This Week in Milford

November 28, 2019

Get Out Of This Comic Strip, You Misguided Puppet.

112819

For Thanksgiving,  I wish nothing but the finest for all of you. May God have you prosper at work, at home, and with your family.

I am VERY thankful for the TWIMers who keep this thing going. You amaze me, people. What started out with one person has branched out into a pitch-in campaign and that’s what makes the humor that much more effective. In the nearly two years on the staff, I humbly sit back and watch you people write your stuff and I am never disappointed.

I am nothing without Jesus Christ. He makes it possible to write this nonsense and I praise Him several times over. He has blessed me on the site and off the site, i.e., my family, home, work, everyday living, and that makes Thanksgiving truly a holiday for me.

You may worship a different God. If so, give Him your best if you don’t worship mine, is all I ask. Either way, a HUGE thank you for all that you do, Gang. Again, Thanksgiving is not the same without you. You all mean the world to me.

 

Is Chet Ballard in trouble. How else could you explain the extra Magic Marker stains on his forehead, hair, apparel, beard, well, I wouldn’t go that far on the last one. Maybe lice but not Magic Markers. The lack of trimming of his beard or ethics is enough of a smudge mark(s).

Black Bart, Snidely Whiplash, The Joker, Jerry Pulver have all challenged Gilberto the last 60 years. As you can see, in spite of lack of coaching or styling mousse (dips his hair in the same vat where Crayolas are allowed to cool and settle) , Gilberto is always Last Man Standing. What makes Chet think he’d be an exception? When you have a weasel for a School Superintendent suddenly coming across like Wyatt Earp, Chet should have seen the signs. Wrist snapped back into place after Howard Elston nee Elston Howard finally got his Tinkertoy parts FedExed, conversations with Filet Mignon Head the Receptionist, Mrs. Roh appearing on Divorce Court. You didn’t notice, Chet? You might have a fine six-shooter but if Gil’s been lugging around a cannon for six decades…

“I’m Doug Llewellyn, reminding you that if you’re husband hasn’t pared his beard since FDR implemented the TVA program and is a stiff-necked lout with more teeth than moral behavior, and try as you might to tell him not to pick the lock on the door leading into the students’ records, let alone hot-wire the Macys’ station wagon when the Die Hard battery failed in his own vehicle, don’t call Don Corleone and have him dumped in Mudlark Lake. Take him to court.”

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Judge Wapner Orders Chet Ballard To Hand Over Stolen Records Of O.J.’s College Transcript!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“A lot of good that did. We still wound up in second place in the Milford Parks & Recreation Adult Flag Football League.”

 

And to think, Marjie and Janis Ian thought that Mr. Flex-Name, er, School Superintendent couldn’t bring Chet to his knees. Amazing what happens when you actually exercise your authority, especially when the crime was painfully obvious. Guess he got his head out of his butt and saw daylight and the truth, whichever came first. This Bud’s for you, Flex.

 

Now I’m helpless, it’s a killing spree

This travesty and farce will drive me to the sea

It took some time to plan where I’m coerced to flee

The Mudlark team is all coming after me

I had no thought about my own reward

I cheated without Chance or Charlie’s firm accord

Just don’t say I’m

DAMNED FOR ALL TIME

 

Andrew Lloyd Webber couldn’t have said it any better.

 

Now, come on, Chet. Extenuating circumstances? We’ve been reading the Milford National Toilet for 3-4 months and have observed Gil not doing his job because he was riding in the back seat with Friday and Gannon and have watched Marjie conduct what amounted to an audit when she wasn’t puking with Sam Finn over Manwiches  and Canada Dry during the same length of time and you can’t lie any better than THAT????? You better upgrade your prevarications to “I was bitten by a zombie and therefore was not in  my right mind when I walked in with the combination to the records vault at Milford High School Complex that I stole from Dr. Pearl’s purse under her Pond’s Cold Cream and walked away with Chance’s time at Devil’s Island when Chance was rooming in the same stockade with Papillon” if you want to earn your 30 pieces of silver is all I can say.

 

If ya turn in a poacher and the Con-ser-va-shun Officer tries ta reward ya with 30 pieces of silver but ya turn it down and insist on a 6-month supply of ammo instead cuz ya cain’t shoot an 8-pointer with 30 pieces of silver, especially during bow season, ya might be a redneck.

 

P2-now that we’re in the High Horse section of today’s strip NO WAY do any censures or castigations of a general nature occur WITH A HALO SURROUNDING HIM OR HER. I know we’re going for the inspiration angle here but Gil cussing out Kaz because the laundry lady forgot to wash all the jock straps before kickoff with Gil environed with St. Elmo’s Fire just doesn’t cut it.

But let’s examine a few more examples for all you stubborn mules who don’t know when to say “uncle”.

“Gil, get out of the trash can!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Milford Sanitary Disposal, Inc. picked up the trash this morning. The Totino’s  Supreme is long gone!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Peaches, I’m pumping as fast as I can!!!!!!!!!!!! Why don’t you go brush your teeth? I should be good to go by the time you come to bed.”

“Darling, quit sneaking out with my dentures!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Nobody respects a principal  of the school if she metes out In-School Suspension displaying her gums!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! There’s an ample supply under the sink!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh wow, Beaver, when Dad comes home and finds out that Ms. Rizk caught you jacking off her typewriter, you’re gonna get clobbered!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Somebody’s been dumping rabbit meat in the Spaghetti O’s again and I will fire the next cafeteria lady caught dragging in Bugs Bunny!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Catwoman, I perform oral sex when I’m off the clock!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Now it’s time to send you up the river to the Milford Women’s Correctional Facility!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Always after  me Lucky Charms!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The last one was on the house.

 

I did it cuz I had to, I’m the one who saw.

That Chance never polished all his silly flaws

Moreover there’s an issue that I hate to broach

He lacerated the jaws of his clueless coach

I had not thought about my own reward

Though I wouldn’t mind driving home with Gil’s Accord

Just don’t say I’m

DAMNED FOR ALL TIME

 

And I know that Thorpiverse is trying to create the right mood given the situation at hand but does anyone think Il Barbiere di Siviglia as a Moor is a bit much, especially when it’s mixed in with the clown paint before he lets ‘er rip with Vesti La Giubba? I know Thorpiverse and Pagliacci were collaborating in order to ensure proper effect but putting on clown paint when you’re already a clown, let alone that life goes on even if Mrs. Roh runs off with Steve Luhm is throwing one too many irons in the bonfire at the Milford Pep Rally. And Il Barbiere’s nightmare has just begun, not sidetracked looking like The Joker after Catwoman split on you without signing the divorce papers. Looking like Bozo whwn you’re already Bozo anyway isn’t going to stop Pontius Pilate and his Ring of Fire he borrowed from Johhnny Cash from pointing a finger at you. It’s never too late for Il Barbiere to get his A license and drive semi’s.

 

 

On a recent episode of Texas Ranger Studman Machomaniac Kent Walker Shaw

Racing his butt off in his Range Rover, Texas Ranger Studman Machomaniac Kent Walker Shaw, after leaving the iceberg in the background that had more parallel lines, eyes his target.

“All right, Goofy, take off your  mask and let me see your driver’s license and registration.”

“But I’m not wearing a mask. I just tanned a little too long on the tanning bed at Milford 24-hour Laundromat.

“That;s what they all say. But I noticed you didn’t bring any Mudlark Cling-Free sheets. Dead giveaway. They always wind up with static on their Breeze towels when the sun lamp goes haywire and they don’t have an updated registration.”

