This Week in Milford

December 19, 2019

Take My Emissary, Please.

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Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

These Woody Woodpecker jokes

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Belong in an ash tray, Folks

 

Don’t these ignorant churls

Ever flirt with the girls

Rather than utter inane humor

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Teddy’s head is one great tumor

 

I lost track of how many panels we’ve been seeing in the name of (fingers crossed) establishing the plot and this ain’t pretty, Gang. We have already learned that Alexa the Computer who goes by the nickname HAL doesn’t like being called IBM (“You don’t like being called “Al”, Dave. You can understand), Chris lives in the Twilight Zone and is HAL’s competition on the academic front and that Teddy Demarco’s idol is Woody Woodpecker. It shows.

And instead of going to the Milford Comedy Club on Monda y(“Open Mike Night”) and doing his own act, he’s gotta send Mop Head to do his dirty work. Did you ever see Rodney Dangerfield’s step-brother shove Schroeder on stage, after the latter was in his Hanes practicing “Eine Kleine Nachtmusik” (Lucy: “Schroeder, put on some pants, I don’t care what Gilbert & Sullivan piece you’re playing”)? That’s the equivalent today.

But the possibilities

“Yeah, I stuck my head in the microwave and after 30 seconds, the kids start calling me Jiffy Pop Head. I’m tellin’ ya, I don’t get no respect.”

Come on, Monday.

 

It’s bad enough that a few panels ago, we were observing Mudlark Ladies in their uniforms gossiping in Lifetime Basketball Gym Class, but Woody, if you’re going to sacrifice a lamb to dig at somebody, don’t send Mop Head and his See Spot Run humor.

 

See Dick over there.

He’s playing basketball with Jane.

Dick’s going to do a Cake-Baking-Baby-Shaking-Rump-Roasting-Bun-Toasting-High-Flyin’-Robinzine-Cryin’-I’m-Gonna-Go-Groovin’-So-Ya-Better-Get-Movin’-Wham-Bam-Thank-You-Ma’am-Glass-Breaker-I-Am-Jam on Jane.

Dick blows the dunk.

And Chocolate Thunder is crying.

Poor Dick.

 

Now THAT’S humor, Mr. Woodpecker.

 

Big shout-out to Chloe Whitaker of Louisville, Kentucky. She represents America with her hard work and determination. As a manager of Pizza Hut, she is able to get the pizzas and drinks out, the delivery drivers on time, and greet the customer at the Carry-Out with the professionalism that keeps the customer coming back. She is doing this while raising a family. Gang, I think she needs to be treated with respect. Come see why next time you’re in the area at the Pizza Hut on Lower Hunters Trace and Dixie Highway. I salute you, Chloe. America needs you.

 

Hoo boy. What is THAT hiding behind the balloon in P1. As long as Johnny Carson is going to congratulate the up-and-coming comedian for making Ed McMahon puke in his martini by making references to the comedian’s Chef Boy-Ar-Dee head, when he’s not making fun of someone’s lack of activity on the basketball floor (That happens around HERE? Perish the thought), I’d like to surmise the latest entry into the Pantheon of Mysterious Objects.

Some of you might call it a window. I beg to differ. I think Frida Kahlo contracted with the Chet Ballard-less Milford School Board to paint one gigantic banana she found in her back yard. The gods blessed the Mayan civilization with their own version of manna and it crash-landed in Kahlo’s kiddie swimming pool. What better way to commemerate damages to the scenery and still stay true to character. Even if you can’t fit the Chiquita on the canvas, well, hey, this is artistic expression. Sometimes you gotta use your imagination. Might as well, we’re having to do that with basketball. I bet the Dagwood Bumstead background crowd would agree. Yeah, smile for the camera, John Doe the Teenager, as long as you’re breaking the Fourth Estate while munching on a Twinkie. Or is that Diego Rivera, Frida’s husband? He’ll show up more than the officials at Mimi’s basketball games.

 

If ya git on stage and start rattlin’ off Hee Haw humor that yore readin’ off the note cards ya made out of the toilet paper in the outhouse, requirin’  3 rolls ta fine-tune yore act, ya might be a redneck.

 

At the Milford Comedy Club on Open Mike Night

“…and so Woody Woodpecker says to Pogo, ‘ya wanna split the scene and see what Winnie the Pooh is doing? I heard he’s trying to get Tigger off the bottle.’ And Pogo says ‘What do I look like, Elmer Fudd?'”

Silence

“Gil, I understand Mimi needs an assistant. They’re actually going to play basketball this year.”

 

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Greg Brady got dissed again

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Peter is really pissed, My Friend

 

This comedy show

Really needs to go

We prefer a gutter soon

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Basketball’s done began its swoon

 

Okay, okay, you swing-first-ask-questions later crowd aren’t satisfied so here’s what I’m gonna do to address the situation at hand

 

FRIDAY NIGHT, 8:00PM AT THE MILFORD GARDENS

 

CHRIS “THE ANIMAL” SCHURING

VS.

MR. T a/k/a TEDDY THE BEAR

NO TIME LIMIT, NO DISQUALIFICATION

MUDLARK CAGE MATCH

LOSER SPENDS THE REST OF THE SEMESTER TYPING MS. RIZK’S SYLLABI FOR INTRO JOURNALISM, ALL 4 CLASSES!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DON’T MISS IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BE THERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

Doesn’t that just fill your cup for vengeance? I know I get a rush while I’m typing all this. And I understand Anonymous Calculus Dude will be the referee.

