This Week in Milford

March 29, 2019

Flogging Molly

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Meow!

Pretty damned presumptuous of  Linda to assume Molly’s skating event didn’t involve her family.  Most young people I’ve known who have been involved with events on ice have had massive family support, not only in dollars but in time (predawn drives to rinks for ice time come to mind).  Also presumptuous of Linda to think her volleyball extracurriculars are somehow more worthy than Molly’s synchronized skating.  Guess that’s what happens when your high school only offers football, basketball, baseball/softball, soccer and track (the latter two we almost never see or hear about because no one named Thorp coaches them).

People who shed in their lockers shouldn’t throw stones, nah mean?  Now Steve Luhm’s gonna have to show up and sweep all that hair off the locker room floor.  More likely, we’re gonna be treated to a couple of days of Molly’s “nobody understands me or my skating hobby” pity party.  That, or Mimi signing up all the Lady Mudlarks for skating lessons so that they can become as graceful as Molly in the field.

 

 

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February 27, 2019

Today’s “Gil Thorp” Sponsored by Staples®…

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…or at least it would’ve been had Staples® not axed that slogan five years ago.

We saw this coming a while back. Isn’t it convenient how the Thorps get others to do their dirty work for free?  Today Marty is a witting accomplice, if a bit behind the times (I mean, who signs their text messages?). Station manager LBJ on the other hand is, well, unwitting. I’m not gonna let any of that that spoil my enjoyment of Marty’s takedown of B/Robby. Kid has it coming.

Speaking of slogans: I wonder the rest of WDIG’s slogan that begins with “We wo” is. Maybe “We would play music but nobody’s listening.” Thoughts?

 

 

January 19, 2019

How to Groom Your Point Guard

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“You’ve run hot and cold… Is something bothering you?… There, let me rub that kink out of your neck.  Say, Mike, do you like movies about gladiators?”

Sorry about that.  Yesterday’s JoePa reference kinda triggered me.

Let’s recap what we’ve seen but not heard out of Filion so far this season.  He’d been slipping in one class and “had a one-week dip last spring because he was texting his girlfriend all night.”  Mike let Kaz know he wasn’t dipping anymore, so that’s not a factor. He gave Milford the lead at Danbury, but a deflection and an odd bounce gave the Mad Hatters the win.  All we have to go on is one panel in a strip set in the pre-season for any indication that Mike may be having moments of self-doubt.

Now the Mudlarks, distracted or not, are 1-4 and mediocrity would look like a step forward.  Social media exists in the Thorpiverse, Marty was already called out as a putz by Paloma Padilla & co. last season and, if Liesl Ishii is still alive, so has B/Robby.  So why are these kids so spooked?  The billboard and AM talk radio smear campaign should be giving these kids bulletin board material to fire up for the next game.  Seems like it’s Gil who’s distracted, and now he’s gonna pin it on Filion retroactively.  (Here I thought scapegoats were a Westview thing.)  Plant enough seeds of FUD in the kid’s head and soon enough he’ll crack, spilling his guts to Gil while ignoring where that big flipper goes next.

 

 

January 9, 2019

In Milford It’s Still December

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Now we know why story arcs in this strip run longer than their real-life seasonal counterparts. Check out the calendar on the wall behind Kaz; while we’re more than a week into January, in Milford it’s still December.

That’s not the only evidence that Milford is behind the times, even if it’s not quite the “1959 with cell phones” we often describe it as being.  I mean, look, they’re only on Billboard 3.0?  They haven’t even gotten to Billboard 95 or NT?  The rest of the world has been on Billboard 10 for some time now.  Fifteen-year-old Chevy Monte Carlos still ply the roads, their flanks slowly turning into powder.  (Come to think of it, that’s not out of the ordinary in the Upper Midwest.)  Newspapermen still call their bosses “Chief” Jimmy Olsen style, even while grooming their beards, though unlike Perry White the editors in Milford don’t seem to mind.

Is Kaz showing Gil a photo of Billboard 3.0 Kelly sent him, or has he “called up” robbyreport.com?  As Ned alluded to on Monday, none of us here at TWIM have yet to buy robbyreport.com and direct it here (though GoDaddy would be willing to negotiate to have its owner sell it to you – thanks for the update, Ned :-) ), but that would require effort on our parts.  Maybe we should do a GoFundMe? Let us know in the comments.

