This Week in Milford

April 19, 2019

Hats Off!

Filed under: Just Plain Awesome, softball — robmize2013 @ 9:14 pm

As Harry Carey would say– Holy cow! Its a rarity for there to be a real happy moment in the middle of a storyline, but this is it. Hats for everyone. And theyre all red, to go along with the red pants and red jerseys. How heartwarming. Oh yeah, hearts are red too!

Thats really gonna be a statement when they all walk into a room with their new fedoras on.. I think its just a rare feel-good moment in a strip that rarely has any until the end of a story, and even then its usually contrived. This is really different in that regard. Team unity should be over the top now.

Of course its possible that there are storm clouds ahead and Whigrub is merely teasing us with good feelings before the inevitable jealousy of some sort creeps in, but I tell ya, I’m gonna enjoy this while it lasts.


April 18, 2019

Will It Sell In Platteview?

Filed under: Mimi Thorp, softball — tdrewhardin @ 8:07 am


I have a nagging question that won’t go away. Did Thorpiverse rip off an Omaha phone book somewhere from a deserted phone booth off that snaky metal cord and head to the nearest sleazy diner, order a cheeseburger and coffee, and just start going down the list while he’s waiting for his cheeseburger to reach Tums stage? Musta had a helluva pocket knife to sever the cord. Musta been desperate too as us Thorp veterans are used to generic high school names, a Madison here, a Riverton there, not this Pet Shop Boys Worldwide Pony Express/Overland Trail Heritage of Nebraska Tour 2019 route that T-verse is presently employing. Really, who’s next on the schedule? Chimney Rock? Is their nickname the Slaterunners?

Marty Moon at the mike

“And she’s running on the pitch, the throw down to 2nd, and SHE’S OUT!!!!!!!! That’s right, ‘Lark fans, Jocelynn guns down another Slaterunner. They’d be wise not to run on HER arm!!!!!!!!!”

I’ll let you be the judge.


We were there…on the Oregon Trail

“Mimi, I called their athletic director. I can maybe squeeze it between New Thayer and Scottsbluff. But lining up the umpires is gonna be dicey.”

“But we can hitch our wagons to their posts?”

“Yes. And the Cartwrights own some property by the bluffs. Got holdings all over the West. Nice little lodge your team can sleep in. I’ll mail the check to Ben Cartwright this week.”

“Tell him that we can take on his Virginia City team and we’re rarin’ to go. I understand Hoss is their coach?”


Then there’s the Rockville factor. Back in my home town, Rockville(home of the Dumps), Pringles did a test market survey back in the ’60’s. Well, I think you know where this leads and it isn’t at the Apache Nation where the Lady Mudlarks are scheduled to play next week, complete with exchanging of gifts, peace pipes and beads for Jimi Hendrix hats, one autographed by the same when he was jammin’ with Buddy Miles and Billy Cox on Band of Gypsies.

The trite reasoning was if they’ll munch on those crisp parabola-shaped chips loaded down with more sodium than Gil sprays on his hair every morning, they’ll munch on ’em EVERYWHERE. Yup, even as I text, someone on the Eiffel Tower or in his Maserati going 100MPH on the Golden Gate Bridge or at the South Pole dining with the penguins is munchin’ on Pringles Bar-B-Q or Pringles Cheddar and Sour Cream or Pringles Original (nifty and catchy red design got snackers snackin’, evidently) or Pringles Buffalo Style, all because at one time when the Vietnam War was in full swing, Rockville was indulging in a pop-off cylinder of chips.


Rejected lyrics by Country Joe & The Fish

What are we doin’ over in Vietnam

Don’t ask me, I don’t give a damn

Watching the Mudlarks beat Grand Island with singles

Here in my lawn chair snarfin’ up Pringles


Yeah, I like Pringles but I don’t blame Country Joe for desiring something stronger if we wanted to twist the Administration’s arm on pulling out the troops. We could only go so far with “Congress never declared war on ‘nam” logic.


So, yes, this story had a happy ending. Pringles is virtually a multi-national corporation (devouring Pringles Salt & Pepper in Prague, trust me), Rockville got its chips it could virtually call it’s own and city officials even sent a shipment to Platteview. Attaway to pass on the kindness, Rockville. The only hitch was Platteview sent back a case of Pringles Dill Pickle ‘n’ Dijon Ranch. Too many P-view citizenry with acid reflux, they complained.

