This Week in Milford

September 24, 2019

…Wasn’t The Last Time Milford Properties Said We Had To Be Out By The First.

Filed under: Chunky Bracelets, Coach Kaz, What the hell is going on here? — tdrewhardin @ 7:36 am

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I’m livin’ with Grandma

We’re splittin’ the rent

It’s best to tolerate the toilet seat slop

Or it’s sleep in a tent

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Big windows to let in the sun

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Richie Rich poster’s caught in the sun

Ooooooookkkkkk, Grant Hart aside(RIP, Big Guy, you touched MANY people), we know two things 1) Chance Macy reads Hardy Boys Mysteries (“The Clue to Gil’s Safe Deposit Box at Milford Federal”) when he’s not on the gridiron chewing up yardage and running over his opponents 2) Dr. Pearl’s sister lost it all in The Depression and is forced to live with family, the other option Milford Soup Kitchen Ministries and a bed at Milford Temporary Hostel, Inc. I didn’t think Chance was related to Grandma Moses. We would have seen “Winter Scene at Mudlark Lake” rather than Captain America on the wall.

And yet another diversion, just as we were getting used to Sharp Dressed Man performing in his role as Obnoxious Oaf in relation to his stepson’s football career, at least at Milford. And if we want to be efficient about this, why don’t we call a truce and say that if Chance’s parents won’t make Grandma Macy sleep next to the Snapper Riding Mower out in the garage and let her bed down in the basement of Chet’s abode, Chet can go to football games in attire from Milford Men’s Wearhouse, acting like a baboon when Gil calls a pass on 3-and-2. I understand Chet has a nice bar down below. Grandma Macy can get drunk and, well, you Jimmy Buffett fans know what I mean.

“GODDAMIT, THORP, THAT’S THE THIRD TIME YOU’VE CALLED THAT SHORT ROUTE!!!!!!!!!!!!! MY STEPSON CAN SHOVE THAT NOSE TACKLE OUT OF THE WAY ON SHORT YARDAGE!!!!!!!!!”

“Sir, you mind? There’s kids playing over by the press box.”

Big shout-out to Greg Simmons over at Shreves Engines in St. Louis, Missouri. He has been a very loyal customer for years and has weathered a lot of storms to keep his end of things at Shreves more than thriving. Every time I come there, the business is humming and hopping. He gets things done either as the boss man or when he does it himself. Last week, he got a truck unloaded then did business with me in a matter of minutes. Sounds like Small Business America gettin’ it done to me. His crew has always been the best to me as a pleasant bonus. I salute you, Greg. You da Man.

Support Small Business, Gang. It makes America run.

 

If ya splat a poster on th’ wall that shows Cap’n America battlin’ the aliens, warmongers, Huns, Visigoths, Vikings, Vietcong, Nazis, Siberians, Sandanistas, Martians, Jacobins, Seljuk Turks, Dravidians, Tuscanites, and the charter membership from the Milford Bridge Club and he’s haulin’ his shield around to saw ’em all in two and blastin’ the rest with his ray gun that he hangs on his gun rack in his pickup while his Fruit of the Looms are stickin’ out proud as a peacock in the heat of the action, ya might be a redneck.

 

Hair wrapped in curlers

Downed my Haley’s M-O

Waitin’ for my grandson to come home

And brag how many yards did he go

 

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Big windows to let in the sun

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Big sunbeams shinin’ on his toy gun

 

Okay. I could bite and get REAL sarcastic here and just jump on Grandma Macy’s comment about fame in P1. But let’s explore the possibilities, you know, solve problems, not fight them. This, after all, is a comedy blog, not the Demarcation Zone. We live to see another day without warfare in the rearview mirror.

“How’s fame treating you, Big Boy?”

“Well, I had to hire an agent to talk with Gil. I needed SOMEBODY to talk some sense into Coach T. 30 carries wasn’t enough and I wasn’t going to be no blocking back for Luke Bunkin when he ran that double reverse sweep. Sacrificial lamb is not in my vocabulary. Then I had to hire a bodyguard to stave off all the groupies at Milford High School. Hey, I almost flunked my Organic Chemistry exam getting mobbed by the sophomore girls in one of the M.C. Escher hallways. Then I had to hire a press agent after Milford Men’s Clinic called for the 15th time. Like I have erectile issues. Where’s Coach Shaw when you need him? He always leaves after suicides. Otherwise, I’m just a normal kid. I poop like everybody else.”

“I always knew you’d turn out to be a good boy. Want some Swiss Miss?”

 

I love it when I can get to the heart of the matter with no bloodshed, don’t you?

 

After we get all touchy-feely in P2 and the dust has settled, it has been driving me crazy while I sip on my Chock Full o’ Nuts Natural Blend coffee and try to place the face of the person who has clearly age-progressed. I’m talking about the woman, you ninnies. Didja think I was insinuating that Chance had age-progressed from Pop Warner League?