 

 

January 4, 2019

Levee Song

I’ve been slipping in the claaaaasssroom

All the live-long daaaaay…

I’ve been slipping in the claaaasssroom

Just to pass the time awaaaaay….

Cant you hear the whistle blowing

Rise up so early in the morn

Cant you hear the Kazman shouting…

Howry blow your hoooorn!

Howry wont you blow

Howry wont you blow?

Howry wont you blow your hooooorn?

Howry wont you blow

Howry wont you blow

Howry wont you blow your horn!

Fee fi fiddly I oh

Fee fi fiddly I ohhhhhh

Fee fi FIDDLY I OH???\

Strumming on Gils old banjo.

Someones at the Bucket with Kettlehead

Someones at the Bucket I knooow

Someones in the kitchen with Marjie

Strummin on her old Tape -Oh.

 

And in P3 Bobby Howry is inviting the man on the other end to fart over the phone.

 

January 1, 2019

I’ll Go Mow The Front Lawn, You Go Save Your Par

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Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO doo

Doo DOO!!!!!!!!

 

You auctioned off the football plot

And watched a lot of movies

Then let a Bozo joke with the team

 

Basketball is for the birds

There’s no such thing as Larry Bird

The Mudlark 5 are gonna get reamed

 

I’ll go call a time out

While you watch Dickie V

 

Where is my Norman Dale

Where is my Bobby Knight

Where is my Jim Valvano

Where have all the coaches gonnnnnnneeeeeeeeee

 

The TWIMers are in revolt. They’re mad as Hell and not gonna take anymore.

JUST when we thought Gil was going to come out of retirement and COACH after a short stint as a clothier at Milford Big and Tall (the suits made good advertising, Coach) , we find ourselves with deja vu all over again. When he exhorted the troops the other day with advice my nephew would have received when his high school freshman basketball team was in a similar situation and score, I was praying Gil had seen the errors of his ways and was gonna lead the troops into battle. Talk about Benedict Arnold.

 

 

Gang, with the help of Joe Szerletich, I just developed this idea from this video that will absolutely drive you nuts if you keep playing it. Next time  we go to war and we wish to brainwash the enemy into capitalism, I couldn’t think of a better way of erasing the mind with this throbbing, mindless spiel.

 

BADGERBADGERBADGERBADGERBADGERBADGERBADGERBADGER,

The badgers sinking in the ground as each one is called out then

MUSHROOM MUSHROOM

Comedy relief, evidently

SNAAAAAAAAKKKKKKKKKKEEEEEEEEEE

evidently to break up the monotony or you’d be a Viet Cong guerilla by the end of the ditty.

Get the idea?

Okay

 

GILTHORPGILTHORPGILTHORPGILTHORPGILTHORPGILTHORPGILTHORPGILTHORP

MS. RIZK MS. RIZK

MARTYYYYYYYYYYYYYMMMMMMMOOOOOOOOOOONNNNNNNN

 

It almost worked but the Mudlark gym ran out of holes and finally Dr. Pearl had to put her foot down. On the gym floor, of course.

 

And nobody can convince me that basketball action is composed of players returning to WHAT WE THINK is the locker room and even then when did a locker room need a neon sign to direct the players in the proper direction? Sure, If you visit Vegas, there’s plenty of glitter and glitz but people know where the machines are.

“Where’s the croupier? And the roulette wheel? I was on a roll and my wallet is stuffed with greens and I don’t mean collared greens.”

“Sir, you’re at a Burger King. You missed it by a light.”

That’s right, Thorpiverse, install the element of surprise and keep us guessing. Add some mystery and hope to God we don’t notice GIL AIN’T COACHING!!!!!!!!!!!

Well, Gil must have used another sick day but is that ROCKER???? Why would players be heading towards an Aerosmith concert in their gym shorts??? Is that SOCKER????? Somebody can’t spell SOCCER. Is that DOCKER?????? Don’t see Milford Outlet Mall around. Well, there’s only 23 other letters in the alphabet and it can’t be QUOCKER or OOCKER. Damn, I think they’re going to the LOCKER to change clothes. I’ve never known the Indiana Hoosiers or the Kentucky Wildcats to change into their DOCKERS in an AOCKER. Or EOCKER (that sounds like a Greek philosopher who debated with Socrotes at the Agora. Was he the one who issued him the hemlock?) .

And we’re distracted with this spelling bee to distract us from the real problem, GIL AIN’T COACHING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What a POCKER.