“They’re holding up my face.”

 

And I remember from my school days when I attended a Model UN Conference. I represented Austria so I was mainly a minor player since Austria never mixed it up with, say, the U.S. and the USSR in negotiations. Anyway, we had an issue on the table that involved Israel and the PLO. Naturally, true to the real world model of the UN, the one representing Israel and the one representing the PLO are slugging it out, the rest of us trying to mediate the conflict, again as in the actual UN proceedings.

And somewhere in the middle of the presentations, Israel is flailing of course at the PLO but then, while discussing a potential agreement, the Israel representative yielded the rest of his time to the PLO, something Israel would NEVER do in the UN proceedings.

That’s why I had to adjust my set on WDIG-TV. I could have sworn I saw Marty Moon tell the truth about Gil. Sometimes the antenna outside gets chewed on by the raccoon in the neighborhood. Santa has been known to have had one Mudlar-K-Cola Non-Alcoholic too many and trip over the antenna while trying to get to the chimney with his bag of toys. And sometimes Donner and Blitzen dump their poop around the area.

If Santa curbed his reindeer, Chet’s in a lot of trouble. Chet’s running out of friends and if Marty yields the rest of his time to Gil, it’s time to head to Antarctica. Hope he doesn’t mind living with penguins.

 

Thank you for trashing his personal file

We’re grateful for info that’s meant to hurt

You’ll be richly rewarded with coins by the mile

It’s a pleasure to deal with a man of your worth

 

I DON’T WANT YOUR BLOOD MONEY

Oh, why don’t you take it, our wages are good

I DON’T NEED YOUR BLOOD MONEY

You’ve hurt Chance’s chances, we think that you should

 

Think of the many ways you can spend it

The Bucket, a steak house, The Milford Lounge

Just look at it as payment for setting things straight

30 pieces of silver is the least we can

Least we can

Least we can

Scrounge

 

“Don’t go away. We will return for Chance’s crucifixion on Jesus Christ Superstar after these messages. This is WDIG-TV.”

 

At the Milford Soup Kitchen on Thanksgiving

“Good Lord, I just swallowed an army boot!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage claimed they used no fillers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Anybody know the number of The Shark?”

“It’s bad enough that one person got nailed to a tree and another soon to follow but while you’re keeping track of the 39 floggings out there, you can wash YOUR hands of your own affairs by calling  1-FON-THE-JAWS. Thanksgiving handouts shouldn’t have to be hazardous dump roped off by the EPA.”

“I got a check for $4,754,968,256 from Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage after The Shark took out his 20%. I was able to buy the ladles at the Soup Kitchen and shave my scraggly beard. I got tired of looking like Chet Ballard with hand-me-downs he got from Milford Thrift Store. People were always asking me about insurance while I was in line getting mulligan stew dumped on my tray. Now I can scrape my succotash with day-old Wonder Bread in peace. Thanks, Shark.”

“Insurance companies are hard at work covering their own end. Don’t let Gil drop a fly in your soup. Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful, not sorting out elephant turds in sausage that Mr. Thorp calls fillers. If your own Thanksgiving celebration is wet from all the pee that one of your hobo friends at The Kitchen let loose on the Cool Whip, that shouldn’t stop you from enjoying the pumpkin pie. Get the money you deserve to replace the Cool Whip and enjoy your own rhubarb pie.”

“I got 39,576 tubs of Cool Whip stuffed in my locker at the Milford Shelter. I can eat real pumpkin pie and turkey plus Jimmy Dean Pure Pork Sausage as an appetizer. The rest of the money I’ll invest in long-term bonds. Thanks, Shark.”

“You heard the man. come reap the rewards of your own handout. One call, that’s all.”

 

Thanks for your patience, Gang. Thanksgiving was truly good to me today. Working with my great nephew in basketball, playing games with the rest of the kids, being with my mom and dad and several nieces and nephews, while enjoying my sister’s cooking and watching Thanksgiving football just gave me several more reasons to be thankful. I hope you can say the same.

 

Always knew that I’d be a frickin’ Mudlark

Always knew I’d be one if I tried

Then when I leave school

I can lounge like Gil Thorp

So they’ll all emulate us when we die

November 27, 2019

Hasn’t There Already Been an Investigation?

gt11272019

Excuse me but haven’t Marjie, the superintendent and Captain Man Bun already investigated Ballardgate?  What’s left to investigate?  How about some of the details in today’s strip?

P1: How much squirming must it take to get your forearm in front of you to facepalm at that angle?  Careful Chet, you’ll poke your eye out.

P2: We’re on to the third day in a row where people are just reading Marjie’s article aloud to other people.  I can see why Gil looks a little pissy, especially since Mimi’s leaning over him to point at what she’s reading.  (Bet she’s one of those people whose lips move when they read to themselves.)  It’s enough to distract him from his carbo loading. Must have a heavy day of lifting with Kaz on the agenda.

P3 triggered a lot of childhood memories for me, as I remember fondly the day my father bought me a Howard Elston catcher’s mitt. Superintendent Elston looks like a lot of recycled art pasted together: Lee Corso’s head with Paulie Walnuts’ hair spliced atop a  torso Walt “No Neck” Williams style, an odd suit jacket with contrasting lapels and a pocket square but no necktie, and topped off with Whigham’s signature gesticulating hand.  He gets the “immediate” part of the investigation; not so sure about the “thorough” though, as he sends his female charge off with no real direction.

That’s all I have to say about that.  Tip of the hat to Rubin for reminding me of the first black Yankee and the man who had the unfortunate task of having to fill Yogi Berra’s shoes.

 

November 12, 2019

Elephant? What Elephant? In This Room?

111219

Drinking my Maxwell House one day, puttin’ the vinyl “Double Fantasy” on the turntable

 

People say it’s silly

Lost and confused

 

TWIMers think it’s messy

Blowing my fuse

 

When Chet exclaims with a straight beard

That Dumbo’s not around

I flip a coin between Gil and Chet

For who’s the bigger clown

 

I’m just sittin’ here watchin’ this plot spin ’round ‘n’ ’round

I really loathe this cruddy show

 

May we depart this hopeless merry-go-round

We just got to let it go

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Bruce Wayne Is Removed As A Suspect In Batman Case!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford Transportation Board spokesman said that Batmobile required a B License Endorsement, something not presently in Mr. Wayne’s possession.”

 

Okay, let me first throw my hat in the ring on the legitimate comments by our TWIMers in relation to education and the newspapers.

It has been my experience that the bigger cities (100,000 or more) are able to sustain a newspaper with its own education reporter. My own city I grew up in, which was in the category I mentioned above, has had for several years and currently has a beat writer covering the news pertaining to schools in the area.

The problem I personally am encountering here is, based on my experiences with reading Gil Thorp (“More fun than a barrel of monkeys”) , Milford is about the size of, say, Vincennes, Indiana or Henderson, Kentucky, 2 cities able to sustain a Wal-Mart and possibly a Kohl’s or Home Depot but still only capable of supporting one public high school and occasionally, as in Vincennes’ case, a private high school, Rivet (Rih-VAY), a Catholic High School.

Therefore, it’s dicey whether the Small Town Gazette is going to carry it’s own education section or have the financial resources to support a reporter in a specialized field like education. Anything’s possible but again too dicey for me.

