This Week in Milford

October 11, 2018

…’Round and ‘Round and ‘Round and…

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High-flying in this worthless plot

Losing altitude

We go ’round and ’round  and ’round

Until it sucks up air again

 

Sorry, gang, just had to dip from the Classic Rock well again, this time from the Rock band Yes off their album Tormato (scrunching together “tornado” and “tomato”, you whippersnappers) which was released in 1978. And WE ARE just spinning our wheels on this one, allowing a teenager to dominate the landscape when the jury is still out on his character, let alone his game in general, let alone his punting prowess.

No Marty to skin this one alive and hold Gil accountable for spending more time with Arnie and Tiger in August when August was the time to be ferreting out what the heck Gil was going to do for the next 3 months? C’mon, Thorpiverse, you can’t bail out on the “Marty’s been suspended” excuse this time. Gil is roaming free like your small pet in your efficiency apartment and Marty is not there in his 26-cage Milford Animal Enforcement truck to haul him back to the pound. Gil is peeing on every fire hydrant in town.

 

P1: “Raise your hand if you’re Surrrreeeeeee……”

And I could have contrived other deoderant commercials running the gamut from Ban To Arrid, even gone the Roll-on for either one. Such a perfect setting. Coach is on his hands and knees begging Our Hero to come out for the team, Our Hero promising to go out if Coach promises to fork over the two duffel bags of footballs in Dr. Pearls’ husband’s tool shed (apparently an overflow in the equipment room) , give up his Hank Williams Anthology that he ordered one night on a K-Tel infomercial, including liner notes on how he froze to death in his car AND which year he froze to death (some say December 31st, others like the hitchhiker who looked inside, just wanting a ride, January 1st), and puh-LEEAAASSEEEE slap on some Right Guard. Unless some kid went for the jugular and aimed his water pistol at your pits, not that that I’m ruling that out…

Be that as it may, Irish Spring would complement your Big Jake physique.

“Coach, I don’t mean to say you have B.O. or anything and thank you for that photo of Heather Burns’ dad posing next to Bart Starr when Mr. Burns was a teenager and wanting Bart to autograph his Bucket Lemon-Lime Slushee cup when Bart kicked off the Milford Fall Chataqua Festival Parade, but when you and Coach Shaw go hunting, do you mark off spots so your wife can pick up the scent? I think you might want to watch out for female raccoons in heat when you traipse into the Milford Wildlife Reserve on your next outing.”

 

One early morning on Milford Transit Authority Mini-Bus #7757, Marty Moon is engaged in a heated debate

 

“Whattya mean, you had another handicapped passenger??????!!!!!!! WE’RE handicapped!!!!!!!!!”

“Yeah, but this was serious. If he loses his dentures, he can’t eat any solid food. Then he’ll shrivel up and die. We finally found them underneath the fire extinguisher. He was so happy that his Houston Colt .45’s won the Super Bowl, that he expectorated them while giving commentary on the winning TD.”

“Bud, there IS no more teams with that moniker, let alone win the Super Bowl!!!!!!!!!”

“Whatever. Anyway, we kept feeding him McD’s Breakfast Burritos until we got him to the Milford Rehab Center to regain his strength, after we re-inserted them, of course.”

“Does the Rehab Center keep Dentu-Creme on hand?????!!!!!!!! That might cement them into place!!!!!!!! AND CEMENT YOUR JOB!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Never thought of it that way.”

Thanks to Dale Smith and Dustin Figg of Valley Station, Kentucky for the last idea. You guys get the shaft many times but your presence is never taken for granted with me. Despite your visual impairment, you keep America moving. Both of you have overcome  a lot to achieve the American Dream. I salute you both.

 

Again from “Tormato”

The tale of all this inanity

Will go down in infamy

Onward, plot’s got blight

Onward, a bad flight

Onward, with no fight

Onnnnnwwwward, out of sight

of my minnnnnnddddddd

 

What is this exchange with Kaz and Joe in P2 and P3????????? Joe looks like he’s in a job interview. Essentially, when you think about it, it pretty much is but even then job interviews, last time I checked, take about a 1/2 hour-1 hour if you’re applying at McDonald’s, Burger King, Chick-Fil-A, The Bucket (making sure you’re paying attention), KFC, etc. This one’s been 2 months running. What do we have to do a background check on NOW???? Joe’s punting average in Pop Warner League Football? To see if NFL scouts are still interested? Joe’s favorite yogurt flavor at The Bucket (Bucket Peach Pit Delight, BTW) ? Get him on the damn team and let’s get ready for the next game which by my calculations is TOMORROW.

“So when can you start?”

“How long will this plot last.?”

“Are you willing to work overtime?”

 

 

 

Kudos to Matthew Maloney of Fern Creek, Kentucky. You go to work at Kroger ready for action and thereby keep the customer well-stocked with the groceries the customer needs. You have been working there for years, rarely missing a day and ALWAYS being on time. Gang, I think he likes his job. We need more people like him because he makes America great. Next time you come to Fern Creek Kroger (just north of I-265) , say hello to Matthew and treat him with respect. He’s earned mine and I bet he’ll earn yours too.

 

At Milford Towne House Condominiums in the green area

“Okay, Keri, you’ve had your turn. Now let Jamie ride the zebra for awhile.”

 

Updated copy of “Home on the Range”

“Oh, give me a home/Where the buffalo roam

And they snore in Milford Penthouse tonight

Where seldom is heard/A gray buzzard’s word

Its owner got a writ in Milford Heights

 

Home, Home on the Range

That concept has lately gone strange

Where apes and baboons

Share a posh time-share room

And they Google New York Stock Exchange

 

 

“Johnny Olson, I’ll bet you have another member of the studio audience who would love to kick the night away with John Travolta, don’t you think so, people?”

WE BET HE DOES JOE HE HAD HIS CUE CARD IN HIS CRACK READY TO ROCK ‘N’ ROLL

“Well, they were right but I wiped before I crammed it in there but George Snerdley, COME ON DOWN you’re the next contestant about to learn Joe’s secrets.”

Snerdley comes on down, running over a Pinkerton on his smoke break plus a couple of octagenarians in their wheelchairs. His gut is one great big Jello-in-motion running down the Colosseum steps, eager to learn before the Super Bowl comes to Mudlark Stadium in 2023.

“Awwwwwright. So Joe, where you from?”

“Right here in Milford.”

“Awwwwwwwwwrrrrriggghtttt, I’ll bet he’ll be easy to teach how to kick one straight through the chute, these Mudlarks get it right the first time, whattya think, audience?”

WE THINK CAROL MERRILL WILL BE BUSY RETRIEVING BALLS OUT OF THE NET, JOE

“I thought so too, people. So George, tell us a little about yourself.”

“Well, I’m married, there’s my wife in the 27th row, the one with the “Gil on his Motorbike” tattoo on her left boob (YAAAAAAAAAAAAYYYYYYYY) , I have two children, both grown, one was not able to be here today, in fact, he’s in the cell block next door to Mr. Bader, but the other one’s an engineer for Dow Chemical right here in Milford. And I travel, I’m a salesman for Milford International Tire Company. We sell industrial tires to many companies in many companies. We do a heckuva lot of business overseas.”

“REALLY!!! Where are you going this week?”

“Oh, they’re setting up a coal mining operation in Lichtenstein. I’m supposed to be at the Grand Opening of Vaduz Black Beauty Mine #23 next week. A couplke of C-130’s and we’ll keep their coal trucks happy” proudly grabbing his crotch with glee.

Joe, shooting a 1/100,000 second dirty look at Camera #3 for the unplanned obtrusive Crotch Shot, continues

“Wellllll, people, he’s a busy man, isn’t he?”

SOUNDS LIKE HE PUMPS MONEY INTO THE GNP OF BOTSWANA AND SURINAM, JOE!!!!!!!!

“He sure does. All right, I noticed you brought your brother along.”

“This is Mel.”

“Mel, how long have you had that one tooth inb your mpouth?”

“Ever since I got in a brawl at the Milford Lounge 10 years ago. Told Jerry Pulver he was a selfish egotistical piece of slime who hogged the ball just to set a scoring record. The rest of the team should have just sat down and watched. He didn’t take a liking to it and the next thing you know, several people got arrested but I decked him pretty hard and got out of Milford Prison Camp after only two months on good behavior.”

