This Week in Milford

February 18, 2019

Badger Redux

Filed under: Gil Thorp, Prairie Style Windows — nedryerson @ 10:26 am

02182019

This strip starts off pretty cool with Gil dramatically framed by the doorway and Max Bacon stepping out of a shadow with heavy words: I want to tell everyone why they can’t trust Bobby Howry.

So yeah, Max was manipulated by Bobby as an experiment and then to impress a girl. (Those were Gil’s words.) You don’t want to trust a guy like that. But Max badgered Bobby for the fake adderall! He got dismissed from the team! Let’s relive the drama, we’ve got nothing else going on here.

I had forgotten about the Leisl aspect of the Bobby Howry story. Leisl thought Bobby was boring because he was so “mono-focused” on basketball. So Bobby thought he could impress Lesil by being able to predict how well Max was going to perform on the court. Well, Leisl was all ears! She even reported to her own basketball teammates that Bobby could predict how well Max was going to play. The word got around on the girls team and Mimi even caught wind of this new dimension to Bobby Howry. Bobby was a hot topic! Then Mimi clued Gil in on the happenings on his team. That’s classic Gil Thorp, friends.

So, Max is back. At first he didn’t seem to care and Gil told him to go check  out the Robby billboards, but don’t do anything! This installment shows Max coming in a little hotter in that moody opening panel. But ultimately, Gil’s wise counsel is to leave it alone. Everything works out here. It always does. Back to State U with you, Maxwell Bacon and get crackin’ on those résumés.

 

Advertisements

February 16, 2019

Don’t Ask Yourself What’s Gil Doing With His Hand In Panel One

021619

What a day to get back in the saddle of posting about what’s going on in Gil Thorp’s world… In lieu of any meaningful plot development let’s do a quick take panel by panel.

P1: Seriously, just ignore these two with their weird posturing. Did anyone else know that Gil has not one but two desks in his office? Say what you will about our pocket hockey playing hero, but you gotta tip your hat to the fact that he rates a huge office.

P2: It warms my heart to see Maxwell instantly disavow helping Gil as his motive for returning to this tanktown. That he does it while flashing a double inverted Vulcan salute and wearing a sailor’s turtleneck gilds the Lily.

P3: Maxwell is gonna be pissed when he goes from one end of town to the other only to see that the billboards both have the same message. Also, why would Gil encourage Maxwell to go check out the billboards but then discourage him from getting involved? Pretty mixed message there.

February 14, 2019

Lou Grant Anthology Series: Volume 7-“The Coaching Years”

Filed under: actual action, basketball, Gil Thorp, Just plain sad, Oakwood, Prairie Style Windows — tdrewhardin @ 5:43 pm

021419

I’m having this nightmare of giant snakes attacking me in the Gobi Desert while being trapped in that giant scorpion chair that Vulnavia pushed me into while Dr. Phibes goes to Gil’s house and kidnaps Mimi and sticks her in a mummy case in his hideout behind the Milford 24-Hour Coin Laundromat (what other laundromats are there?-I’ve yet to see one that had changers giving wooden nickels or Canadian quarters or 3-dollar bills or buffalo bones that the Kiowa used in transactions, any of those for your 20) , my being surrounded by scorpions and tarantulas, helpless to do anything because I’m confined to that seat, all the while observing Robby going door-to-door selling Electrolux Vacuum Cleaners to finance his billboard addiction.

KNOCK!!!!!!!!!!! KNOCK!!!!!!!!!!!! KNOCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Ah, Vic-TOR-ia, I shall return to your loving and amorous presence as soon as I dispose of this incompetent and foolish churl. Enjoy your Journey into Never Never Land in the interim. You’ll find treasure if you stay there. And me too, I hope.”

Using mental telepathy at high voltage

“Yesssss?”

Taken aback that Phibes doesn’t move his mouth when speaking, R/Bobby trudges on

“Hi, I represent the Electrolux Vaccum Cleaner Company. Here’s my card. Uh, Can I come in?”