 

P3-“I ran into a guy once who said he hadn’t had a French fry in 3 days.”

“What’d you do, Groucho?”

“I fried him.”

 

 

“I gave my wife my hair. She said, ‘No thanks, Dear, I have enough stuffing in the pillows’.”

BA DA BOOM

You can see the rest of Henny Youngman this Thursday at the Milford Comedy Club.

 

Gang, anybody who knows me knows that I live for coffee. I’m sipping on a cappuccino even as I text. And Folger’s is the best in the business, in my view. And Virginia Christine, the lady who played Mrs. Olson in the Folger’s commercials is a great actress.

That said, I’m a little befuddled why a lady with a Swedish surname has a German accent

 

At the Thorp Hog Farm one sunny day

“Mommy, there’s a strange woman in the kitchen.”

“I wonder who that can be?”

Gil, trying to snarf a bite of sausage from his Gil Thorp Pure Pork Italian Sausage and Wheaties breakfast sees the light

THAT’S MRS. OLSON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“You are rrrrrright, Coach Torp-”

“Thorp, Mrs. Olson.”

“It’s OK, Mimi, she’s Latvian. They have trouble with their “TH’s”.

“Now vy don’t you bot seet down and I vill make you a cup uv Folger’s Hazelnut?”

“Ummmmmm, umm. Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage Links, some Eggo Blueberry Waffles, some Trix, and Folger’s hits the spot, Mrs. Olson. They DO have Trix on the shelf in Patagonia, right, Mrs. Olson?”

“Gil, I think she’s German trying to be Bjorn Borg.”

“Eeess OK, Mrs. Torp, some people tink I’m an Eskimo with my accent. But I tell tem vetter you arrrrrreee Chinese or frrrroommmm Haiti, Folgers hits de spot at ze Milford Fireman’s Ball.”

“Mrs. Olson, I don’t care if it’s against the religion to sell Mel Purnell or Tennessee Pride or Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage in Oman where you’re from, my sausage patties and your coffee are a winning combo anytime.”

“Gil, don’t I satisfy?”

“Mimi, sometimes I get tired of eatin’ my Gil Thorp Kosher-Prepared Pure Pork Sausage with your combo Eight o’Clock Decaf and Nestle’s Quik concoction. Sometimes a man’s gotta have good eatin’.”

“I’m not talking about the coffee.”

“Whatever, Mrs. Olson and the rest of her Lapplanders know how to deliver good coffee FedExed on the reindeer. Nice to know when I’m devouring my Gil Thorp This Ain’t Jimmy Dean Pure Pork Sausage.”

“Oh, Mr. Torp, you say ze nicest tings. I will lose my Bulgarian accent and join you for breakfast.”

“Sure, there’s plenty of Gil Thorp Flapjack-Size Sausages to go around. In fact, why don’t you finish that plate my kids were eating off of.

And Folks, get your package of Gil Thorp Pure Pork Sausage today. Tennessee Pride’s porkers couldn’t hold my jock. Come see why at your local grocer.”

 

Have at it, Gang. I’m sneakin’ in for the early show at Milford Comedy Club. I understand Gil will be funnier this time. The producer is making him use a teleprompter.

 

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Time for this farce to end

Huh huh huh HUH huh

False comics may not extend

 

I’ve seen better acts

That’s a mighty fact, Jack

Slapstick that made you laugh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

Huh huh huh HUH huh

An overload of frickin’ gaffes

 

 

Speaking of Carson

“The last time I had hair like that, Ed was begging me to make string cheese out of it as a substitute to cure his drinking.”

“Stop it, Johnny, you’re killin’ me!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

 

“Mr. Freeze, after you’ve freeze-dried Batman and Robin in that gigantic Thermos cup, have some Gil Thorp Pure Pork Fritters to celebrate your takeover of Gotham City.”

“Gil, that’s Mrs. Olson serving Folgers Breakfast Blend and scones.”

October 15, 2019

Disappearing Into The Science Fiction Time Loop

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The notion that Charlie would vaguely remember a kid in another second grade class who transferred the next year nearly ten years later when the kid transferred back into the district strains credulity. These oblique and dilatory plot setups are easily the most frustrating part of reading this strip. Don’t show, don’t tell, only vaguely and irregularly allude to is one sort of storytelling structure I suppose. That this is all centered around a brand new character when the whole Tiki Jansen fiasco would’ve served the dramatic purposes of the current arc is all the more frustrating.

Frankly, Chet’s suggestion is more interesting than whatever desultory denouement we are likely to be treated to at the truncated termination of this Fall’s football foofaraw.

Bonus point: That the leaves are still falling while Chet and Charlie are clearly done raking for the day.

Minus point: Of the Milford villains we’ve been exposed to in the thirteen (!) years this blog has been running, Chet is easily the least interesting. I welcome the commenters to prove me wrong should any of you be so motivated.

July 5, 2019

Old Home Week? More Like Old Home Summer

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Picking up a few of the pieces of the meet-cute backstory from yesterday. TWIM old-timers, you may want to fast-forward through this (or read this kinda summary from two summers ago).

