoy while selling The Good Life to the rest of us. I guess if Otis the Drunk wants Tinker Toys to purchase with his 6-pack of Falls City, that’s his cross to bear but the rest of us just enjoy watching our kids play Monopoly while sippin’ on some Jack.

That’s why Early Times at $19.99 and Star Wars Action figures for just a few simoleons more is practically robbing the store. Don’t you want watch your young’uns pretend they’re Luke and Darth while trying to locate your chaser under the recliner? What a way to get into the Christmas spirit.

Or for you mellow people, you can watch the neighborhood kids cuss at each other at Stratego as you partake of Starborough Sauvignon Blanc, and those memories are only $12.99 and some loose change.

And wouldn’t it be nice if you were kickin’ back on Christmas Day while watching your kids play with a 1,435-track Lionel Train Set, something that got repossessed by some loser like Chet Ballard? And your 12-pack of Heineken well in hand? My goodness, $14.99 and your checkbook that couldn’t possibly bounce on this one is a small price to pay when you hear the engine chug-a-luggin’

But YOU need to get your own Barbie Dolls or the Toy Robot from Lost in Space to give to your offspring if you want to enjoy the Garden of Eden. Glenmore Gin or whatever suits your fancy is all right here at The Milford Beverage Warehouse. Come see how full your wallet will remain as you break the bank down here where it’s literally fun and games and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

 

All right, Gang, it’s your turn. And don’t forget, ya doesn’t have ta call me T. Drew. Ya can call me T. or you can call me Drew…

 

A man walks by Phoebe’s and Al’s table

A table with some strange brew

Maybe it’s a chili dog and hash browns

Maybe it’s Cream of Wheat on Rye

Doesn’t speak their language

He’s too late for football

Shouldn’t be dropping in for lunch at 12:40

He’s surrounded by Mudlarks, Mudlarks

Some in the journalism room

Inchoate plots and lack of action technicals

He looks around, around

He sees two girls, tip of the iceberg

Rambling in infinity

Tells Thorpiverse “Get to the point, Amen”

 

If you’ll apply some Right Guard

I can be your long lost pal

I can call you Chris

And when you call me for a date

You can call me Al

 

“Coach Thorp, I can’t play on that date. My family celebrates The Day of Irritations”

“We didn’t make the Playdowns, Joe.”

December 11, 2019

Bonk, Bonk on the Head, Alexa!

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Alexa Watson is not only smart and tragically accomplished, she likes to reenact old Star Trek episodes. At 6’1″ and ripped, she looks to be this year’s Kenzie Hanley. Will she brk some jaws in the process? Maybe after one too many jokes about her name.

We’ve seen that swoony pose on Phoebe Keener before but not paired with, apparently, a sundial for a nose.

metapost: Apologies for the late post. Caught a redeye from the Thorpiverse, literally; bad weather on both ends put me home just before sunrise. Haven’t slept in over 24 hours so this post may reflect that.

December 10, 2019

Alexa, It’s Pretty Sad When I’m Bored When The Story Is Only Six Panels Old.

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I remember her well. She lived on an island off the coast of Mudlark Lake. Her name was Dorothy Pearl or Dr. Pearl for short. I never thought I’d be non-coaching for her several years later.

She said she was 1,187 years old. She held her age well. Hermie Shaw and Oscy Kaz used to make fun of me every time her name was brought up. A few examples:

“Geez, this Bucket Double Bacon Burger tastes like it’s been in the oven for days. Did Dr. Pearl light a camp fire there?”

“Damn, my book report’s due!!!!!!!!! If I wait until the Treaty of Westphalia, it’ll be late!!!”    “Isn’t that the year Dr. Pearl was born?”

“Why did Coach Thorp call a pass play on the 1-yard line? Is Dr. Pearl calling the plays from Versailles Palace?”

You get the idea.

 

“This Bucket Chili Dog has seen better days. I wouldn’t wrap a condom around this loser and have sex with-”

“SEE, HERMIE, I told you Gilby has a thing for Dr. Pearl!!!!!!!!!!!!!! A 15-year old virgin is going to have his way with an older woman!!!!!!!!!!! Tell me, Gilby, how was it when Dr. Pearl went in Napoleon’s tent? Did she like it?”