Sure, Booby, just come on into the Pits of Hell where Phibes is shish-kabobing a victim who dared harm Vic-TOR-ia and make yourself at home. Sorry the place is a mess. I’ll have Vulnavia use a Swiffer on all the blood stains on the tile floor. And that skeleton on the Broyhill dining room table? Well, she was an anorexic. Vulnavia couldn’t coax her to eat a Pudding Pop.

“You’ll love these hose attachments, it’ll pick up all those dead locusts on your floor, Man, you got a ton of ’em, some on the China cabinet, and even in the vegetable compartment in your fridge, you might need an extra vacuum bag…”

I wake up, coming to my senses. I realize it was just a bad dream, that the vacuum noise was a street sweeper passing by.

But just in case my nightmares overlap into reality and I see my next-door neighbor cleaning out his Volvo and sucking all the cigarette butts and chewing gum and stale Chee-tos with an Electrolux, extension cord thrown in as an added bonus, you could run the gamut of choices, Tom Thumb, James K. Polk, Booby Doody (nice one, Teench) , Ethyl from “I Love Lucy”, Herb Woodley, Dagwood’s next-door neighbor, and Mother Theresa, and I believe you can narrow down the list of candidates very quickly. James K. Polk didn’t have the luxury of electricity and P.T. Barnum, Tom Thumb’s protege, sold circuses door-to-door, not vacuum cleaners. There might have been a sell after the elephant act, flunkies scoopin’ up the elephant poop while somebody is shouting from a megaphone “It slices, it dices, it sucks up popcorn and Julienne fries in a nanosecond…”, but aaaaaaaa, kinda sorta doubt it. So R/Booby is our culprit Electrolux salesman.

And now R/Bobby is living to tell about it on The Sleazy Hour w/ Marty Moon. Thank God Booby had an extra wide-scoop dustpan attachment to corral all the dead scorpions on the VCR in the den or Booby might have been victimized by Phibes’ Deluxe Head Decapitator in the Maytag dishwasher. And Booby is practically saying Gil should give up coaching and sell vacuum cleaners himself. And as long as we’re going to get RIDICULOUS about this, what with a guy who still hasn’t confirmed how he’s financing these billboard deals and really has no business on a radio show criticizing a coach and saying he needs to resign when he was only the equipment manager, I might as well go all the way with this.

“So you’re saying he never moved his mouth when he was calling time outs?”

“I am.”

“How could he communicate with his players? Did he use a cue card?”

“Nooooo, he kinda spoke as if he was using mental telepathy. Like somebody sewed his mouth shut so the only other way was to hold a can at one end and shout out the back door play through the hanger wire to the cup at the other end through his nostrils. Good thing he used Vic’s Nasal Spray or Luhm’d have some heavy poop to sweep up tonight. And don’t even talk about buffering.”

“What did he say?”

“He threatened to dunk their heads in an aquarium of piranhas and use their bodies for mannequins at the Milford House of Horrors if they coughed up another late lead and disappoint my dear Vic-TOR-ia who’s been waiting centuries to awaken and be part of the State Champ photo with the basketball team.”

“And I understand tarantulas were coming out of his scalp?”

“Right. Some heckler in Section B said he COACHES like Dr. Phibes and only Phibes’ organ-playing is worse than his play-calling. Vulnavia positioned a cement chute in the heckler’s direction and the tarantulas had a feast on the heckler and his 2 Baby Ruth bars.”

 

And wasn’t Tod Andrews in charge of the Oakwood team(s)? Billytheskink, correct me if I’m wrong and you do excellent work on the subject so if you know, by all means, clear the record. I admit I’m getting senile(ha).

RIGHT NOW, Lou Grant has come out of retirement and is pursuing a second career after taking night classes at Milford Community College. I reckon he skipped the infomercial on WDIG-TV at 3:00AM in the morning, the one where Bodies by Jake had a special promo “Yes, you too can be a coach.” And when you order now, you’ll get the 2-ton Nautilus equipment sent to your door plus a 2,354 page booklet “Kevin Loughery: ‘How I Coached Great Players On My Next Team After I Got Fired From My 3rd Team'” Classic reading. Is there a foreword by Bob Knight?