In 2005 Jaquan Case, then playing for Bishop Tardy, was under pressure to turn pro straight out of high school. The pressure was coming from his Uncle Rudy, who was Jaquan’s guardian after the death of both of his parents, and from the sporting goods company Tronix (which would rear its head years later by sponsoring a football camp for college prospects). Meanwhile Hadley V. Baxendale, spawn of lawyers, was making her case that the Lady Mudlarks weren’t getting the perks and attention that the boys’ team was getting. Gil shot Hadley’s demands down whilst manspreading, except the one for letting the girls have the gym on a Friday night because the boys wouldn’t be using it.

After meeting Jaquan in Gil’s office (where he ducked his handler to study), Hadley decided that she needed to help Case make his case to postpone his NBA plans and go to college. With then-boyfriend Steve Luhm’s help, Hadley arranged a meeting between Jaquan, Gil, and Hadley’s lawyer father, Ed (what is it with lawyers named Ed in the comics?) who confirmed that Jaquan’s dealings with Tronix wouldn’t harm his college eligibility. Turned out Rudy could fail and Jaquan could go to college.

As a way of thanking Hadley for helping him make his case, Jaquan pulled some strings and had Tronix send new practice jerseys and game unis to the Lady Mudlarks, who proceeded to work their way through the playdowns against several teams from the Philly suburbs. What Jaquan still thought he owed Hadley is best left to the imagination.

Hello, TWIM readers. We’ve come to the point in this post where those who didn’t read through all of this will have to stand up, or sit down and scroll down the page. In fairness to those readers, we’ll now take a few seconds before we begin side two.

 

 

Thank you. Here’s side two.

Once again Gil reminds us that Milford is a man’s man’s man’s world. He can’t be bothered by such trivia as wedding dates and locations, knit hats, rally hippos, merit badges, and winning ball teams. Those spatula-shaped second-degree burns on the back of his hand might bother him, though.

Oh look, another old character pops in this summer to make us forget about golf.  This time we don’t have to go back a decade and half but only a few months to revisit the tale of Tiki Jansen. You’ll recall Tiki was a New Thayer football player who wanted out of New Thayer because he was being bullied there, so his fam rented an apartment in Milford to give him a fake address and let him play there. Looks like the Jansens are keeping up this charade but the MHS School Board has no interest. How do these plot lines come together? Probably by letting Hadley get in some pro bono work.

April 25, 2019

The ’69 Miracle Mets And Stuffed Hippos, Guaranteed Recipes For Success.

Filed under: Just plain sad, Pissy faced minor character, premature baldness, softball — tdrewhardin @ 12:29 pm

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Gang, have you noticed the last 6-7 panels that we ARE at the ballpark and they DO have their uniforms on their person, oh, and Jamila took one for the team and brought her Muppet to instill new-found confidence in the team, but it’s still anybody’s guess if there’s a game, practice, team shootaround, walk-through, scrimmage, (naw, scratch that, already been tried once and got voted out at the Constitutional Convention) , pepper competition, hitting drill off the T-ball tee, Bar Mitzvah, Silent Auction to raise money for softballs and stuffed crocodiles (Plan B in case stuffed hippos go south) , or they just met at the ballpark because The Bucket got shut down by the Milford Health Department (too much salmonella in Bucket Burgers, I’m guessing) wearing their uniforms because all their school clothes are at the Milford Dry Cleaners.

 

Thissssss just sucks

No batting or no pitching

Exists to start the day

We’re left with hats

And stuffed pachyderms

The team is going down in flames

Nothing to say

Nothing to sayyyyyyyyyyyyy

 

Let us cling together as the games go by

O Mudlarks, Mudlarks

Finding hope in broken toys

The season evaporates our joy

Let us never lose the lessons they should learn.

 

Sorry, you whippersnappers, I know you got your music,and I like much of it, but musicians like Frank Zappa, David Bowie, and the group singing the song above, Queen, transcends ANY generation, in my book. Had to play them (RIP, Freddy Mercury, “Liar” just electrified this 7th-grader in his day) . Check out “A Day at the Races”. Vintage, Gang.

 

I’m sorry, Gang, but I’m having a hard time swallowing Jerry Grote telling Tom Seaver that he left his stuff on the subway because he bought the wrong stuffed animal at Toys ‘R’ Us. You brought a giraffe and the Chinese New Year called for a stuffed panda. And don’t forget to bring your koala in Game One against the Orioles. Mike Cuellar is lugging his stuffed wart hog.

Lesson 101 in remembering that the “Too-cool-for-school” merchandise normally gets trumped by something called practice, game preparation, team focus, y’know, winning formula for success, if ya wanna win. One of my favorite managers, Tony Larussa, said it best: “You can’t win if you don’t have a plan”.

And don’t get me wrong, being a Christian, I have let Jesus Christ be Lord of my life concerning athletics, it works for me anyway. If you serve a different God, okay, I NEVER judge, but again that’s what keeps me going in the world of athletics and has for several decades. But in Exodus, when the Israelites got a little lax when going to battle, God reminded them prayer was over, I will deliver your enemies to you but you can’t take a detour to The Bucket, praying 5 times a day to Gil’s house.

