This Week in Milford

August 17, 2019

Oh Yeah? Jump On This!

gt08172019

Well, I’m glad that’s settled. Ed is neither the express nor implied racist we suspected him to be (or, at least, he’s not gonna cop to that). Neither is he really that concerned about Jaquan’s post-NBA career. He just wanted baby girl to come home and join/take over his practice. I mean, why should the Foley Law Group beat him to the punch? With that, Ed V. Baxendale joins the pantheon of Milford parents living vicariously through the lives of their children (if not outright preordaining their career paths via their names).

Kinda funny we haven’t seen Gil in the strip for a couple of weeks. Hope he’s watching more of Joe Bolek’s game film. He’d better keep Hadley on speed dial for the next time he needs to intimidate the lawyerless school board, or game the system to recruit outside talent.

Finally, it wouldn’t be a Gil Thorp arc-ending strip without some kind of lame joke and a freeze-frame ending. Good thing Jaquan got Luther, The Anger Translator to stand in for him.

July 30, 2019

Wow, I Could Have Had A V8 And Gone To Harvard Law School!!!!

073019

Mudlark Heaven is the place for me

Playin’ for Coach Thorp just relaxes me

That hair, combed and moussed so far and wide

Keep New Thayer, just gimme ol’ Milford High

 

Newwwwww Thayer is vere yoo need tooo stay

Veee get allergic vith zeeeee condo vayysssss

Veeee hate Hadley und her outhouse views

Dah-ling, veee love yoo but move to Park Avenue

 

So I’m a little mystified at who the Flemings might be so today’s theme will carry a Nick at Nite flavor to it. Just be patient, it will all come out in the wash. I’m not too sure about the story but I have no control over that. You’ll have to go down to the Home Office for Thorpiverse if you want to complain.

And the first item on the agenda right outta the gate HAS to be the choice of imbibing combinations we are observing in P1. Okay, okay, we are finally informed in P2 that it’s iced tea but that Folger’s heating up in the background is enough of a double-reverse to allow my imagination to run wild. I’ll run the gamut from Nestle’s Quik to Fresca out of the fridge to Minute Maid No-Squeeze Pulp-Free Deloused-Tangelos Orange Juice. Pouring out of a 1-gallon beaker is only intensifying the guessing game. We don’t see them but I’m bettin’ the deposition that Hadley Vitriolic possesses in her hand and in her purse under the Kleenex and crammed up her butt that Jaquan has a couple of Erlenmeyer flasks on the counter somewhere. Really no need to show that they’re filled to the brim with Hawaiian Punch and Kiwi Kool-aid. Thorpiverse was willing to let your imagination run wild but they’re there. Rest assured.

And if filling half the collection of plastic cups with Squoze Drink Mix wasn’t enough, Again, Jaquan has the Mr. Coffee contraption a-brewin’ for good measure. If he dies of thirst after all the trouble, he must have sewn his mouth shut. I know reading Law 333 can be intense and you need to do more listening and reading than talking but this is ridiculous.

“Missss-ter Case, why are you sit-ting in your seat with that my-ri-ad bun-dle of strings attached to your embouchment?”

“Well, you see, Kingsfield, he just feels that if you want to learn law, you should come with your ears open and your mouth sewn shut.”

“I see. Today’s lesson covers Property Law in relation to damages…”

Stating the obvious

After a teacher somewhere in England is prosecuted for having sex with 4 teenaged students

“I’m going to go to prison for this.”

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Ms. Risk Cleared Of Charges After Accusations Of Improper Behavior With Bobby Howry And Tiki Jansen!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I’m in my room with my typewriter all day. Luhm brings me lunch at 9:00PM, but that’s it!!!!!!!!!!”

 

At Donna Stone’s residence

“Dr. Stone, I know you have Boy Scout Jamboree, Cancer Research Seminar, Jeff’s golf match at Hilldale Country Club against the Mudlarks, and Mrs. Stone’s Bake-Off at The Bucket all in one night but you are being subpoenaed to the Milford Superior Court.”

“Donna, can’t you slip out one the Bake-Off is over? You’re a cinch to win the Frosting portion of the competition anyway.”

“Well, I think I can beat Mimi at her own game and then head on to the School Board meeting. Mimi uses generic flour on all her Dutch chocolate and coconut cakes. I’m not worried. BTW, Alex, where is that smoke coming from?”

“It’s coming from next door!!!!!!!!!!! My goodness, did Jaquan forget to turn off the Mr. Coffee machine again?”

Is Jaquan borrowing the Thorps’ verandah even as I type? You know tyhe old saying, when Gil’s away, the mice will play. Leaving the possibilities for another time, I have finally deduced that those are Hi-liters, not bullet shells on the table there. Doubtin’ that Jaquan pursued an early morning fox hunt before he curled up with a tome on international law. He’s just trying to get smarter, Gang. Nothing like being prepared for Fall.