Misunderstanding out of the way, I think it is safe to say that Velma Dinkley has retired from crime-fighting and ferreting out criminals in caves and barns and silos that surround Milford with Shaggy and Scooby and the rest (Fred and Daphne replacing Professor and Mary Ann in those wheels in the opening credits of Gilligan’s Island) and come to retire in her grandson’s abode. Isn’t this just the storyline tailor-made somewhere in March for a happy ending? Naturally, we’ll have to slog through the rest of the soap opera with Chet “Call Me ‘Dad”, Dammit” Baker and Charlie “Get Off My Case, Dad” Roh, the football season that MIGHT utilize all 3 panels for action down the road (Wouldn’t THAT be a change of pace) , the 5-game season that Mimi teaches as a character-builder to her female hoopsters (“We might be filler while Gil has to convince Jaquan he is NOT a member of the team, but we KICKED GOSHEN’S ASS”) , the Super Bowl and Valentine’s Day but if it leads to more tender moments like between Chance and Velma, by gum, I’m all for it. Just keep your dentures in place, Velma, when you kiss out of mutual respect.

 

Now the ball game is over (guitar struttin’ each line down the pipe in this sequence except last line)

Grandma’s hair in a bun

Totino’s Supreme in the oven

At 2541

 

Because I will never know how Muldraugh, Kentucky, the only town in Kentucky COMPLETELY surrounded by Fort Knox, has EVER withstood a bomb that went awry in the firing range, even with all that land. I mean, someone could have pull the trigger when the soldier was drunk, right? The Dairy Queen has never endured a wayward A-Bomb?

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Moving To The Other End Of Town After Missile Barely Misses His Condo And Obliterates The Furniture From Evicted Tenants!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I’m movin’ close by Cochrane’s place. I need some legal advice on my pension plus he’s nowhere near Camp Mudlark.”

 

We move from the Macy household section of the tour and continue our our Era of Good Feelings in P3. Now wouldn’t it be just like Thorpiverse to ruin the Botticelli landscape by inserting Chet when Charlie was just beginning to have fun playing football? And Coach Kaz needs a pick-me-up after the inexplicable cryptic tete-a-tete he had with Gil and his talking hand the other day. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is some lingering bad vibes from that conversation and I’d be pissed too if I was basically blown off after asking a legitimate question. What’s wrong with Chance’s bio nestled in the Milford Enquirer between “I Saw Elvis At The Drive-Thru Picking Up His Medicine At Milford Apothecary!!!!!!!!!!!!!” and “‘Beer Drinking Is Good For You’, A Study At Milford Community College Confirms.”? Gil needs to get off his high hand and take a chill pill. And quit chewing his nails. That talking hand is down to nubs.

So keep Chet out of the conversation and let Gil’s hand get surgically removed. As Allen Neuharth, the great CEO of USA Today once said “Keep your good people on top and keep your bean counters on tap.” Stay in the stands and drink your Mr. Pibb and shut up, in other words, Chet. Stick to insurance and hand-purging.

 

Granny’s not into fist bumps

She’s privy to hugs

And it won’t be the last time we’ll ever compare Chet

To a roomful of bugs

 

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Big windows to let in the sun

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Here’s hopin’ Charlie’s havin’ some fun

 

254111111111111111……

 

Big shout-out to Danielle Harpe (Harpy) who does a great job at Cash Saver in Edwardsville, Indiana. She was very courteous and professional in her job, something us customers always appreciate. As a cashier, she got me out the door before you know it. I could tell she knew her job well, able to steer customers to where they needed to go and she was able to answer any question I had about pricing. Sounds like someone who represents America, Gang. Give her a salute the next time you shop there. She’s earned it.

 

“And Charlie Roh gives the friendly fist bump to Coach Shaw after Coach Shaw and Charlie have both performed. And that gives me an opportunity to call a station break. You’re listening to Marty Moon on WDIG-Radio, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

“Hi, this is Dr. Pearl. Don’t you think my sister is giving an Oscar-winning rendition? We were both actresses in the school play. As a matter of fact, we were in the play before ‘Our American Cousin”, the fateful show where Lincoln was shot. I will never forget hearing the ambulance coming for ol’ Abe. My sister and I had to hold back the tears.

So how does my sister keep plugging away after all these centuries and still make it to the john well into the millenium? Hugging her grandson and keeping that sleeper hold on him but not enough to dog-hunch him until he goes to bed?

The good people at Bristol-Myers have came up with a cold cream, Acid-Gel that does wonders on the lower limbs. Simply apply a dab to the kneecap and ACL’s are a thing of the past. That’s important because she could have used that when she was a Flapper Girl trying to impress John Barrymore but her knees gave out doing the Charleston. And when her tendinitis was acting up, she needed more than prune juice to move her legs properly. She lost her job as Rosie the Riveter that way and had to go back on welfare. Knowing you weren’t contributing to the war effort while munching on Shredded Wheat from food stamps can be a crusher. And when her toe nail polish won’t wash away, Acid-Gel is right there so embarrassing Revlon stains won’t appear in the carpet. Erase your mistakes and hug ’em tighter when they score the winning touchdown, I’ve always said.

But you too can get this wondrous cream that solves a multitude of sins. You can order it online at http://www.acidgelhelpsoldgeezers.com or call 1-888-GEL-HELP. AND it will be available at Milford Apothecary and Mudlark Orthodontics come this October. It takes a little time to clear tariff regulations.

What have you got to lose except pain in your legs? I wish I’d had some when I was on the playground with Grover Cleveland. He could be a bully. Come try some today and never feel old again. Now it belongs to the ages.