 

5GAME5GAME5GAME5GAME5GAME5GAME5GAME5GAME

HOMER OFFICIALS HOMER OFFICIALS

STINKY PLOOOOOOTTTTTTTTTTTTTT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

 

Gil at Milford Comedy Club on Open Mike Night

“…panda bear from Laos??????????”

Dead quiet in the place. Not a creature is stirring, not even a mouse.

Gil reaches for his other pocket. Pulls out Plan B

“Hey, Ladies and Gents, I was in my office when one of the cameo coaches came in and said ‘Coach, I need more work than a film session watching Heather Burns boss around the offensive coordinator (“Run an end-around on 4th and 8? Who hired you?”) . I really haven’t had a bite in 3 days.’ Know what I did?”

People are chowin’ down on the onion rings, dipping them in the marinara sauce

“I bit him!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

They continue dipping, this time in the bar-b-q sauce

“Ladies and Germs, know what ya get when ya transfer this basketball plot to Camp Pendleton? Gomer’s pile!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“All The Things You Are”, sung by Chet Baker suddenly blares on the intercom.

Next time, Gil.

 

 

 

Your coaching’s in absentia

Your defense schemes demented

The gym just ran a flea market gig

 

I put on my seersucker

Whistled to the players

X and O’s I diagrammed big

 

I’ll go call the Give and Go

You order Domino’s

 

Where is my Norman Dale

Where is my Bobby Knight

Where is my senile Hank Iba

Where have all the coaches gonnnnnnnneeeeeee

 

I designed a Picket Fence

For an easy slam

And you didn’t even

Notice ittttttttttttt (Was a face job)

ttttttttttttttttttttttt  (Was a poster shot)

tttttttttttttttttttttttt (Set the picks right)

tttttttttttttttttttttttt (Crowd was mummified)

 

Because I don’t understand, when reading in a quiz online, that one of the answers for what an ox eats regularly was a tuna fish sandwich

 

“So the ox walks into the bistro and orders a tuna sandwich with Julien fries and a Choc-ola. He slurps the Choc-ola, scarfs the Julien fries and then yanks a can of out-dated Star-Kist Tuna out of his horn. When Charlie the Tuna the Waiter accosted him, he asked, “Arent you going to eat your sandwich? Why are you eating from that can?”

And the ox replied, “Sorry, Charlie, but only oxen eat the best-tasting tuna which they can drag from their horn or tail or butt or tetlock that gets to be Star-Kist. Did you ever consider feeding my sandwich to the goldfish in your aquarium? I’m sure they’re tired of Ensure Fish Formula.”

The audience just ordered another round of onion rings. This is gonna be a long night. Bad comedians usually require 4 rounds before he gets the hint but Gil might need the loading dock.

And good God there’s P2 and P3. Are we due for ANOTHER Keystone Kop adventure where we just go ’round and ’round for a while that will deliver another tepid inconclusive ending? Football did a wonderful job of that. We never knew what happened the rest of the season although for the consolation prize we learn that Tiki didn’t live in a shtetl after all. Man, if this were Snow White, the Prince would be kissing the evil stepmother in the end. Gang, I don’t know about you but if Mimi was lying In State on some catafalque in Gil’s back yard, I’m sure Gil wouldn’t call Marty over to awaken her with a kiss, even if Marty used Scope. Really, snakes devouring Breath-Mints just doesn’t stem the odor of stinky plots.

Now that we know that The Milford Star is the cross-town rival of the Milford Enquirer, we are introduced to 2 gentlemen we’ve never seen before and so what else is new. Us TWIMers are used to our mothers-in-law dropping in every other day so when we’re about to sit down to dinner, Mommy Dearest barges in with her Chinet Paper Plate.

I think it’s a pretty safe bet that Slightly-Overweight-And-Should-Moderately-Reduce-Twinkie-Intake-But-Blu-Blocker-Grandpa-Glasses-Is-So-Joe-Cool is the editor and Coach Shaw’s younger brother is a reporter. Why send the janitor out to do some fact-finding?

And I’d be curious too. But where the Hell are you going to look FIRST???? In the deep fryer cage at The Bucket??? Ernie’s parrot???? I’ll bet that parrot can squawk a lot of info if you feed him enough Ritz’s Bitz. Lassie?????

“Okay, Lassie, who did those billboards????”

“RUFF!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Outdoor Advertising?????? I thought they went out of business.”

“RUFF!!!!!!!!!!”

“I didn’t know they were part of the bailout involving General Motors.”