And speaking of “Too cool for school”, whadup wit dat? All these Stay in School messages everywhere, especially in schools, but yet John Brown is fomenting another rebellion from the grave. Learned his lessons from Harper’s Ferry and now applying them to the Mudlark Softball team. I know some Abolitionists will go to any extremes (Thaddeus Stevens comes to mind) but can’t they confine their partners-in-crime above the age of consent? I can’t see Brown fighting off the Federal troops at Harper’s Ferry with Winchesters and stuffed rhinos because he was too cool for the Confederate States of America.

“Did you know that Jefferson Davis combs his hair with a pitchfork? And he uses pig lard to shower himself???? Ooooooooo, groteee to the max!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

But I suppose if Camila has a piggy bank the size of a catcher’s Mitt, she and the team can explore the right combo until the good luck charms win you the hardware. Just ask the Mets. Really, I think a witch doctor somewhere in Queens just hated the Cubs and the rest was history. No Robmize, don’t put a hex on me. I have my stuffed Bob Knight here somewhere (ha) .

In the meantime, the girl in the center needs to spit her Red Man Mint Long Cut the other way. I wouldn’t want chaw stains on my Bob Knight doll.

 

Gang, I’m a little befuddled by this sign I saw at a trailer park the other day, naming one of the residents, Tenant of the Month.

“Arnold Snerdley has been named Tenant of the Month at Milford Executive Estates because he pays his rent on time, keeps his trailer immaculate, and keeps his panther on a leash. No stuffed anteaters were crammed in the storage shed in his yard like the 2 now-evicted residents, who chose to ignore trailer park decorum. The panel of judges have felt he more than deserves $25 off his next rent, $10 off his security deposit, front row parking at the trailer park office, and a gift certificate for a night out at The Olive Garden for a Spaghetti Plate marinaded w/ Milford Valley White Grape. Congratulations, Mr. Snerdley, and here’s hoping for anteater-free woodsheds for many years to come.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Named Resident Of The Month At Milford Chase Luxury Apartments!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“His certified check comes every 1st of the month.”

 

And please don’t tell me Richie Cunningham and Hot Date of the Month, who doesn’t have stuffed penguins in her closet at Milford Executive Estates, talk about Jerry Koosman winning Game Two because he struck out Boog Powell and Frank Robinson with a stuffed Mudlark, over French fries and Lowenbrau at Arnold’s. BTW, Richie, did you know you have an omelette on your head? Some of the waiters can be clumsy. Anyway, I have some Clearisil here in my backpack, oh, here it is, under my Gil Bear. Well, I gotta have something to snuggle up to at night, a la Mr. Howell with his teddy on Gilligan’s Island. He wasn’t going to snuggle with Skipper.

And I have seen freakier hands but I see NOW where Rod Serling developed his ideas for the Night Gallery episode, “A Fear of Spiders”.

 

Whhhheeerrrreee is Gil

His sabbatical just sucks an egg

And baseball’s toast

They won’t find home

No closer than Nome

They’ll search all over for a team

That hit the coast

Hit the cccooooaaaasssssttttttt

 

Let us cling together as the games slip by

O Mudlarks, Mudlarks

David Walter’s all they got

And his head is clearly shot

Let us never lose that lesson they don’t learn

 

And really, we could have survived with just panels today, skipping P3, since that was essentially a continuation of P2, I mean, we get the point, stuffed hippos earned Donn Clendonon the MVP award. Lord, how he had it stuffed it in his jock strap while hitting a clutch homer in Game Three but that’s another story. And if we don’t get caught in The Rapture first and the strip continues tomorrow, we’ll likely experience more gossip than ground balls, more stuffed animals than strikeouts.

And what is it with this rainbow shot in the background? We have freak hands already. Do we have to have freak rooms too????? We are at The Bucket, I presume? Or did The Bucket order a multi-colored strobe light to put by the window to attract customers??? Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds and Carry-Out, man, that’s the ticket. “Hey, I didn’t order purple fries. I’m going back to the cashier.”

I think it’s safe to say that if the wife doesn’t feel like cooking, she won’t tell her husband there’s a nice restaurant on the other end of town with a rainbow by the handicapped parking.

 

If ya went back to the taxidermist to change the mount on that 10-point buck in the den ya shot 5 years ago and want ta change it ta a black bear ya shot in yore back yard cuz he was rummagin’ in the garbage cans fer the B-B-Q rib bones ya threw out, all cuz yore NFL team is on a 5-game losing streak, ya might be a redneck.

 

“Losing a loved one always hurts and the expenses incurred adds to the problem.

Hi, this is Dr. Pearl on behalf of Milford Funeral Solutions. Recently, I lost my great-great-grandmother to skin cancer. Unfortunately, she had been out in the sun too long and it caught up with her at 171 years old. We received much prayers and calls but it didn’t alleviate the cruel reality that we would have to donate her body to science at Milford Community College if we couldn’t afford a proper burial.

The friends at Milford Funeral Solutions came up with a solution to address our financial crunch while still being able to stage the viewing. Their caskets that they procured from the Woods class at Milford Vocational Institute was steady and durable, a load off my mind, given they were throwaway 2 x 4’s or so they claimed. And embalming was a snap. Never underestimate the power of power tools from Harbor Freight, of which they have a partnership. Friends come from all over at Milford Funeral Solutions.