“Ooooooooookkkkkk, hopefully, the same thing’ll never happen at The Bucket. So now, are you going to be George’s holder?”

“Sure am.”

Joe throws out a few phony chuckles that the audience can tell is fake since Joe was reading from the wrong cue card. The real cue card got mixed up with Johnny Olson”s Next Contestant index card

“Well, it was either that or Carol Merrill and somebody’s gotta go get ’em unless you wanna catch ’em with your tooth.”

GO FOR IT MEL

“Whoaaaaaaa, audience, he’ll puncture the balls and he might get headaches from all the banging around.”

TAKE A GOODY’S POWDER MEL

“WAIT A MINUTE, isn’t that Mel Tillis’ line on The Ralph Emery Show?”

WHOOPS GOOD POINT JOE

“Thank you, studio audience. Thought I was losing my mind” as the plastic laughter from the studio audience and the canned laughter are Synchronized Swimming in motion. Gold Medal if I ever saw one.

“ALL RIGHT George and Mel, ARE YOU READY FOR SOME FOOTBALL…”

 

If ya fail at kicking a pigskin after ya’ve tried 1,574,785 times and ya just say the Hell with it and ya go down to Milford Sportsman’s Club and use it as a clay pigeon, ya might be a redneck.

 

O.J. on the “Milford Community Comment” show

“Man, I fed that dude some Cheerios and next hting you know, he literally shoots through the roof.”

 

 

“Well, you almost made it. Sorry, Johnny Olson, we didn’t mean to spill your coffee on your P.A. system. Now, remember, George, look it all the way in…”

 

Marty, jamming to “On The Silent Wings Of Freedom” by Yes over the speakers on the Milford Transit Authority mini-bus, much to Gertrude DeWindt’s annoyance who is riding up front, nearly T-bones the Mudlar-K-Cola truck crawling out of the Milford Lounge. Gertrude smashes her head into the plastic guard that partitions her from Marty. Plastic shards are everywhere.

“Don’t let bus drivers who let Classic Rock distract them from that Union Pacific barreling down the track. Call The Shark today and get the money you deserve.”

“Marty got his license revoked for two months and I received just compensation for my loss. They even replaced the Rent-a-Boyfriend model and even paid for his funeral expenses. Now, I not only have this in my possession (displaying $546,263,689, x 10^5 check) , but my new boyfriend I got free from Milford Rent-All is even sexier. He could give a few pointers at the Milford Men’s Clinic Symposium. Mudlark Lake Resort here we come, the El Dorado of sex retreats.”

Heard in background, a split-second after testimonial

“Nice job, Mrs. DeWindt. You read the teleprompter perfect.”

“If you’ve been in an accident with a Roadway or an antelope, call 1-FON-THE-JAWS today. One call, that’s all.”

Thanks to Mary Simpson of Jeffersontown, Kentucky who helped me with the comedy idea above. Your Christian faith inspires me and I enjoyed talking to you the other day. Your ideas prove how intelligent you are and I like your getting about and about. You’ve made a difference in people’s lives. I will be praying for you because you’ve made a difference in mine. God bless you.

 

Ooooooooookkkkkkk, you finally got it through the uprights. But I’m not going to make this an easy exit. I’ll give you a Peyton Manning autographed Denver Broncos jersey, Luke Bunkin’s jock strap he wore in the Playdown Final where he made the game-saving tackle, a gold-plated Mudlark-Heather Burns-Signature helmet and mouthpiece that Carol Merrill is now wearing AND $5000 to call off the deal.”

NO!!! NO!!!! DON’T DO IT!!!!!!!!

DO IT!!!!!! LUKE’S SWEAT IS SEXY!!!!!!!!

PEYTON RULES!!!!!!!!!!

HEATHER RULES!!!!!!!!!

PEYTON SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!

HEATHER SUCKS!!!!!!!!!!!!

I LIKE THE WAY CAROL MERRILL MOVES THAT MOUTHPIECE BACK AND FORTH

Last outburst contributed by  Mel Snerdley, amazing what a man can exclaim with one tooth

TAKE THE MONEY!!!!!!!!!!

DOOR #3!!!!!!!!!! DOOR #3!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Vote now in the next 30 minutes and you’ll get Joe’s punting cleats, shoestrings included, all for 29.99. Oh, did we forget to mention that Joe is throwing in the Official 2018 NFL Rule Book ABSOLUTELY FREE!!!!!!!!! But you gotta call within the next few minutes to take of advantage of this ridiculously generous offer that Joe had to send a person in concrete shoes down Mudlark Lake to get approved. Operators are standing by.

Don’t wait. CALL NOW!!!!!”

 

Gang, have at it. I’ll leave you with Yes’s “Rejoice” off of “Tormato.” I humbly hope you’ll agree that this sum things up at this juncture

 

Sitting in a stupid God-knows-where

Hashing out the verbiage, talking like true idiots

Kaz is mired in a patchy fog, I swear

Football plot is killing us, Bolek is a minion

 

And we’re not even Close To The Edge

 

Hey Guys

Bye Bye

Till tomorrow

 

See ya

Be the

Lack of sorrow

 

Killing us with silly politics and lunacy

Challenging our intelligence

My o My

It’s no wonder why they can’t win a game or two

There’s no course for competence

Wiping out our innocence

 

Reject

All the things we’ve seen

Gil should abandon ship

It goes ’round and ’round and ’round and ’round

Until it lifts its bow again

 

Reject

Ditch this plot right now

Cut its throat, and how

It goes ’round and ’round and ’round and ’round and ’round and…

 

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October 4, 2018

“Gil, They Can All Boom It From 50+ Yards, But One of the Seven Chinese Brothers Has Turf Toe.”

Gil Thorp Comic Strip for October 05, 2018

 

 

Seven Chinese Brothers were once asked

If they could punt

Six were sure of foot

Five kicked 50 yards

One was a runt

 

Gang, as you might surmise, this post will have an REM flavor to it. Why not? One of the more influential Rock ‘n’ Roll bands, and then some, they will weigh in today on this plot already on life support. Call it pulling the plug on this vegetable with a little help from my friends.

 

Brace yourself. Gil is starting to get intellectual on us. I should have seen it coming when the other day Kaz and Joe started sounding like the VideoHound. I understand Leonard Maltin will be giving the pregame speech the next game.

“You guys could do better in the plot but I liked the cinematography. Those poplars on top of a rosebush we see in the background at Mudlark Stadium save the film from a total disaster and the script, though I’ve seen better in Godzilla vs. The Mudlark, peters out and gives us a ray of hope should there be a sequel. Now kick New Thayer’s ass, Gentlemen.”

“LET’S DO IT!!!!!!!!!!!! YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

And sure, not all coaches are dumb jocks, having been involved as a high school booster/coach, but  Coach Kaz looking like he just read out of Fodor’s French in 10 Days is REALLY stretching it. Next thing you know, he’ll be utilizing all the French words we use in English anyway just to display to the world that there’s a Harvard side to him.

“Gil, voulez-vous coucher avec moi, ce soir?”

“No, Kaz, I can’t go with you to the cafeteria for breakfast. My doctor told me to cut back on the bacon/egg soufflé and grits. No Cream of Wheat either.”

So the next time you see graffiti in stall #3 in the boys bathroom and it reads “Madame Pearl est plein de le merde”, it won’t require Miss Marple to find out who the culprit is.

 

Situation clearly sucks

doo dee doo dee doo dee doo dee doo

Pistons in combustion chamber stuck

doo dee doo dee doo dee doo dee doo

Gil would sport much better luck

doo dee doo dee doo dee doo dee doo

In his bathtub coaching his rubber duck

doo dee doo dee doo dee doo dee doo

Ohhhhhh, wish we were on our way

la da da da DA DA

Basketball next day

la da da da DA DA

We can only plead and pray

 

Ages of Gil

Ages of Gil

Ages of Gil

Yeah

 

And JUST WHEN Gil and Kaz go Einstein on us, P2 confirms it was a false sense of security.

POP QUIZ TODAY???????

Isn’t pop ANYTHING meant to convey a sense of surprise with the intention of compelling your underlings to cough up information that you should have been studying the night before instead of going to the Milford Bijou to watch “The Return of the Brady Bunch: Mr. Brady Transfers to Milford Toyota As A Corporate Lawyer”? And speaking of the Brady Bunch, isn’t that Mr. Price, y’know, old-timers, the one Peter Brady was snowing because he was so focused on working on the school newspaper that he forgot to memorize all the capitals of Latin America and South America? He still might have passed if he’d taken more time spelling “Tegucicalpa” correctly. Spell-checker might have helped, Peter.