But this is Thorpiverse and anytime you can get a beat writer like Niah Peters in this case to sit on the upper left-hand drawer when it’s locked shut and discuss with “We’re unclear whether she’s the de facto editor” Ducey about the rhino that escaped Milford Petting Zoo, the logic I mentioned above might as well get thrown in the big pot at Milford High School cafeteria along with the other ingredients in the 12 cans of Campbell’s Chunky Vegetable. Use a spoon, you’ll want to get every drop.

And WHO ELSE do you go to if you suspect a problem? I always thought that’s what School Board meetings are for. If there’s a strong suspicion (and this one’s arm pits are smellin’ PRETTY STRONG) that someone’s not on the up-and-up, what else CAN YOU DO? If the rhino is not in the petting area with the rest of the lambs and goats to feed a bottle of formula, do you go to Bozo the Pope and tell him a rhino is NOT in the room with the elephant? I always thought that’s what a zoo director is for. But let me cross-reference my sources. I’ll get back with you on that one.

Then there’s Janis Ian talking to someone with a neo-Jefferson Airplane hairdo-OH THAT’S MARJIE “SCOOP” DUCEY-about the possible repercussions should they challenge Chet to a toro fight at Milford Municipal Bull Ring. I think the gist of the conversation is that el toreador would be flattened by Big Butt Ballard, beard and all, should they go the procedural route. Okay, okay, I know some of you hoity-toitys out there think they shouldn’t ignore protocol and you might have a point.

But I gotta be fair about this and I am therefore enlisting the aid of Dragnet once again to see if we can resolve this one.

1:29PM. It was cool in Milford. The city had just been hit with snow flurries that tapered off right in line with our investigation. Bill and I were transferered over to the Recreational and Athletic Suspicious and Unwarranted Activity Division of the Juvenile Delinquent Department. The boss is Captain Peters.

We were advised to be on the alert for occurences at the Milford football games in relation to a one Chet Ballard. He was believed to be harboring dirty laundry and illegal records pertaining to one of his stepson’s teammates, Chance Macy. Witnesses said they saw him loading that stuff with a spade shovel in his trunk. We could nail him on Milford Penal Code Section 34 Article 9 Clause 103 “Illegal and Unlawful Work-Related Incidents with Intent to Self-Promote Family and Self, Including Domesticated Animals in Household” but without a search warrant, the only other way we could get him to open his trunk and display the spare records and spare tire was if he lost his key and asked me and Bill for a crowbar. The investigation was running colder than a Bucket Slushee.

Captain Peters suggested I talk to the School Superintendent. A fair proposition. One problem. While conversing with him and Gil down at the Milford Lounge, he informed me (the superintendent, not Gil) that this was out of his bailiwick. His job was to make sure the cafeteria ladies at Milford High had plenty of Handi-Wipes when handling the cheeseburgers so kids wouldn’t contract E. Coli or procure slaughterballs for gym class at Milford Elementary out of the catalogue of Classroom Paraphenalia. Fighting a guy whose razor had seen better days and was now shaving cow hairs for better milk production was not his cup of tea or the flask of Jack he was imbibing. The superintendent wasn’t going to get his retirement doing the right thing even if a sleazeball knew how to work the system the way he maneuvered his Trac II.

“Bill, let’s go get something to eat.”

“What about the case?”

“Hopeless. I could run him out of town on a Section 97 “Unwarranted and Illegal Entry into Public Building” but he could say he was in the Milford School Corporation Annex because his diarrhea medicine was kicking in and the Milford Park Public Unisex House was shut down for the season.”

“Back to square one, aren’t we?”

“Looks that way.”

“I heard the Superintendent tips pretty good at Milford Lounge, I’ll say that for him.”

“We could use some tips from him, all right”

Obligatory somber Dragnet music pipes in

 

Yesterday’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Cleared In Batman Case!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I asked the judge if he could see me in my blue Fruit of the Loom’s fightin’ The Riddler. I think that was the turning point.”

 

People say it’s stupid

Lacking a clue

 

TWIMers call it tepid

Ridiculous too

 

When the hippo dances with the crocs

And crush the furniture

Because nobody bothers to duly note

Chet’s self-imprimatur

 

We’re just sittin’ here watchin’ this plot drag ’round ‘n’ ’round

We’re gettin’ dizzy from all the snow

No need to further prod this merry-go-round

Why don’t we let it go.

 

THE HAND IS BACK

 

You Dark Shadows junkies like yours truly know exactly what I’m talking about.

And what a bad time for it to return, participating in a meaningless and pointless discussion that really shouldn’t be on the agenda in the first place. Heck, send The Hand to scare the living daylights out of Chet like it did us Shadows junkies, otherwise, it might as well be doing Karaoke in P2

At 2:34 A.M. in Chet’s bedroom

“You were always on my minddddddddd-”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAA, GIL, I KNOW IT’S LATE BUT I CONFESS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I POCKMARKED CHANCE MACY’S TRANSCRIPTS SO CHARLIE COULD START AT RUNNING BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!! HE REALLY DIDN’T FLUNK ‘METALS FOR LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENTS’ OR ‘ADVANCE LATIN’!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUST GET IT AWAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“Who was that?”

Gil half-asleep

“I think it was Chet. Something about Chance not getting a D- in Geometry 2 because some hand was grabbing his butt and giving him a wedgie.”

 

Well, if anybody has a better suggestion…

Otherwise, we can always call The Orkin Man as long as we’re going to eliminate valid options. The School Board room is going to look silly because it has personnel either on the School Board or in the Administration Building not willing to observe proper practices because it’s overthinking and overlooking the obvious, along with our cub reporters, but the room will be roach-free. I think that’s an even trade-off.

 

And as for P3, Mr. Lennon proves a song is worth a thousand words

People say it’s cheesy

Got bad reviews

 

TWIMers hate the premise

Yesterday’s news

 

When we fear a gutless myrmidon

With scruples in his beard

School Board regulations

Go the way of a rabic steer

 

We’re just sittin’ here watchin’ this tripe fling ’round ‘n’ ’round

We really hate the rigamarole

Why don’t we cease and switch to basketball

We just have to let it roll

 

WE JUST HAVE TOOOOOOOOOOO LET IT ROLL

Got message?

 

Because I’m a Classic Rock fan who saw Hard Rock in an ad but learned that they were referring to a man’s Erectile Dysfunction and the healing powers thereof

In the basement den late one night, the door double-locked, Coach Shaw blasting The Who

“Honnneeeeyyyyyyy, My ears are scorched and so are my flashes. It’s time to come to beddy bye and have some funnnnnnnnnnn.”

“Not now, Mrs. Shaw, I’m practicing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Honey, What are you breaking? I hope it’s not the Chippendale chair that belonged to my grandfather.”

“Don’t worry, Mrs. Shaw, I have a vise grip that’s holding all these light bulbs I bought at McShane’s Hardware. I’m pretendin’ I’m Pete Townshend and I’m doing a killer windmill with this ukulele, when I’m not smashing it to bits…

LONG LIVE ROCK, I NEED IT EVERY NIGHT

LONG LIVE ROCK

BE DEAD OR ALIVE

 

“Darling, we can do ‘Live at Leeds’ another time. Why don’t you Rock ‘n’ Roll with me?”

“Just when Won’t Get Fooled Again’ s on the turntable? How can you profane a classic like Who’s Next? Heck, I’m doing the part where Keith’s taking a leak at Stonehenge or wherever they hauled that rock from.”