Ours isn’t a perfect world when promoting Hands Across America.


Lookin’ at my watch a 3rd time

Waitin’ in the back lot for the bus

Food was bad, umps no better

We played our game and got a win for us

I know they need to get some pitching and a cleanup hitter to raise a ton of fuss


Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

And waste another year


Timbuys, Big Guy, I have desperately tried to contact you but my phone evidently won’t send email messages. Sorry to leave you incommunicado and will try to get this fixed. I solved one problem. I can solve others. THANK YOU for all you do for me.


Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. And His Porsche Overrun By Cattle On The Chisholm Trail!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Suffers minor bruises; Cochran not implicating Lady Mudlarks in lawsuit.”


What a sexy combo in P2. Roy Orbison shades and the MTV logo. And this damn concept would sell if they’d quit spelling “Milford” in Vulcan. You can see the letters of the girl’s uniform in the back but you need a lorgnette to read Mimi’s shirt? God forbid this is the modus operandi on an eye chart at Milford Optical.

“Okay, put the cup over your right eye and read the letter I’m pointing to.”

“M…U…C…K…, no wait, start over, M…O…T…H…, ah, a hit, let me try again, M…I…Omega…Gamma…


On a late night episode of F Troop on WDIG-TV

“IT IS…..BALLOON!!!!!!”

“No, Chief, it’s just the Lady Mudlarks landing here for a 3-game series. You did remember to get extra tipis, right?”


And where IS that girl going in P2? The same place Dagwood’s background people go when Dagwood is cussing out Herb Woodley or Mr. Dithers is cussing out Dagwood (BUMSTEAD, you bumbled that Platteview contract!!!!!!!! I’m docking you a week’s pay!!!!!!!!!!!!!) or Dagwood is cussing out Elmo or Daisy the Dog? Okay, I might be stretching the last one but you old timers, I’m sure, remember when that mass of anonymity would pass by while Blondie would go shopping and Dagwood would be with her and she’d be using Dagwood as a sounding board while deciding what to buy? And the blob would keeping passing by in obscurity until Dagwood (normally) would utter some smartass remark, THEN the blob would all be looking their way. And it was a unique Chic Young (the author) trait, something hard to mimic. The blob, or crowd, would fall flat on their face in B.C. or Prince Valiant or Green Lantern or Dennis the Menace or Buzz Sawyer or Roscoe Sweeney or Ziggy. Hell, Marmaduke would scare off the blob.

But that’s where this poor creature is evidently headed, towards Dagwood Hell to face a life of Sisyphean Blondie-gazing, stuck in Macy’s or Kohl’s or Woolworth’s or K-Mart or Saks 5th Avenue or Milford 5-and-10, or wherever Blondie drags Dagwood around to shop for clothes, destined to be a part of men and women whose only purpose in life is to watch Blondie field Dagwood’s zingers. I know I WOULD get right with God if I knew what the consequences were otherwise.


At night I drink myself to sleep

And conjure all the teams

That we have yet to play

Lincoln, Wahoo

It’s a frickin’ holiday

I know it might sound strange to play a squad

That’s known by the moniker, Ogalalla


Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

And waste another year


Uh oh. Santa and his Reindeer has just pulled up. Okay, Santa, I take back all the things I said about Gil’s hair. Can I have that Lionel Train Set and Matchbox Collection I ask you about when I sat on your lap at the Milford Mall? Surely it’s in that bag SOMEWHERE.

And I remember when I was a kid when I went to my dentist and the 2 things that stand out was his Frank Gorshin-as-Riddler laugh and semi-demeanor and his largesse from the Goody Drawer if we were good boys and girls while he and his dental assistants were undergoing root canal work. I’d get a toy plastic car here, the ones you got free inside a box of, say, Trix or Fruit Loops, or a smiley face there. Nope, couldn’t get Barbie Dolls or GI Joe Action Figures, the Goody Drawer wasn’t big enough, just a little reward for behaving yourself while he was fluoridating your gums.

I think Jocelynn brought along the Goody Bag today. You’ve been such good boys and girls, mainly girls, that you are going to get whatever you like in the bag, even if it’s primarily hats.