The funeral service was also a breeze AND affordable. Instead of footing the ever-rising costs of a minister, Milford Funeral Solutions utilized the FCA Chain Gang from Milford Penitentiary. They looked awkward with their orange uniforms and chains on their hand and feet while we were singing “Softly and Tenderly (Jesus is Calling) ” and while they giving the eulogy but when one of them laid hands on my great-great-grandmother for her last rites, it was all worth it. So was not charging double for an open casket.

Come see for yourself at Milford Funeral Solutions. Where, if you can’t get pallbearers because your family’s dead and gone, Milford Funeral Solutions will furnish them at no extra charge. Peace of mind when you’re heading to the grave site.

Milford Funeral Solutions. Where you are assured your loved one is in good hands and so is your wallet.”

Comment away, gang. I just can’t explain why they’re serving green and maroon Bucket Burgers lately. Better go talk to the manager. Pronto.

Teo torriate konomama iko…

I think Queen was saying, loosely, you understand, Gil, get your ass out of Dennis the Menace. Mr. Wilson has no interest in being an assistant. He has enough problems with Dennis without having to deal with Ruff stuffed as a doll and baseball seasons in dire need of X-Lax.

March 5, 2019

Will Milford And The NBA Be Contending For Basketball Ratings In June? Stay Tuned.

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HEY BOY. YOU’RE LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE IN THEM THERE GYM SHORTS. DON’T LOOK LIKE YA GOT ‘EM OUTTA THE LOST AND FOUND. NICE AND SOFT AND FLUFFY. USED PLENTY OF CLING-FREE, I CAN TELL. LIKE THE WAY THEY MOVE WHEN YOUSE ON A 3-ON-2 DRILL IN GYM. AND THAT JOCK STRAP BOUNCES UP AND DOWN LIKE MIMI’S BOOBS. BOY, GET YORE ASS OVER HERE AND F-

 

Nooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Filion, you okay?”

Filion wakes up. He’s been napping on his English Comp 203 book report, “Milford Horticulture at the Fin de Siecle”. He spots Gil at the desk up front, groggily remembering that Gil is supervising study hall.

“Uh, I’m fine.”

“Fair enough.”

Then Filion thinks twice.

“Coach, can I put my gym clothes in my hallway locker? I forgot I have to wash them this weekend.”

“We have washing machines.”

“I know, but my girlfriend got her toenail polish all over my gym shorts and my mom has some extra-strength Oxydol. It’ll help whiten my jock strap which got grass stains all over it.”

“How did you get grass stains on your jock strap?”

“I guess I got carried away during suicide drills.”

“Filion, we practice inside.”

Before Filion can answer, Gil stands up and bends over

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

“Filion, I was just picking up a paper airplane and throwing it in the garbage. Sure you’re OK?”

 

Gang, I’m going to the vaults again (bear with me while I’m on my soapbox) because Bobby is getting a royal smack-down and only a “Hit the road, Jack, and doncha come back no more, no more…” was necessary. Just hand him his luggage, give him a one-way ticket on the 2:30 ‘Hound out of the Milford Greyhound station and he’s a ghost of the past. Noooooooooo, we gotta drag this on 3 more panels with NO LIGHT at the end of the tunnel, let alone a basketball on the horizon. (Some flunky from the Nina “Cristafero, Cristafero, tierra!!!!!! tierra!!!!!!!!! Yo veo un basquetbol!!!!!!!!! Parace como un Spalding!!!!!!! Y los inhabitantes pueden Slam Dunk!!!!!!!”) While we’re admiring the crew of the Nina, Pinta, and the Santa Maria’s newly-found treasure (Wilson Basketballs are a premium in the Caribbean) , any of you old-timers remember the days of Berrill when some clown like Booby would get his justice in the 2nd panel then the 3rd panel was almost always an abrubt change of direction, more than likely baseball (“Think our pitching will hold, Gil?” “Depends, Tod” as beaucoup players are seen playing pitch-and-catch, pepper, make it, take it, square-dancing, playing Monopoly, Checkers, Twister, Charades, Uno, etc., all 402 players seen on the field at one time “If they don’t separate their shoulder from playing into July, we ougtha make the Playdowns. And I need Booby back to wash the uniforms or we’re gonna stink our way onto the Disabled List. Can he sneak through Rex Morgan over to Milford? Hell, me and Dr. Morgan look alike anyway, we both go to the same barber,  Booby can just say he’s studying to be a nurse under the doc’s tutelage until this thing blows over.”) . And it was just about ALWAYS headed with a “Meanwhile”.

Oh, not today. “Meanwhile” went the way of Booby’s billboards. You might see either back but the times, they are a-changin’. And I mean ta tell ya, Booby is getting the Jesus Christ Superstar treatment. Spit on, carrying his own cross while singing JUDAS’s song “Damned for All Time”, thank Heaven ‘Dig had the decency to let Judas hang from his own tree, otherwise

Soooooooooo long, Booby

Gooooooood ol’ Booby

 

So Booby was spared the eerie chorus singing Judas’ death knell even though in order to get his ‘Hound ticket, he still had to get 39 lashes AND permanent removal. THAT sucks. Of course, I wouldn’t be comin’ back in the studio with those kind of scars on me anyway. And still find out that Marty is still King of the Broadcasting Hill? Won’t go through Double Jeopardy with a 2nd crucifixion. Those Greyhound busses aren’t very comfy when your back looks like Chinese Checkers. And did you see Booby’s hands? DIE IF YOU WANT TO, YOU MISGUIDED PUPPET. That’s tellin’ ’em, Mr. Station Manager.