The story sucked

And football’s gone

I wretched all night

It went too long

Chance is cleared

He did no wrong

 

And when it was over

We never saw much to brag about

Against Valley Tech

Much less the season in toto

 

Chet’s in reform

His wife has warned

 

Gang, I’m sorry, P1 is starting this whole daggone story on the wrong foot ALREADY and I ain’t gonna do another Summer of ’42 rendition after basketball, assuming that’s the bill of fare, something that’s been the bill of fare the last 60 years and counting. It’s hard for me to imagine Alexa hittin’ the weights hard so she can be the Milford High School Girls’ Darts champion sponsored by Milford Lounge.

 

She throws her darts

With deft aplomb

She nearly missed

Moon’s glass of rum

Gil is concerned

Ate tons of Tums

 

Well. it needs a little sprucing but that’s as far as I’m going. For now, anyway.

 

Because I really don’t understand why the man in the car with Kentucky license plate 331 VBD used hate to get his point across at Papa John’s on Lower Hunters Trace and Dixie Highway in Louisville early this morning

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Neo-nazi Camp In Rural Milford Shut Down By Milford Health Board After Injury To One Of Its Members!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Safety concerns raised after member’s head was caught in the toilet in the outhouse after head-plunging procedure was going great guns.”

 

At the Milford Recording Studio, taping an advertising jingle for Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage

 

“Ahhhhhhhhh, Baby,

This meat is full of taste

And it’s ALL FOR YOU

 

Sit yo ass down and do

WHAT YOU GOT TA DO

 

Eat your ass blind

And experience Heaven’s

MASTERPIECE

 

No, no, don’t leave Gil this way

No, don’t leave Gil this way…”

 

“Anybody get a hold of Thelma Houston yet? I’m not getting my butt in the sling over copyright infringement”

 

Hi Crystal. I see you at Jeff Smith Marathon in Edwardsville, Indiana. She and Bre(like “key”) are two VERY friendly people who greet the customers with the utmost courtesy and respect. Throw in mechanics who get the job done as attested by all the cars that fill up the parking lot (BUSY) on the property and you have a whale of abusiness. But don’t take my word for it. Take Exit 118 off of I-64 in Indiana, head to 62 West and it’s the first road to your LEFT as you leave the freeway. You’ll see the business. Great gasoline, great prices, great mechanics. Gang, I think you catch my drift. Catch it at Jeff Smith Marathon and say hello to Crystal and Bre. You’ll be VERY glad you did.

 

WHAT is that thing in P2, splitting the girls? Is it that gigantic door from 2001: A Space Odyssey? I don’t see any apes around, at least none from the football team and the one ape that was making a spectacle of himself during football is at some marriage  enrichment seminar with his wife (Assuming she still claims Chet of the Jungle) . I’m still trying to adjust my eyes trying to translate Vulcan while going in the out door or going out the in door, same difference. Well, like Joe Walsh said, being a student at Milford High School is living a Life of Illusion. No better example than P2.

I don’t THINK that the obelisk wannabe is something anybody prays to five times a day. I was under the impression that Muslims pray towards Gil’s office that many times (“Surrender to the Will of Gil and accept Coach Kaz as his Prophet.”)

Oh, I KNOW (slaps head). It’s a stoplight. The hallways in the M.C. Escher hallways can get a little confusing. Helps to have Big Brother the Traffic Cop to sort it all out.

 

“Aw, C’mon, Gilby. Mimi really likes you. Hermie tried to make out with her and she said she only dates guys who referee her girls’ 5-game schedule. And I know you’re patched cuz I heard you scored a 92 on the open-book exam. You can’t keep fantasizing about Dr. Pearl forever.”

“Who are you going to make out with, Oscy?

“Marcia Brady!!!!!!!!!!! I heard she is really hot-to-trot after Alice the Maid showed her a few moves. Used a scrub brush to get her point across.”