 

Comment away, Gang. I’m going to hug Granny Clampett just as soon as she gets done boiling my jowl bacon ‘n’ chicken gizzards. We all need incentive. Like Wilt Chamberlain once said when a reporter asked if he could jump to a chandelier in the building, Wilt replied

“No, but if you throw a $100 dollar bill up there, I bet I learn real fast!!!!”

Motivation, baby.

 

“He could have topped the century mark in rushing if you’d left him in the game. I know you didn’t want to run up the score-”

“Chet, come to bed.”

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September 19, 2019

Seeing Chance Macy

Filed under: ?, Milford Idiots, Milford Weirdos, What the hell is going on here? — timbuys @ 9:51 am

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Chet and the only other party attendee willing to talk to him other than Chet’s wife are both creeps.

Panel 3 is amazing in so many ways, from the off-center lampshade to the multi-surface flooring right down to Chance’s socks, the details all count for so much and yet convey so little.

As is so often the case, we are left to simply ask What The Hell Is Going On Here?

September 18, 2019

The Air In the Front Yard Is Cooler Than the Air Coming Out of You*

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Back from a brief hiatus and feeling a bit refreshed. Know what else would be refreshing? A story arc about a player who just wants to get better and actually gets better through coaching. A kid whose parents are simply supportive of his or her interests and not trying to live vicariously through them or project their own shortcomings onto them.

But that would be asking too much, wouldn’t it? Far easier to trot out the cardboard villain adult who puts it where it doesn’t belong to try to advance their kid’s causes for their own selfish motives. Here busybody Ballard feels that need to for reasons known only to him. Where does he plan to use his observation about Chance Macy? As evidence that the kid is too gassed/hurt to come out to party** and, as such, deserves to be benched in favor of Charlie? Or that his not coming out to party is evidence that he’s not a team player and, as such, deserves to be benched in favor of Charlie?

Either way, it’ll be another strike against Ballard, whose big swing and a miss on Tiki Jansen makes this strike two.

*Alternate title: Chet Ballard, Backdoor Man. Is that an actual transom above the Schuring’s back door?

**Pretty confident of the Schurings to plan a postgame victory party at their house, innit?

September 17, 2019

Is He Not Able To See Them Through The Window?

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P1: As a school board member, our man Chet has shown nothing more than he collapses like a house of cards in a gentle breeze.

P2: Hey, do you notice how none of the other adults at the Schurings’ party seem to be talking to the Ballard-Roh family?

P3: Chet’s face is so adorable when he gets all pissy, who can blame Charlie’s mom for giving a little tickle under the chin?

Bonus question: What is it that Thorp’s presence is intended to deter?

I made this point in the comments yesterday but it sure is a shame how we’ve gone from thrilling actual action on the old gridiron to people talking about things they’re not going to do.

August 22, 2019

Mudlark Football And Manwiches, Traditions In Their Own Minds.

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Time out. As you most of already know, I have been a Thorpiverse junkie practically since I was knee-high to a grasshopper and I am trying to recall the LAST TIME the team EVER took a Hungry Man break after all that blockin’ and tacklin’. A Banquet Frozen Turkey Breast Tenders and Stewed Potatoes with that little itty-bitty brownie crammed in the corner of the plastic plate after 30 suicides? Didn’t happen.

But, okay, wink, wink, I’ll play along, Thorpiverse. They had to pump Healthy Choice Cheese-Free Lasagna out of Luke Bunkin, he was pukin’ all over the artificial turf after he blind-sided the fullback on a botched Off-Tackle set and that pasta came right up to the surface. Sure, Thorpiverse, anything you say.

 

The game is mortified

The plays are so unreal

The season will commence

With stinky tones, I feel

 

Whatever happened to the plot

It used to be so good

It made us feel alive

Not crapping chunks of wood

 

So if you hear us, Gilbert, can’t you feel the SOS

Football’s grinding in a smelly stench of murkiness

 

When you eat

How can we ever think you’ll go on

When you talk

Marjie clogs the plot up until dawn

 

Sorry, Gang, a little Abba music to soothe the savage idiocy. Works every time.

 

Gang, Fuel Mart in Austin, Indiana is your place to go if you’re on the road. Take Exit 34 off of I-65 and head west and take the VERY NEXT ROAD to the right and you’re in the place. Friendly people, plenty of pumps, PLENTY of goodies at great prices, heck, they got my hot dog ready every time. Come see Samantha and company where they treat you like a king. I know, I’ve been going there for years. Gang, if you’re in the area, get your butt on down there where they know you by name. SEVERAL semi’s go there, trust me.

Support Small Business. They make America.

 

Well, if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em. That seems to be the watchword in P1 as one of the Evil Triplets dropped cheating in golf and now wants to make amends and pursue a career cheating in football. By gosh, spearing the tight end when he ain’t looking after he had to use his athletic ability to snare a pass a bit too high on a Double Out Right flat-out works up an appetite.

Now that’s one way of looking at it. If some of you want to cop out and go the Billboard Way,

“This week at Milford McDonald’s, get a Happy Meal and a large-size aluminum container of Milford Yorkshire Hog Farm Sloppy Joe’s, only $1.99. I’M LOVIN’ IT!!!!!!!!!!!”

As long as they can engineer all that into my car while I’m negotiating the drive-thru, I’m in. Just make sure they have extra ketchup in the containers. Last time, the clerk at the window stuck horse radish in my order.