“RUFF!!!!!!!!!!!”

“And some kid with Glasses slipped a 100 to cover the Wal-Mart promo??????”

“RUFF!!!!!!!!!!!”

“200. My bad. I’m gettin’ hard of hearing.”

And the next 2 panels indicate that basketball ONCE AGAIN will take a back seat to Lou Grant. Can we at least bring back Mary Tyler Moore for comedy relief because we’re gonna need it.

Really, what are you gonna say to the State Trooper if he catches you up in the billboard, snooping for some clues????? But as Little Bro Shaw says, news is in the eye of the editor. We just wish those eyes were in, say, Mary Worth, and we could get on with BASKETBALL. Coach, you know, the one Naismith invented? You’re still taking the ball out of the peach basket.

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Milford Farmer’s Cooperative Disputes Research Findings Over Cattle Eating Star-Kist Tuna!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Co-op says grain-fed beef is healthier and meatier than tuna-fed beef.”

 

“Honnnnneyyyyyy, I’m hanging a mistletoe over you. You know what THAT means!!!!!!!”

Coach Shaw is reading an article in Milford Outdoors about Marty Moon. Priming himself for another upcoming episode in Milford Nature Area, Marty was taking target practice on some dead skunk’s butt at the Milford Conservation Club before Coach Shaw was forced to look up.

If it means he can find out if they at least cleaned out the skunk’s innards before taping a bulls-eye on his derriere, he will gladly pucker up.

SMACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pretty satisfied himself, he learns that Marty wasn’t legally registered with that paintball gun and must buy a temporary permit at the Club’s business office.

But then there’s Round 2. And it’s not a puny mistletoe flagellating over him. It’s one of the logs in the log rack that was modeled after a Brunswick T Zone Caribbean Blue Bowling Ball. She has to use an engine hoist to hang the log over his head but whatever works.

Coach Shaw, annoyed at his inability to find out if the park ranger would issue fines, looks around to see where the pulley noise is coming  from.

Then he looked up.

A gigantic pin oak log is barely 3 inches from his head.

“Darlin’, what in the name of cameo coaches are you doing?”

“Honey, I lifted the log over your wittle head to symbolize I wanted a wittle more in our relationship. Much more, my wittle wee-wee boy.”

Ignoring the petulant baby talk,

“Dear, do you have to act like a lumberjack to get a kiss? I don’t feel like smooching with the Brawny guy.”

“Actually, this Brawny girl wants more than a kiss. I want us to come to beddie-weddie so the Brawny Girl can cut some more logs and make some paper towels. Isn’t that FUN???????”

“I’d rather squeeze the Charmin and get my ass chewed out by Mr. Whipple.”

Coach Shaw is fending off the baby talk because his train of thought is in abeyance. He wonders if Marty will also have to buy deer tags.

“Look, can’t it wait? Marty is hanging on a cliff and my heart is racing to see if he has to spend a night in jail. Paintball-splashing without a doe permit is pretty serious stuff.”

“This doe is wanting her 8-point buck to stick one of his points into the doe’s canyon.” She menacingly points the pin oak log at him to literally home the point. The shoe is on the other foot. “Now put down the wittle maga-zeen-ee and wet’s go to bed so the Big Bad Wolf can corrupt his wittle Bambi.”

“I’d rather huff and puff and BLOWABUBBABUBBLEBUBBABUBBLEBUBBABUBBLE Bambi’s house down. Darling, Peaches is trying to get Marty’s dead to the house because he could land in the Federal Pen. Paintball-splashing a chipmunk within 50 feet of the Park Ranger’s built-in swimming pool is pretty serious stuff!!!!!!!!!!!”

“All righty then.” Coach Shaw is suspicious of the change of pitch. Mrs. Shaw pitches the pin oak in the fire. Out of the andirons, she produces a gun. “You force me to desperate measures.”

Coach Shaw is seeing his life before his eyes in Technicolor. He never thought he’d see the day when Dirty Harriet would stick a Magnumnin his crotch or his chest to get sex.

“This is a paintball gun, the most potent weapon to ruin your camouflage outfit. It can splotch paint all over that Milford Gun Club shirt. If I hit it, it will take Borax and the rest of the 11,000 miles to clean the damn thing. Then you have to dry-clean it which is expensive THEN you have to leave it on the clothesline for a week. Your shirt next to your pajamas, the ones with Tom and Jerry on them? And your nightshirt with Droopy on the front? What will your buddies think?”