 

 

Big shout-out to Carol Kassady of New Albany, Indiana. She goes to work at Kroger with a vengeance because she loves her job. As a bagger, she is well-thought of as management and the customers like her courtesy domplete with a big smile on her face. Now that’s service. She also helps the store in other areas, keeping the grocery aisles well-stocked. No wonder why she’s busy. She just gets it done no matter where she’s at. Gang, the next time you’re inthe store on Chrlestown Road, treat her with respect. She’s earned mine.

 

 

 

 

 

HEY BOY. I LIKE THEM DOCKERS YOU GOT ON. THEY MATCH THE PRAIRIE-STYLE WINDOWS IN THE ROOM. AND YOU’RE A SMART COOKIE. YA BLOWED YORE ACT OUTTA THE WATER. YORE HARVARD, BOY. AND AFTER I GET DONE WITH YOUR FILE, I WANT YOU TO F-

Nooooooooooooooooooo!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“Mike, are you Okay? Don’t you want to know what your SAT score was? Looks good from here. 672, verbal, and 602, math. And a couple of good schools have expressed interest based upon those scores. They’re down in this bottom drawer.”

Dr. Pearl bends down to the next-to-bottom drawer.

“Uh, if it’s okay, just call me later at home. My bus just pulled up.”

“Mike, the busses aren’t due for another hour. What’s wrong?”

“Who said anything about a school bus? There’s a Greyhound by the cafeteria entrance.”

 

How many faces does the Station Manager HAVE??????? He went from Chet Huntley the other day to an offbeat Dan Rather today. Does he always display a Chinese Mr. McGoo when he’s pretending to be Matt Dillon?

“Okay, Miss Kitty, that was a rotten thing you said about Jesse James, now it’s time you head out of Dodge by high noon tomorrow. Jesse can’t help it if he twitches when he’s holding up the Dodge City Bank. He gets a nervous tic every time someone reaches for his holster. Thank God the bank manager knew the combination to the safe.”

And as long as we’re going to endure another moratorium on basketball, oh, HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, Thorpiverse, we get it, Mr. Station Manager a/k/a “Matt Dillon after he underwent a facelift at Milford Surgical Group” is talking about DON Rickles. I thought Gil Rickles was a bit out of place and Mimi is a female (Mimi Rickles?) and I could go through the Milford phone book and verify that we’re not discussing someone else but after viewing Jose Rickles, Vladimir Rickles, Ed Rickles, Mario de los Santos de nuestro Senor en El Cielo y Las Estrellas Rickles, I think I better stick with DON Rickles.

And anyone who knows or remembers him knows he gets his humor off of insulting people. He’s not my favorite comedian but I like his style nonetheless so I will therefore implement what I THINK Station Manager Dillon is getting at when he compares Booby with DON Rickles (ambitious though it may be)

“So, where do you see yourself a few years from now?”

“Look!!!!!!!! You hockey puck, can’t you shave any better than that? I have no idea where I might be but I won’t be lookin’ like a beatnik at 60!!!!!!!!!!! You? King in THIS town? What are you, MAYOR???? This town has more cows than basketballs, Mayor!!!!!!!! And who’s the schmuck that cuts Gil’s hair???? Does he always use a roller pin?????? And I saw the Play-Doh in the Station Managers office by his gin and tonic. The schmo mixes good stuff but he mixes his face too. Bad combo, you hockey puck!!!!!!!!!!! Does he date Mrs. Potato Head????? Are they going to enjoy Chili Fries at The Bucket?????? Boy, talk about eating with a cannibal. Tell Rubber Face not to put on after shave!!!!!!!!!!! How much time do I have left???? A minute!!!!!!!!!! Heck with it, I’m through with this town, there’s nothing to do, not even a basketball court to play on, you hockey puck…”

Just want to make sure Rubber Band Man a/k/a Station Manager is talking about the right guy. Elmer Fudd Rickles is the only other choice in the phone book.

 

 

HEY BOY!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE IN THOSE LENSCRAFTERS, 4 EYES!!!!!!!!!! I LIKE THE WAY YA TRASH THE TOWN, CLOWN!!!!!!!!!! GIVES ME A BONER, BOZO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M HORNIER THAN THE WOMEN AT BARNEY’S BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M HOTTER THAN A PEPPERONI FRESH OUTTA THE OVEN AT THE BUCKET!!!!!!!!!!! YOUR WATER BOTTLE AIN’T GONNA PUT OUT THIS FLAME, BOY!!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE TRAPPED IN THE STUDIO, SO YA MIGHT AS WELL F-

MOON!!!!!!!!!! Pull up your pants and fix the problem or YOUR ass is mine for another 2 weeks!!!!!!!!!!! You’re on in 30 seconds!!!!!!!! That loser left 15 minutes ago!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Yes, Boss.”