Gang, I apologize, Mom came to town and She’s done A LOT for me and sacrificed A LOT for me and I couldn’t turn her away. The material is coming, trust me. Thanks for your patience.

 

“Sittin’ in Gil’s chair reading parliamentary law

Waitin’ for Fall class to begin

Birds are dropping on page 1-0-3

Woe is me

Find another tree…”

 

The inspiration for “Venus & Mars Rock Show”. Who’da thunk it. And really, it all started when he poured a cartoon-duration (i.e., Fred Flintstone never spills over the table and hits the saber-tooth cat or Dino when he’s pouring brontosaurus milk on his Fruity Pebbles) length of Nestea in his ULINE cup. The man has talent. He’ll have tenure before the next election at that rate.
Now if he can find another catalpa tree without a bird’s nest, he’s in business.

 

At Sanford & Son’s junkyard

“Mr. Sanford, you’re going to have to go to court to state why Tiki must go back to Rockville when he already lives in Rockville.”

“Hush yo’ mouth. I ain’t gonna go to no judge an’ tel’ him that Tiki kin stay wher’ he’s at. There’s laws statin’ he’s just as good as his hometown. Tha’s final, I ain’t gonna put my John Henry on nuttin'”

“Aw, come on, Pop. Them kids beat him to a pulp and all he’s trying to do is make a better life for himself. Right, Hadley Virtueless?”

“I’m afraid so. If I have to get a court order, I will. I suggest you make this easy on yourself, Mr. Sanford.”

“Yeah, Fred, you miserable jackass. What’d dat kid evuh do to you? Steal one of yore hubcaps? It’s bad enough you lost yore shirt tryin’ to cut a deal wid Gil and Mimi haulin’ their trash away. Like wut were ya gonna do wid dat aquarium they wuz throwin’ out? Build a swimmin’ pool by da trash compactor in yore back yard?”

“Esther, if I did, I wouldn’t put a shark in there wid yore dentures. Charlie the Tuna would eat ol’ Jaws alive.”

“Fred, if you don’t sign dat dere paper, I is gonna knock you out wid my Bible. If I can belt 10 muggers on a subway cold dead, you KNOW what it’ll do wid YOU!!!!!!!”

“Plus you’ll have a bench warrant AND a black eye. Now sign this paper.”

“You hear dat, Elizabeth? Dis is da Big One!!!!!!!! I’m bein’ blackmailed!!!!!!!!”

“Awwww, shut up, Pop. Sign the document and let’s go. Coach Kaz is paying us nicely for towing his Volkswagen Jetta off his property. But we got a half an hour before he goes on vacation. We better get his check NOW or we’re cooked, Man. Here’s a pen.”

 

Today’s Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Cleared Of Molestation Charges At Milford High School!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I was just in the gym rehearsing ELO’s ‘All Over The World’!!!!!!!!!!”

“Look after Jaquan. See that some harm is done to him.”

I don’t think Hugo Drax will be successful if Jaws’ cousin in P2 (NOT the animal, you ninnies) continues to sport notebooks that for once look like notebooks, not the See Spot Run rudimentary loose-leaf cigarette packs we’re used to seeing.

“See Dick read Bel-Air. It says “Warning: Smoking has been found in the labs to be hazardous to the fetus-”

‘Dick, you dumbass’, says Jane, ‘That’s a notebook. Mom says so. Right now look at Spot. See Spot chew up notebook. He thinks it’s a Milk Bone.’

‘Then who’s ‘Marlboro Man”? asks Dick.

‘He’s a BAD man,’ says Jane. ‘His treachery is worth 100 loose-leafs. Or 50 Marty Moons if you’re counting in Eurodollars.’

‘Who’s Marty Moon?’, asks Dick.

‘Wait until we get to page 15 and see Spot attack a donkey’, says Jane.”

 

If ya gotta go to court after the lawyer went ta see the Brady Bunch and Ozzie and Harriet Nelson and Larry the Cable Guy and Eight is Enough becuz ya gotta testify against yore best friend after he got arrested for Drunk and Disorderly Conduct at a T-Ball game at Milford Sports Complex includin’ peein’ on home plate before the kiddies started infield practice, ya might be a redneck.

And what in the name of Ricky Nelson is up with the verandah design in P2? Is this an infinite convergent pattern that will reach the asymptote (or NOT reach it, really) somewhere by the Milford Water Tower? God, no wonder why Jaws’ one leg is shorter than the other. Make yourself at home, Jaquan. While your one leg is stuck in the sewer line, your other one should stretch TO New Thayer. Looks like a winning case to me. Gotta get there and back if ya wanna live to tell about it. Just stand up and do the 7th-inning stretch and things oughta go off without a hitch.