“Peter Brady, you still might have saved your grade but Tijuana is not the capital of Honduras.”

“My bad, Mr. Price.”

“I’ll give you half credit for remembering that Bolivia has two capitals, La Paz and Sucre if you’ll try to remember that America did not sign over the Panama Canal to Aramco.”

“Gee, thanks, Mr. Price. Your wife looked good in that bikini at Mudlark Lake Resort last weekend. She’s fit and trim at 87 years old.”

 

Shout-out to Kathlynn Turner of Jeffersontown, Kentucky. I LOVED your sharing how your family members, Bill Davis and Levi Beauchamp, were truck drivers for several years and worked countless and thankless hours at their jobs so we could get the goods we wanted ASAP. They certainly kept the flow going for the finer things in life. Gang, they kept America moving. They are the unsung heroes that keep our economy STRONG. Without them, we wait DAYS for our favorite items to come, as in the past, Colonial or Cowboy period, take your pick. I salute you, Levi and Bill. You too, Kathlynn.

 

Gang, whaddup wit this quid pro quo stuff?

“Okay, Joe, then it’s settled. You can have my entire DVD collection of ‘Planet of the Apes’ including ‘The Battle of Armageddon Decimates Milford on the Planet of the Apes’ if you’ll kick for us.”

“Throw in Coach Thorp’s ‘Them!!!!!’, ‘Tarantula’, and ‘The Blob Swallows Milford’, and I’ll call it deal.”

” ‘fraid not. Coach says that was his collector’s items when he first started the strip and they’ve been in the heirloom for ages. His grandma watched them on her old Victrola.”

“How ’bout REM’s “The Footballs of Guatemala” to sweeten the pot?””

 

Milford & Oakwood train whistle introducing next song, accompanied by strtident guitar lick on Marty’s ukulele, just imagine the possibilities, Marty and Peter Buck in a guitar duel

 

Windout

Can you kick a ball

Windout

Does Kaz care at all

Windout

Should we return Gil’s call

Windout

Will you play this Fall

 

Punt Punt Punt Punt

Punt Punt Punt Punt

Punt Punt Punt Punt

Punt Punt Punt Punt

(Great guitar licks, Peter Buck, way to apply the pressure with your strings)

 

Oh, Mister Bolek

 

Should we doubt

That you’re done with film

Windout

That you’ll take the helm

Windout

The team won’t go to Hell

Windout

The strip stays put as well

 

Windout

Windout

Windout

WINDOUT

Punt Punt Punt Punt

 

I was tempted to call this plot “Dead Letter Office”. Nah, no sense in disgracing the group with a plot in a coma. Anyway

I’M GETTING TIRED OF THIS PLOT IN A CIRCUS TENT…Uncle Gil

Okay, Gil looks nowhere near like Uncle Ben, I can’t even imagine him on the rice box, it’s literally black and white,  but I’m taking poetic license here.

 

If ya think Fodor’s French in 10 Days is shoveling cow manure with mustard on the Streets of Milford within the same period of time and ya follow through by gettin’ shovel, pick-ax, trowel, cement mixer, and backhoe at Milford Rent-All, ya might be a redneck.

 

 

“No, Coach, I didn’t see the movie. I was getting back in shape. How’d it wind out?”

“You should have seen it!!!! A deaf, dumb, and blind kid kicks the pigskin straight through the wickets and the team wins the State. Then he dies of suffocation in the dog pile.”

 

WHO SHOT COACH SHAW?

At the Milford Police Station

“Ugly rumor that it was Joe Bolek”

“Negative. He was seen by several eyewitnesses sneaking into Milford Adult Theater on Classic Porn Night to watch ‘Deep Throat’.”

 

Seven Chinese Brothers donning their helmets and shoulder pads

Waiting for their time to play, this is awfully, truly sad

3rd and 18 on the Mudlark 25, doubt they’ll get their chance

Stay warm in the meantime, executing the cha-cha dance

 

Seven Chinese Brothers wallowing on the sideline

Gil and Kaz lacking clear direction or ANY guideline

Please get a clue

Please get a clue

 

And as long as I’m going to beat this one in the ground, Coach Kaz trying to imitate Gerard Depardieu(“Man, Kaz, you’ve got talent. I also liked your Donald Duck, James Brown, Homer Simpson, Slim Pickens, and Bozo imitations. You ought to audition at Milford Girls-a-Go-Go Club on Talent Night”), c’est la vie(French for “Gil prefers Charmin instead of Brawny when he’s situated in the Port-o-Let”) reminds me of my favorite group, Emerson, Lake, & Palmer who did a song with that title, off the album “Works”, a slightly ambitious production that got better with age, released back in 1977. But this is taking a turn for the worse.

“I’ll trade you my ‘Pictures at an Exhibition’, ‘Tarkus’, and ‘Emerson, Lake, & Palmer: Live at the Milford VFW Lodge’, and my collection of Greg Maddux cards if you’ll kick for the team and give me ‘Remember The Titans.’ I wanna see if Denzel Washington can teach me anything new.”

“Throw in that video of Keith Emerson spinning ’round and ’round on his organ while playing ‘Fanfare for the Common Man’ and a bunch of drunk navy veterans throwing Sterling cans at him in the VFW Lodge ball room, and I’m good.”

“Deal.”

 

Oooooooooooookkkkkkkkk, gang, to commemorate the TV clips you see get lopped off at the Milford Shell after you’re finished pumping your gas

 

“And Milford is gonna kick it. This is for the win. DeWindt, the holder, the Seven Chinese Brothers will be kicking against the wind, here’s the snap, THE KICK——-“

THANK YOU!!!!!!! CLERK HAS RECEIPT

 

“Peter, why are you late?”

“Sorry, Mr. Price, I went to the Milford Men’s Clinic for Teenagers and I OD’d a little on the stuff. I had a little bit of a hard time putting on my Levi’s. I was thinking about your wife and how much fun I was having mentally undressing her and that just added fuel to the fire. Her boobs really looked nice while jumping off the diving board.”

“Well, I must admit, your snow jobs are creative.”

“Thank you. She’s probably somebody’s baby tonight. And it was a toss-up between her and Bo Derek.

 

Gang, it’s your turn. I’m going to the travel agency and get “Fodor’s Milford on $10 a Day”

 

Seven Chinese Brothers shooting dice until it’s time

Finding out in vain that Gil’s acumen weighs but a dime

They almost went in, 3rd and 10 to kick the winning goal

Play was called back, refs blew foul, receiver flagged for a hold

 

Seven Chinese Brothers wallowing on the bench

Seven Chinese Brothers had enough of this stench

Please let ’em play

Please let ’em play

 

September 25, 2018

And Gil Screams Eiffel Tower High

092518

Awwwwwwwwww. Gil is in utter disbelief as his team is virtually getting railroaded. No doubt the Oakwood coach did call a time out but us Thorpiverse veterans are used to not holding our breaths when the Mudlark finishes the Mudlark Marathon run from Athens, Greece (where the Olympics all began) to Milford (well, the plot’s always a marathon, anyway) and beats the rest of the world by 2 days, 29 hours, 34 seconds, 1/456 microseconds, lapping France, Kenya, Sudetenland, Maldives (appaently training techniques suck, such as bad nutrition, i.e., dearth of Special K, Lucky Charms, apples, oranges, limes. uglis, mangos, beets, onions, borscht, prunes, etc.) et al only to find out he was disqualified because he skipped the Strait of Magellan when he was negotiating his way from the Atlantic to the Pacific. We’re resigned to our fate, thankful for the day when every ONCE IN A BLUE MOON they win SOMETHING. Nope, gang, Charlie Brown and his band of merry losers can keep on losing and build eternal character along the way and still keep its readership going. Not so in the world of Thorpiverse. Win SOMETHING, preferably a State Championship (Normally that’s wisely the case) or watch EVERYBODY switch over to Dagwood (technically Blondie).  A Doug Flutie like Miracle Bomb from the Strait of Magellan to the other end zone will have subscribers for life.

“Marino heaves a torpedo from 99 yards for the game TOUCHDOWN MILFORD. There’s an injury time out as the explosion caused mass destruction and the game can’t end on a natural disaster but the Mudlarks will likely win as De Windt, though blown in two, still managed to hang on and keep one foot in bounds!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Plus, everybody else got blown sky high!!!!!!!!!!”