Here’s a Mouseketeer hat for you, Linda, a Beetle Bailey cap for you, Jamila, so they’ll never see your eyes when you’re pitching, art of deception, y’know, a Bear Bryant fedora for you, Nancy, Roll Tide Roll, a Patton helmet for you, Mimi, er, Coach, it might jump start a dead battery and cause you to actually lead the team not let Gomer Pyle issue the order to fire in the hills of Africa when Erwin Rommel is coming.

Somewhere in Tunisia

“Pyle ist Dummesel. Ich bin optimistisch.”

“Ja, Sie konnen optimistisch seien. Ich nicht.”

Couldn’t say it better myself, Rommel. Mimi needs to be optimistic AND in charge. Might help the team.


So after all the hat-passing, are we going to see any more softball, let alone BASEBALL this year? Or is there going to be another Dances With Wolves powwow, designed to promote Native American relations even if it doesn’t promote sports anytime soon? To quote Stuart Scott, are gonna get jiggy with the plot?

“Chief say we can’t play that weekend. The Great Hunt starts Saturday and men gone all day. Ladies are needed to prepare the cooking. Everybody really hungry and in no mood for softball. We have no problem with following Saturday. We welcome competition.”

I’d have Jocelynn present Gil with a chief headdress but like the true Tatanka that he is, he’s been gone on a Golf Convention down in Florida. Using his Sick Days from school. And he’d look silly anyway with Arnie and the Golden Bear on #4, Dog Leg Right. Hell, Jocelynn, just give him the Slicer/Dicer. He needs to learn how to cut up Julienne Fries anyway when Mimi and the Mudlarks are battling the eskimos in the bottom of the ninth.



“Sir, you’re reading from USA Today.”


It’s not as though we really need this

If it were smut, I wouldn’t read it

And they have played ’bout every town

In Nebraska, up and down

I wonder if that’s how it oughta be


Well, I know it might sound strange but I believe we’ll be in Ogallala once again

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

Don’t go back to Platteview

And waste another year


Have at it, Gang. I’m going to see if I can get a Yankees cap. Just to remind me that baseball still exists even when the sport wound up in the Bermuda Triangle when Thorpiverse grabbed a hold of it.



Not bad, but that’s Mimi’s Lee’s label.”


“…You’ll wind up on some vacant sand lot

That’s full-time filth

And nowhere else to go…”


April 13, 2019

Slugger, Leader, Hat Model


Fellow TWIM bloggers, where are you going for the color version of the strip?  I used to use the Seattle PI comics page but it looks like it might be behind a paywall now and just accessed it again (thanks to loyal TWIMer Downpuppy).  If one of you find it, could you please update this post with a copy?  Check out Jocelynn’s hat in living color.


That is some serious Carmen Miranda-level shit going on right there.  Somehow I doubt she got a free bowl of soup with it.

This wraps up what has been a long week – five strips to play one game.  Something tells me we’ll see two or three games in a single strip more than once and hey, what about those Mudlark boys?  Been kinda nice not hearing about them.  Kinda nice for Mimi to play cheerleader and not field leader, though that may prove problematic down the line.

A couple of odds and ends to bring today’s post to a close:

We carp about playdowns in the Thorpiverse but I only found out recently that here in Pennsylvania we have high school playbacks!  In multiple sports even!  Best as I can tell, they’re kinda like double elimination rounds where you can play your way back into the state playoffs.

Finally, in stumbling around looking for a color version of today’s strip I stumbled upon this blog, which concisely summed up the BRobby Howry arc in far drier fashion than we did here.  Maybe that’s where all of Jason’s readers wandered off to…


April 10, 2019

The Bases Are Loaded: Is the Artist Loaded Too?


Okay, could all y’all who said you were going to sleep please wake up and help me figure out the bizarro details in today’s strip?

Panel one starts out okey-dokey. Nice detail on the batting gloves, Chief and, uh, nice effort on using words that a softball player might use, Rubin.  Jocelynn Brown must be part of the Brown-Hiatt family ’cause she’s making things happen.