I’LL TIP MY HAT TO THE NEW CONSTITUTION

TAKE A BOW FOR THE NEW REVOLUTION

 

SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Them GE 100-Watt Heat Lamp bulbs will never know what hit ’em with me and Pete smashin’ ’em like overripe pumpkins. Ain’t that the name of a group?”

“Overripe Pumpkins?”

“I thought it was Smashing Cantaloupes”

“Dear, at any rate, at least Loony Moonie dropped his pants on the album cover.”

SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Excusez-moi, Mrs. Shaw, but Roger and me just conked out a lava lamp while twirling our mikes. We’ll clean up the mess later.”

WHY SHOULD I CARE IF I HAVE TO

CUT MY HAIR

I’VE GOT TO MOVE WITH THE FASHION

OR BE OUTCAST

I KNOW I SHOULD FIGHT BUT MY OLD MAN

IS REALLY ALL RIGHT

AND I’M STILL LIVING AT HOME EVEN THO

IT WON’T LAST

“Honey, you won’t be living at home much longer either if you don’t perform a windmill on me.”

SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Just when Quadrophenia is heating up!!!!!!!!!!! And I got some Gorilla-Gro that I applied on my chest so I can have a sexy front like Roger. King Kong twirling a mike to The Punk and The Godfather will drive even the teeny-boppers for Frankie wild. And damn, I thought the Overture would never end. Kinda like the game the other day.”

IF YOU COMPLAIN, YOU DISAPPEAR

JUST LIKE THE LESBIANS AND QUEERS

Coach Shaw blowing on song flute in a well-intentioned attempt to imitate Entwistle’s French horn interlude

YOU’LL START DANCING

 

SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Shit!!!!!!!!!!!!! I smashed my trophy case!!!!!!! Hope the antlers are OK!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“I had to learn the meaning of Hard Rock the hard way. And when my Significant Other was lamer than a dead snake in our back yard, no matter how many windmills I did, I knew it was time to come clean and get my butt down to Milford Men’s Clinic. With proven traetments and proper medication, I can now whip myself in a frenzy from Baba O’Riley and my wife is caught up in the whirlwind and lovin’ it. Isn’t it time you and Pete laid down your guitar and checked in? Your concerts will truly be hard as Rock. Only at The Clinic.”

 

Gang, thank you SO MUCH for your patience. Trying to work this blog in while juggling my new job is a challenge but as Coach Stuard taught me, you learn to get around it. I am thankful for loyal and patient readers like you TWIMers. God bless you all.

 

“IbelieveinMIRACLES

Where you from

You sexy thing-”

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

“Gil, did you forget to go to The Clinic again???”

Turns off Hitachi Sound System in his office

“They were closed for the holiday.”

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Shaw Banned For Life From Milford Holiday Inn!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Local resident drove the family station wagon into the swimming pool.”

October 21, 2019

“WDIG-TV Interrupts This Football Game To Inform Our Viewing Audience That Chance Macy Is The AntiChrist. Sources Have Confirmed That…”

102219

Gadzooks. It’s one thing for Charlie and his honey to be cha-cha-ing or whatever dance they’re doing with their morning cup of Maxwell House but as several people have mentioned, Chet Ballard is skirting the edge of disaster. He really is indeed crossing a line, obtaining information that is serving no other purpose than to advance his own end n his quest to live football through the eyes of his stepson. Chet could be facing serious legal consequences should people get a hold of this one.

NOBODY walks into a public building and just plows through somebody’s record, especially stuff that is more than likely confidential. He just steals keys from the janitor and opens the file cabinet? Then talks it through over Eggos and the new dance craze they learned at the Milford Dance Academy? Then the Milford School Board administers no worse than a potential slap on the wrist? After it gets its head out of Dennis the Menace’s butt and smells the coffee that Chet is slurping? Mon Dieu.

And we were getting good at this football thing.

From an article that informed me that there are 10 mistakes we make with our pets

#1-“Gil, I can’t believe that Alley Oop just hacked the computer without consulting the rest of the Milford School Board. Really, it’s common knowledge that Dr. Pearl has been using Dentu-Creme since the French and Indian War.”

Gil, teaching his giraffe how to fetch the Milford Enquirer when the paper boy throws the paper in the yard

“There ya go, good boy. No, don’t eat the damn thing. That’s what the apples in our neighbor’s yard is for. What’s that, Honey. Oh, yeah, well, sometimes you got to make it official. No sense in ugly rumors spreading out of control. And Alley Oop was authorized by the School Board to conduct a special investigation. Dr. Pearl was stuttering more than usual when she was reading annual test scores. Something had to be done. No, Fido, drop it on the doorstep, not in the azaleas!!!!!!”

#2-Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J.’s Elephant, ‘Ducky’, Stampedes Mudlark Football Stadium, Completely Destroys Dippin’ Dots Stand!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I gotta get a longer leash. I wonder if Milford True Value Hardware sells telephone wire.”

 

And then there’s the background. While Alley Oop and his mate are doing their Travolta thing in P1 while leaking illegal contraband (he is, anyway, she’s jettisoning his blatant lack of privacy ethics just as quick as he’s spewing it while she savors the Folgers in her cup, best part of waking up, I s’pose) , those are either the largest prairie-style windows east of the Mississippi or they are interrupting the proceedings on Wheel of Fortune.

“Is there an ‘R’?”

“YES!!!!!!! There is one ‘R’!!!!!!!! If Mr. Ballard will kindly move his cheap Haggar slacks that he bought at Milford St. Vincent dePaul on layaway out of the way, Vanna can turn the letter.”

“Sorry, me and Mrs. Ballard will move next door to Joker’s Wild.”

“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”

“Go right ahead, Grandma Macy.”

“Coach Kaz Forgot To Feed His Gazelle Alpo Once Again.”(#3)

“You are so correct!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That trip to Antarctica will come in handy when your grandson gets blowtop mad!!!!!!!!! Johnny, tell her what else she’s won…”

 

Come to Sycamore Island in New Albany, Indiana, just beyond the city limits. A great small business with all your hunting and fishinf needs and if you want to get ypur license for either one, Jim Thornton, the owner, will do that too. The place also has a well-stocked pay lake; I see people ALL THE TIME pulling in there, fishing rods in their possession. And if it’s closed, peoole are constantly asking when it’s going to open. I always stop in for the cokes and snacks, and Jim’s got that too. Sounds like the complete package to me. Just head down Main Street West in New Albany like you’re going towards the casino, turn right at the turn-off, Corydon Pike, where Thornton’s gas station is located, go 2 miles until you cross the railroad track, go 100 feet and Sycamore Island is on your left. Can’t miss the sign. Support Jim and Co., where they ALWAYS know your name. They know mine.

 

And having been a coach, you do run across the occasional kid who had to have some kind of institutional care. Unfortunately, kids like that exist and you do your best to ease the situation. Really, the best thing to do is treat ’em like the other players. Everybody wins then.

Just don’t go Via Ballard, an offshoot of the Appian Way, that leads to a Field of Thorns. When in Rome, don’t do what Chet does. To be unearthing that Caesar Augustus was at the Etruscan Boys School and later collected taxes throughout Judea to finance their School Lunch Program is not only unnecessary and illegal, it’s downright pointless. Bob Knight was a HUGE advocate of NOT passing the basketball to the center, say Todd Lindemann, at the half-court line, even on a press breaker. That’s what guards are for, in Knightspeak. What was Todd going to do with ball there?Pass the ball to Todd 2 feet away from the basket and he can better utilize his moves to the bucket, if not lay it in.