If that doesn’t spike subscription sales, Marty Moon’s an astronaut.

 

And if Gil’s frown doesn’t prove that the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, nothing will. That arc on his visage is the route you would negotiate through the Alps from Milano, Italia to Innsbruck, Osterreich. You forgot the Simplon Tunnel, Thorpiverse, assuming it’s nearby. Or just pick your favorite Deutscher Kaiser or Pope and attach an appelation to it. Make this fun.

Then there’s the fashion statement the referee is making. Time was, a referee might get yelled at by the Milford die-hards but  THE BLACK AND WHITE was wider in the stripes. Now, they got that look that Jordache is after. They’ll be hitting the runway at the modeling show at the Milford Expo Center after the game. At least there they’ll get cheered at.

 

Gang, wouldn’t you JUST ONCE love to see Coach Thorp do a tarantella when he gets waxed like he’s getting in P1? Granted, throwing a chair out on the field might not travel far in the natural grass and the field has bigger dimensions than a basketball court. But the worst I have seen from Coach Thorp the last 60 years are some Egyptian symbols (planet, ibis, North Star, pound sign, pyramid, etc.) out of some Sphinx somewhere along the Nile but I personally would like to see more animation and violent tempers and it starts with P1 in today’s strip. C’mon, Gil, you can do better than that. Scream so that Bulgaria can hear you, yell if the refs got their license out of a Trix box, say something about their mothers, they all have one, throw a helmet or a shoulder pad or a jock strap out on the field, ANYTHING to get ejected. Okay, Unsportsmanlike Conduct for throwing some player’s smelly piece of apparel is breaking precedent but the punting team has botched the snap several times, the referees are killing you and all you can manage is a Smiley face going the wrong way?  I hope the expression isn’t permanently welded. That might cause problems when you, Mimi and family do a family portrait at Milford Studios.

I do gotta admire the Nerfball sailing through the uprights at the Milford Observatory. The Oreo background makes for great atmosphere.

 

Walking toward the football field

He surely knows where to go

He slaps on his ‘phones

And puts on a show

Feasting on Gil’s fecklessness

And reckless leadership

And that Gil don’t give a shit.

 

He struts into the broadcast booth

He’s been there ever since

He strolls down to concessions

For a box of Junior Mints

Whooooaaaaaaa

Talking ’bout the game at hand

Thrashing Coach Thorp into sand

We’ll shout at Moon and demand

Try to get his attention

Scream at him

And we’ll scream, we’ll scream, we’ll scream

 

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream Marty Eiffel Tower Highhhhhhhhhhh

And we’ll scream MARTY EIFFEL TOWER HIGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

 

I may have missed a verse or two. You might want to check me on that one. Also, thanks to Mimi Thorp for belting out the last verse and proving a suitable replacement for Grant Hart. We know she’s busy with her basketball team. She’ll be even busier this year as the conference upped the schedule by one game. How she finds time to sweat through a five-game schedule and rock with one of the best in the business and still find time for the kids and Gil (well, in bed, anyway) is nothing short of amazing. Scripts have a way of easing up the logjam.

 

If yore face got permanently contorted cuz that shot of Jack came straight from the well outta some corn field somewhar and ya wind up as a Witch Doctor Exhibit at the Milford Museum, ya might be a redneck.

“And Coach T’s inept coaching strikes again. That pouty gargoyle mien won’t save his ass this time. We’ll be back to wrap things up in a moment. The final score, Oakwood, 31, Milford, 28. You’re listening to WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

Coach Shaw is reading The Saturday Evening Post. He’s doing the “Where Do You Think You Are?” section. It’s all the Milfords in all the different states and he’s already figured out Milford, Delaware, Milford, Connecticut, Milford, Pennsylvania, and Milford Indiana, but can’t figure the state Milford, as in Mudlarks, comes from. (“It’s only 5 kilometers to Oakwood?”) While he’s wrestling with an Angel on this one

“Hi, Honey, I have a surprise!!!!!!!!”

“Wow, DO YOU EVER!!!!!!! I’m trying to solve this knotty problem. How many ‘k’s in ‘Mudlarkia’?”

“Darling, how can you indulge in one of Benjamin Franklin’s pastimes at a time like this when I have something in my possession that will alter your life?”

“You finally bought them mag wheels for my Dodge Durango? Wow, I’ll be the envy of my hunting buddies. Them raccoons will get their rings knocked off from all that glitter.”

“Nooooooooooooo.”

“Did my mail-order sawed off Winchester arrive today?”

“Nooooooooooooo.”

“Daggone it, I need to call the Milford FedEx office. It was shipped Tuesday. It’s already Friday. Looks like I get free shipping on my gun anyway.”

“I have something else that’s free.”

“Honey, you know they don’t run specials on deer tags. That’ll be the day.”

“Nope. Time’s up. Ta-daaaaaaaaaaa”

Shaw’s wife pops in the living room in a black bikini.

Shaw drops the Saturday Evening Post in the magazine rack between Field and Stream and Milford Outdoors Today

“Gloopy glop, um, I think I’ll head down to the Milford Public Library. I bet they’d know about Mudlarkia.”

“Uh, It’s Saturday and it’s 6:00PM and I think they’re closed.”

“Blippy bloop. That’s what you think (Coach Shaw recovering as fast as his brain can process the information) . I heard they were having a bake sale and handing out free cupcakes if you can read 500 Louis L’Amours in an hour. Shoot, the way he uses guns and kills off the bad guy in the end, it’s the same old same old. No Martin Charley Horse or whatever the name Dickens called him to contend with, let alone get on his hands and knees down at the Milford Shelter House beggin’ Oliver Twist for oatmeal and onion rings. Nope, bang, bang, take that you slimeball bank robber, you cain’t run off from Fort Knox with 500 tons of gold in your Conestoga Wagon. Louis’ll shoot you dead if ya don’t watch out. Them cupcakes is as good as in my belly.”

“The library has that many books on one person?”

“Oh, Hell, yeah. Then some lucky winner, if he/she can guess the State Flower, the State Motto, the State Flag, and the Admission Date of Mudlarkia will win a whole chocolate cake. I might have trouble with the last one since I don’t remember when the Carpetbaggers entered into our state but I’m pretty sure it was before the Gettysburg Address but just after the Wilmot Proviso.”

“Dear, why don’t we skip the history lesson and make our own history. We’ll do the 21-gun salute.”

“Because we might have run out of ammo?”

His wife caught off guard for the moment, Coach Shaw gets back on the offensive

“And if we read ‘The Positronic Man’ by Asimov before midnight, we get a $50 Gift Card to Milford Donut Solutions. I can taste those custard-filled chocolate long johns mow. Umm, umm.”

“I’ve never known you to read Science Fiction.”

“I read Clifford Simak and Ray Bradbury right before Game Film sessions. I can break down an opponent’s defense right after devouring ‘Fahrenheit 451’. AND the coop de grass is the drawing for the 2018 Chevy Blazer 4-Wheel Drive. It drivews through snow, salt water, sleet, ice, lichens, earthquake faults, Bavarian Alps, gneiss, permafrost, polar ice caps-“

“Polar ice caps? We’re nowhere near the North or South Pole. We’re in the State of Mudlarkia, remember? We’re practically across the Atlantic for the Bahamas, silly.”

“Blubby, blubby, there’s some snow that never melted at the Milford Wildlife area that the caribou dumped a load on and preserved for several months. If you’re not careful, you could drive your Blazer into the swamp and get eaten by crocodiles.”

“Caribou and crocs in the same refuge?”

“And all I have to do to be eligible for the drawing is read ‘Last of the Mohicans’ in Chinese before the cock crows twice.”

“Honey, you don’t KNOW any Chinese.”

“That’s what YOU think. I have this IBM Word Processor that can translate faster than you can say Rosenthal’s Methods for German. And it’s even been broken down into Cantonese, Mandarin, and Shikoku, in case the judges try to pull a fast one.”

“Isn’t the last one Japanese?”

Ignoring last slight, clinging desperately to his sexual barrenness

“And don’t you need batteries for the translator?”