 

At the Cleaver residence

“Ward, do you think Beaver should go before a judge? It might be a little daunting.”

“Nonsense, June. It’ll teach him responsibility. He needs to learn to tell the truth under oath after witnessing Lumpy Rutherford and Eddie Haskell throwing eggs at Gil’s ranch house.”

“I agree, Mr. Cleaver. If Beaver will sign right here next to the Ballard Insurance policy, we’re good to go.”

“Gosh, Beaver, don’t be a dope and sign the wrong paper. Dad doesn’t need any coverage for his Harley. He already has one with Milford State Farm Insurance.”

 

And that is a pre-cursor into P3. God, this is just opening itself for abuse.

“Let me discuss the matter with my partner.”

“I don’t know, Chico. You might want to ask The Man first before the ink dries.”

No

Well, Hell, Hadley Verdure was the only female in the living room but still believe Thorpiverse keeps it heterosexual, although allowing for strong possibilities for same-sex marriage to thrive in Milford

Who in the world are all these people that Thorpiverse keeps throwing at us? It’s bad enough that I thought that the dude to the left was putting on his Ninja outfit but hard to imagine his doing that in front of ANYONE, much less Hadley Valley Tech. I now know that he is crossing his leg. getting your eyes adjusted will do that.

We STILL have the issue of going from Kenny Rogers to Nancy Kulp to today’s Chico & The Man  with the unfortunate sidenote that this reads more like an Anne Tyler novel than a sports plot. Really, when I read the sports scoreboard, I’m not expecting to see the entire story of “The Accidental Tourist” next to the bowling scores but that’s pretty much the long and tall of it. Maybe one day Thorpiverse will quit reading V. C. Andrews and publish REAL sports. Gil posing with his putter is a good start. It might be a long way from Putt-Putt to football scrimmage but remember, you only chew an elephant one bite at a time.

BTW, I’d like that lamp in Mr. Fleming’s living room. I’ve been wanting to revamp my household with a neo-Art Deco atmosphere. Name your price, Mr. Fleming.

 

All righty then, Gang. It’s your turn. I’m going to join in the conversation in P3. I thought it was awful nice for Mr. Fleming to treat everybody to pterodactyl eggs and show everybody his stick figure drawings that he’s got on the coffee table. That should lighten the mood. Just gotta watch the egg count. My doctor said watch the cholestrerol.

 

Da da, da BOM BOM

“Bull shit”

Da da, da BOM BOM

“Just qvit”

Da da, da BOM BOM

“Football”

Da da, da BOM BOM

“Don’t stall”

 

“I say he stays”

“It looks zat vay”

“In Fall he will be therrreeeeee”

As Eddie Albert stomps his pitchfork for extra emphasis on Ballard’s toe. Green Acres, Green Suit, life couldn’t be greener. Shouldn’t extend to Ballard’s teeth but Thorpiverse never told Ballard to say “Ah”, maybe because the face would collapse if he did. Darn, we’ll never know.

July 25, 2019

“And I Always Call 400 Lawyers When I Always Owe 400 Mil…”

072519When I wake up, I know where I wanna be I wanna sleep with the man

Who’s gonna marry me

When I’m angry, so angry I could shit I know I’m gonna shine a heat lamp

On my father’s head

When I throw up, I know it’s cuz I ate too much all this fancy cooking

Clogging up my butt

When I clean up, I know I need some Clearasil I know that wart was

Just one fancy zit

 

And I always type 400 briefs and I always fax 400 lawyers

Just to be sure that the case is closed

And we’re not left hanging by our drawers

 

da da dun dun

da da dun dun

da da dun dun

da da dun dun

Always fax 400 lawyers

da da dun dun

da da dun dun

da da dun dun

da da dun dun

Not get shot stripped down to our drawers

 

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!! IT’S GOT ME. THERE’S ONE MORE FROG ON THE ISLAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!! RAY MILLAND HAS ALREADY GOTTEN EATEN BY AN 8-FOOT KERMIT THE FROG AND AN 8-FOOT MISS PIGGY ATE HIS REMAINS FOR DESSERT, HELP!!!!!!!!!! HELP!!!!!!!!!-Oh, it’s you, Mrs. Baxendale. For a moment, I thought you were the Goodyear Blimp but sometimes when Salvador Dali is the artist as in P1, these optical illusions can be quite a sight for sore eyes. I figured that you were inflated to 35 lb/psi when I didn’t see any blimp messages, e.g. “Eat at The Bucket this week for Daily Daquiris Hour, 3-4 P.M. every day, Cherry Daiquiri topped with Bucket Cool Whip, 1/2 off” or “Goodyear Steel-belted, 2-Ply, All-weather, 36,000 Mile Warranty, Looks-Like-They-Ran-Over-Mrs.-Baxendale’s-Visage Radials, 4 for $450, Only at Milford Tire and Wheel”.