That summer, I gained my manhood. We would marry 47 years later but making out behind the tackling dummies was more fun than a barrel of Nerf footballs used in the previous plot while Oscy and Marcia had some fun in the equipment shed, making sure the door was deadbolted so Luhm wouldn’t come in to fix the riding mower blades. Hermie had to settle for Dr. Pearl’s great-great-great granddaughter. He may have had to return her by the 8:00 curfew so she could finish her multiplication tables but he did get a kiss out of her. On the lips.

As for Dr. Pearl, watching her boobs press through her blouse while she was loading boxes in the attic was exhilarating. It was a little like observing gigantic prunes that the Jolly Green Giant eats for breakfast hanging through Kaz’s hammock but still exhilarating. The roar of Mudlark Lake bespoke her mystique. Her beehive bun came from Never Never Land.

 

And if we have to endure one more stinkin’ bad plot, we’ll be grumbling more than 3 times a week, rest assured.

 

Big shout-out to Thelma Houston. A very classy woman whose hit “Don’t Leave Me This Way” still rings true as it did when it hit the charts big back in 1977. Never one to rest on her laurels, she is still recording to this day and has acted in several movies and TV shows. I don’t know about you, Gang, but when a person still wants to keep performing even after she hit the Big Time, it is my humble opinion that that’s what makes a STAR. I salute you, Thelma, and hope you keep up the good work.

 

Gang, if I see one more Marcia Brady at 17 visage as in P3, I’m demanding my money back. I’ve already gotten refunded after returning a moldy Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage Flame-Broiled to Milford IGA, but I can always get another one out of the bunker, the ones next to the George Jones Old Fashioned Breakfast ‘n’ Bed Sausage. We can’t get another plot. Football proved the futility of that particular venture.

I was really working up my courage on a dare from Hermie and Oscy. Hermie Shaw had already disappeared like he always does when football season is approaching its climax. Asking for his mom’s Nair evidently was a bit too embarrassing. Surely the druggist at Milford Apothecary knew his mom shaved her legs.

At any rate, at the Milford Apothecary for Round Two

“May I help you?”

“Do you all sell banana splits?”

“Nope. The Bucket down the street does. Do you need directions?”

“No, that’s all right.”

Well, here goes

“I would like CruexJockItchmedicine100jockstrapsacoupleoffootballhelmetssomeLifesavers10rubbers5atheleticbandages534boxesofBand-AidssomehydrgenperoxideinthejanitordrumsizesoScottwillquitbitchingandapartridgeinapeartree.”

“We’re out of Lifesavers.”

“Do you have everything else?”

“Sure. Give me 15 minutes. My help had to make a delivery to Dorothy Pearl. Had to drop off her Ex-Lax.”

“No problem.”

Whew, that was easy. I couldn’t wait to see the looks on Hermie’s and Oscy’s face. Now I could go all the way with Dr. Pearl. Hermie would leave in defeat but you heard that before. Oscy would be able to buy rubbers and earrings with ease several decades later but by then he would be my assistant. And the druggist cheerfully came back

“Here you are. Have a nice day.”

“Gee, thanks. Oh, BTW, WHERE’S THE RUBBERS?”

“They’re underneath the football helmets, nice and neat.”

“Oh yeah. Sorry. Thanks, Mr. Druggist.”

“No problem. Hope she’s fun.”

 

So much for trying to sneak one past somebody. But I still had Hermie and Oscy with egg all over their faces. That’s what mattered for the moment.

 

Gang, I could be wrong but ol’ Foghorn here thinks Marcia Brady is tryin’ to execute a funny. It would HELP if we knew what the Hell she was talking about. I know what Watson the Supercomputer is, the IBM wunderkind, but WHAT IS IT REFERRING TO? We’ll have to toil through several more panels to get the joke? After several days, if Alexa’s weight training pays off by being able to lift Deep Blue off the ground with her index finger while holding a conversation with Marcia Brady about boys, the funny will have fulfilled its mission.

 

If ya gotta go to Milford A-poth-a-carry cuz ya is in-breedin’ once again with yore kid sister after ya got inta an argument over how many Tinker Toys got distributed to yaz both, b ut ya gotta hit the A-poth-a-carry once agin cuz ya ran out of pro-teck-shun, ya might be a redneck.