We get to panel two and what the hell is going on here?  Is this a Milford baserunner, base coach, or someone standing on a bag about six feet from the outfield wall?  Did she get her arms from an all-you-can-eat Alaskan king crab leg buffet?  Is she wearing Japanese tabi cleats?  Isn’t 410 a deep wall for high school softball?  (With this perspective, kinda makes you think that should read 4/20.)  Finally, is that a smaller Ricozzi’s Pizza billboard on the fence?  How funny would it have been had big money BRobby Howry kept buying ad space ripping Gil on his own playing field?

On to panel three.  I know that ideally a home plate umpire doesn’t line up directly behind the catcher, so as to have a better view of the outside corner of the plate.  I can’t recall ever having seen an ump line up that far off center – nearly perpendicular to the catcher – even with an unseen left-handed batter up.  Maybe someone who’s been to a softball game more recently than I can confirm this is legit.

Oh, and someone please tell me Benson uses this cheer:


Okay, everybody back to sleep now.

April 9, 2019

“We Beat The Mighty Ducks. Now Go Kick Bugs’ Ass.”

Filed under: actual action, softball — tdrewhardin @ 10:07 am


Laughter is free

But it’s hard to be

A TWIM reader



No one’s believin’

That this plot

Has any meaning

And we’re shocked

All the time

Deep inside


Sorry, Gang, had ta start off with a Moody Blues number to confront the Mighty Bunnies. Who’s their mascot, Elmer Fudd?

Shhhhhhhhhh. Be vewy vewy quiet. I’m hunting Mighty Bunnies. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA

I mean, really, can’t you see the fans in the bleachers, along with the fielders, shoutin’ out “Heyyyyyyyyy, battuh battuh, heyyyyyyyyy, battuh battuh SWING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” with Elmer Fudd leading the charge from his megaphone??? Shoutin’ something derogatory to the umps

“Come on, ump, you need gwasses!!!!!!!!!!!! That pitcher can’t thwow stwikes. That pitch was at his bweastpwate!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

I can see the discipline report

“Man with severe lisp and shotgun by the chalk liner was getting very abusive with the men in blue. Repeated warnings were to no avail, even when offered rabbit stew from the concession stand. Had to be escorted by Dudley Dooright from the premises.”

And what’s he gonna do when it wains, er, rains????? Is he going to be able to fit under the concession stand with the rest of the fans?????? One would hope but some concession stands aren’t fit to withstand the capacity of a whole slew of bunnies, mighty or no. He could always go to the maintenance room and sit on a riding mower if the door is unlocked and his butt will fit on the mower.

Gil and Elmer, sitting on bags of peat moss stacked about 6 bags high, talkin’ baseball. Willllliiieeeee, Mickie, and The Duke. Priceless.


I’ve shed a tear for this plot

Watching it rot

Hoping it skips town


With back flips, cartwheelies,

Somersault feelies

Baseball’s one big clown


Laughter is free

But it’s hard to see

Gil coaching anytime


No one’s believin’

That this team is achievin’

We’re not shocked

At the thought



P1 is interesting. Surprisingly, it really doesn’t have too many flaws, that’s what happens when Gil isn’t in the portrait and you can”t make another Everley Brother crack.

Mimi returns to Hee Haw. Lulu is sitting in the bleachers at the Milford Multi-Purpose Parthenon and Atheneum and Outdoor Facilities General Recreational and Enhancing Activities Softball Complex, surrounded by corn fields, the developers nice enough to bulldoze 9/10 of the same field but leaving Lulu and Grandpa Jones and Buck Owen and Roy Clark, et al SOMEWHERE to sit.

Mimi: “Hey, Lulu!!!!!!!!!!”

Lulu: “Hey what?????”

Mimi: You know how many Everley Brothers it takes to screw in a light bulb????????”

Lulu: “Wait, don’t tell me, Grandpa Jones  told me before he had his lobotomy-”

Mimi: “3. One to hold the ladder, one to screw it in, and one to say ‘ Hey!!!!!! You dumbasses, if we’re gonna make it down to the Muhlenberg County Fair, we can’t pull a Gil and wait!!!!!!!!!  The WK is backed up because a semi overturned and spilled Bucket Cheeseburgers everywhere!!!!!!!!! We gotta go now!!!!!!!!!!!!”