 

Hank Finkel (or Chuck Nevitt or Don Noort-last one, courtesy Indiana Basketball) : “Coach, I’m ready as a 12th man if you need me. I know you’ve blown some games because there was no one to send in when you were ahead by 61 with a minute to go, so I’m available.”

“SURE. We have an empty seat at the end of the bench. I put Chuck D’Alosio (ditto IU) on the DL.”

 

Isn’t “disappointing loss” a redundancy? What loss is ENCOURAGING? I’ve been a high school booster/coach and a college booster for ages and have never experienced  a loss that WASN’T disappointing.

Then when we’re subjected to giga-second photo shoots of basketball action on one end of the court and Gil-thrashing by Marty and Booby on the other end, no wonder why tip-offs are a bit tricky. Talk about lack of action and making no desire to penetrate in the frontcourt. Only the 4-corner stall implented by Dean Smith is less entertaining. But at least THAT won games. No wonder why we have to have a shot clock.

“…shot clock down to 7, Gil is rambling and rambling, Reggie wanting to shoot, shot clock down to 4, Booby is using a crane to erect another billboard that says “Gil has serious crack when he kneels to design a play”, shot clock down to 2, Reggie is begging for the ball and trying to get Kaz to quit trying to remove his earrings, ANNNNDDDDD the shot clock expires and the Pacers will turn it over, down 6 to the Bucks, 2:37 left in the 3rd Quarter…”

“There’s absolutely no reason for that, Mark, absolutely no reason.”

“I agree, Slick, you just don’t leave Reggie that wide open, especially with Robinson laying off…”

 

Going back to P1, the players, if you really want to liberally interpret the word, are displaying some interesting stances. Is the Oakwood player in the upper panel doing the River Dance? I knew it was a craze or at least the commercial during Bugs Bunny & Pals said so. Sure helped with his footwork on defense. Glory Thanks to Jesus he wasn’t doing the Funky Chicken or Milford Might have made it a cakewalk.

And that’s either a Smurf or The Hunchback of Notre Dame in the lower corner that missed his defensive assignment. Help defense does wonders, Hunch.

 

One day, a visitor drops into Gil’s office.

“Hey, Coach, I understand you’re short-handed, especially on the interior. Need me to suit up?”

“Pulver, you graduated in the ’70’s. How am I going to slip that one past the other coach, let alone the officials?”

“The same way you’d slip the Coach’s union card you’ve had since ’58. And I can douse my head in a bucket of Grecian Formula.

 

Today’s Black History entry is actually 2 people, Booker T. Washington and William Edgar Burgard DuBois. They were on two sides of a coin, Washington espousing learning a trade for the black man to better himself, especially through his school, the Tuskeegee Institute, and Dubois, the first black man to earn a Ph.D at Harvard, who felt that a black man should better himself through the Liberal Arts. I’m not prepared to delve into either side but both men were VERY INFLUENTIAL in the lives of blacks and therefore I ask that you join me in saluting them for their significant contributions.

 

 

 

 

And, OF COURSE, Lou, he’ll turn it around. You’ve been looking up Mary Tyler Moore’s butt one too many times, that’s your problem when you’re not running a newspaper when you’re not coaching the team. What do you think Gil’s going to do after 60+ years, RETIRE???????? Wash your mouth out with Irish Spring. And head to a Florida condo? Go sit in the corner. As incompetent as Gil is, Coach Kleats ain’t gonna take his place and take the baton and continue to run the team and/or plots in the ground. You and Ted Knight, sheesh.

And what would he do? Play shuffleboard? Strive to be the Bocce king? I’m sure he’s been practicing in his office for the appointed time. Equipment’s right behind the golf bag. Oops, that reminds me. Since he golfs, he’d be on thecourse 24/7.

The St. Lucie Police shining a floodlight on Hole #7, dog leg right, par 5 and speaking through the loudspeaker

“May I ask your business?”