 

Because I stand in befuddlement when people who should know better get attacked by bison at Yellowstone National Park that involved a 9-year-old getting head-butted by one, prompting me off-hand to say that when enjoying wildlife

KEEP YOUR DISTANCE AT ALL TIMES

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Almost Stampeded By A Herd Of Moose At Milford Nature Area, Manages To Climb An Elm Tree To Safety!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

sub headline

“‘I thought Cochrane was scary when he pleaded his case with Ito until I tried to feed one of them some Wheaties'”

 

And where in the name of Jerry Pulver are Mrs. Baxendale and Hadley Venom? As long as we’re going to talk herds of lawyers and keeping your distance from them (gotta watch ’em. They like to feed in the same area as the black bears in the Smokies) , I’d like to know the venue where Hadley Veronica is pouring her heart out with mamma, lawyers, Papa Warbucks, er, Baxendale, or the Cubs (GOTCHA, Robmize-ha) .

Well, it’s the same brick wall that Pink Floyd used for The Wall but I don’t see any queers in the theater tonight (even tho Mrs. Baxendale DEFINITELY doesn’t look right) to get up against a wall or anyone with spots, let alone have any of them shot (just reading off the album’s cheat sheet) and I don’t think David Gilmour frequents a place that has all the atmosphere of a minimum security fortress so I’m gonna go ahead and rule that out if it’s OK with the rest of you.

And I’m almost positive that they’re not in the studio where The Police are remastering Zenyatta Mondatta. No “Don’t Stand So Close To Me” while Hadley Verdant is wailing about Daddy Warbucks. Read the sign, Gang. It’s KENYATTA, not Zenyatta. You do know your Z’s from your K’s, right? The 400 lawyers are not the chorus backing Sting on “De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da”. Just thought I’d get that straightened out ahead of time.

And again, it really doesn’t look like Shawshank, the bricks look too modern. And Andy Du Fresne would be coming out of Mr. Baxendale’s tub anytime after he left a hole in the wall behind Mrs. Baxendale. Boy, the case brief the 400 lawyers would have to file for that one.

Hey, I’ll go with some Joe Blow coffee shop meant to promote ATMOSPHERE while this pile of Quaker Oats gets steeper and steeper. And that’s not the half of it. Didn’t they just get done shooting a scene of intramural football? Didn’t that replace the Putt Putt Miniature Golf plot? And weren’t they supposed to get together at another IHOP in New Thayer because the New Thayer Creme de la Creme Bon Cuisine et Le Plus Bon Vin dans le Soleil du Centre de Paris burnt to the ground because the toilet’s circuitry got mixed with the Dutch oven? And does Thor strike coffee cups to the ground too? Man, that piece of porcelain Mrs. Baxendale is drinking out of got burnt at the stake. Thor must have angered Zeus and vice versa and they both took it out on Poseidon’s corningware. Mythology couldn’t generate any more interest.

 

When I speak up, I know she’ll only have a cow she’ll never take me

To Milford Six Flags again

When I read up (When I read up) The Vulcan Times has published dates of all the times

Captain Kirk jump-starts his ship

Oh my daughter (oh my daughter) , I know she wants to marry rich so I won’t be her

Sugar Daddy in escrow

When I find out, you know I’ll make sure that he’s buying out the

7-11 shelf of IUD’s.

 

And I’d always drive 400 miles just to loan her account 400 bucks

Gotta make sure the ATM won’t overdraw

So she won’t wind up SOL

 

Da Da Dun Dun

Da Da Dun Dun

Da Da Dun Dun

Da Da Dun Dun

Spot her balance 400 bucks

Da Da Dun Dun

Da Da Dun Dun

Da Da Dun Dun

Da Da Dun Dun

So she won’t wind up SOL

 

Ooooooooooookkkkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back to bring sanity and order to a plot that has wandered off into Milford Natural Area. I don’t think it’s feeding time for the leopards yet. Anyway, take ‘er away, Gene

“Dumb Dora was soooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought Zenyatta Mondatta was a country on Mr. Baxendale’s head, next to ___________________”

 

As long as the soap opera is going from “Days of Our Lives” to “Another World” to “General Hospital” to “One Live to Live”, leap-frogging to “Dallas” to “Falcon Crest” in the same hour on the same channel (feel sorry for the sponsors) ,  I’d like some verification if you wouldn’t mind.