Oh, there’s Grace Jones gracing her presence in the hallways. I’m kinda curious what position she plays on the team. I’m comforted knowing that she’ll have a helmet big enough to engulf her hairdo so we can focus on her position. Ahhhhhh, Mimi know all, tells all.

“Grace, I’m going to try you at DH. Watch the ball all the way into your hairline.”

“Yes, Coach.”

And Mimi pulls off Hoosiers II

“What’s the matter now??????”

“Coach, if you’ll give me a bobby pin, I’ll hit that homer. Their pitcher is throwin’ mangoes.”


Then there’s the Hand of Lurch. Why can’t Thorpiverse draw anatomy of teenagers without involving Father Time?????? Do teenagers carry their Chem 1, Advanced Lit, Algebra 2, and Mechanical Drawing textbooks attached to forelimbs once owned by a little old lady from Pasadena who only used them on Sunday?????? Then endowed Barnabas Collins with them in her will before she died?????


At The Bucket

“WOW!!!!!!!!! That banana split looks awesome!!!!!!!!!! I’m gonna order that. Hey, waiter!!!!!!!!!”

“You rang?”


If ya pitched a no-hitter for Milford Foundry on Men’s Open Slo-Pitch Wednesday Night against Milford Toyota cuz half their team was too drunk to even bunt the ball ta git on base then go right around and coach Milford Tool & Die’s ladies team on Ladies Industrial on Monday night, complete with scorebook, pen, and Bud in your back pocket so the ump don’t see it while you’re standin’ square in the 3rd base box, ya might be a redneck.


And while I can appreciate their membership in the Reader’s Digest Book-of-the Month Club, they really should be toting textbooks. Isn’t that why they’re in the hallways to begin with???? I’m sure “Ball Four” was interesting (not really, Bouton was a clubhouse lawyer throughout the book, IMHO) but it’d be wise to be studying your capitals for that Geography 203 test tomorrow.



If ya bought a new Hillerich and Bradsby Titanium special cuz ya like ta hear the WHACK of the bat when yuz hittin’ a homer over the right field fence even when the poor beer-bellied right fielder is givin’ chase and his CRACK is stickin’ out while he leaps 2 inches off the ground tryin’ ta rob ya of any glory, instead of KRAK, somethin’ some Pole stuck in the English language at ball games when Hary and Steve weren’t lookin’, and now it’s standard vocab for Fodor’s Polish in 10 Days, ya might be a redneck.


It sings

It dances

It throws and it prances

The ladies put on a show


Too bad

This is softball

No disco, no cannons

Linda won’t get shot out

Guess we better go


Laughter is free

But it’s hard to be

A Mudlark when it counts

No one’s really caring

The ladies have no daring

And they choke

Under pressure




OK. P3 made me laugh. Benson Mighty Bunnies??????? But hold on, this was more of a Thorpiverse contrivance than a School Board-motivated vote. And I like different until it involves Thorpiverse and different has a tendency to steer the plot and create another New Madrid Fault. Life on the Mississippi with a steamship full of Mighty Bunnies steered by Mark Twain. And Thorpiverse one of the patrons. It’s different, if nothing else.


Anyway, I like different nicknames. In my home state of Indiana we have the Vincennes Alices (don’t laugh, they won the State in Boys Basketball in ’81 and have always been formidable) and the Shoals Jug Rox (named after the biggest free-standing rock structure east of the Mississippi, shaped like a jug, propping another boulder perpendicular to that-drive east on US 50 as you head into Shoals going down a gentle curvy hill, it’ll be on your left, can’t miss it) . So I like different. It makes for good high school rivalries.

But again, when Thorpiverse is involved, well…

That’s why I’ve employed the help of the late Stuart Scott, a man who took ESPN journalism to a new level and as long as the Mighty Bunnies are going to stick around

“It must be jam cuz Elmer don’t shake like that”

“Porky Pig, one swing at the plate BOO-YAH, it’s gone and the Mighty Bunnies tie it up”

“Foghorn had a no-hitter going through 6, Leghorn was like buttuh, he was on a roll”

“And they called Daffy Duck the Bus Driver cuz he took Linda Carr to School with that laser in left”

“Yeah, a grand slam and the Mighty Bunnies are runnin’ away with it, making the Mudlarks pay for no scrimmage cuz of all the sorry-ass excuses, YEAH, I’M FEELIN’ YA, BUGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Oh, my, look at that great catch to rob Nancy of extra bases, can I get a Yosemite Sam from the congregation?”