“Not now. Gotta do a ball drop.”

 

Air Jordan walks through the hallways, signing 1,946,738 autographs, including posing with the cafeteria ladies and with Dr. Pearl, Doctorate proudly behind her, eventually winding up in Gil’s office.

“Coach, if you need me to come out of retirement, I’m available. And Pippen’s in the limo.”

 

P3-“Not now, I’m in the middle of Ultimate Chess. I’m workin’ on my endgame. My rook got sliced in pieces but I still got another one, plus my one and only pawn is 2 squares away from queening. Mate City.”

And only in Thorpiverse do the background mutated pine trees kibbutz the match. Move your bishop and protect your queen, Thorp. Shut up, fellow mutated pine tree, I’d move his knight. He’s got an easy fork. Rook’s a dead man.

 

“And there’s a time out on the floor as the towel boy is wiping up all the locust poop, with the score, Milford, 67, Oakwood, 62, with a minute to go. We’ll see if Phibes can pull this one out.”

Because I’m unclear on what a blood flow massage or stimulator is on these ED commercials

Gil, pulling down his Valentine’s Day boxers that Mimi had air-mailed this morning

“How does it feel?”

“Aaaaaaaaaaa, a bit snug. I need circulation but don’t lop the damn thing off. I need to piss, y’know.”

“Sorry, Gil. They do stretch in time. You might get a little woozy walking down the stairs but you’ll get comfortable in a day or two. Leather stretches that way.”

“Can I try something one size smaller? I usually wear a 12 but I’ll go 11 even if it’s a bit loose.”

“Absolutely, Gil. And I can put some pinch pads in them so it doesn’t keep slipping.”

“Go for it. Now you’re saying it’ll get me erect 1/2 hour before bed time?”

“Sure, but if it’s loose, it might take a little longer.”

“”I think I better go a little tighter. Mimi gets horny in a hurry and the quicker I can get the motorboat started, the less tempted Mimi is to use alternative means such as the bed post.”

“Sure thing. And I’ll give you a shoehorn in case you have trouble slipping it on before desperate times come about. Mimi won’t rub the parquetry again, that’sour money-back guarantee.”

 

“The Milford Men’s Clinic friendly staff is ready to assist you and treat you like a Coach. Don’t take my word for it, ask Mimi. And see for yourself down at the Clinic. Give your significant other a Dr. Scholl treatment.”

 

Gang, comment away. I’m staying on the other side of the gym. I saw people getting eaten by anacondas. Sometimes Phibes goes too far when he gets slapped with a T.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Gil: ‘I DID see Elvis.”

sub headline

“Presley seen as a 2 guard in Thorp’s offensive schemes.”

 

Bulletin board at St. Lucie Heights Luxury Condos

“Congratulations to Coach and Mimi Thorp for 1st Place in the 27th Annual Croquet Tournament, Handicap Division. Mimi won in a one-hole play-off. Thanks to ALL the participants.”

February 7, 2019

All The World’s At Milford’s Gym But There Are No Actors

020719

Gang, if you’re looking to start out the day on a cheery note, you might want to skip today’s strip. Filion is getting comfortably numb when he’s not reciting Hamlet’s soliloquy. And it, of course, is interfering with any basketball action, ay, there’s the rub. Thank God the National High School Athletic Board approved of the make-up schedule after all the snow days, rain days, soap opera distractions, Gil’s hunting trips to Nepal, Mimi’s appointment at the hairdresser,  Kaz’s unused sick days, Dr. Pearl’s annual Teacher Enrichment Seminar Retreat at Mudlark Lake, Dr. Pearl’s Annual Wig-Shedding event, WDIG’s pre-empting Mudlark basketball games to cover ESPN’s Big Monday (“Look at Gil’s hair bob up and down while a Mudlark sets a down screen on the weak side and there’s no help on defense or for  Gil’s hair-FREEZE IT”) , and Luhm’s calling the Orkin man to machine gun all the roaches in the gym. I don’t know, some guy dressed like Mr. Freeze with a long hose attached to a couple of air tanks on his back so he can stage a Holocaust  on all the bugs, couldn’t we slip in a game or two?