One last stab

“Hell, I’ll get ’em down at Milford Electronics. It says right here, now where’d it go, ah, here it is, right under one of the electrodes ‘can…’, damn this Vietnamese can be a pain to read, only someone from the Gnomemobile can read it, ‘…only…be…special-…orderdered…send…SASE…'”

Coach Shaw looks up.

His wife is smiling in victory.

 

“It’s like Louis being surrounded by Black Bart and his gang without any bullets in his gun. You can’t have a happy ending in his novels if the supply office at Fort Leavenworth or Fort Cheyenne failed to order the right guns and ammo in time. We might still be using tomahawks. But at the Milford Men’s Clinic, you can shoot straight without any fear of the Dalton Gang spoiling your wedding. You can get married, get it on in bed that night, free from anyone crashing the party. With treatment programs that work, isn’t it time your wim-wim got the proper medicine and stood and be counted so that Louis can get that 1,345,586th novel he’s been working on? Don’t let Louis go the way of John Wilkes Booth and let him fight his way out of the barn. You’ll be glad you did.”

Gang, have at it. I don’t know which Art Deco bus I’m riding in, but I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.

 

In Gil’s Living Room Decor

“Kaz, Shaw was listening to ‘Saturday Night Fever’ over the speakers, wasn’t he?”

“How’d you know, Gil?”

“There’s toilet paper forming a 540 degree angle from the shower stall to the film screen.”

August 30, 2018

Tradition!

gt08302018

Who, on the links, must scramble for the Juniors,
And who just plays golf, no soccer anymore,
To shave their final score a stroke?
The golfers, teen golfers! Tradition!
Not Tony, but Wilson! Concussion!
Who must know the way to play a proper game,
An honest game, a kosher game?
Start a phony tournament and leave the house,
So Mimi’s free to drink the holy grape?
Gil Thorp does, Gil Thorp does! Tradition!
Gil Thorp does, Gil Thorp does! Tradition!
Let’s watch the Valley tournament. They’ve rented a nice tent.
I hear they’ve got some nice trophies. I hope they’re pretty.
Ho-hum, ho-hum! Tradition!
Ho-hum, ho-hum! Tradition!
And who learns how to cheat, learns how to lie and fix,
At Pine Ridge and at Blackthorne? Geez, what a bunch of pricks!
The cheaters, the cheaters! Tradition!
The cheaters, golf cheaters! Tradition!
(apologies Bock and Harnick)
*****
Alright, enough of that.  Skeeters must be biting hard in Milford or else Gil’s pantomiming how much of a pain in the neck he’s become.
I’m truly confused about a few things:  (1) If scorers are tradition! at the Valley Juniors, why aren’t they also at the qualifiers?  (b) How does dude know about the Pine Ridge Boys’ thievery except as hearsay? (iii) Why does dude give a rat’s hinder about what Gil does at his Participation Trophy Invitational?
Gil has to realize he’s not the big man at the Valley Juniors, both figuratively and literally. Just look at that gargantuan couple to his left!
metapost: I’m having trouble with the spacing here today.  Not sure why but then again I’ve never bothered to figure out how to adjust the spacing on WordPress posts. Mea culpa.

July 21, 2018

We’re From Milford, We’re from Milford…

gt07212018
… No one likes us
We don’t care
We’re from Milford
F***in’ Milford
No one likes us
We don’t care

I am Bader
Barry Bader
No one likes me
I don’t care
I am Barry
F***in’ Bader
No one likes me
I don’t care

It’s my dad’s fault
It’s not my fault
It’s my dad’s fault
I don’t care
Didn’t know that
Until last week
It’s my dad’s fault
I don’t care

Where was my mom?
Where was my mom?
For the last year
Did she care?
Did she stand up
To my father?
It’s not my fault
I don’t care

I’m Pelwecki
Kev Pelwecki
I hit homers
No one cares
I’ll beat Shankey’s
F***in’ record
You mean Sharkey?
I don’t care

I am Dafne
On a mission
Get in J-school
I don’t care
I’ll expose my
F***in’ classmates
They don’t like me
I don’t care

I am Ms. Rizk
I will take risks
Name’s ironic?
I don’t care
I just care ’bout
F***in’ Trumpet
I will take risks
I don’t care

I’m Kazinski
Bob Kazinski
I don’t coach much
I don’t care
Hair like Venus
Grab that penis
Off the basepath
I don’t care

I am Gil Thorp
Head Coach Gil Thorp
We’re still playing?
I don’t care
Trust the Process?
There’s no process!
When’s my tee time?
I don’t care

 

July 14, 2018

I Apologize, Betty Crocker was all out of trapezoid brownies.

071418

Wait, wait, wait. Before we go ANY further, weren’t Aunt Bea and Opie going to fellowship over brownies? At least, the last time Daffy Duck went to Yalta to report on Stalin’s and Churchill’s bitches and gripes for the Milford Enquirer, that’s what people munched on. And if Ma Bader is on her hands and knees trying to get Daffy to change Barry from Goofus to Gallant, well, BROWNIES WORKED THE LAST TIME. WHY SWITCH TO CHIPS AHOY?????????? I admit in Mayberry, the more conventional culinary wisdom when catching up on the latest gossip would have been milk and cookies but brownies was an adequate substitute. But those look like COOKIES to me on the coffee table, being washed down by a Bucket Triple Chocolate Shake. The Uber driver arrived well before The Summit (“WE have 1 more coming, does the Uber driver have another T-Choc Shake in the fridge in his trunk?”).

 

Steve Luhm, writing off Milford High School Janitorial Science Department stationery

“Ms. Rizk, I love everything about you. Your Granny dreadlocks get me erect and you have eyes like frying pans smeared in Pam.”

A week later

“Hey, I dig your letter but didn’t Fred tell Wilma that she had frying pan eyes? I think that was the episode where Fred and Barney took Dino to the Bedrock Veterinary Clinic to get medicine for Dino’s tapeworms. I was 79 years old then so my memory’s slipping. I watched that episode on the ‘M’ Computer during my planning period.”

 

Watching Barry in negotiations with Daffy is comical. ” I really DID see Elvis and now you’re making me a liar. He and OJ and me went down to The Bucket to see if I had any chance at pro ball since I’m the star of the team. As long as Moose is going to swing his weight around, I might as well do some swinging myself. And you write like I was still in T-Ball”.

Richard, you did a lot for the country, you normalized relations with China and Russia, the economy did well under your leadership, for a Republican, you were very environment-friendly, BUT YOU’RE STILL A CROOK.

 

And gang, I promised you That Daffy’s day in court was coming. The Day of Reckoning is today. Sung to the tune “Good-Lookin’ Woman” by Norman Greenbaum, awayyyyyyyyy we go

 

You’re a sleaze-talkin’ woman, oh yeah

You spew venom out of your womb, oh, oh, yeah

There’s no mercy when you write

All of Milford goes running

They don’t want to get slammed and slimed

Time after time

They’d rather be napalmed

 

It’s gonna take manners to keep you around, Baby

Nothing like manners to keep you on the ground, Baby

You wonder why they hate you

Babe, it’s no-brainer

You are a viper

We need a restrainer

On a sleaze-talkin’ woman

Sleaze-talkin’ woman

Sleaze-talkin woman

Sleaze-talkin’ woman like you

 

You did a hose job on Pa and Barry, oh yeah

Reese’s Bits ‘n’ Pieces, that’s what’s scary, oh, oh, yeah

You could be Society’s Child

If you live like a human

I’m not holding my breath on that

The chances are fat

And baboons act better

 

It’s gonna take manners to keep you around, Baby

You behave like a tick-ridden, smelly bloodhound, Baby

You worry ’bout the future

Babe, you could end it

Use manners like money

Be willing to spend it

On a sleaze-talkin’ woman

Sleaze-talkin’ woman

Sleaze-talkin woman

Sleaze-talkin’ woman like you

 

Thank you for your patience, gang. You guys did a great scouring on Daffy. Just finishing the job.

 

Don Drysdale comes to Milford

 

While Don is throwing grapefruits to Moose during batting practice

“Don, I understand you played a little ball.”

“That’s right, Gil. Played for the Dodgers for years.”

“And do you have any advice for Moose here?”