It’s a reasonable assumption that any dad only wants the best for his daughter and that’s really the gist of Mrs. Baxendale’s conversation (she’s married to the equivalent of J. R. Ewing, after all) . What’s NOT reasonable is the conversation protruding from Hadley Viniculum in P2. I never talk about my personal life with ONE lawyer, much less 400 of them. Nope, not gonna divulge to 400 Perry Masons who I’m gonna marry next or what I ate at the school cafeteria in the 3rd grade. If you’re gonna work out your life ahead of you and we’re gonna assume (I’M gonna assume anyway) it’s gonna be with Jaquan, it’s really unnecessary to call The Shark. Unless you run into each other in the bathroom because he slipped on a bar of soap and his butt crushes your face, well, yeah, I’d call 1-FON-THE_JAWS. Then it would be a horse of a different color.

“The Case of the Milford Moto-Lodge Capers”.

Boy, what channel is Perry Mason on? And right after Dobie Gillis?

 

Your only dad? Hadley Vector, at last count, and here I’m speaking biologically, you really only have one of them. I’m sure you can dig up in your Star Trek video collection an episoed where Dr. McCoy told Captain Kirk that the former was the father of the latter even though the latter also had a dad in Oelwein, Iowa who worked as a farmer when he wasn’t moonlighting as a factory worker and, oh yeah, that one in Visalia, California who’s been a career census worker, oh shoot, I forgot about the one in Bennington, Vermont who works the National Forest collecting specimens for Williams College and, oh yeah…

 

If ya have to call 400 injury lawyers cuz the crossing guard at the railroad didn’t function right cuz the squirrels escaped from the contraption pullin’ the crossing guard cuz they seen some walnuts on the ground and the Milford & Oakwood ran over yore pickup truck and they’re gonna have to ampyatate yore right leg and yore truck bed at Milford General, ya might be a redneck.

 

THE PLAY-DOH FACE IS BACK IN P3!!!!!!!!! That’s right, he was Lou Grant yesterday, today he’s Chief O’Hara, relaxing before he has to call on the Batphone that is sitting there on the counter in the kitchen. Get out of the way, Mrs. Baxendale, The Joker and his gang are holding the 400 lawyers hostage at Hadley Virgo’s office.

And if that’s not the Batphone, WHAT IS IT? Talk about Pantheon of Mysterious Objects. This one takes the cake. And maybe that’s literally. Of course, when you’re done lapping up all the Betty Crocker Butternut Cake Mix, ya gotta store the rest of the batter SOMEWHERE. Can’t use the fridge. Don’t put in it in the Salt and Pepper rack. And don’t even THINK of storing it in the cupboard next to the Minute Rice. I think we’ve nailed this one.

And when Rubber Face is done reading the sports section in the Kanamit Plain Dealer, maybe he’ll listen to his wife. And maybe we’ll find out what’s eatin’ him.

“They wouldn’t let Jaquan referee that 7-on-7 scrimmage? My daughter fought the State High School Athletic Association over his eligibility. NBA players only had to have a score of 75 on the State Exam.”

Well, I had to take a stab. I’ll narrow this one down. Promise.

 

“Honey, come to bed. You can read the Vulcan Times for another day.”

“But there’s an interesting article on Dr. Spock’s virginity. He hasn’t had sex on another dimension at all. The planet Ganymede was barren in more ways than one.”

“I can take you to Jupiter if you’ll give me a chance. Let me inflate you the way I inflate my face.”

“It says it takes 76 light years before he could copulate with a Vulcanette. She could buy Mary Kay Cosmetics from her Mary Kay sales lady from Deneb in the meantime. He was shooting at Darth Vader while trying to work up an orgasm.  God, no wonder why he never could get it on.”

“But I’m right here. You can get it on in 2 seconds.”

“Um, let me call Hadley V. one more time. I just want to make sure they’re sleeping in separate bunks, she on top and he on the bottom. I’d hate to hear they ruined the Holiday Inn towels because the relationship was top-heavy.”

“Darling, it’s 1:00AM. I’m sure they’re sound asleep and the bunks are at a proper angle. Even though they’re probably snuggled up in the same bunk.”

“NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!! The whole damn thing will collapse and cause an earthquake in Milford. They wouldn’t dare sleep together in the top bunk!!!!!!!! That’s why you don’t put Red Sovine and his semi’s on the top branch of a redwood!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I’m sure they slept on the bottom. And we need to sleep on the bottom too. In this Serta.”

“You don’t put a Serta on a redwood either!!!!!!!!!! The grizzlies might sleep in it and where would my daughter stay for the night???????”

“Darling, are you flat AS a bunk bed?”