Therefore, what is Chet going to do with this illegal bit of news? Kick Chance off the team because he was a lifer at San Quentin and got paroled? Make Chance run steps because his file revealed that he did time at the Milford Minimum Correctional Facility for shoplifting at the Milford Community College bookstore? Huh?

#4-If ya give yore bloodhound a flea bath and ya use turpentine cuz that’s the fastest way ta nuke ’em fleas and ticks but ol’ Bubba winds up smellin’ like an oil change, so ya switch ta Ox-ee-dol cuz it’s soap and won’t make his nose Quaker State 10W40 when he goes sniffin’ fer rabbits when yore huntin’, ya might be a redneck.

 

P2-“…he was assigned to a coach who couldn’t coach his way out of a toilet area on a 747 and still have Charmin left on the rolls. Went by the name of Thorp. Kid’s been at this school for 60 years and is earmarked to graduate the year Coach Thorp retires. By then, that school is set to establish a satellite on the planet Uranus. It is indefinite when any of this will happen because NASA has still yet to receive the proper funding. Collecting Milford Property Taxes can only stretch so far. City officials think once a bond issue is enacted at the City Council, both can graduate. They say Thorp is in the Guinness Book of Records as the world’s oldest teenager and holder for the longest period of senility. Gets that way during football season.”

Name drop? Moi? Surely you jest.

P2(cont.)-“…judge ruled he had a violent temper. He was a lion tamer for the Ringling Brothers Circus and choked a lion(#5), fresh from Kenya, when it wouldn’t jump through the ring. Apparently flogging it only made the creature madder. Motivational techniques like feeding it raw Bucket Burgers, fresh from the Milford Slaughterhouse, Inc., just made it hungrier for Bucket Banana Splits. Chance was not responsible for his actions. But he had to spend a night in the Milford Halfway House until they could transfer him.”

What’s sad is that Mrs. Chet Ballard is serving as a counterweight to Chet’s pontificating about the implications involved. Why stage the equivalent of a Watergate break-in unless he has grandiose ambitions, misguided as they are, on his mind? This mole, unfortunately, may never get to the surface(#6). She is just rubber-stamping that notion.

“I am not a crook!!!!!!!!!!”

“Mr. Nixon, Sam Donaldson, ABC News. It’s well-documented that your grandson is on Milford’s reserve team. We know you’d like him to move up and Gil is only playing the varsity running back because his parents donated $1,000,000 to improve the Lego Blocks in the lighting system but…”

 

Come to Butt Drugs in Corydon, Indiana where you get affordable prices on your medicines and friendly service. I like the free parking in the back of the store so I don’t have to dodge the Indiana 62 traffic in the front. And who says old-fashioned soda fountain service is a thing of the past? Not at Butt Drugs. Good ice cream and good Cokes, there’s the ticket. Hey, and if you want a free pen, they have plenty of those too. Come to the place that has been shown on The Ellen Degeneres Show and has grown in stature as a result. Keep Small Business alive, Gang.

 

Oooooooooookkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn is back to bring sanity to this spaghetti bowl. Who better than to lead us to the exit? Or exodus, same difference? Take ‘er away, Gene

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought she could feed the anteater at the Milford Petting Zoo a bag of __________________(#7)

 

And now we come to…………………………………………………………………………………………….the rest of the story. Page 3, er, P3.

And Mrs. Chet, I agree that it’s really none of his goddamn business and as Vaganova mentioned, Chet could be facing serious consequences for just waltzing into Public Records and taking on the role of a Milford Enquirer announcer.

Then again, any of you old-timers remember when Carol Burnett tripped at a restaurant and the next thing you know, The National Toilet said she’d been drinking? And she sued as a result? Of course, the National Toilet got Toilet lawyers and, not remembering the decision, the point is she ran up against a wall.

Mrs. Ballard nee Roh, you walked down the aisle with this garden snake(#8) and said “I do”. Jog your memory in case you forgot the address of the Milford Overnite Chapel. If ethics wasn’t really his middle name when you and he cut the wedding cake, what makes you think he’s going to Do The Right Thing when his son is ridin’ the pine in deference to a kid who staked permanent residence at Boys Town? As Father Flanagan, the founder, once said, there’s no such thing as a bad snake. Just snakes that couldn’t cross the road fast enough to prevent the Roadway driver from running them over. Best to throw them in a cage with a heat lamp and plenty of mice and public records to feed on before they become roadkill.

 

“And that’s the end of the 3rd quarter with The Mean Machine leading the Milford Mudlarks, 39-31. Jim Crewe already has 341 passing yards and NO INTENTIONAL INTERCEPTIONS!!!!!!! Guess his point-spreading days are over. And Chance Macy has 189 rushing yards and 2 TD’s. We’ll be back to start the 4th quarter here at Milford Federal Prison Football Grounds after these messages. You’re listening to Marty Moon on WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

 

“Hooooonnnnnneeeeyyyyyy, I’d like a quickie, let’s have some funnnnnn, let’s-SAY WHAT?”

“Oh, hi, Dear. I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Honey, what is a zebra doing in our garage?”

“Mrs. Shaw, I found that the best kind of fertilizer to feed our garden comes from the anus of a zebra (#9) . I read an article in Milford Outdoors Monthly where zebras have been imported and raised right on the farm to increase agricultural productivity. Shoot, them corn stalks were taller than Kareem after those zebras pooped in the furrows”

“Oh, I’d like to be fertile but I’d rather not go to bed with a hyena.”

“You ain’t gotta bring Mr. Ed’s cousin onto the Serta. Save the bed sheets for the kids to go as Charlie Brown’s ghost on Halloween. Just cut plenty of holes like good ol’ Charlie Brown did.”

“Actually, I’d rather get under the sheets for another purpose.”

“To go to bed with Charlie Brown?”

“Uh, well, let’s just say that if you’ll take these Erec-6500 pills, they will harden more than your heart. And I will have the time of my life.”

“Mrs. Shaw, I tried Pals to get my whim whim hard and it may work on kids but all I got out of the transaction was a #2 pencil. I also tried Robitussin, but the Cherry Bomb Flavor put me to sleep. I wet-dreamed at 4 AM. My erection came and went out of Dodge City like the Pony Express. And I ain’t eatin’ no zebra poop. I may like plump carrots and juicy radishes but I’m not that desperate to get it on. Zebras and “Love me, love me, say that you love me” just don’t jibe with me.”

If you’ll take these pills with this Jim Beam Straight From Mammoth Cave, I’ll let you keep the zebra.”

“Deal.”

 

 

“And boy, did we have the time of our lives. My significant other got harder than a zebra’s hoof and she was taken to another level. Only David Bowie and Major Tom have scaled such heights. And the celery stalks grew higher than Gil’s hair. I even kept the zebra. Stashed him in the equipment room in the offseason. Come to Milford Men’s Clinic today and see how you can grow your own watermelon patch. Shoot, you ain’t gotta let a camel poop to get fresh green beans or cure erectile dysfunction. Easy when you know the language. Only at The Clinic.”

 

It’s your turn, Gang. I’m going to investigate Chet’s background. I understand he got a ‘D’ in Spelling in 2nd Grade. Forgot there was an ‘E’ in the word ‘snake’.

 

At the Milford Germania Mannerchor Oktoberfest Dance Kontest

“And the winner of the Adult Division with an average score of 9.5 with their disco rendition of “Roll Out The Barrel” is Mr. and Mrs. Chet Ballard. Where’d you learn those moves?”