While Moose is whackin’ ’em to the top of OJ’s townhouse across the field

“Sure. It’s not an easy road, son. You gotta pay your dues. Long bus rides. Greasy spoon restaurants. And I roomed with Tommy Lasorda while we were playing for Albuquerque. God, the shit he left in the shower when we were getting ready to go. One day, I asked Tommy after he used the Motel 6 towel to wipe his ass, My Man, the maid does supply toilet paper in the stall. Then he used 2 rolls every time he took a shit. I got left with 1/2 a paper towel, that gritty stuff you clean your butt with in the Milford boys bathroom. On the mound, it’s HELL pitching against the Reds and the sandpaper itch creeps up your butthole. Son, take my word for it, it’s a long ride.”

Don leaves to go down to Milford Sporting Goods to sign autographs and endorse his latest book “Life’s Lesson’s I Learned in Milford”

“Well, Moose, did you learn anything?”

Trying to pry one batting doughnut off because it’s not heavy enough to help improve his bat speed

“Sure, next time, make sure you bring 2 Charmin Rose-Scented 2-Ply 12-Roll Paks and stash ’em under the bed.”

 

“Oh, but Daffy, my Barry really is a good boy. Just because he stares at the mirror doesn’t make him a bad boy. He may be deaf, dumb and a jerk but he’s not Bart Simpson.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“OJ Filing Suit After Baseball Lands In His Aquarium!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Proceedings Will Not Take Place Until October; Judge Ito Is On Sabbatical.”

 

“Mr. Chambers. Mr. Chambers. It is the meal time. Kindly state your preference.”

“Oh, all right. I want a Triple Bucket Burger, hold the mayo, extra pickles, extra cheese, and X-large order of Chili Bucket Fries, and a Dutch Chocolate Bucket o’ Shake.”

“Small, medium, or large?”

“Aaaaaa, I’ll take large.”

“My, my, Mr. Chambers”, the lighted tube speaking briskly and efficiently, “You are going to be a 3-course meal by the end of September.”

“I thought you Kanamits have no sense of time.”

“We always know when it’s a certain time of the year. The plot finally ceases and that’s when we make our move to earth to get more condiments, er, people. The population of Milford is high on our list. They are haute cuisine of the human race.”

“BTW, how’d you manage to bring another Bucket up here?”

“We had a little trouble at the 5th Galaxy but after that, the legal deeds, property taxes, easement issues, parcel outlots, legal fees, environmental concerns, economic impact studies were simply a matter of time.”

 

A one Michael Chambers is left to ponder in amazement the denouement of The Bucket in the world of the Kanamits while his existence is on life support. Many careers fade, sadly to say, into a pot of boiling stew and while you’re commenting away on today’s strip, this story exemplifies that Man is a star about to nova in a world we call…The Twilight Zone

July 10, 2018

Eyesight for the Belligerent

Filed under: huge earrings, Milford Idiots, song parody, What the hell is going on here? — tdrewhardin @ 1:08 pm

071018

Captain Gilbert didn’t come home

His unborn child will never know him

He’s believed to be missing with a couple of men

They planted 8 bombs inside the gymmmmmmm

 

It’s a boy, Mrs. Gilbert

It’s a boy

 

It’s a boy, Mrs. Gilbert

It’s a boy

 

Hear the joyful celebration in the street

It’s a boy the day we won the Final Heat

 

And gang, I think you know where I’m going with this. After watching “Barry: The Musical” and still thinking Daffy is still Queen of Sleaze, what was Barry expecting? To clear his name up IN THE MILFORD ENQUIRER?????? No, Daffy, I did not get on that UFO with Elvis. I was down at the Milford Moose Lodge with The King seeing if he could revive his career at the Annual Chili Cook-Off and Raffle Ticket Night. Man, some lucky cat was going to have the time of his or her life listening to “Don’t Be Cruel”, “Heartbreak Hotel” and “Suspicious Minds” and drive away in a brand new Cadillac, courtesy of Milford Motors. But no, your story killed his career. Thanks for nothing.

Then there’s Ms. Rizk. Aside from going back to the Granny from Beverly Hillbillies look, she’s gone from calling things straight down the middle to being Ebenezer Scrooge. The Baders are asking for mercy after you sent them through the meat grinder? Humbug! Serves them right!!!! I’m going to call the deputy sheriff and foreclose their house anyway. We’re going to turn it into the Milford High School Journalism Annex by the end of the year!!!!!!

I would like to give a shoutout to Heather Sanders in Louisville, Kentucky.  She may be confined to a wheelchair but her humor isn’t. She is VERY funny and keeps me going with her edgy wit and on-point insight. She makes my job easier and I have promised her that I will do EVERYTHING I can to get her in the next movie my dad does (my dad being a part-time actor). Heather, I intend to keep that promise. Right now, you are shining pretty bright because you deserve a moment in the spotlight. Keep the funny bone pipeline going because, well. YOU’RE FUNNY. YOU ROCK, My Friend.

 

Marty: Gotta feeling ’17 is gonna be a good year

Baseball season’s done and we can putt forever

Mimi: I had no reason to be overoptimistic

But with your 3-handicap, it’s a great endeavor

 

Captain Gilbert, smelly gym towel over the left side of his burned face, after a hard-fought overtime victory over Death, sees Marty and Mimi in bed.

Marty wakes up. Grabbing the 2014 trophy off Mimi’s makeup table, he wacks Captain Gilbert on the right side of the face, careful not to ruin the perm Captain Gilbert has sported for 60 years.

Barry, fresh from sneaking a sip of Cherry 7-Up out of the fridge, wiping the top so that nobody’ll get germs, steps in just as his father’s hair morphs into Hendrix from “Band of Gypsies”.

WHAT ABOUT THE BOY

WHAT ABOUT THE BOY

WHAT ABOUT THE BOY

HE SAW IT ALL

 

You didn’t see it

You didn’t hear it

Not a word of it

Not a sight of it

You’re gonna turn into a jerk

WITHOUT ANY PROOF

 

Now he’s deaf

Now he’s dumb

Now he’s a jerk

The guilty are safe

But always accused

By his asshole ways

 

What’s with this Betty Crocker motivational tool? I can see the commercial.

“Yes, what better way to preclude your friend from using a toilet plunger on a person’s reputation than to discuss the matter over buttermilk scones and tea? Mmm, mmm, and those sourdough biscuits buttered with Blue Bonnet on it tastes better than the stuff you have to swallow about your husband, coming from an amateur Ida Tarbell? Mrs. Olson should be coming in anytime and discussing Mr. Olson and Mr. Whipple (apparently they’re squeezing more than Charmin) having an affair with each other. Yes, Daffy, they’re coming out of the closet so have paper and Paper-Mate ready. After you’ve eaten your 10th sourdough, naturally. Set ’em at 350 and the gossip too and forget it. That’s the Betty Crocker way (“Cooking with Pam” theme whistling in the background)!!!!!!!!!!”

 

“Can’t you see the Christmas lights and all the toys that are so wonderfully enlightening

The Nike shoes, the bats, the balls, I swear it gets to be so terribly frightening

And Barry doesn’t know what day it is

He’s such a jerk, he doesn’t know who Jesus is

HOW CAN HE BE SAVED

FROM LOSING SECOND BASE

 

BARRY, CAN YOU HEAR ME??????? as Mimi whacks Barry with a bat.

 

And has anyone seen Ms. Rizk ANYWHERE but the Journalism room? We assume she takes potty breaks. We assume. And we assume she’s typing, or editing the school newspaper. All this time she’s been typing billet-doux’s to Luhm and  he’s cramming them into his locker at night? Anyway, I haven’t seen her down at the Milford Burger King ordering a Double Beef Whopper and unsalted fries. Or at a car show at the Milford Civic Center parking lot. Still glued to the chair along with Chris Elliott’s parents on “Get a Life”, I see. At least she isn’t in her bathrobe.

Gang, I realize Tommy is overshadowing Daffy today. She will have her day in court. Right now, I’m wagering nobody’s going to put up much resistance to the “DIE IF YOU WANT TO, YOU MISGUIDED PUPPET” approach, long-overdue at that, to Barry Bader. I’m wagering. I only make so much in my paycheck, gang, after taxes.

 

Barry, can you hear me?

Can you feel me near you?

Barry, can you see me?

Can I help to cheer you?

Ohhhhhh, Barry, Barry, Barry…

 

He seems to be completely unreceptive

The love I gave him makes no sense at all

Dale Carnegie is not in his demeanor

He pukes at Albert Schweitzer’s love and calllllll

 

SEE ME

FEEL ME

PLAY ME

ADORE ME

 

SEE ME

FEEL ME

LICK ME

WORSHIP ME

 

There is no chance, no untried operation

All hope lies with him and none with me

Imagine though the shock from isolation

When he suddenly owns up to reality.