 

“There was no two ways about it. I had to confront my daughter’s future and my own future with my sexuality. And when I climbed down from the redwood after wrestling with the devil and a grizzly for my Blessing, I went to Milford Men’s Clinic. With treatment programs that will make my sexual life taller than Jaquan and with proven medications sure to inflate matters bigger than my wife’s face when she gets puffed up herself when at the County Jail Snack Bar in a mother-daughter tete-a-tete, I feel like a new man again. Lou Grant with an attitude. Come see for yourself at Milford Men’s Clinic. What have you got to lose except your virginity?”

 

Comment away. I’m checking out all the deals Rural King has on the planet Io. I need a riding mower. The grass is getting brown on my lawn on the planet Mars.

 

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Kaz Almost Loses Arm At Milford Petting Zoo!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Was trying to caress a croc when it was munching on jowl bacon at feeding time.”

 

 

 

 

And I always walk 400 miles just to give this plot 400 barbs

Can we just forget the summer now

If it were beer, it’d have only 400 carbs

 

Da Da Dun Dun…

July 23, 2019

Whose Life Is It Anyway?

072319

Golf plot in your pocket

Lipstick in your hand

Dine with the Rockefellers

You’re now the 21st-Century Man

 

Family can’t afford it

Brie and wine too dear

But you will pay for dinner

Jaquan will foot the beer

 

Tho you ride on the wheels of tomorrow

You still wander this plot of sorrow

What will it bring?

 

And I won’t lie, being a Christian, I’m not enthralled about the living arrangement in P1 or overall. I think responsibility does come into play in ANY relationship.

That said, at least the scenery so far has been G-rated. Sure, Fred and Wilma may be shacked up at the Bedrock Moto-Lodge before Wilma V. Baxendale becomes Wilma V. Flintstone (or V. Baxendale-Flintstone if she wants to carry on the family name and still enjoy being married to a guy who will work at the Bedrock Quarry when he’s not slam-dunking for Generic NBA Lakers or Celtics) but Fred isn’t walking around the motel grounds in his boxers to get ice at the ice machine. Not that that would be sexy to watch a civilized caveman or Jaquan, you decide, be casual spending $2.00 at the Coke machine for a Sprite. And then there’s his mother-in-, correction, FUTURE mother-in-law. She keeps this G-rated if only to retain matters on the level aesthetically

“Wiiillllllmmmmaaaaa, have you seen a towel? I just got out of the shower. Damn, you see so many Holiday Inn towels in people’s bathrooms. Hell, Rubble’s got a collection of ’em to wipe his ass with when he runs out of Charmin, but there ain’t one hangin’ on the towel rack here? Call room service and-”

“FRED FLINTSTONE!!!!!!!!!! This isn’t the Men’s dorm at Bedrock State!!!!!!!! And buy some new Hanes!!!!!!!!!!!! The Bedrock Costco has a BOGO sale this week!!!!!!!!!! You have paint stains all over them!!!!!!!!!!! Take those holey drawers and throw them in the trash before the maid comes to clean up!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“I love my mother-in-law, I love my mother-in-law…”

 

And today’s post will be accompanied by Electric Light Orchestra’s “21st-Century Man.” I have always loved ELO, they just led a hit parade from “Evil Woman”, “Strange Magic”, “Livin’ Thing”, and “Hold on Tight”, the last song off the same album as “21st-Century Man”, Time. They keep playing these tunes and others on the Muzak channels. Timeless.

 

And so after Jaquan finished his Run-to-the-North-Pole-and-back routine (“Hadley, I just set a PB!!!!!!!!!!!!!”) , Jaquan gets in his suit he bought on lay-away at Milford Big ‘n’ Tall and by dingies, he pulls a Foghorn Leghorn and utters a funny. Let’s listen.

“You know how many roller skates Daddy Warbucks retains in his closet?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t either but Milford Skate-o-Rama will receive quite a haul bequeathed from his will when he chokes on the Chablis on the table that is actually Palmolive.”

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA

 

“Oh, Madge, you sure Milford Valley Dom Perignon Vintage 1897 Maraschino Cherry Boulevard du Reves Rompu is non-abrasive and good for washing the dishes and serving later at the Bridge Club meeting?”

“Hell, you’re soaking in it.”

“I didn’t know you could cuss in a ’60’s daytime commercial.”

“This is Thorpiverse. Think of Lobachevsky’s Theorem and you can make an equilateral triangle into The Rat Patrol.”

 

If ya cain’t leave th’ friendly confines o’ Milford and inn-dolge in all them thar fancy-shmancy rest’rants in Central City and dine with th’ new-voh ree-chees cuz ya couldn’t jump yore pickup truck cuz jumpin’ thuh batt’rey might set off an uh-tomic explosion not even th’ Manhattan Project kin corral, ya might be a redneck.