“To be honest, it all started by the Mr. Coffee in the kitchen…”

 

“Kaz, who the #%×?€@£ ate all the footballs?????????”

“Not sure, Gil. Wasn’t it locked?”

 

10 is a lonely number

 

 

 

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 20, 2019

Hadley V. Baxendale, Tweaker

gt07202019

“No charge, Mrs. Jansen.”

“Don’t you mean pro bono?”

“We’ll have none of that fancy Latin talk around here. Leave that for those St. Fabian’s kids. Besides, I heard enough of that in law school. I said ‘no charge’ and I meant ‘no charge.’ I’ll even throw in my mom’s face to sweeten the deal.”

mombax_momjans

“Now let’s get to tweakin’.”

“Uh, Ms. Baxendale? You’ve got the wrong strip. Tweaking is more of a Santa Royale thing.”

“I don’t think so. We’re trying to get you to stay in Milford, right? In an apartment?”

“Uh, yeah, but you might have us confused with the Aagards.”

“Hmmm. Jaquan, dear, don’t we have some weight training to do?”

July 4, 2019

I Like Mike-And Jaquan Too.

gt07042019

I think it is a safe bet that we will not see a golf ball, let alone a golf course in the next, oh, 18 panels (approximately 6 strips, in other words-egad) , not as long as Gil is modeling on a billboard for Bacardi Rum.

As several of our readers have mentioned, we have switched gears and are subjected to a crash course in the NBA. Just don’t expect to see Kareem, Magic, Dr. J. or Bird to appear in this Love Story wannabe.

“Here, Preppie, here’s the ball back. You got it all over my hot dog. Goddam, Preppie, the mustard stains will never come out of this blouse. Watch your passes!!!!!!!!”

Nope, we will probably go a month taking a tour of the NBA and only see Jaquan and Hadley Venom writing their 1000-words-or-less essay on how they met each other. You might wanna pull up a chair on this one. You know how home movies drag out.

On July 28th, at the 458th word

“So then he said, ‘Sure, I’ll autograph this Spalding for you. Anybody in this section got a pen?’ Then he slam-dunked on Moses Malone and dedicated it to me as a token of our vows we made with each other.”

And to think, there’ll be basketball in July to bunk the golf plot in order to boost the ratings of the readership. Boy, aren’t you excited? Why slog through another month of My Three Sons hacking away at MCC Golf Course on #5, Par 4, Dog Leg Right when you can watch 24/7 of the NBA mixed in with Jaquan Barrett IV and Hadley V. Cavalieri talk about how they got romantically involved on the S.S. Minnow while Gilligan and the Skipper engineered the whole crowd off the deserted island. And to think, it was because The Professor suggested to The Skipper to plug the hole with one of Jaquan’s shirts. It was long enough.

 

If ya git drunk with a fifth of Jack at the Milford Lounge listenin’ ta someone spill out thar guts over how they is gonna git thar shotgun weddin’ arranged at the Milford 24-Hour Chapel after meetin’ at a game of H-O-R-S-E and ya decline ta be the Best Man after the gut-spillin’ is said and done, ya might be a redneck.

 

Gil, I think you missed your calling. As mentioned previously, Chief Coach-Who-Does-No-Coaching does an admirable job posing with that Svedka, getting sloshed while listening to Jaquan ramble on about his blossoming relationship with Hadley Ventriloquist. Well, she’s practically throwing her voice in the relationship, not to mentiin in the panels.

Anyway, I hope roses don’t take this long to grow if we’re describing how long it takes for Jaquan and Hadley V. to talk about their relationship from the initial encounter to when he got down on his knees at a booth at The Bucket and proposed while she was slurping on a shake.

Hey, I got it. We could kill 2 birds with one stone. Engage another golf plot by talking about when they teed off their relationship (with the clubs and friendly words, Gang, not getting mad at each other because he was going to do a reverse slam and she got in the way) at #1, Par 3, Short Porch and culminating in when they decided to tie the knot while he is trying to dig out of the sand trap on #17, Par 5, Straightaway. To think, she became Mrs. Case while sand is flying everywhere. And he saved par.

They could talk about the Cubs’ repeat chances on #18, Par 4, Dog Leg Left since there’s time left over while Gil can get even more slushy on another Svedka. He should be sober enough to keep the club head straight with the ball. Oops, I forgot, he’s still at the MCC Bar and Grill doing his sloshing and slushing. Oh, just pretend. Gil is omnipotent, after all, if he is God. Just look at it as God portrayed as Foster Brooks.

Just think a whole month’s worth of a golf plot with “Where do I begin…etc., etc.” gently accompanying a golf plot that actually has meaning. No sense in Oliver Wendell Barrett mixing it up with punk kids. Ruins the atmosphere.

“Preppie, those teenagers need to learn some manners. And keep their hips shoulders straight when teeing off.”

 

This 4th of July, remember why we celebrate. Our Forefathers debated and argued and compromised and finally hammered out a Declaration of Independence we can all be proud of and that has more than stood the test of time. It is a model that has been emulated by governments throughout the world. Get to know this wonderful official document and your Constitution as well. Don’t let them die off in vain.

Thank you to my grandfather, Leonard Thomas Hardin, cook in the U.S Army in WWI, and my step-father, Gabriel Feltner, Jr., infantryman in the U.S. Navy in WWII, who served proudly to keep the Declaration of Independence and our Constitution alive. Please remember our Veterans in your own way to let them know it was not in vain. I always take 5 minutes a day to thank a Veteran. But do what works for you but PLEASE remember them.

Lest We Forget

 

We reach the action (in “Gil Thorp”? Talk about contradiction in terms)  part of our story in P2 where Jaquan is still in a heavy conversation with Hadley V. while running the break. Wasn’t he a center for Bishop Tardy?  I realize a lot of big men can dribble in the NBA but give us a warning, Thorpiverse. This transition from Parick Ewing when he was at Cambridge Latin to Magic on a 3-on-1 break with Worthy on one wing and Cooper on the other wing takes time to digest while we’re still getting to the bottom of “How I Met My Soulmate”.

And I realize Thorpiverse evidently doesn’t watch too many NBA games but I hate to break it to you, Thorpiverse, Jordan didn’t run the length of the floor and flip a nice dish to Pippen for a nasty flush job while negotiating with the peanut vendor for a Cracker Jack and a $10 Large Diet Coke. Oh, you owe us one, all right, Thorpiverse.

“Yeah, gimme that Mike & Ike Jelly Beans box and a Mr. Pib-NICE SHOT, PIP. WAY TO BE LOOKIN’. STILL GOT THE STROKE, MY MAN!!!!!!!!!

We now return to the game, already in progress.

 

“A bad plot brought you together?”

“After he shanked one in the woods. He told his caddy to give her an autographed program from that night. He had to take a drop after the plot landed in the algae.”

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Case And V. Baxendale To Exchange Vows After He Proposes At The Milford Pro-Am Biddy Ball Tournament!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Case waited until after the 3rd quarter to watch his nephew play and his coach fulfill the one-quarter-per-half rule.”

 

P3 is just leaving an opening wide enough for the Milford City Dump Inc. truck to drive through.

We don’t have one but TWO Smokemaster grills. Unless the one on the left is a picnic table with headlights. Complete with matching tortilla plates.

Did the Milford Big Lots run a special on matching His and Her’s Smokemaster Special Edition Fireball Unit?