 

At the Milford Girls-A-Go-Go Club, Mimi Thorp answers the sign out front that says “Taking applications. Must be 18 or older.” Figuring she still has time before the Playdowns start in August(they’re just doing a light workout today anyway plus some bunting drills), she swings the SUV into the place. Just because they play softball on the 4th of July  doesn’t mean they pay time and a half so Mimi is always up for the extra income.

“Next.”

Mimi Thorp follows the secretary to Al DeWindt’s office. He’s the Personnel Manager.

Al peruses the application. He eyes the “Reason for Leaving” section and notices that she left it blank for her employment at Milford Burger King.

“Why did you quit Burger King?”

Mimi really doesn’t know how to lie. So she confesses.

“I was 16 years old at the time and I told the manager I knew how to make a Whopper. I wanted to impress my friends so I had at it. I slapped on Mel Purnell’s Whole Hog Hot ‘n’ Spicy Sausage patties instead of ground beef because I wasn’t paying attention, then I put the wrong pickles on the sandwich, I should have used Vlasic, plus I spread too much Hellman’s, I used a paintbrush instead of a spatula, then the lettuce was too brown and it was wilting like my husband’s wim-wim, and I stuck a slice of Swiss cheese because I swear to God I couldn’t find American even though the manager insisted they were behind the ice machine and when a few customers complained to the-“

“Ooooooooookkkkkkkk,” convinced that her crime has reached the statute of limitations, having 33 more applicants to interview, “Mrs. Thorp, you don’t have any problem showing your tits?”

“I used to tell my girls on the basketball team to give 110% effort, no matter what the scoreboard says. If that’s the job description, I will let it all hang out and dive for loose balls with everything I’ve got. I’ll have a lot of floor burns on me at the end of the night.”

DeWindt writes “very mature” on the check-off list. He adds “could be performing Christmas show with the 2 ex-Rockettes.”

“Are you willing to work overtime? Sometimes the New Thayer Moose Lodge holds their annual convention over at the Milford Ramada and a few of ’em head our way. They can get a little rowdy.”

“No rowdier than that crowd at Tilden. A lot of people were throwing coins, chewing gum, program ads, and candy bar wrappers at our girls but when we beat them in triple overtime, we got our revenge. Plus, Gil is hiring on as a bouncer so I don’t foresee any problems.”

“You do know we’re Union? Milford AFL-CIO Local 808? You have a problem with that?”

“I don’t see why I would. Unions have a Right to Peaceful Assembly according to The Constitution. I don’t mind gettin’ it on next to the Union steward on stage. We will show our boobs as a sign of solidarity.”

DeWindt writes down “Could be possible problem at the bargaining table but not a rabble-rouser”.

“Mrs. Thorp, we’ll start you out at $11.00/hour and give you a 50 cent raise after 30 days. The $500 signing bonus will be broken down into $250 apiece with the 1st installment paid out after 60 days and the remainder paid out after your probationary status ends after 90 days.”

“Are taxes taken out?”

“Yup, Uncle Sam gouges even us strip joints. BTW, can you fit into 9-foot boots, staple jewelry on your boobs and shake that thang? We do ‘Pinball Wizard’ every weekend and the last dancer injured her tits when she accidentally grazed them on a strobe light on the ceiling.”

“SURE”, trying to be an eager beaver. Do everything they tell you. That’s how you move up the corporate ladder. “I have some 9-foot heels I wore at my high school prom. I’m pretty sure they’re out in the garage.”

“Super!!!!!” as DeWindt is trying to hide his curiosity where she got 9-foot heels, let alone why she wore them.

“Well, that’s all the questions I have for now. I will learn everything there is to know about the company.”

“You got the right attitude. All right, be here tomorrow morning in the Training Room at 7:00AM sharp with your photo ID for your name badge and your Social Security Card. Also, bring a red pen so that you can learn how to fill out time sheets. We do EVERYTHING in red.”

 

BARRY CAN YOU HEAR ME

CAN I HELP TO CHEER YOU

BARRY CAN YOU HEAR ME

CAN YOU SEE ME NEAR YOU

OOOOOO, BARRY, BARRY, BARRY as Barry is escorted by Gil the Bouncer after the former wandered into the Club, thinking the ball diamond was on the same latitude. A jerk has a tendency to get his horse latitudes confused(with apologies to The Doors).

 

“OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHH, BA-BY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

MY HEART IS FULL OF LOVE AND IT’S ALL FOR YOU

NOW COME ON DOWN AND DO WHAT YA GOT TA DO

 

NO!!!! NO!!!!! DON’T LEAVE ME THIS WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DON’T LEAVE ME THIS WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

NO!!!!!!!!!! DON’T LEAVE ME THIS WAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Doris, can I speak to you for a moment? I want to file a grievance. They’re having the dancers low on the Seniority List doing the Midnight Show.”

 

Daffy runs towards the spaceship set to leave Milford Int’l Airport.

“COACH KAZ!!!!!!!! COACH KAZ!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DON’T GET ON THAT SHIP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT ‘M’ ON THE COMPUTER SCREEN IN THE JOURNALISM ROOM!!!!!!!!! IT MEANS  ‘COOKBOOK’ IN KANAMITESE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And Ms. Rizk reveals herself as one of the Kanamits, deftly handling the stilts and the sleeping gas on Kaz, the same sleeping gas that was used on Batman and Robin, indicating that Part One was about to end (The Joker: “How’d I wind up in the Gotham City Correctional Institute? My gang put enough nerve gas on the Dynamic Duo to bring the Statue of Liberty to its knees.”). Coach Kaz is dragged in the ship and the door is sealed and the vehicle heads 29 light-years into outer space, with a potty break on Deneb and lunch at Stuckey’s on Lyra.

“GODDAMIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! MEAT LOAF AGAIN??????????? THAT’S THE 7TH STRAIGHT DAY I’VE HAD THE STUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! AND DOESN’T ANYBODY KNOW HOW TO DUMP CHEESE INTO KRAFT GARLIC MAC ‘N’ CHEESE?????????????????” as Coach Kaz throws the dinner to the floor in a cubicle roughly equal to the size of Papa Bader’s living quarters.

A 10-foot Kanamit walks in, straight from his game in the 12-foot-and-Under League. picking up dumped merchandise “Coach Kaz, Coach Kaz, PLEASE, there’s no reason for these needless tantrums. We can get the chef to switch to chicken cordon bleu and baked lasagna with tortellini.”

“And can they make Nestea instead of that swill they brew out of the canister in Milford’s cafeteria?

“I don’t see why not.”

“With Nutrasweet?”

“Of course.”

Consider for your speculation a one Coach Kaz, about to be somebody else’s Peanut Buster Parfait at the Kanamit DQ but enjoying The Good Life in his dying days. The parmesan cheese on his steam-fried London broiled steak and vegetables will expunge his fear of being Blizzard Flavor of the Month, Oreo Blizzard, may we add, at the same DQ drive-thru. Tonight’s bill of fare in…The Twilight Zone.

 

Comment away,gang. I’m going to catch the late show at the Go-Go Club. Mimi ought to be entertaining, certainly more than this plot.

 

I’M THE GYPSY

I’M THE ACID QUEEN

I’M GUARANTEED TO MAKE YOUR

BOY A JERK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“Mimi, you really went to town tonight. I liked how your wedding band bounced so lively between your breasts. And all those beads around your neck.”

“Thanks, Gil. So I heard you had to throw out Mr. Dr. Pearl?”

June 26, 2018

Hug Him and Kiss Him and Stab Him and Hurt Him, You Will Be Hisssssss

Filed under: Gil Thorp, song parody — tdrewhardin @ 2:24 pm

062618

HAH!!!!!!!!! Caught you, gang. I slipped that double entendre right past you. Pay attention, classssss (Sister Mary Elephant that time, that didn’t count).

But it’s understandable. This plot DID stink up and fart and we are paying the price in Snoozeland. And I hope NOBODY was surprised that Daffy Duck was going to pull a fast one. She goes through all this trouble on what appeared to be a goodwill mission, gets the proper papers signed in triplicate, got everybody’s approval short of Steve Luhm and that was because he was out of town on vacation, playin’ the slots. The Assistant Floor Buffer signed his John Henry in Luhm’s stead. THEN she had to have gone to the Prison Board and again filed all the proper papers, no doubt having to convince them that she wasn’t up for parole. No, I’m just doing an article for my high school rag, er, newspaper. I’m not sorry for giving my father 40 whacks. Or my mother 41.