“The dog in Foghorn Leghorn was cool as the other side of the pillow”


If you have others, go for it. Stuart would have wanted it that way.

Stuart, I miss you. You brightened my day EVERY day.


Comment away, Gang. Just watch out for that UFO in P3. And tell the coach in P3 the box is on the other side of the line. Oh, that’s the umpire. Doin’ the “Same As It Ever Was” dance as the Mighty Bunny runner. Ump, I think the proper mechanics is “Safe”. You know, wave both arms away from you, not strut like David Byrne.Remember, the umpire manual says “No one likes an actor.”


Laughter is free…


Your painted hair hides you

While you still hang out on the

Golf course


And Tomorrow’s fine

Fused as one


Upon you

So be thankful

For your painted hair


er, Gil

If loneliness wears the crown

of the

Veteran Cosmic Mudlark

April 6, 2019

In Which Linda Channels Her Inner Pete Seeger


They say at Milford High School
There are no neutrals there.
You’ll either be a Mudlark girl
Or worn out and pull your hair.

Ya know what’s worse than robmize complaining about the Cubs’ bullpen turning into the Nationals’ bullpen? The Nationals’ bullpen still being the Nationals’ bullpen! But yeah, it’s been some rocky going for our respective teams a week into the season.

Speaking of rocky going, what’s the Vegas line on Linda and David’s relationship lasting through baseball and softball season? Something’s gotta give and odds are it’ll be the dating that goes first. Nobody likes being called a hypocrite even if they are being a hypocrite, so that’s a nail in this relationship’s coffin. I guess one thing Milford has going for it is that it’s not the Canadian universe of For Better or for Worse, in which everyone was doomed to marry their childhood sweethearts. Still, that might’ve given us some hockey action and made the synchronized skating thing a bit less contrived.

April 3, 2019

We Never Did See That Scrimmage


“I was at a Comic Con last weekend – and I have this Wasp bobblehead to prove it!”

“I don’t think anybody asked – or cared – where you were, Nancy.”

Pretty tricky of Nancy to hold that bobblehead steady as the floor and the lockers slide away from beneath her feet.

Speaking of writing blogs… Tiny credit where credit is due, or acknowledgement that Whigrub must see this blog: Whigham is gradually moving away from putting huge earrings on his teenage girls to putting multiple small ones on them. Still has this thing for the ears poking out out of the hair elf style, though.

Alright then. All this hoohah about the scrimmage and who didn’t show up for it and why has been going on for two weeks now.  When does it advance the plot?

April 2, 2019

How Bizarre.

Filed under: actual action, softball, What the hell is going on here? — tdrewhardin @ 4:25 pm




WHAT??????????????? P3 isn’t ELO’s video “All Over the World” video??????????? That just sucks. And just when I was getting happy feet from all the gossiping, belly-aching, and dancing, not necessarily in that order.


Visited The Bucket

They fried me up a shake

I can’t brook this valley talk

It’s pneumatic and it’s fake


Cut the dope

Nuke this Soap


Sittin’ in the bleachers

Observing girls at play

Flappin’ ’bout their troubles

They’ll be scheduled any day


So I hope

Can we cope, can we cope, can we…….


Ooooooooo, Baby(Pewwww, Baby)

It’s drivin’ us crazy(it’s shit and it’s hazy)

Every time we stick around(do we have to)

Every time we stick around

Every time we stick around

We lose faith


And we’re STILL in a valley but if you think I’m discussing the Valley conference, I got that vacant lot behind The Bucket to sell you cheap. Don’t snicker. One of these days they’ll make a playground out of it or a soccer field. You just beat your 3rd grade homeroom rival on penalty kicks from the Milford Elementary Major Soccer League, it’s Bucket time. Time to grab a cold one. I’m talking about a Raspberry Slushee, dolts, The Bucket is still in litigation over the liquor license issue. May take a while, Sharkey’s brushing up on Real Estate Law, taking a couple of night classes at Milford Community College. One of them was Advanced Rezoning Appeals 301 but I can’t remember, been some time myself since I’ve taken the class.