She is hitting below the belt now. Coach Shaw is panicking. “Now, in all this arguing, I kinda lost count. Was it 5? Or was it 6? Do you feel lucky, Honey?”

Coach Shaw is staring straight down the barrel and thinking. The magazine article or sex with his #2 pencil? The magazine sits in limbo on the coffee table by the M lamp (MTV or Mudlarks, either one.) .

“Well, do you?”

 

“I didn’t want to find out. Some things are just better left investigated by Dirty Harry and Joe Friday. Did you ever see Harry with a pink splotch on his Le Tigre jacket? Therefore, I went to Milford Men’s Clinic pronto because logs are for fires, not subtle hints that someone’s hot flashes are raging hotter than the hearth at Gil’s Christmas party. A mistletoe was simply not going to stem the conflagration in Milford National Forest. I had to fight fire with fire. Now, I’m a French Revolution about to descend on the aristocracy. King Louis XIV never knew what hit him. And Mrs. Louis XIV is having the time of her life, experiencing the most ethereal of sexual pleasures while we both watch the Palace of Versailles burn to the ground.

If you’d like to experience Bastille Day for yourself, come to Milford Men’s Clinic today. Renew the fires in your marriage and keep your own Fruit of the Looms free of orange splotches. Watching the Bay of Pigs invasion with a pair of stainless Hanes is what Milford Men’s Clinic is all about.

Gang, go to it. If you see two people about 100 feet in the air with a magnifying glass, it’s just me and Encyclopedia Brown gathering evidence at the scene of the crime.

 

The players shop for Dockers

Cuz there’s no keys for lockers

You took them on your 2nd honeymoon

 

Your playbook’s really empty

Full of Target liquor ads

No wonder why you hear it from Moon

 

I’ll jump the officials

You go hunt with Shawwwwwwww

 

Where is my Red and his cigar

Where is my Adolph Rupp

Where is ol’ 4 corners, Dean Smith

Where have all the coaches gone

WHERE HAVE ALL THE COACHES GONNNNNEEEEEEEEEE

Attaboy

Way to go

Hit ’em high

Hit ’em low…….

 

“…polar bear from Iceland????”

 

December 29, 2018

A Deflection… Until Monday

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Holy carp, three solid days of basketball action!  How are we gonna snark on this?  I mean, besides the obvious weekend cliffhanger, that is.  Let’s try to break down the action:

  1. Who is passing the ball to whom in P1?  Looks like it’s Hatter #23 that’s making the pass to the guy in front of Mudlark #11 Filion who, I’m guessing, will make the deflection.
  2. Paul Beaudry (if that’s supposed to be who was leading the “late rush”) wore #4 for the Mudlarks in the home opener.  Either Paul dyed his locks in the interim or that’s another kid wearing #4 on the road.  It could happen.
  3. Deflecting the pass to the opponent isn’t exactly “swatting it away.” If this leads to the Hatter making the basket and giving Danbury the one-point win, that will give Filion even more to stew over on the bus ride home and during me time.

Then what?  Then who needs to toughen up?  Then who goes all postal thinking Two Billboards Outside Milford are about them?  Then who tracks down Older Bobby Howry via Skyborne Advertising and stuffs his Adderall where the sun doesn’t shine?  This and more will be revealed to us sometime before Major League Baseball’s Opening Day, but probably not before the start of spring training.

December 22, 2018

Won’t Quit? Seems Legit

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Okay, so Milford ran into a buzzsaw of a non-conference opponent in its season opener and lost by double digits. Taken in isolation, yeah, they got their stuff handed to them but in the bigger picture of a basketball season it’s not the end of the world. You learn from your mistakes and apply them to the next game. You can still win your conference and make the playdowns.

Even a mediocre coach like Gil can be given a pass on this one, which makes his extended mea culpa to Marjie a bit odd. Marjie quotes Gil verbatim in the next day’s Milford Star, which is digested over coffee by Bobby Howry the Elder (which he will be tagged until otherwise renamed) who obviously thinks otherwise.

What Bobby’s next Burma Shave billboard will read is today’s cliffhanger.  Bobby’s revenge campaign may be to get Gil canned, but to what end?  He might think he’s better qualified to coach the Mudlarks after his stint at the MILFORD RECREATION CENTER but there’s that little matter of drug dealing that may keep him out of the job.

 

New tag today: Coffee Cantina, the second most popular meeting place in Milford outside The Bucket.

 

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