THEN, disguised with good intentions but anybody with any sense being able to see that Santa’s beard is made of cotton candy, she’s about to pull a fast one. I can hear the Dick Dastardly laugh now. Hee Hee Hee, if he thought I was going to write about his setting a record for the most license plates while in prison, boy, does he need to renew his subscription to the Milford Enquirer to refresh his memory.

I’m bracing myself to say this. Take that Folgers and 2 tranquilizers, T. Drew. Barry, watch your back side. WHEW!!!!!!!!!!! Gimme another cup, please. Ran out of Folgers? Is that Sanka still boiling in Kaz’s office?

You always wanted a highball

with an olive

And martinis straight from the tap

Now you wound up in prison

You deserve it

How am I going to get through?

How am I going to get through?

I talked for hours

and gave you power

Your paper’s crap

and I’m a sap

So what have I

What have I

What have I done to deserve this?

Since you went away

I’ve been wandering around

From press room to ball ground

Crappin’ the town

You went away

And you need a new razor

How am I going to get through (what have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve this)

How am I going to get through (what have I, etc.)

And Daffy Duck, no. Nobody EVER accused you of being Barry’s pal, not in this century anyway. When George Washington was reading Gil Thorp in the Trenton Times, he never thought for ONE MOMENT that you were Fred and Barney. He had a lot on his mind before he crossed the Delaware but he had peace of mind that you weren’t lovey dovey, let alone buddy-buddy. No, Mr. Howell never wrote to the Letter to the Editor on Gilligan’s Island that his wife was sleeping with The Skipper. Just thought I’d clear that up, Daffy. It’s hard to imagine that Barry will be your Little Buddy after you sharpened your Ginsu knife and gave Papa Bader 42.

If yore request for an outhouse on the prison yard got approved after all the red tape that could stretch from Milford to Oakwood because yore homesick and the poophole is a good replica but not the real thang, ya might be a redneck.

And wasn’t Marcie teaching math several moons back? I can’t remember which plot, not that I care to walk in the manure to yank out the Jewel of the Nile, but Comrade Marcie Dern(read the Cyrillic alphabet on her door, silly) has the keys to Moose’s baseball prowess and Gil is sweating bullets, hoping to get Moose back on the diamond ASAP before the scout from the Mud Hens uses up his 4-days-and-3-nights special at the Milford Motel 6. “Oh, please, Marcie, if he can’t implement the proper launch angle for the Hartford Yard Goats, he’ll be a career sanitation engineer. And I’ve seen him ride one of those trucks with Luhm and he couldn’t ride a truck and chew gum at the same time.

“I think we can give him a break for Home Ec this time with the understanding that he’ll have to take classes to make up for those Betty Crocker recipes he flunked. He really botched coconut creme.  Somebody will have to show him how to practice on the temperature knob on the Amana range.”

You drank like a beaver

late one night

And now you sleep in a 6 x 9

with no lights

Guards don’t read bedtime stories

That just bites

How am I going to get through?

How am I going to get through?

I piss in pots

My brain is snot

I use cologne

For my gallstones

So what have I

What have I

What have I done to deserve this?

Since I went away

I just carved up your back

Didn’t cut you no slack

As a matter of fact

I went awayyyyy

To rip you a new one

How am I going to get through(What have I, what have I, what have I done to deserve this)

How am I going to get through(What have I, wh-)

“GIL!!!!!! GIL!!!!!!!!!! WAKE UP!!!!!!!!! Are you okay?

“Whew!!!!!!! That was a nightmare!!!!!!!!! I dreamed I spent Purgatory eternally in Studio 3 with Marty Moon!!!!!!”

“And this is Marty Moon, reporting from Hell, where I am doing an eternal interview with Coach T. I’m lickin’ my chops that he can’t duck out to his office when I ask him why he didn’t play Josh Sterling in the 4th quarter of the playdowns. He was taking a knee to pray, Coach. And we’ll be right back after this time out. You’re listening live from Hell on WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.

Late one night at Dr. Pearl’s home in the posh neighborhood of Milford Chase(next door to the stately manor of millionaire Bruce Wayne)

“Squiggly-Wiggly, Baby Bumpers, I found my bikini in the attic. You know, the one I wore at the high school dance when The Ventures played at Mudlark Lake.”

Mr. Dr. Pearl is in no mood for discussing intimacy, heavily entrenched in Tolstoy after a long day as a chemical engineer at Milford Dow Chemical. But he does his best to play along.

“Honey, Mudlark Lake was just a pisshole. I don’t remember The Ventures playing at a kiddie swimming pool.”

“Wrong, wrong, wrong, Peachy Plum. The Milford Contracting & Bulldozing Enterprises, Inc. built the lake right about when they hired Coach Thorp, fresh from the Marines. I had him in Strategies for Kickball when I was a freshman and that’s all I talked about was the dance when the lake was about to do its Grand Opening. You and I were cuttin’ it loose to ‘Walk, Don’t Run’.”

MDP, trapped in his own foggy memory, trying to stall any inevitable physical contact with Granny from The Beverly Hillbillies, grasps for straws

“All right, all right, you are correct. We were having the time of our lives and I remember how you SHOOK THAT THANG before The Rolling Stones made that a popular concept. I think I still have ‘Exile on Main Street’ next to the Breeze towel autographed by Porter Waggoner in the den.”

Then the inevitable. “Sweetie Pumpkin Doodles, how do I look?”

It is clear that DP is not fighting fair, especially when it still fits her to a T. Granny drank lots of possum juice and Ultra Slim-Fast over the decades. A chocolate shake for breakfast and one for lunch, then a sensible dinner of chicken gizzards and MDP is in a quandary. Still on page 738 of Anna Karenina, MDP finally relents, weakly looks up

“You look fine” trying to conceal THE PROBLEM

“Oh, Ginger Bread Man, you’re not even looking.”

“I’m sorry, Little Miss Muffett, I’m so caught up in the violence. They’re about to stage Gunfight at OK Corral.”

“Honey Bumpkin Lumps, Tolstoy didn’t write Westerns.”

“Well, Little Raggedy Ann, some of the Russians hid in the men’s room on the Mayflower and took Horace Greeley’s advice to GO WEST.”

“Apples, Peaches, Pumpkin Pie, why don’t we GO WEST and do a little WIPING OUT of our own in the bedroom?”

“When the story’s getting good? When there’s finally a shoot-em-up scene on page 1,138? When Dirty Harry is about to smoke out these Russian thugs at the Moskva Steak ‘n’ Shake where Anna goes for breakfast? I can’t wait to arrive at the part where Peer Gynt has a gun pointed at Anna’s head and Dirty Harry points his Magnum at Peer Gynt and says “Go ahead. Make my day.”

“Oogie-doogie, Lollipop Lovey-Dovey, wasn’t Peer Gynt Norwegian?”

“Weellll, bluh, bluh, they’re both north of the Equator. Same difference. Both get snow in the Winter.”

“Oh, Mammy’s Boy made of Aunt Jemima, is your little whim whim turning into a beanie-weenie?”

(Standing up, hoping she doesn’t notice the lack of a boner, replaced by the squishy banana) “Now you stop that talk this instant!!!! I do not need to be Dirty Harry or Ivan the Terrible to get me aroused!!!!!! I can pump my own Bridgestones!!!!!! I’m a guy, you know. And that centerfold of Anna Karenina on page 978 got me as erect as a fire hydrant.”

“Then drop your pants, peenie-pie.”

“What could I say? I was trapped. I could say that the zipper was stuck but I had sweat pants on. I knew Anna and her soulmates couldn’t lapdance this Lazarus of a phallic symbol. It was time to head to Milford Men’s Clinic and own up to the problem.

And I’m glad I did. With treatment programs that work without having to swallow Flintstones Chewables for a decent erection. Me and Minnie Pearl are headin’ to the Grand Ole Opry and all she’s gotta do is remove BOTH the bikini and the price tag. It’s hard to kiss when that damn thing’s in the way.”

Fire away, gang. If you don’t mind, I gotta pull out a few knives from my back. Man, Heather has a good eye. She must have hit the batting cages again.

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