 

There appears to be division here. Some of you who are ALWAYS moanin’ and complainin’ and have to have your own way insist that Gil is a combo Bruce Lee-Godzilla while using his claws to maneuver the Hungry Man Chopped Sirloin Burger and Great Northern Beans, complete with watercress, while Marjie the Cardboard Cut-Out is cheating on her Ultra Slim Fast diet (“Give us a week, we’ll take the weight off this mindless plot”) , leaving her Chocalate Mocha Shake behind the bleachers and going the Steak ‘n’ Shake Burgoo Burger route, all-you-can-eat Sloppy Joe’s at its finest.

Others who are the art connoisseurs of the TWIM readership maintain the position that this is really Henry Fuseli’s “Kriemhild und Gunther”, Sturm und Drang efficiently motorcaded to the Mudlark football field, eating under the bright lights in the Bubba Joe Tilwell section. I would agree, were it not for the John Madden-like character in the background who dons “The Nightmare” cap and seems serious enough to want Milford back to its winning ways, even if it means slaughtering several cows and razorbacks in the Milford Nature Area to pull off this fait d’accomplait. True, “The Nightmare” was also done by Fuseli but the painter never painted a pigskin, let alone a Brunswick bowling ball, therefore cuttin’ some slack is in order.

 

To my grandpa, Leonard Thomas Hardin, I want to follow in your footsteps and be a cook just like you. I dedicate this blog in your memory. You did A LOT for people, Grandpa.

 

While the cuisine at the football practice is a fair one, though slightly inaccurate (Tod Andrews on the phone one day “I never saw you lay a pickle on a Manwich when I was your assistant, Gil”) , it could stand some sprucing up. And what better way to satisfy the appetites of a bunch of ravenous traditional mixture veterans-perennial-young-team-for-6-decades than with Sloppy Joes, beans, cornbread, generous slices of apple pie, etc., washing it down with waterfalls of Mudlar-K-Cola in diferent varieties, i.e. Kiwi, Lemon-Lime, Diet Prune, Big Red, Gin & Tonic, Gooseberry.

But, hey, leave plenty of room in the tummy for Irish Soda Bread.

Simple. Mix in 4 cups of Milford Bakeries All-Purpose Flour with a teaspoon of Morton Salt, procuring plenty of space on the table where the aluminum containers of Milford 7-11 Fried Chicken has been sitting for several Two-a-days. Throw in a teaspoon of Mudlark & Hammer Baking Soda and stir. Next, pour 1 and 1/2 cups of Milford Dairy Buttermilk. Be sure not to spill this on the aluminum container of meat loaf sitting next to your concoction. Several members of the defense, particularly the linebackers, got the runs at last year’s football picnic and it was too late when the coaches tracked the source of the problem.

Preheat oven in the boiler room as Steve Luhm will be on assignment vacuuming the jungle in Madagascar. Set it to 400 degrees. Take well-mixed dough out of bowl and lay out on an 8 and 1/2″ x 11″ baking sheet.  Wait until the offensive line unit has run laps before sticking the dough in the oven. Clear oven of Coke paper cups and dead mice, then add a bit more buttermilk before re-inserting in the oven. DO NOT PULL A GIL AND RUIN THE PLOT, ER, DOUGH BY KNEADING IT. Shape it into a ball, no Nerf Football jobs here, and bake for 40 minutes. Etch Spalding in each quarter and bake for another 25 minutes. Stab with a knife, cut an end zone on each end, then bake until crusty and browned. Let cool on Gil’s hair.

Feeds an army of 150 or a football team of 75, give or take a water boy or two.

 

You munch so far away

Though you are standing near

This team was once alive

But something died, I fear

 

I really hate to rock the boat

Cream cheese caught in my throat

What happened to this plot

It’s limping, barely floats

 

So as you’re sipping Red Bull

Can’t you hear the SOS

The doughnuts fattening Marjie

Shoves the stage to the SOS

 

When you eat

How can we watch you prate in a fog

When you talk

Marjie passing gas on some corn dogs

 

This plot is already beginning to excite me. We learn that the shortest distance between two points is Gil’s butt. Naw, naw, you can’t say Marjie’s butt, she curves and eventually forms a spiral, just shy of her pelvic area, were you able to unfold P2. Okay, so part of Gil’s butt overlaps a tiny bit into the bleachers but not by much. Marjie is still gonna have to indulge in a Nutra-bar or two to edge out Gil.

And whatever romantic interest Cousin Itt is engaging in with the person sitting next to him in P2 will presumably remain a mystery although I think his knee pad will be coming off in the next week or two, or so Doctor Hibbert, Homer’s doctor, has repeatedly stated. I’m sure the Manwiches are getting Cousin Itt aroused, judging by his juxtapositioning to the table, right behind Bruce Lee, er, Gil.

 

Let’s focus our attention on the main course. Sure, Sloppy Joes and Jowl Bacon dipped in molasses are nice but for that discriminating assistant football coach with no life or even football players with an extra appetite, One-Pot Roast Chicken is sure to please.

First, get the chicken. If you have a shotgun handy, there are plenty running around in the woods behind the stadium’s Port-a-Pots and ferreting them out ought to be no problem.