ANYWAY, until the end of February, all games, played at 3 per day, including girls’ basketball, should get things caught up, barring Valentine’s Day, nobody’s going to be in the mood to slam dunk a basketball after he or she ate the whole box of Russell Stover Cherry Cremes given by grandma or mom or a girlfriend. Gastronemic considerations and fancies of love flings were taken into consideration when discussing make-up dates. And the girls’ season would end tomorrow at that rate as a 5-game schedule enables us to say sayonara to a season that really never was. I hate to admit it, gang, but I missed not being able to watch Mimi high-five a girl after her Lady mudlarks dismantled a team in 2 panels. Missing those missed memories is killing me.

“Ah haaaaaa, Coach Torp. I FINALLY have you vere I vant you. You vill be mine forever and ever. I vill reign over Gotham City AND Milford.”

“That’s nice, Mr. Freeze. BTW, could you respray the girls stalls? I saw a couple of critters scoot by.”

 

And while I’m exploring all the wonderful possibilities of all the boys games being wrapped up before the Playdowns and/or The Bucket calling it a night, assuming Mr. Freeze nuked all the roaches with cybernetic bug spray (works better than Roach Motel, trust me) , take a look at P1. Geez, it is tearing my heart out to see Filion in Death Valley. At least U2 made an album, “The Joshua Tree”, when they returned to the surface.

But even Filion’s butt appears to be mired in the pits of Hell. It’s times like this I’d rather have Plumber’s Butt. All I need to do is get a longer shirt.

“Why the long Plumber’s Butt?”

“Oh, my dog just died and Santa got ran over by his reindeer. And The Bucket is going to shut down indefinitely after Mr. Freeze stunk out the bathroom when his icer broke down at the same time he devoured that Bucket o’ Tex-Mex Chili w/ Jalapeno Peppers. The EPA will have to give clearance after the Milford
City Department deodorizes everything.  They had to evacuate residents within 2 blocks of the place.”

 

It doesn’t help that Gil is failing as a mental health therapist. Gil, just because you’ve read all those Psychology Today magazines while you were waiting for Mimi in the gynecologist’s office. doesn’t entitle you to spit-shine that Ph.D in Clinical
Psychology with Windex so that it streaks diagonally. I know some of your certificates on the wall have streaked the Norman Cross, but sheesh. Then you press your luck by mounting that Ph.D  next to the railroad-crossing-streaked Real Estate License you earned from the corresponding course at Milford Real Estate Solutions on the computer. Next thing you know, you’ll be using Turtle Wax  on that suitable-for-streaking Dow-Jones-streaked Kentucky Colonel certificate. Buffer it nicely so the streak is spotless when you’re entertaining the guests in your office. We wouldn’t anybody to think you’re a slob.

 

Hello (Hello. Hello)

Is there anybody out there?

Can anybody hear me?

Are we close to tip-off time?

 

Sue me, you whippersnappers, I had to satisfy my Floyd fix. I’m just trying to figure out what the heck to do when I see a teenager dragging his Plumber’s Butt in Gil’s office and Gil makes a sorry-ass attempt at Handy Man. Talk about jack-of-all-trades, master of none. Gil, you can’t use a ball-peen hammer or an Allen wrench on a guy who’s comfortably numb. But leave it to Gil to ignore the advice.

What are the readers supposed to think when it takes a week for Gil to tell Filion to GO SEE A SHRINK????????? We’re almost to Friday and Gil is hem-hawing on this one? What was he thinking, go to the Snap-On Tool man for a 3/8 when the dude makes the rounds every week? That’s right, Gil, head towards the UPS-like truck and ask for a hacksaw when Filion is going schizo. And don’t forget to put a plumbline on his head. He might look funny with this blue streak running down his nose but if that’s the price we pay for psychoanalysis, I’m all for Holistic healing, by dingies. And you might need a Briggs &  Stratton cordless drill when Filion says he’s Napoleon. No need for a strait jacket when all ya gotta do is drill his forehead should he go too far.