Back to the topic, Jacqueline Susann would be proud of this group of gossipy girls. This Valley of the Dolls is just writing its own script. Susann can go to Milford Styling Shoppe and get her hair bleached like she’s always wanted, get her nails done at Milford Nail Salon, and get a tan at Milford Tanning Outlet and still come back in time for this San Fernando Valley to reach the epilogue. You talk about having blinders for the Redwood forest because you’re too caught up in the trees that squirrels and unicorns piss on and you plunge head first into the Pacific Ocean.

“…No, really, officer, the unicorn was wiping his butt behind that elm tree at the entrance to Golden Gate National Recreation Area. I was about to get out some Charmin and didn’t notice the San Francisco Bay. BTW, where’s my car?”

“Got a call from dispatch. They just towed it out of Alcatraz.”


Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Throws Out His Back At Milford Shopping Mall!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Former Bill was trying to keep up with teenagers dancing to Electric Light Orchestra’s ‘All Over the World’; will have to wear a back brace for 8 weeks.”


I mentioned the Harlem Globetrotters a few weeks ago. And sure, they gossip just like the rest of us mortals. I bet the Boston Shamrocks do the same thing (“Boy, Meadowlark needs to do some thing about that overbite.”) . But during the GAME, I bet they throw gossip to the wind and act like PROFESSIONALS. No “Did you notice Curly changed his barber? Said the other was gay and Curly wasn’t interested?” while they’re in the free throw spaces while a Boston Shamrock is shooting a free throw to complete the 3-point play. No “That Shamrock needs to buy some Janitorial Size Oxy-5 for his butt. I can see them pimples through his shorts at the half-court line” while the Globetrotteers are breaking a press. No ” Mimi’s leavin’ Gil for Goose.” “Man, where we gonna put her? The plane’s already full.” Hell, we can sit her on Abe Saperstein’s lap. He won’t mind. She works better than jumper cables and he’s already had a stroke” while the Globetrotters are doin’ all that razzle-dazzle (lot of that going around, might want to take some Ny-quil before you go to bed) for 30 minutes, finally Meadowlark pulling the ball out of his shirt and shooting a Kareem sky hook, to the consternation of the Shamrocks who were anticipating a slam dunk.

In, short, P1 is more razzle than dazzle, leading to a commercial break about Ovaltine. Dentu-Creme pulled out as an ad last week after the plot went slower than it takes for the adhesive to stick to the gums. I guess they didn’t want false teeth on the softball field. Linda and company would be gossiping about some parent’s dentures leading into Golf in August. Can’t have that.

“Yeah, I’m so sure, I drink a quart of Ovaltine before my Synchronized Bowling match. I get more spares that way.”

“Groty to the max!!!!!!!!! I drink a liter of Faygo Wild Cherry. I rolled a 300!!!!!!!!!!”


Oooooooooooooookkkkkkkkkkkk, Gene Rayburn has been gracious enough to help us cope with a plot getting off on the wrong foot already. Not even the Cubs could shoot themselves this much in the foot (Robmize, I was trying to hold back) . Without further ado

“Dumb Dora was sooooooooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought you had to have another ______________________ to Synchronized Surfboarding.”


Before we go ANNNNNYYYYYY further, you have to be blinder than Stevie Wonder to NOT notice Nancy Kaffer having gone through the Mr. Potato Head factory for her physical composition. And those are either earrings or she needs a flea bath BIG TIME. P2 is nice if you enjoy Mr. Potato Head attempting to rally the troops since Mimi can’t even get a simple scrimmage going without some lunkhead saying she can’t make it because that’s the weekend she has to be at the Security Council meeting at the UN to vote on expelling Easter Island from the UN due to nuclear spillage still rampant underneath those statues. Chile had to dump their load SOMEWHERE, I suppose.


And I was thinking that that was Ricky Ricardo in the background, playing sports for the Mudlarks when he’s not leading his band at his club but forgot those are girls; ah, but I came up with Plan B, i.e., one of the dancers in OMC’s video “How Bizarre.” Dancer and softball player, woman’s got versatility. And ears you don’t have to stick in a socket like Nancy.