 

Talking over problems

While playing a game of chess

Plates arranged as a pawn chain

The middle piece a bowl of kress

 

Where will Jaquan play next

It’s part of a Master Plan

The family’s enduring needless worry

She’s now the 21st-Century Man

 

Tho your clueless on where he’ll play tomorrow

You won’t live in a gutter of sorrow

Income with no strings

 

And since we ARE in Central City, playing along with the bit of emphatic tone that Thorpiverse brings to another Rockville on the map, it’s leaving me hanging. As in what’s in the water in Central City that’s NOT in Milford? Yeah, I know, Milford Exterminating Experts could do a better job of snuffing out the roaches at the Milford Country Club, especially at the diner and the bathrooms. It would kill anybody’s appetite to munch on a Grilled Fromage et Tomates Sandwich avec Le Vin Blanche while something’s scurrying across the grill.

But The Central City Chateau (“Fine Exquisite Dining in the middle of Hicktown”, their motto) may have gotten a thumbs up and a 5-star rating from the American Automobile Association but I’m seeing flaws in its evaluation.

Take the window, for example. Did the person doing the evaluating have to fight through that permanent lightning bolt in the window while trying to see if you could see Milford Valley or Mt. Milford on a clear day? And what was he eating? Rice Chex? Ravioli e Uovos Frescos Cacciatore? A lump of coal? Sometimes Anthracite can affect your judgment looking out THAT window.

Then there’s the table. What could the evaluator have been thinking? Did he get intoxicated from the Egg Plant Souffle dipped in Beer Nuts when trying to figure out the M.C. Escher pattern? Picnic table hocked from the Central City Softball Complex and hope nobody notices by throwing a few of Granny Clampett’s quilts on top or King James I version of the Bible because he couldn’t fathom all the ancient Greek beveled edge job? The picture of Bill Wither’s grandson in the foreground isn’t helping the perspective.

Then there’s the pieces on the board, I mean, plates on the table. C’mon, Mr. Evaluator, what’d they get out of Central City Creek in terms of corningware that they couldn’t get out of Mudlark Lake? I’ve seen several pieces of fine china being dragged out of the lagoon, thank you very much. No sensible person would stoop low in Milford to eat his or her Beanie Wienie’s at the Milford Country Club off of paper plates. Milford has culture too, y’know. Since when did Central City corner the market on the Sistine Chapel? Oh, I forgot, you can’t see it behind the Central City Gas ‘n’ Goodies, it’s blocked off by the mighty hand of Thor in the window.

 

Ooooooookkkkkkkk, nothing like Gene Rayburn to get things back on track. Take ‘er away, Gene.

“Dumb Dora was soooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought that streak in the window was a picture of Mr. Baxendale’s ________________.”

 

Gang, I’m gonna say it. Can I say it? Go on and say it, T. Drew, and quit wasting people’s time.

The artwork in P2 is PITIFUL.

If Central City Chateau is the shit around their Hicktown metropolis, why’d they have to steal gigantic flapjacks from the Milford IHOP? Discussing something as semi-urgent over a plate of a mutant Eggo waffle? Covered by Aunt Jemima and an aluminum covering? Like George and Louise Jefferson, we’re movin’ on up. With wine and glasses of Aquafina to complement the haute cuisine. I’m just workin’ up an appetite.

And evidently, Mrs. Baxendale has a voracious one at that, given her propensity at stabbing her pancake with a steely knife. It doesn’t look like you can kill this beast of a pancake but Mrs. Baxendale is trying. I’ll give her that. If and when she hits paydirt, it will surely add another chin or two to her Etch-a-Sketch conglomerate on the lower part of her face.

And while Mr. Baxendale is kibbutzing the Queen’s Gambit Accepted, has anybody noticed that he went from Ed Asner to Murray Slaughter, all with the grace and aplomb of a few deft strokes in the makeup room? Surely not Hadley Virtual Plot’s makeup room? Oh, well, as long as Jaquan and Hadley Virgin were sleeping in separate beds, it’s OK.

STILL, this is pretty confusing, Shakertown Revisited notwithstanding. At least Jaquan has his chastity belt on and his bald head has been consistent, Herman Munster meets Mr. Clean. Chaste behavior at its finest.

Would you pass the Karo, Mr. Slaughter?

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Treating Out-of-Town Dignitaries To Night On The Town At MCC!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“‘Card maxed out so Cochrane covered the rest.”

 

And just to tie up a few loose ends (Oh joy oh joy) , I just thought of something. That’s not Gavin MacLeod as Murray Slaughter. The huge crack in the window is blocking the view of the Adriatic Sea and that’s Gavin MacLeod as the Captain of The Love Boat. I was thrown off by Herman Munster’s hand he’s using to raise his wine glass as a toast but you weren’t going to fool THIS Twimer for very long.