Why not read him a bedtime story and let him suck his thumb. Steal Linus’ blanket and give him some security. I read this Dr. Seuss story the other day and it is perfect.

 

Makes no sense at all

There’s no basketball

Said the Cat in the Hat

In the hall

 

Gil Thorp and wife Mimi

Are getting progressively steamy

The rest of us hit The Bucket

For green eggs and fettucini

 

Boy, if that doesn’t put him to sleep in that cot you rolled out in your office and keep him from slashing his wrists in the bargain, Marty Moon didn’t make little green apples in the summertime.

 

 

Stand up (Stand up Stand up)

I think the PALS is working good

That should work for tomorrow’s game

Your shooting won’t be the same

 

There is no pain

You are a wussy

Coming in when

I break down the D

Don’t forget to drink it with tap

Your rebounding will be a snap

Youuuuuuu have become

Comfortably dumb

 

 

Dr. Pearl approaches Gil at the faculty table in the cafeteria

“Gil, I’m a little concerned for Mike. Did you loan him a gym towel? Because he’s over by the Hostess rack rubbing the towel on his head while sucking his thumb.”

Some things are better left in “Snoopy has Rabies, Charlie Brown”.

 

Then there’s P2. Oh my God, either that is a painting between “Death in the Family” and “A Question of Fear” on the Night Gallery or some idiot, while taking a drag from his Marlboro Menthol Lights 400’s and/or sipping his Diet Cherry Mountain Dew knocked over the jar of black paint and good reflexes kept P2 from Filion being afflicted with a blackhead the size of a slaughterball that Clearasil couldn’t dissolve down the garbage disposal. I’m opting for the former.

And you Rush fans (been a 2112 freak like you all) are in for a treat. This plot couldn’t get any more saturnine and since reading “Snow White And The Seven Dwarfs” hasn’t sent him to La La Land (“Gil, you read with such ENTHUSIASM”) and he is STILL in his present funk, it’s only right that I quote from 2112, “Soliloquy” the tune, a one a two,

 

The basketball is still in my eyes

Mouthguard still in my head

I hear you rambling and sadly smile

And lie a while in your bed

 

I wish your speech might come to pass

And fade like all my dreams

 

Thinking of what this team can be

Playing like the ’96 Bulls

But the ‘Larks can’t carry on

Pretend we’ll fight for the Championship

 

Why don’t we end this silly charade

And

Play

Basketballllllllllllll

 

Electric Alex Lifeson solo for several minutes, suddenly Steve Luhm breaks in on Dr. Pearl’s intercom after playing “3 Blind Mice” on the xylophone as an intro

“Attention all you Milford Mudlarks out there, this is the Dictator of the Confederation

We have assumed control

We have assumed control

We have assumed control”

 

Dr. Pearl approaches Gil at the faculty table in the cafeteria

“Gil, I’m a little concerned. I caught Filion with a blanket sucking his thumb with his head buried in the toilet.”

“Wait a minute, what were you doing in the boys’ room?”

“We were short-handed for hallway duty today, remember?”

Ah, well, nobody can’t say I didn’t give Filion the ol’ college try. Better than a trowel from Snap-On Tools.

 

BTW, is Gil wearing kilts in P1? Never mind.

 

P3 is scaring the daylights out of me. What is Gil going to do, give him a shot? Brother, I can see this. Go for it, Gil. Dig that needle the size of a putty gun out of your desk that you left under the spare umpire ball bag, indicator included, in case some dumbass umpire left his at home when doing your games in the Spring, and just plow that needle straight ahead in Filion’s Gluteus Maximus. You may fire when ready, Gridley.

 

Okay (Okay Okay)

You might feel a little prick

But there’ll be no more

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

But you might feel a little sick

 

At the doctor’s office

“How did his cheeks get glued together, Nurse Ratchet?”

“Gil, used the wrong injection again, Doctor.”