“He’s a macho guy and wants his Polish sausage and flame-broiled angus beef grilled to perfection while they’re watching Harry and Steve negotiate the Cubs to another victory at Wrigley while she much prefers her Smokemasterette to char-broil veggie burgers while waiting for the Church Finance Committee to arrive anytime. Whatever the occasion, come hungry cuz Milford Big Lots has ya covered. And don’t forget the Kingsford, now on sale for a bargain at 8.99. A veggie burger isn’t the same without it.”

BTW, Robmize, you know I’ll never change(ha).

It appears she is at HIS grill, char-broiling the moon rocks that Neil and Buzz brought back from the moon while Gil is sipping on the Worcestershire Steak Sauce bottle. Sometimes you get wrapped up in the soap opera and pick up the wrong bottle by mistake. I’m wondering why the Bud Lite tastes funny. Anyway, Jaquan and Hadley Vermont are going to Six Flags on their honeymoon.

And finally, if you ever wondered where the word “meander” comes from, you have Thorpiverse to thank. To have gone from Chicago to Milford Country Club Golf Course to Milford Country Club Waffle House to Chicago to the poop deck in Gil’s back yard watching Mimi grill the Rice Krispies treats to anthracite coal black is a fait d’accomplait, let me assure you.

 

 

After seeing a “Clearance” sign on the storefront of Family Dollar

 

“Has someone died in your family? No better time to choke on a piece of KFC Mashed Potatoes than now.

Hi, this is Dr. Pearl for Milford Funeral Solutions. When my great grandfather died after serving proudly in the Norman Conquest, I was strapped for funds to locate an affordable casket. An administrator’s salary only goes so far.

Fortunately, Milford Funeral Solutions was there to ride to my rescue. They were backlogged with caskets in so many directions. Some were placed in the practice field of the Mudlark Football team, an Amish tent that was bought at a bargain and a dance the only thing keeping the mahogany structures from getting damaged by the elements. Nobody was dying. Everybody was taking their medicines and getting their flu shots at Milford Pharmacy.

We were able to scratch each other’s backs for a deal. They sold me a casket worthy of the Batesville Casket name, one where my great grandfather could lie in peace and still be allowed to mount his Purple Heart on his tummy. He’d had acid reflux but anyone who almost gunned down William the Conquerer with his derringer deserved the finest in funeral care without having to throw in his Winchester to cover the burial expenses.

And this week, Milford Funeral is running a BOGO special. That is correct, the Funeral Director at Milford Funeral Solutions is wanting to clear ’em out and make room for the new models coming in this week. So, rather than leave the older ones high and dry in a vacant lot behind Milford Federal Credit Union, our Ambassador in Funeral Relations has proffered this 2-for-the-price-of-one special to help both parties reach light at the end of the tunnel. If Jed Clampett accidently blew his head off while cleaning his rifle and Jethro didn’t survive the shotgun wedding, Milford Funeral Solutions knows how to ease the pain and the pocketbook at the same time. Viewing Jed and Jethro and knowing you’re only financing one of the funeral processions, an affordable cost at that, putting you in the tax bracket with the Beverly Hillbillies, if that doesn’t bring peace of mind, Elly May shouldn’t sneak in while the organ is playing “Beautiful Dreamer”.

And giving my great-grandfather the 21-gun salute while burying him with the drapeau du France draped over his pectoralis major and the Republic of France banner raised in his honor at the Milford VFW Lodge, Post 19, was a special tribute that tore my heart out but not my purse. I still had that after they named the Legion Baseball Field after him as a bonus.

When you get this kind of kindness, it is no wonder why they can clear the caskets off Gil’s hunting property just outside Milford. The buzzards are for hunting, not perched on an oak structure. Come see them today and have your own buzzards removed from your loved ones resting place.”

 

Comment away, Gang. Be forewarned that after seeing the bill of fare in P3, I am now convinced that Gil’s back yard is the only place in America where even the foreigners say “Don’t drink the water.”

 

“CUBS WIN!!!!!!!!!! CUBS WIN!!!!!!! Steve, you done with that barbecue pork chop sandwich?”

“Have at it. I can’t eat another bite. Gil and Mimi grilled enough to feed the Bleacher Bums.”

 

 

 

 

 

June 11, 2019

Betcha By Golly Wow Your Team’s Gonna Suck. Good Answer, Mimi, Good Answer.

Filed under: freak hands, huge earrings, Milford Idiots, Mimi Thorp, Pointy Fingers — tdrewhardin @ 2:44 pm

061119

So now, with the Conference Championship and the plot, as a result, on the line, Mimi meets Linda Carr out on Main Street in Tombstone for a showdown. Better make this good, Mimi, Wyatt Earp is at The Tombstone Bucket downin’ a hard one (you know how Bucket Hard Cider Shakes can affect the large intestine) and the Clanton Boys are pointin’ a gun at the sock hop cuz The Bucket still ain’t got its Liquor License. They likely to shoot first and ask questions later. What happens when you don’t take “no” for an answer.

 

Betcha by golly wow

That your team is gonna hit the pits

Forever

 

Betcha by golly wow

That we’ll suffer through another blitz

Of volleyball

 

The group of choice, The Stylistics. They have always been one of my favorites. I dunno, that falsetto voice with a chorus behind him, plus catchy melodies that go for the throat. They got my respect and have for decades.

 

If yore volleyball team goes through another losin’ campaign cuz yore setter don’t know how ta spike a cow bladder over a clothesline and yore server scratches over the second grease stain that demarkates the dimenshuns of the volleyball court, ya might be a redneck.

 

And now I’m confused. I know that Linda was with a traveling volleyball team and that she wanted to go for the gold, literally and figuratively, by hooking up with the big boys rather than accept a full ride scholarship at Milford Community College and play volleyball there.

Fair enough. I’d say a bit overambitious but she’s a teenager learning about life. I get the feeling she will know where she stands in the grand scheme of things.

But now we have Mimi rattling off teams I have never heard of and I’m bettin’ the readership never heard of, the reasons almost having to do with Mimi convincing Linda to, what?, go full bore with the softball team? Convince her that being Michael Jordan on Milford Community College could land her as an early round draft pick in the National Volleyball Association? That Australians know more about kangaroos and dingoes than they do about volleyball? That her volleyball career is gonna crash-and-burn on Ayers Rock if she doesn’t find new friends and quit hanging around the volleyball thugs? I’m sure things will start to unfold and the Finger Math lessons that Mimi took at the Symposium for Teachers With LD in Mathematics in the interim are paying off in P1. Look at her using the Enumeration Method, reducing those volleyball teams to a status equivalent to a group of church members playing pick-up volleyball at the 4th of July picnic at Milford Park. I’ll never try to spike it down the music minister’s throat after Mimi has reduced volleyball to ashes.

Just don’t let those volleyball thugs spray paint YOUR volleyball net or badminton net, if the former is still in the garage and is buried somewhere under the riding mower, in your front yard. Might wanna call the Sonitrol man on that one.

 

There’s a spark of ennui before my eyes

Apathyland appears so bad, I cry

Never thought this fairy tale would cease

Mimi’s calculator endows me with state of peace

This plot’s “Police Squad” in disguise

Full of bull that’s homogenized

 

Betcha by golly wow

Linda will go back and spike it up Gil’s derriere

Betcha by golly wow

Mimi will be watching, learning to design another play

 

Ooooooooookkkkkkkkk, so before we leave P1, I’m still not satisfied with who these teams are that Mimi is listing, though I THINK they’re the local yokels Rockville will be playing in their quest for another conference title and, perhaps, Linda’s chance at a spot on the U.S. Olympic team.