And it’s a Love Boat episode. Jaquan and Hadley Venezia (hush, they’re in the Adriatic Sea, close enough) are going to rent out a $10,000 Luxury Suite with faucets that spout out dolphins and soapy water, good when you want to watch Flipper on Nick at Nite and take a shower, and wine made from grapes stomped on right in the living room (And they’ll even clean the mess.) , AND a bed made from the finest wool that Odysseus and his men used when they escaped Polyphemus.

They’ll trash each other and use each other and Jaquan won’t even have to employ the services of the Milford Men’s Clinic. But the Captain will intervene and tell them that the episode only lasts an hour and that not only are they violating good taste, they’re running over into Fantasy Island. Point well-taken. Opening the door after a quickie to get a quick bite to eat at the ship’s snack bar and confronting Ricardo Montalban and some midget shouting “The plane!!!!! The plane!!!!!!!” would make me want to grab that mutant poplar plant off the table in self-defense. Gotta do what ya gotta do.

Finally, Ricardo and The Captain will convince them to get married, that they’ll have plenty to cover them financially the rest of their lives, the midget will perform the ceremony, the passengers from The Love Boat and Fantasy Island will be in attendance, Barry Manilow’s “Looks Like We Made It” will blare out over the episode and they’ll ride off into the sunset with the credits reeling off at the end of the episode.

Then they’ll trash each other again.

 

Because I really don’t comprehend these injury lawyers trying to project a “We wear blue jeans in the office” image

CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Oh my God!!!!!!!!!! There goes my hand. Quick, get out and get it before the light turns green and that Freightliner runs it over!!!!!!!!!!!”

“No problem. Somebody needs to get on the cell phone and call The Shark!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“I was a fork lift driver for Milford Foundry and without my hand, I’d be out of a job. No way I could stack pallets and pallets of pig iron while driving with one hand. It would take weeks to sew my hand back together and go through the rehab as a result. who would pay the bills? Who would take care of my hospitalization?”

 

“Hi, I’m Joe Sharkey with Sharkey Law office. If you’ve been injured in an accident, you need piece of mind. And I’m here to get you to that El Dorado of a worry-free financial situation.

Once you step into our office, you will be put immediately at ease. Our receptionist shows up a lot of times in a thong bikini or sometimes in her birthday suit. Me, I like to kick back in my Fruit of the Looms while filing a claim. The insurance companies fear a man who takes off his pants to get comfortable in that air-conditioned lobby.

We guide you through your rights while we pick up the doggy doo from our pets we brought in. In fact, we encourage our clients to bring THEIR pets to our office. Somebody once brought in their pet giraffe. Hey, if it can clear the door, we’re geared to prepare a winning case against our opponents. Justice is always a different animal.

And we always keep the out house in the rear of our office in excellent running condition. No cobwebs on the door while you’re taking a dump. If we’re going to fight the insurance companies on our terms, running water and Orkin are a must.”

 

“I felt at ease the minute I stepped into the place. I sat down on a seat cushion that covered the receptionist’s fart stains and me and The Shark got right down to business. And I walked away from the office with a great deal of satisfaction. Later, when I got a generous check from The Shark, I had no problem with giving him his 20%, rip in the crotch or no rip in the crotch. He could buy 20 pairs of Haggar slacks at Milford Men’s Wearhouse with his percentage. And I could FINALLY return to work, able to shake his hand, even after he’d wiped himself after a trip to the out house. Thanks, Shark.”

“You heard the man. Don’t let the insurance companies bilk you out of house and home. Let the people who can throw an orgy at Christmas time better than Milford Girls-a-Go Go Club show you how you can get compensation for your injuries. Call 1-FON-THE-JAWS today.”

 

Gang, comment to your heart’s content. I think Granny Clampett and Herman Munster are making their point LOUD AND CLEAR in P3, don’t you? I think they’ll have several more quickies, sure, but Herman can work for Roadway. Gavin forgets retirement from sports is not death. You just gotta pass your A License exam. Piece of cake.

 

Granny with her white streak

Herman with his tan

They’ll both head off to Paradise

She’s now the 21st-Century Man

 

Tho you ride on this plot that you borrowed

You still ramble the fields with much sorrow

OH THE SORROW

21st-Century Mannnnnnnnnnnnnn

21st Century Mannnnnnnnnnnnnn

21st Century Mannnnnnnnnnnnnn…..

 

“No problemo. We can stick your water buffalo out back and let him wallow in the pool. Now, how’d the Baylor semi mash your leg?”

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