 

 

“They’re Rockin’ and Rollin’ here in Mudlarkland!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Filion’s a Diaper Dandy. Boy, he’s awesome, Baby!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And I love Aardvark when he Slam Bam Jams!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And he cleans the glass so well, I’ve put him on my All-Windex Team!!!!!!!!!!!!! Better get a T.O., Coach Andrews, I’m smellin’ a run by Milford!!!!!!!!!!”

“Time out is called out on the floor. This is Mike Patrick along with Dick Vitale, with the score, Milford, 54, Oakwood, 44. We’ll be right back after these messages.”

 

“Do you want to spend a weekend with the kids but still enjoy the finer things that life has to offer? Hi, this is Coach Thorp. I’ve asked the same question myself, especially when I’m with the travel squad.

The Milford Beverage Warehouse has just completed tghe multi-million dollar Budweiser Multi-Purpose Family Playground & Generic Recreation Facility, or Budplex, as we call it around here.

Shoot, you don’t need to go driving around the neighborhood looking for a jungle gym when there’s 10 to hang from right here where you can get your favorite Message in a Bottle. Sipping from a Canadian Mist 750 ml while hanging upside down while kiddies go play hide-and-seek? Ma, plenty of room to hide in this bad boy. And we have Pinkertons to make sure they don’t hide in roped-off areas. Don’t want Jack and Jill clueless around the Boone’s Farm shelf, now, do we?

It’s a blast going down the slide with Keri and Jaime as I satisfy my taste buds with a long-neck bottle of Heineken from a 12-pak. And if you aren’t afraid of heights, you can teeter-totter with your kids guzzling any Smirnoff. Shoot, if you can walk and chew gum at the same time, going up and down with your daughter while keeping every drop in your shot glass oughta be a breeze. Trampolining with the munchkins with your tummy chilled with Michelob Ultra. Buddy, only doing the same thing with the Swedish Bikini Team is better.

Why go down to McDonald’s to their playground when all you’ll be running circles on the merry-go-round forever with just a Happy Meal? Man, that’s no fun. Who wants to get dizzy and puke up a small order of fries? Come on down to Milford Beverage Warehouse where you can get it on with the kids legally and they don’t even card you at the playground. Works for me. Come on down, Milford. Give your kids the thrill of their lives and enjoy a tall boy too. Only at Milford Beverage Warehouse.”

 

“Today’s Black History Month entry is another person dear to my heart, Phil Lynott (LINE-it) . You may not know his name but many of you know his group, Thin Lizzy. Phil is an Irish African-American who really got the ball rolling on the Double Lead Guitar sound which just ABSOLUTELY worked and worked well. It came in handy for his most well-known song, “The Boys Are Back in Town” which has just flat-out been a standard for a lot of scenarios, in particular sports scenarios. Yeah, our Boys are gonna whoop some butt this season cuz they’re back in town.

Phil also sent “Whisky in the Jar” and “Jailbreak” to the charts for good measure and was also noted as a STRONG songwriter (trust me on that one) . Phil broke the mold that African-Americans were confined to R & B, Disco, and Jazz. His kick-ass Rock ‘n’ Roll style has an audience with me. Please join me in saluting a man who has long been overlooked for his talents and his contributions to Rock ‘n’ Roll. RIP, Phil. Ya done good, My Man.

 

Gang, if you’re not comfortably numb, take ‘er away. Give Gil the ride of his life since we’re being taken for one ourselves. Only right.

 

Dr. Pearl approaches Gil at the faculty table in the cafeteria

“Gil, I’m a little concerned. Mike is attached to that blanket while sucking his thumb.”

“Dr. Pearl, you interrupted my Boston Market Meat Loaf and Bucket Fries for THAT??? He’ll grow out of it. What’s the big whoop-de-da????”

“He’s using the other end to wipe.”