Next, take the wishbone out as even Cousin Itt might have problems digesting portions of the chicken if unnecessary parts are allowed to hang around. It’s not necessary to kill off Mercutio in Act 7 long after Juliet has committed suicide but that’s the beauty of Shakespeare. Actors and actresses enter the Pearly Gates at the right time.

Tie in a bundle, exposing the breast as wide as possible, seasoning with salt left over for 2 months on the faculty tables at the high school cafeteria and fresh-ground pepper. Peel carrots, potatoes, celery that have been yanked out of Gil’s garden, slice them in thick portions, then obtain 2 onions that Marty left in the fridge in the break room at WDIG because he changed his mind and wanted to leave his Bucket Cheeseburger plain. Quarter those, then throw all those goodies, sliced and diced, into pot that Mimi bought at the Milford High School Rummage Sale. Set chicken on top of that.

Preheat oven to 375 degrees, head down to Milford 7-11 for a Slushee break, then return and place One Pot Roast Chicken in oven and roast for 45 to 60 minutes, or longer, depending on how much of Gil’s dandruff fell in the pot and needs to be singed.

Chicken is done when juices are clear, not pink, when pierced with a knife or tire iron. Serves several with a Bucket Shake.

 

Now here’s where it gets fun. If your dog chewed the comics section of the Milford Enquirer, leaving you with just the first 2 panels and Gil left you hanging with

“But I’m glad we’ve kept the tradition-”

wouldn’t some of you guess that the rest of the sentence would be football related? Thought so.

Here are some ideas

“…of ringing the bell at the entrance to the stadium every time a freshman sacks the varsity quarterback.”

“…of the team captain snapping his jock strap every time a player runs the 40 in 2.7 seconds or less.”

“…of handing the player brave enough to tell Marty Moon to shove it up his ass and that he has a wiener as big as a Vienna Sausage the game ball.”

“…everybody in the stadium standing up everytime the players sing Handel’s “Messiah” when a running back scores a TD on a run 80 yards or longer.”

“…of making the players do 1000 push-ups after they’ve dumped Gatorade on me. Man, that shit gets warm after about 3 quarters.”

 

But noooooooooooooo, we’d never guess that Gil and Marcie are involved in a Lean Cuisine Moment. Well, at least there’s no touching involved. Keeping it on the level with bar-b-q lamb and mashed taters with gravy, there’ll be no front-cover illicit activity coming from that culinary angle, that’s for sure. Now if they can steer it back to football, the circle will be complete.

 

“And that wraps up the Annual Alleged Traditional Football Picnic and, God, I am stuffed. We’ll be back in a moment, enough time to stuff all this Stouffer’s Meat Loaf and Hamburger Helper Mac ‘n’ Cheese Surprise into the doggie bags. I think the Hefty bags should hold. This is Marjie Ducey, you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

Mrs. Shaw knocking on the door of the equipment shed at Mudlark Stadium which is locked good and tight for reasons about to be divulged

“Honeyyyyyyy, it’s time to come to bed!!!!!!!!!!”

“I’ll be out in a minute. I gotta put some more shoulder pads on the shelf. Some are out of sorts and every pad has to be in alphabetical order.”

“Honey, it’s 3:00AM. It takes you that long to put pads back on the shelf?”

“Blubba, blubba, I had to wash out the underarm stains on ’em. Man, some of these players need to apply some Ban Roll-on!!!!!!!”

“Darling, even I know you don’t put a shoulder pad under your arm.”

“Hubba bubba, some of our players are kinda dumb. Sometimes we gotta set ’em straight on where to wear their jock straps. Hoo-eee, we hafta defumigate a few with the Weed-B-Gon when we run out of Renuzit.”

“Sweetie Pumpkin Pie, I think we’ve defumigated all we need to defumigate. Now remove the 7-lb. Master Dead Bolt and let’s eliminate our own demons.”

“Dagnabit, I still have footballs I gotta put back in the bin. They got punctured from laying out in the grass too long. Then Luhm ran over the others with the riding mower. Do you know how long it takes to restitch them, cure them, and blow the big fan on them to dry?”

“I think my sweet little Che Guevara has something else left out to dry.”

“If you’re talkin’ about the helmets, I scraped all the cow manure off of ’em. We made the players do sprints in the stuff. That’ll teach the players where to walk when they go to the Milford Slaughter House to get Manwiches.”

 

“I finally caught onto what she wuz sayin’. I saw one of the helmets, shiny and new straight out of the polisher and saw my own helmet and found out the hard way that I couldn’t stick that into the polisher. I was too short.

I went to Milford Men’s Clinic and boy, the shoe shine job I got on my Significant Other. Cole Haan could not have smeared shoe cream any finer to get the erections of my dreams. And with a free Prick-o-Meter check to ensure sexual pleasure the magnitude of a Jake Slocum western, I am confident there’ll be no more embarrassing tender moments of the inappropriate variety.  Come see for yourself at Milford Men’s Clinic. What have you to lose but your pride and your Beanie-Weenie?”

Gang, comment away. I’m going to go get in line before Cousin Itt snarfs up all the tater tots.

 

Ooooooooooookkkkkkkkk, how could I leave y’all without DESSERT? Okay, okay, there’s plenty of pies and cakes on the table but we can add one more to the fire. After the players have had their fill of Twinkies

Let’s keep it basic. This one is Nectarine & Berry Cobbler and this will take care of any lingering appetite. You know football players and their Grand Canyon stomachs.