“Yeah, sure, I think the Pirates have a chance at the NL East Title if they can get “Pops” Stargell off the DL. And with Trout and Sutcliffe, the Cubs ought to be right there with them. Man, speaking of Mudlarks in the dumpster, why did the Cardinals EVER trade Hernandez???? That was worse than the Carlton-for-Gil trade. I think Dr. Pearl was the GM at the time. What did they get in return??????  Henry “Hank” Finkel, Joe Sharkey, and a bunch of volleyballs. Yeah, I know the Cardinals are stingy with their money but look what happened. Finkel went on to the Celtics where he continued his Off-The-Bench-When-The-Team-Needs-A-Body-When-The-Starters-Lose-Interest status, Joe lost his fingers trying to catch one of Hernandez’s line drives, or was it Silent George Hendrick, and what are they gonna do with a bunch of volleyballs?????? Watch Ozzie do flips over them between innings??????? And Hernandez won another World Series. Linda, stick to water polo.”

Boy, finger math does wonders, doesn’t it? Fred MacMurray was onto something.

 

If I could catch a falling volleyball

To throw at some random player’s head, big or small

Order rainbows in my favorite shade

To show this plot ends, that it will fade

Write it off as bas nouvelle

Anything but a prized Nobel

 

Betcha by golly wow

It’s the one we hope will ride to Mars forever

Betcha by golly wow

And always will our hate for it keep growin’ strong

Keep growin’ strong

 

 

Now it’s bad enough that P2 is representative of the Frida Kahlo collection that is gracing our comic strip today but do I have to get Robmize mad at me by continuing discussion of trades like what is going on in P2? Okay, Linda, the Cubs shouldn’t have traded Lou Brock and wound up on the Australian National Team but the Cubs needed cash, some pitching and a right-handed setter with power. Perfect with that wind blowing out.

Linda is perhaps playing one card too many and I think that is where Mimi is going with this. Well, she had the volleyball schedule of the National League East down cold, give her credit. I’ll bet she even knew Lee Smith’s ERA. Hey, gotta be in the know when you’re trying to close it out with Rose (Wind blew out to right also, Rose a switch hitter, yes, I’m onto that) , Bench, and Morgan in the lineup WITH that wind blowing out. Still, Mimi is desiring Linda to ride on Trigger and ride off into the sunset, the sun shaped like a Spalding volleyball, then dismount off the horse and get her ass over to the softball complex. It might get a bit more complex (pardon the pun) than that, but that HAS to be the gist of it. We’ll know if there’s no volleyballs or horse chips in the dugout.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Brian Eno And Herb Alpert To Colloborate On ‘Volleyball Fusion In Tijuana’ At Milford Memorial Coliseum!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Eno points out acoustics of bouncing volleyballs and synthesizers works perfectly at his venue, particularly on ‘Zorba the Greek’.”

 

Linda, Linda, please listen to me, says Mimi in P3. Not only are your fingers shaped like Ore Ida Fries like mine, you really shouldn’t bet on volleyball. The odds makers don’t read page 4 of the Milford Scoreboard to see who won between Milford and Oakwood (“Milford won in 5 sets. Joe, go to a phone. Tell the OTB guys, Milford with a 2 1/2 spread on New Thayer. Hey, the Mudlarks are the home team!!!”) and we need you for this Tournament. Plus, I’d like to put my hands down. Edward Scissorshands is due to show up anytime and he’s been flirting with me. I’ve tried to tell him that I’m married to Gil but he keeps insisting that my Ore Ida Crinkle Cuts look sexy, especially soaked in Palmolive. Can you just say yes and skip the Jimmy the Greek tripe?

Hell, no. I like my Casual Bud Powell “April in Paris” attire that accompanies my corn dog appendages and I need to find a way to stretch P3 into a topographical nightmare because P4 would get a grievance filed by the  Amalgamated Printer’s Union. Betcha by golly wow, I might even sing another Stylistics tune like “Stone in Love With You” or Break Up To Make Up.” It can fit.

 

 

You know, with all this talk of volleyball and softball and newcomball and hopscotch and squash and Lordy knows what else Linda McCartney is involved in, we sometimes forget that people die.

Hi, this is Dr. Pearl, on behalf of Milford Funeral Solutions. That is what happened to me recently as my second-cousin-twice-removed-uncle-cum-father-in-law passed away at the Milford Senior Care Center. His life was full, having been the oldest Civil War Veterans, fighting for the Union in the 171st Wisconsin Corps of Engineers. Somebody had to build the bridge across the Mississippi to lead the charge against Pemberton at Vicksburg. He was rewarded with a fine pension but, MacArthur was wrong. Old soldiers do die. He may have digested his 1,000,000th Big Mac by the time he croaked but they still meet their Waterloo.

The people at Milford Funeral Solutions understand that with a peoples’ non-stop, hectic, go-go, seat-of-the-pants schedules, that they are surprised when one of their relatives dies. Land o’ Goshen, when I learned that Lieutenant Wilfred B. Harrington bit the big one at the Senior Center, I was at a staff meeting discussing ways to cut costs on the repairs of the football team buses. When they slipped the note, someone thought I was thinking about the expenditures on the Alison transmission that put us over budget.

That’s where care and compassion and a good casket that doesn’t cost as much as that transmission comes into the picture. They showed me the adjustable reclining board where he was laying in state to set my mind at ease. It’s important when he’s being embalmed because I have bad images of Elmer’s Glue being applied to his scalp and eyeballs, not to mention Canola oil being applied to his body to keep blood, semen, mucus, etc. from needlessly seeping out and damaging the merchandise, even if it’s dead merchandise. A dead Sears Die Hard battery deserves a decent burial, complete with minister to spread the ashes.

And after all the embalming and he is airlifted from the board to the casket, it’s nice that he will get a nice viewing with his arms folded the proper way. The last funeral home shoved my father’s hands in his pocket and he not only cut himself with the Boy Scout knife but the suit ripped. Try explaining to a dead man why his seersucker has a hole in his crotch. Embarrassing.

AND Milford Funeral Solutions was voted “#1 Funeral Home in Milford” by a reader’s poll in Milford Today. When they can lay my relative’s sword and engineering tools, straightedge included, so that they can be buried in one fell swoop so that the casket door can close smoothly, all at a fraction of the cost of the other funeral homes in Mudlarkland COMBINED, you have a business that will keep growing. No argument from the gravediggers.

Come to Milford Funeral Solutions today. And to show how badly they want your business, if your uncle or mother-in-law, etc. dies this month, they will pay for the funeral notice in the Milford Enquirer. Why go through the pointless worry of how many grandchildren Grandpa Thorp had when Milford Funeral Solutions can do the Finger Math? Just bring the ad that is printed on the Internet, download it, and your troubles are over. No more concern of whether your aunt was from New Thayer or Madison.

Isn’t it time you lay your troubles to rest along with that sword? That was fool’s gold anyhoo, I understand. An alchemist’s dream. Come to Milford Funeral Solutions and put Excalibur 6 feet under.

 

Gang, comment away. I still think Lou Brock can help the Lady Mudlarks win the softball tournament. Speed on the basepaths is important.

 

 

“No!!!!!!!! Don’t fold Gil’s grandpa’s arms like that!!!!!!!!! He looks like an accordion!!!!!!!!!!”

« Newer PostsOlder Posts »

Blog at WordPress.com.