February 6, 2019

Does Gil Realize??

gt02062019

Do you realize that in the Valley we’re in last place?
Do you realize I stare into space?
Do you realize that Marty Moon makes me cry?
Do you realize that our entire team someday will die?
And instead of playing counselor to me, let me know
You realize this season’s passed
You cannot coach us out of last
You realize that Howry is a clown
He’s just getting off because we’re missing the playdowns
Do you realize?
Do you realize that even Marty Moon someday will die?
And instead of getting hung up on my play, let me know
You realize your time has passed
Resign and give your job to Kaz
With Mimi, get drunk as the sun goes down
And then you could stay away from the balls that are round
Do you realize that in the Valley we’re in last place?
Do you realize?
(apologies Wayne Coyne)

 

February 2, 2019

When Your Loophole Becomes a Noose

gt02022019

Remember bonfires? Pepperidge Farm remembers. Pepperidge Farm also remembers growing up in the country and going to high school in a one-traffic light town where everything you did went down on your permanent record in the court of public opinion, even in the days before the internet.

Without any exposition, we don’t know whether The Gang That Couldn’t Shoot Paint were charged with anything or got off with a warning (maybe ’cause Deputy Dawg went back to huff the spray paint he made the kids leave on the ground). We do know that the blue mafia played telephone with Gil, who’s now fixin’ to make his already bad team even worse.

Again, without any additional exposition we have no evidence that a crime has been committed. Will Gil’s punishment fit the crime? Death Valleys until they puke? Benched for a quarter, or a half, or a game? Do they get kicked off the team just like B/Robby? Really, what’s Gil’s long game here? Kick enough kids off the team to forfeit the rest of the season?

The only bonfire we’ll be seeing hearing is the one the Marty n’ B/Robby Show will be firing up to burn Gil in effigy.

January 23, 2019

Milford Hoops: It’s Not Life or Death

gt01232019

Boys and girls, suicide is no laughing matter.  Especially when your coach/authority figure suggests you might be considering it.

Even the Milford cheerleaders are getting sucked into the abyss of despair.  Too bad they don’t have a girls’ team they could be cheering for.

In my own (admittedly ancient) experience, having crappy sports teams doesn’t typically drive a student body into mass self-harm.  What typically happens is that apathy sets in. The crowds get smaller until they’re composed mainly of the players’ parents and those kids who still want to see and be seen. Students find other extracurriculars to fill their time and boost their college applications. I hear the A/V Club is getting popular in Milford.

Whatever they do, they certainly don’t let some self-aggrandizing punk-ass who couldn’t make the team or remember to do his equipment manager job for daydreaming about coaching get under their skin.  (Speaking of self-aggrandizing, I seem to recall a post that kinda sorta predicted B/Robby might end up working with Marty.)

I suspect Rubin is setting us up for A Very Special Gil Thorp but I also suspect this isn’t gonna win him a Reuben.

 

January 16, 2019

WDIG – Like a Radio Station, Only the Guest Is Calling the Shots

gt01162019

A convergence of souls is upon us.  Marty has tricked out his crate and added the busted Venetian blinds his mom had put on the curb to make it look like he has a window to the outside world.  He’s invited Ricky Bobby Robby Howry (aw, shoot, I’m calling him B/Robby from here on) over and is using his erector set to pass B/Robby a beer while he sips hooch from his trademark sippy cup.  That begs the question: is Howry old enough to drink? Just how old is Howry, anyway?

We only saw B/Robby in the winter 2014-15 arc.  For the sake of this post let’s assume he was a senior then.  Also assuming he followed a traditional postsecondary educational path, that would make him a senior at a four-year college so, okay, yeah, he’s probably old enough to drink.  I’m also curious as to where B/Robby is getting his money to bankroll robbyreport.com and the Three Billboards Outside Milford; if the richness is only in the words, we’re not talking about very much money.  Anyhoo that would require me to put more effort into postulating on his backstory than I have time to today.

I could also spend time thinking about how noble Gil will fight off this tag team (hoping against hope for a Herk the Mauler redux), defend his honor and discredit B/Robby in one fell swoop but, again, ain’t got time for that.  I will speculate, however, that B/Robby’s next move is not to try to take over Gil’s job but Marty’s, with the goal of becoming Milford’s King of All Media.

 

Older Posts »

Blog at WordPress.com.