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Proceed to Milford Dough Factory and purchase a package of sweet biscuits. Come back, hoping the Milford Fire Marshal hasn’t issued warrants, and prepare sweet biscuits on cookie sheets, cutting into 10-14 squares.

Next, get nectarines, blueberries, and blackberries that you plucked illegally from Milford Valley Vineyards property out of the cabinet. Slice nectarines until you get five cups. Slice blueberries and blackberries until you get 2 cups apiece. Combine all of this in a bowl, mixing in Milford Bakeries All-Purpose Lead-Free Non-Phosphate Flour, a pinch of salt, and a half cup of sugar. Throw in Milford Valley Generic Lemon Juice that Mimi uses every Christmas for her fruit cake and mix well. Put entire result in a gratin dish 9 x 12 inches, 2-3 inches deep. Bake for 8 minutes or until fruit softens, hoping to God Coach Kaz isn’t around with his greasy fingers to sample the merchandise, after washing football pants all day.

Place sweet biscuits on the fruit and such in staggered rows and return to the oven. Bake for 35 to 45 minutes, until biscuits are golden brown, the fruit is bubbling, and Coach Shaw goes back to obscurity, ready to return when Girls Basketball pops on the scene. Let the cobbler cool and serve warm with Milford Dairy Whip (“Freshly Milked From The Goat”) or Milford Dairy Ice Cream (“Ditto”) .

 

August 13, 2019

If it were an official meeting, would they refer to him as Thomas?

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Suffice to say, Cicero she ain’t, but it was a nice try by the creative team to feature a strong female lead. That said, let’s go panel by panel…

P1: Bad touch, Hadley.

P2: Way to dis Milford academics, Hadley.

P3: Ed is pissed he had to put on a suit and tie and come all the way downtown just to be a prop.

Bonus questions:

What are those tomes in P1?

What is on the framed sign in P2?

Neither of Tiki’s parents attended this thing?

August 7, 2019

Ceci n’est pas une school board meeting.

Running both the color and B&W versions today as a sanity check.

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If this is not a school board meeting, then what is it exactly? Some well-connected kid using his connections to get what he wants from a school board that doesn’t want the public to know how readily it caves to that well-connected kid? No wonder nobody wants it made public. Rubin’s left so many dots for us to connect, like those dots on the sidewalk Steve Luhm forgot to sweep up.

So much posturing going on here. Hadley brought her prop, Ed; Ballard (wearing a suit with weird-ass lapels only The Riddler could love) brought his: tiny Carol and another yet-to-be-named ventriloquist’s dummy school board member lady. There’s also an official-looking seal behind Ballard that some Mudlark must have made in shop class, and an American flag that may be displayed in violation of the US Flag Code if there’s an unseen State of Milford flag to its right. Speaking of unseen, Ballard better watch his back before that shadowy figure stabs it.

 

August 6, 2019

Look At That Business Woman, She Even Finally Got The High Five Right.

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Imagine her, all of her wealth

And in the arms of somebody else

I imagine her in court

 

With her communication skills

Cabinet full of videos and pills

Paying the bills and beating the WAP!!!!!!

 

You’ll never understand

Manipulative mind of that woman

Powerful debauchery in her eyes

 

Look at that Business Woman

She’s got a nose in your business

Look at that Business Woman

Her hair’s not much whiter than Pearl’s

 

Somebody oughta put a helmet and shoulder pads on the Business Woman. She no doubt knows the playbook better than the players on the Mudlark roster, the way she’s been entrenched in the affairs of the football team. Little wonder why I used The Church’s “Business Woman” (Steve Kilbey, your songwriting is STRONG, My Man) to attend to things.

Oh, when she’s not at the Milford Country Club to see if she should do a mid-career switch from law to the LPGA. Might I make a suggestion? Our high school has won beaucoup State Championships in Boy’s Golf and Girl’s Golf and if she wants to elevate her game, look no further than being with our own to see if she’s got what it takes. Pair her up with a couple of sophomores and if she can drive the ball longer than the youngsters, then sure, let’s pair her up with Nancy Lopez. But if she makes a habit of landing in the sand while the teenagers sink par after her par, well, as the old saying goes, don’t quit your day job. Some people are better at strong-arming School Board members whose businesses were in a lull period so they wrote a letter telling Tiki to get the Hell out of Dodge than they are missing the pin oak tree on the fairway on #9. Probably explains why THAT plot was an aborted flight. Thorpiverse simply never admitted that the Business Woman’s beginner’s luck was no substitute for PRACTICE, something you’ll need if you want to do better than the several-strokes-over-par-round-even-with-a-handicap game you more than likely shot the SECOND TIME AROUND but Thorpiverse didn’t record. Why show the dirty laundry and ruin a promising plot?

Golf game aside, L.A. Law has swooped in and preyed on the squirrels that is the School Board members and left nothing for the vultures to eat. And a recycled plot is saved for another day. It’s nice to know that when Tiki is playing in the 35-and-over Co-ed League at Milford Softball Complex and the Milford Parks & Recreation mails him a letter positing that he’ll have to move back to New Thayer because he has titanium bats in his bag, titanium being something the Milford EPA banned in the city limits, he can always dial long distance to Chicago and call the Business Woman. She’s got a chip and a head on her shoulders, 2 valuable assets when pleading your case before the Rec Board. You might need a video but you can always shoot one of Tiki at Mudlark Lake using one of the bats as a fishing rod to prove their environmental friendliness. The beauty is, it’ll be awhile before we reach nirvana. The Tiki Plot will encounter several rebirths before then, especially if the Business Woman has anything to do with it.