 

 

A big shout-out goes to Missy Nall as she rolled a spare and a strike at the bowling alley today. it was COLD today, gang, so getting out and about was an accomplishment in itself, much less doing well in bowling to boot. She was great to talk to today and I could tell she loved talking about her game. I’d call that pride, folks. America needs more of that. When you want to succeed as badly as you want to breathe, you will succeed and Missy proves that. She’s got my respect, gang. America salutes you, Missy.

 

 

 

And what the Hell is worth making basketball a possible sacrificial lamb for another few panels that Gil has to put on his jacket and head to God-knows-where for discussion on the Booby thing? Round 2 at Barney’s? Or are we gonna get slushy here and cry about Booby’s departure over several Michelobs??????? I don’t think The Bucket is really a wise venue but it’s their cash they’re toting in their wallets. Just seems talking about Booby in relation to ANYTHING next to a booth with a zit-faced 16-year-old chowing down on his Bucket Double Decker Cheeseburger is asking for trouble. Talk about “Silence is seldom misquoted.”

And what’s the point? The dude shoehorned his foot in his mouth and Rockville is mad as hornets right now and who can blame them????? If they DO go to The Bucket, just don’t announce it on WDIG. Rockville will be waiting in the corner booth, if not in the parking lot. Face it, Booby is toast, finished, kaput, outta here. Can’t set bail on this one, if that’s the intention and I wouldn’t put it past them, given the travesty of lack of basketball. You’re on a roll, Thorpiverse, stay on a roll.

 

“Meet me behind the alley at The Bucket. I got some info on Booby’s whereabouts.”

“Great. What about basketball?”

“Might take a little longer. Depends on when the NBA schedules the Quarterfinals.”

 

Today’s Women’s History Month entry goes to Carol Burnett. I have long loved her comedy and my sister just dotes on her. I can see why. Told she was taking a chance to start up a comedy/variety show back in the ’60’s as only men at that point had been successful inthat field, Burnett just did nothing but make ’em laugh as her show for several years racked up the Emmys, among other awards. She would have a question-and-answer time before the show, a way to show she still had her feet on the ground and the fans everywhere enthusiastically applauded the move. She was also a very talented actress, acting in “Pete and Tillie”, “Friendly Fire, “Annie”, getting nominted for Best Actress by Golden Globe Awards. She would always twitch her ear at the end of the show to remember her grandmother who egged her on for years and died during the show’s run. Also a very talented singer, ppease join me in saluting a woman who showed you could break the mold and be funny at the same time. You keep me in stitches, Carol Burnett.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Do you live a non-stop, work off the set of your pants, sex-crazed, take the kids to soccer practice on Tuesday, Wednesday, and Friday, turn those reports in tomorrow, Golf, hoping you beat Alice Cooper this one time, go-go lifestyle like I do? Is it sometimes hard to smell the roses so you just stick some incense in your car’s ash tray, light it with your Zippo, and just forget it? And what about that St. Patrick’s Day party comin’ up? Gonna skip shopping night cuz Jimmy Swaggart came into town for a one-night-only Holy Ghost, No Tiptoe Through The Tulips Religious Wimps Allowed, Talkin’-in-Tongues, Filled With The Holy Spirit, Baptism-by-Fire, Hell Fire ‘n’ Brimstone, Miracle Revival, Free Parking Included at the Milford Tabernacle?

Milford Beverage Warehouse is here to the rescue. Hi, this is Coach Thorp. Why do I need to go to the altar and have someone ram 10-15 hands on my head and I get a migraine when I can get truly blessed with my favorite brew? And I don’t need a Holy Joe tract for that one. What’s even nicer is that, through cooperation with Lyft and Uber, I can get up to a case of suds delivered right to my door step. Just call and have your order ready and be there at the time you specify and your order is there before you know it. Yeah, don’t take a quick leak or your kid might have to sign the papers. You might get stuck with a Jim Beam Coffee Tree Aged Premium Whiskey when you wanted a 24-pack of Drewery’s and 2 bags of Doritos Cool Ranch. Easier to share chips with the kids than a bottle of whiskey. My o My, a 15-pack of Miller Natural Light hits the spot when diagramming a matchup zone in the den, especially when the Domino’s driver comes at the same time with my 3 12″ Pineapple ‘n’ Pepperoni Pizzas and unleavened Breadsticks. Only bagels and lox go better with a Natural Lite. The Warehouse also accepts Visa and Mastercard. Good thing to know when you get cleaned out of finances because you got carried away grocery shopping at Wal-Mart. Believe me, Yours Truly is guilty of buying 10 Banquet Meat Loaf and Macaroni Dinners when he was only gonna buy 1, they were so damn cheap. And Mimi sometimes forgets to stay within the budget when she goes down the cereal aisle. We have more Life and Cocoa Puffs in the garage than booze, that’s for sure. And when Poker night extends until midnight, past the ante limit of $1000? Thank God my plastic is in the line of duty or in my wallet in my back pocket, whichever you prefer. Sorry, American Express is Booby right now, both totally unacceptable.