 

Because I’m still in bewilderment over these ads promising hardness for HOURS

 

While Coach Shaw has a problem on the Serta Love Sofa in the garage

“Hermieeeeeeee, it’s time to come to bed!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Come on down and do what ya got ta do!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I can’t, Dear. I’m stuck between the cushions!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Honey, don’t leave me this way. Now quit trying to pretend you have a problem and let’s have some fun.”

“I’M NOT KIDDING!!!!!!!!!!!! That Erec-9000 Vita-Plus Medicine sold by Milford Men’s Clinic was good as advertised. They weren’t kidding when they said she’d love you like a rock for hours!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I didn’t think I’d be stuck like a rock for hours!!!!!!!!! I can still get to my beer!!!!!!”

“Hermie, you’ve come up with some excuses before to not have sex with me but you had me fooled on those. I’m not buying this one. My heart is full of love and it’s all for you!!!!!!!!!!”

“And this LOVE SOFA IS FULL OF ME!!!!!!!!!!!!! Quick!!!!!!! I think that old See-Saw is behind the tool bin!!!!!!!!!!! Get it out and pry me loose!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Hermie, If I leave YOU THIS WAY, you won’t have any carnal knowledge. Now stop making things up and hold my hand.”

“I can’t even hold my significant other, let alone get up from it!!!!!!!!! Did you ever try to stand up while your stomach’s on top of a flagpole?????”

“I salute you for your brilliant evasive technique-”

“Well, it’s either you criticize my lack of imagination for excuses or you can have anal sex. There’s an obvious problem with that.”

 

“Well, doggie, you can imagine the dilemma I was in. I didn’t want my wife to leave me but I didn’t know how to get down from Mt. Everest. But she FINALLY got the See-Saw if I promised to use the Erec-9000 on our second honeymoon.

But y’know, that’s a pleasant problem because I did get down and do I what I gotta do right on that Love Sofa. We just made sure to avoid the gaps in the sofa and Sexual Elixir was at a premium. Come buy a slice of your own troubles at Milford Men’s Clinic where your problems begin once your erectile problems end.”

 

Go at it, Gang. My money is on a week before we find out when the Supercomputer funny is grasped. Isn’t that when Looney Tunes comes on?

 

Gilby comes to Dr. Pearl’s retreat house on Mudlark Island. The whippoorwill is faintly heard in the distance.

He enters.

No one is in the living room. There’s a note on the coffee table

“Dear Doctor Pearl,

We regret to inform you that your husband was killed in action at the Second Battle of Bull Run-”

 

“Hi, Gilby.”

“Hi.”

“I’m sorry, I’m a mess.”

“For 1800 years, you look fine”

“I don’t think I do.”

 

Dr. Pearl heads to the kitchen

“I’m sorry”

Dr. Pearl turns around

Gilby and Dr. Pearl embrace and slow-dance to the Summer of ’42 Theme. The Summer Knows. More than it cares to know in this plot.

Dr. Pearl leads Gilby to the bedroom. Like watching a petrified tree undress, they finally come to bed. And Gilby is enjoying his Second Manhood.

“I think you should go now, Gilby.”

 

She left me a letter later

“Dear Gilby, I had a wonderful time that night. You didn’t need Vita-Plus to enjoy me and I thank you for that.

I hope good things and only good things happen in your life. I am leaving, never to return until I become Principal. It’s a pity that football didn’t leave sooner but sometimes you don’t win Antietam. But you’ll win the war, Gilby. Just not the football games. It’s been nice knowing you.”

And so my days in the Summer of ’42 were in a reverie, a block of events I rue I cannot bring back. We all went on to bigger and better things and football sank in the South Pacific. Sometimes poetic justice has a way of turning its vengeful head. But my boyhood was rewarding and taught me that you could disappear after you had the time of your life. I had Dorothy Pearl to thank for that. Now basketball awaits, belated so. There might be another Dorothy at the free throw line. One can hope.

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