Alone in the gymnasium

It wants of any action

Sophomore Intramurals

Was the main attraction



Spare the rod, spare the rod…


Bought me box of Cracker Jack

While baseball’s put on hold

The prize became a Gil doll

Good Heavens, that is cold


Batter up

Had enough, had enough, had…


Ooooooooo, Baby (Hey, Baby)

It’s driving us crazy (Gil is so lazy)


Every time we’re pushed around (We push back)

Every time we’re pushed around (That’s a fact)

Every time we’re pushed around

We pull rank


“…so the mandrill asks the jackrabbit,’ do you know how to get out of South Dakota?’

And the jackrabbit answers, ‘What do I look like, a trombone player for Ricky Ricardo’s band?'”


“Good news, Mimi. I made my own mom laugh. And I didn’t even have to resort to Harry imitations. I’m making PROGRESS!!!!!!!!! I’ll get there. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”


If you want to jump right into P3 and dance to “Rapper’s Delight”, be my guest. Because that’s about as much as going to get accomplished. If Mimi would take CHARGE, there’d be no need for this Mouseketeer roll call. Okay, talk about how bad the last Donald Duck cartoon was, that Donald should not have been up Daisy’s skirt, that there’s standards within the Disney world, that it wasn’t necessary for Minnie Mouse  to admit she’s been off the wagon and frequents Milford Beverage Warehouse more than she sees Mickey, but Mimi, YOU’RE THE COACH. Enough of these players-only meetings that are more players than coaches. SOMEONE’S got to direct traffic and it looks like Linda anmd Nancy are the de jure coaches. And I don’t even know Latin.


“Hi, this the absentte owner of The Bucket. Our establishment is getting dragged through the mud, thanks to a lot of distorted and misleading information.  Let me clear the record and say I will ALWAYS bre absentee to better serve our customers. And we are only seeking a liquor license because we feel our customers deserve a slice of the pie. Sure, Mil;ford Beverage Warehouse can serve fresh cheese cake. We just want the fork.

Gil should know better, He’s splayed out one too many times in one of our booths after mixing a Tom Collins he smuggled in The Bucket with a Lemon Lime Bucket shake. In front of his own kids, no less. Can’t he get his thrills without involving the family?

And Gil says we are stalled in litigation right now. Nothing could be further from the truth. We have hired one of the finest New York attorneys, the ones who represented the Gambino family, so we expect competent counseling to get us through the bad Bucket o’ Shrimp until Joe Sharkey graduates next Spring, Real Estate Doctorate in hand from the Clarence Darrow School of Law at Milford Community College. We’re so confident that nobody from  Cosa Nostra will shoot up the juke box that we are offering free Double Cheeseburger Combos, Swiss cheese extra, should someone come in with an Uzi and truncate Air Supply’s ‘Two Less Lonely People’.

And while we admit you can FOR NOW stock up at The Warehouse, the Milford Beverage Commission has issued a Variance and we can sell Creme de Menthe, on ice cream products only. Otis the Drunk might not be thrilled about ordering a banana split but if it’s sprinkled with Hersheys Chocalate Syrup and Tapioca Creme de Menthe, he might change his tune, especially while being lead back to his jail cell with El Dorado in his right hand and down his shirt.

Come to The Bucket today and clear up the rumors. We still sell the same things we’ve been selling to teenagers for 60 years and now we’re prepared to encounter the 21st century with new ideas, new breakthroughs and new cuisine, especially the ones you drink to while celebrating your passing the bar. We promise Sharkey won’t be on the streets all decked out. He doesn’t want to get hit by the Milford Street Sweeper. The Sopranos have given us their word.

We’re ready for change and I don’t mean Susan B. Anthonys. Are you?”


Comment away, Gang. I’m going to Milford Chiropractic tomorrow morning. I knew I shouldn’t have done the YMCA dance.


Filion’s in a nuthouse

Got to see a shrink

Has to gather sanity

Or the story’s going to sink


Down the john

Gotta yawn, gotta yawn, …


Golf is not much better

It shows when things break down

Get tired of taking Gil’s advice

Much rather pump a clown


From the town

Circus town, circus town…


Ooooooooooo, Baby (Ooooooo, Gilberto)

It’s drivin’ us crazy (This plot is so spacy)

Everytime we hit the ground (From a bomb)

Everytime we hit the ground (feels like ‘Nam)

Everytime we hit the ground

We lose face

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