And they deliver everything under the warehouse. Yup, if you have a teetoteler at the party, they will deliver that gallon of Milford Dairies 2% Milk along with the 3 24 packs of Corona Extra, Seagram’s Escapes in the 12-pack mini-bottles, and 2 750 ml bottles of Old Kentucky Tavern, complete with chaser, compliments of Deer Park in the 2 liter bottles. Plenty of room in the trunk. And if you’re thinking of pulling off that annual bacchanalian orgy where everybody runs around the mansion butt naked with a bottle of booze in his or her hand, The Warehouse has gotcha covered. In cooperation with the Milford Transit Authority, busses will run non-stop to and from the mansion to your house. And they will deliver all the merchandise in one bus as desired. Grabbing a Smirnoff Vodka off the steps of the bus or opening the emergency door and plucking an Angry Orchard Hard Cider, man, a unique way to live The Good Life. And there’s a shuttle waiting for you after you’ve upchucked in the mansion courtyard after sipping Clos du Bois a bit too hasty.  Nice to know because once you’ve had your fill of some hog weighing 450 pounds and eating grapes and downing several ml of Korbel Summerville Park without a wine glass, you need someone to take you away from the madding crowd and home so you can punch into Milford Foundry at a respectable hour. By golly, sounds logical to me.

Folks, what are you waiting for? The friendly Lyft driver is ready to endow you with a slice of Paradise. Don’t hand the apple to your neighbor when you can take a bite yourself and not break the bank doing it. Call Milford Beverage Warehouse today. The Party is waiting to drive in your living room. Don’t be caught losing the remote.”

 

Gang, Have at it. If you see a guy hitchhiking at 3:00AM, I don’t think the Milk Man broke down in his truck. He doesn’t start deliveries for another hour.

 

HEY BOY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU’RE LOOKIN’ MIGHTY FINE SLURPIN’ THAT SHAKE!!!!!!!!!!!! I LIKE THE WAY YOU WORK IT SLOWWWWWWWW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND THEM BUFFALO FRIES, YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’M LIKE FIDO IN HEAT EVERY TIME YOU ROLL YOUR MOUTH, ESPECIALLY WITH THAT KETCHUP ON YOUR CHIN!!!!!!!!!!!!! CAN’T WAIT FOR SOME BURGER ACTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SPEAKIN’ OF MEAT, GET YO’ ASS OVER HERE AND F-

Noooooooooooooooooooooo

“What’s Filion’s problem?”

“Dunno. I just took his order and I turned around to pick up a quartere somebody dropped from the juke box and he just freaked.”

December 15, 2018

Burly Mediocre Perfection

Filed under: ?, Fontastic, freak hands, Milford Idiots, Milford Weirdos, premature baldness — timbuys @ 10:22 am

12/14/18

121418

While we wait for teenchy to post, please allow me to fill in for Rob’s Friday post.

I would say, based on the alignment of the text to the billboard, that, yes, mediocre is more than good enough. We’ve speculated a bit about how much this is running him. Whatever it costs, this guy is clearly getting his money’s worth. I’m a pretty happy guy and I’ve pulled off a thing or two over the years, but I can’t remember the last time I was so ecstatic that I lifted my arms up to bask in elation at what I had wrought.

Bonus Points:

So, I guess we’re setting up for some sort of Rick (Ricardo?) Soto binge eating PSA. Maybe we could get a very special Gil Thorp on the perils of trying to ingest a whole bottle of cinnamon.

Ricky Soto’s ring finger scares me and if I were Marcell I would be legit freaked out to have that meathook draped over my shoulder.

I’m loving the detail given to the collar of our simply mysterious billboard renter.

November 28, 2018

Less Thinking, More Action!

gt11282018

At Joe Bolek’s house –

“Okay guys, here comes the world

Premiere!” Almost haiku

 

Speaking of the world:

In Milford, five guys is not

A chain burger joint

 

Bolek’s screening room

Should rotate ninety degrees

Screen too close to seats

 

Shape shifting Bolek

Man of a thousand faces

Today looks like Biden

 

Give Joe some credit:

He knows YouTube watchers have

Short attention spans

 

But Tiki gets it

The footage needs to be raw

Like those punks’ knuckles

 

Clark kept shooting to

Erase pain of Milford life

Oh, wait, just video

 

Who else missing point?

Rubin. This is a sports strip

Not Scooby-Doo

 

It’s meddling you want?

Try to replace Karen Moy

Write for Mary Worth

November 22, 2018

Looks like a flash mob is starting

Hey gang – happy Thanksgiving to all! Its not my day to post, but just like Chase Daniel showed us today, you have to be ready when you’re called upon, and my Bears showed the nation why they are serious Super Bowl contenders a year after being a disaster for 4 straight seasons. So I had plenty of Bears Kool-Aid with my turkey and stuffings, thank you.

Back to the strip– and what better way to spend your holiday then in sunny New Thayer? Wtf is Tiki  doing? Standing in front of an on-coming auto is not the best way to extend your life insurance tables lad. Of course no-one else is outside, except for some kid who recognizes him, and runs across oncoming traffic to accost him. Thats how I wait for word to spread that I’m IN TOWN— by just standing on some shit corner. Of course anyone else who tries this — and I mean the other 350 million humans on the planet– would get absolutely no result of their action, other then to be handed a Salvation Army kettle. So why the fuck would Tiki think he’s any different??

Oh yeah, its Milford. No its not. Its New Thayer. Now what?

 

 

 

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