This Week in Milford

December 2, 2017

We’re that Much Closer to Giving Up This Silly Plot

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Know what else needs to be given up? Whigham’s obsession with goatees, sidelong glances, elf hair on women and whipping down the glasses Horatio Caine style. It’s already a comic strip; it doesn’t need to be any more cartoonish. Maybe a cameo from Tank McNamara‘s Dr. Tszap would help.

Going with the color version of the strip today so we can all see that Uncle Gary is so full of shit his eyes are brown. Neither he nor Connie Soto are doctors; how would they know better than Rick Scott that Rick Soto needs medical attention? Of course, UG could be one of those ambulance chasing kind of lawyers who knows just enough about personal injury to have made it big on contingencies to sit around at his sister’s house all fall and play Svengali.

There are four NCAA FBS conference championship games being played this afternoon and evening. What says Milford will lose that many games in that many days over the next two weeks?

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November 18, 2017

Life-Changing Foreshadowing

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Wow. Take away the dialogue from today’s first panel and you’d be hard pressed not to think Uncle Gary was fixing to slap the hell out of his sister Connie. I’m sure it’s really meant to be more of a “talk to the hand” gesture, as in “What Rick thinks (or you think) of my grand scheme to make him famous is of no consequence to me.” Or, in the words of someone I alluded to in my last post:

The only person’s life in need of obvious change here is Uncle Gary, but not in the way he thinks.  What does dad in Dubai think of this? Why haven’t we seen or heard diddly from him? Wouldn’t Connie or Rick have mentioned Gary’s scheme to him already? Wouldn’t he be back on the next Emirates nonstop into Milford International Airport to beat creepy uncle to a pulp? Meanwhile…

“We’re here at Milford High School, where we’ve secretly replaced Rick Soto’s head with one off a broken Rock’em Sock’em Robot. Let’s see if anyone can tell the difference!”

Rick is not getting the gist of veer blocking from Coach Steve Boone. Maybe Uncle Gary’s little scheme is proving too much of a distraction. Maybe the fake concussion Uncle Gary claimed Rick had will turn into a real concussion next week. Then the real life changing may begin.

 

 

November 6, 2017

How About A Crane Shot, Uncle Gary?

Filed under: Boredom in Milford, Just plain sad, Milford Idiots, Secret Thoughts — nedryerson @ 4:46 am

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So this whole plot is mostly an exploration of the depths of Uncle Gary’s delusions. Fun.

 

November 4, 2017

The Easily Swayed Dr. Pearl

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….Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaand we’re right back where we were last Saturday. Gil can resist Uncle Gary’s relentless Astroturfing, but Dr. Pearl apparently cannot. One might think that the administrator, with her fancy book-learnin’ and cushy desk job, would cast a more jaundiced eye toward the email campaign – starting with finding out who is sending them.

Makes me wonder what Uncle Gary’s firing off in those missives on his teeny tiny laptop with his freaky deaky hands:

Pearl, Pearl, Pearl,

Come be my lovin’ girl

Don’t you marry Lester Flatt

He slicks his hair with possum fat…

 

October 26, 2017

Thinking Big ≠ Cat Videos

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If Uncle Gary’s idea of “thinking big” is going viral in a YouTube video with a cat, maybe Rick should stick with football. At least find a better agent – one that doesn’t think of himself in the third person – or a cat. Doesn’t the cat at least have to be grumpy?

For such a hotshot lawyer, Uncle Gary’s been spending a lot of time on his sister’s couch for the past two months. Shouldn’t he be billing hours, or organizing a cancer fun run, or something?

October 21, 2017

They’ve Got Prairie Style Windows in Omaha, Too?

October 20, 2017

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I got the spirit (Hey!)

It’s in my locker (Hey!)

A bottle of vodka (Hey!)

And if we win (Hey!)

We get some gin (Hey!)

And if we lose (What?)

We get no booze (Aww!)

And if we tie… (Yeah?)

We still get high! (Woo!)

— an actual chant by teenchy’s high school football team, long ago and far away

Uncle Gary just doesn’t get it. Win or lose, shared goals and camaraderie are two important lessons that can be learned from playing team sports.  In recognizing that, the teenaged Rick Soto shows himself to be far more mentally mature than his cardboard cutout shyster of an uncle. We haven’t seen team player behavior like that from a Milford athlete since True Standish, The Golden Child, let Jarrod Hale score the winning touchdown in the state championship game. So ease up, Uncle Gary; Rick might just be lining up his future roadies for when he hits it big on the Midwestern fraternal organization open mike night tour. He hasn’t even been concussed yet.  That dubious honor looks like it might fall to…

October 21, 2017

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… Mike “Don’t call Me Castle” Fillllllllllllion. Well here’s a surprise – a strip featuring neither Rick Soto nor Uncle Gary but Gil flexing his old school jockocrat muscles (and his right arm with two elbows) by pulling his QB out of this unknown teacher’s class.  I can see Filion’s eyes clouding up already – oh, wait, they’re just exploding.  Making a kid nervous by yanking him out of class then telling him to relax is just the kind of mind game you’d expect from a coach whose one trick on the season is putting a linebacker in at fullback. Wonder if Gil’s gonna tell Mike that Pelwecki’s getting some reps under center next week?

September 21, 2017

In Which We Learn Milford Truly Is 1959 with Cell Phones*

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Why else would Rick choose to sing** a song that became a Billboard #1 hit that year?  Why else would he dress like Howdy Doody while he sang it?  Finally, why else would Uncle Gary refer to him as “young nephew”? Who actually speaks that way? Snidely Whiplash? Dishonest John? I’d better stop now lest y’all think I was alive in 1959. (I wasn’t quite yet.)

Uncle Gary gets tiny props for recognizing the minuscule odds of Rick having a football career, but loses those props for not recognizing the minuscule odds of Rick having a singing career.  The fraternal organization lounge singer circuit must be a hot one. Maybe he has a hot tip that a remake of Beyond the Sea is in the works.

*h/t TWIMer Philip, in yesterday’s comments.

**For that matter, why did Rubin feel the need to lampshade that Rick was singing, a/o/t playing some sort of instrument?

August 12, 2017

Killin’, Wishin’, Hopin’

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I’m not gonna engage in mental gymnastics today beyond guessing what Jaquan has backward is that he wishes Heather (or Trey, or Pelwecki, or someone) would tell him they wished he coached basketball.

There’s been too much suspension of disbelief required to hang with this summer plot. An NBA star rehabs an injury under the supervision of one of his old high school opponents, in a gym he converted from his parents’ old house?  That old opponent is now some kind of master trainer with more than one client? The ex-soccer player, ex-undersized tight end is now a coaching genius? The greasy-haired big lunk lineman is suddenly gonna turn into a skilled ball carrier/receiver? The greasy-haired big lunk lineman’s regular-season coaches are gonna note this and give him touches (but not like the touches the coaching genius has been giving him)? Stop this crazy train, I wanna get off.

What I do find remotely plausible is that Jaquan wants to coach. We’ve heard nothing about his NBA career post-draft. Even after donning a hoodie in the middle of summer, he’s drawn only the attention of the cook at Janet’s Diner (via the waitress who looks like Claude Akins). Maybe he’s not the superstar we’ve been led to believe and has just been eking out a living on a string of 10-day contracts between stints in the D-League. Maybe he’s seen enough of how Gil skates by in Milford to want a taste of that life. Maybe I’ve run out of theories and just wish Herk the Mauler would show up again.

metapost: Even as I try to get back into the habit of posting the B&W version of the strip, it’s been pointed out to me that the color version contains a fairly egregious error.

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Musical inspiration for the post title:

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