 

If yore lawyer got ya a reprieve until ya can fix the septic tank at yore trailer park after showin’ the Milford Zoning Board a video of yore neighbor’s raw spillage of Totino’s Pepperoni pizza crusts (the pizza of choice fer rednecks, just pop it in the microwave ’til ya charred the damn thang and enjoy while yuz watchin’ the Super Bowl) all over the streets of Milford Trailer Vista, the same neighbor bein’ the pot callin’ the kettle black just cuz yore septic tank is missin’ a coupla bolts and causin’ at worst a minor stink with just a few old horseflies and a few skeeters buzzin’ about, nuthin’ else, ya might be a redneck.

 

Doncha love the Business Woman pointing the finger at Tiki in P1? Hasn’t he had ENOUGH of that? Wasn’t that the point of this plot? Stop allowing the Rockville School Board to shout “J’accuse!” at our hero because they never bothered to see the video of Bugs Meany and his gang threaten Tiki? It was bad enough that we never got to the heart of the matter as to why Mr. Ballard and Granny Clampett and the other School Board members would send him a letter stating that he would have to withdraw from Milford at the earliest hour when the evidence had already confirmed that he was a member in good standing. What was the point of putting him in Double Jeopardy? There was nothing else on the agenda and the School Board had to concoct something exciting just to boost attendance?

“Hey, I know!!!!!! Let’s send him a letter saying his septic tank went on the frizz again, causing Milford Trailer Vista to shut down for 2 months!!!!!!!! Everybody will be at that meeting. They’ll want restitution. Not even the Business Woman can get him out of paying the street and yard cleanup. He’s just as good as ‘Hit the showers!!!!’ It’ll be nice to use more than one sheet of steno paper to record the minutes.”

And maybe that explains why she IS pointing the finger.

“OF COURSE!!!!!!! You’re free to play. But that’s not the issue. Remember when you turned on the garden hose on that day when it was really muggy? And you forgot to turn it off because you wanted to catch the radio broadcast to see if the Cubs regained the lead? Well, your neighbor’s watermelon patch next door got flooded and…”

Well, I don’t think she’s screaming “You ran a slant and the play called for a buttonhook!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

Her mind reveals a lump of coal

Stopped like the flutters in death’s robe

When she reveals her marriage plans

 

All of her bitches come deep and swift

Promise her anything only if

She’s going to have to ditch her dad

 

She’ll never understand

The entire playbook in one day

Time to head home, come what may

 

Look at that Business Woman

She’s got her head in her buttocks

Look at that Business Woman

Her hair’s not much whiter than Carol’s

 

Remember that flunky that followed that gangster who used to always say “Shaddup”? One of Bugs Bunny’s nemeses?

“Oh, Boy, Boss, we held up the Milford Federal Bank 3 times this week and we hot wired a coupla ‘vettes so we can head to our hideout in North Bend and live large and the best part is we won’t have to attend any more School Board meetings!!!!!!!! That video clearly shows we were racin’ the streets and alleys of New Thayer and gunnin’ down a couple of squad cars. No way they could prove we bombed Ms. Rizk’s classroom!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Shaddup.”

“Does that mean I’m back on the football team? I may have a fat ass but I can pull-block. And I know how to protect the quarterback’s blind spot. Coach T even thinks I can play a little tight end even if I have have lunky hands like Foghorn Leghorn.”

“Shaddup”

“And I think Mr. Ballard couldn’t sell an automobile policy to an Indy driver. And, Boss, he’s got lice in his beard. Does he ever shower? He smelled like Tiki’s septic tank. And Carol uses Geritol to treat her herpes. Old people’s medical products won’t bail you out if you’re sexually indiscriminate.”

“Shaddup”

“And are those guys ACTUALLY playing football in P1? It’s been so long since we’ve seen any sports. Just Looney Tunes and the Business Woman and her boyfriend-cum-fiancee. And her dad who’s in a mid-life crisis at 81. When I saw the helmets, I thought ‘what’s a road construction crew member with a Stop and Slow sign doing at the practice field? Then it hit me. Gawrsh, THEY”RE PLAYING FOOTBALL!!!!!!!!!!! I know because crane operators don’t normally wear jock straps. You don’t do a cup check on a cement mixer. I’ll bet you didn’t know that, huh, Boss?”

WHAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

SHADDUP MEANS SHADDUP

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Judge Ito Declares O.J. Will Not Have To Vacate Condo Even If Costco Is Moving In The Suite Next Door!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“It is my understanding that the Milford Zoning Board had designated the property a mixed-usage development with an easement so The Bucket could use the grass lot for overflow parking on Saturday night.”

 

Boy, the Chunky Bracelet Parade is in full display today. Business Woman bought a few at Milford Consignment Shoppe and must have picked up a few off the ground when she was at Milford Towing and Recovery to retrieve a teenager’s car after the car got its title mixed up with another car which was supposed to be towed to New Thayer Towing and Recovery. The Milford Towing people have VCR’s. They should have watched the video of the New Thayer owner sticking the title in the glove box. There’d be no misunderstanding. And Business Woman wouldn’t be plucking stray brass rings and copper fixtures out of junk vehicles and putting them on her wrists.

I’ll give Thorpiverse this. They got the sound effect right for once. I personally would have liked WHAP but I’m not particular. Just PLEEEEASSSEEEEE no more KRUNK or FLOK or SPLACK or any of the other noises Bigfoot makes in Milford Nature Area when he’s taking a dump.

“Batman!!!!!!! Look out!!!!!!!!! Here comes Bigfoot!!!!!!!”

FART

Oops, not even Batman did that to The Riddler. Let’s try again

“Batman!!!!!!! Look out!!!!!!!!! Here comes Bigfoot!!!!!!!”

CRATCH

“You knocked him cold, Batman.”

“Yes, and with the Hydrogenated Anti-matter Dephosphated Soporific Bat Sleeping Gas, Chief O’Hara and the rest of the Milford Police should be here before he wakes up.”

 

And speaking of Batman, not sure why The Joker is making her dad wear a suit and be a prop. Why would that be necessary if you she were trying to track down the Bat Cave? Be in your best seersucker when you finally locate the Bat Computer? And is the School Board meeting still a go? I thought that was a dead issue. As in sports, expect the unexpected in Thorpiverse. Evidently, Business Woman wants her dad to be in his best Joe Pesci and bring his accordion that’s on his desk in P3 to entertain the School Board members. Playing some polka like Bobby Vinton’s “Melody of Love” would soften anybody’s renewed efforts to run Tiki out of town. The Lawrence Welk Theme ought to bring Ballard the Insurance Guy to his knees. Get Carol Merrill at 85 cryin’ those crocodile tears.

“I haven’t cried this much since I showed some man and his family that Bahamas trip for 4 behind Door #3.”

And maybe it’s just me, but aside from the inexplicable time-lapse growth of Mr. Baxendales’s hair caused by an outpouring of Rogaine and oat bran mix, is Mr. Baxendale striking the Napoleonic pose? Otherwise, he appears to be holding those sheets of paper containing business news and insider info at Milford Downs with his left ring finger and pinky. I tip my hat to a guy who can bet the winning horse and hold the form on his thumbnail, no question.

And does she always wear Ford Explorer piston rings when she’s talking to her dad? I know she’s trying to look stylish but…

 

“And that’ll wrap up another practice here on the gridiron. I’ll be talking with Coach T. in a moment. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

 

“Did your loved one pass away recently and your budget did not allow for cremation? Wasn’t it a bitter pill to swallow to see the corpse lie in state in the truck bed while the Dodge Ram peeled away towards the Milford Medical Research Center? As one family related to me, it was shocking to find out Grandpa Jones was subdivided all over the lab, or so the nurses said. It was painful to put his head in a jar while his hands were substituted for frog legs to do testing on nerve impulses. And don’t go there about his gluteus maximus. That became some kid’s trampoline after testing that with Dacron.

Hi, I’m Doctor Pearl, speaking on behalf of Milford Funeral Solutions. The friendly staff here understands the concerns of many families strapped for funds but want the dignified procedures that accompany cremation. That’s why they have partnered with Milford Scrap Metals, Inc. to facilitate a better way to The Promised Land. For a cost that would cause a mild surprise, Milford Funeral Solutions can take your loved one, after proper service and heartfelt testimony of the deceased when he or she was alive, and drive the Dear Departed  to Milford Scrap Metals, Inc. for a righteous send-off.

Don’t worry, after all the aluminum has separated from the iron, staff workers at the incinerator ensure that the device is completely devoid of any metals or the occasional Diet Coke 16 -ounce bottle that gets accidentally thrown in the fire. Your loved will never know what hit him or her as the flames reach an apogee that will take him or her to the Stairway to Heaven. No leftover material has ever graced the surroundings, your loved one has vanished into another dimension, ready to join those who wait for him in the Heavenly Garden. Isn’t wonderful to not spot charred bone or misrouted dentures around the fireplace, let alone the hearse crash into one of the semi’s filled with #2 copper because the police-escorted cavalcade kept the Path to El Dorado pig iron ingot-free and devoid of rebar trucks? And you didn’t have to dip into your retirement and pay an early withdrawl penalty.

Yes, Milford Funeral Solutions truly has discount cremations designed to bring peace of mind to your loved one and your pocketbook. Come check them out today and let your own Uncle Charlie get the Trial by Fire via The Shadow of Death without allowing your car to be repossessed. You owe it to yourself and your loved one.”

 

Take ‘er away, Gang. I think we still are going to have a School Board meeting. Maybe not. But maybe one day Tiki will sign with the Cubs…

Couldn’t resist, Robmize, couldn’t resist.

 

And when she comes, the plot explodes

Exquisite bracelets in outrageous mode

When dad’s hair grows, it’s suddenly gone

 

Maybe you’ll find it, maybe you won’t

Maybe Dad loves her, maybe he don’t

Maybe he’ll wear a peruke all alone

 

You’ll never comprehend

The hair transplants she gave to Dad

A Business Woman, that’s her path

 

Look at that Business Woman

She bought some hair for his scalpline

Look at that Business Woman

She’s got more white hair than Dad’s chest

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