This Week in Milford

December 13, 2018

Hey, I Say, Hey, There’s No 360 Windmill Jams When I’m Makin’ A Funny

Filed under: ?, basketball, freak hands, Milford Weirdos, What the hell is going on here? — tdrewhardin @ 3:29 pm

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…and 99 other pithy maxims I said when I was on the basketball team that I will tell my grandkids and collect to publish a book. Surely there’s a market for “Inane Commentary to Stall the Plot That I Think Is Funny and Will Be Referenced By The After-Dinner Speaker at the Monthly Milford Kiwanis Club Meeting”. Just stick it next to the Wall Street Journal at Borders and VOILA, instant New York Times Bestseller.

“Get off your butt, Marcell, you wussy. And did you hear the one about the traveling salesman and the point guard on their way to the game?” Six figure sales on that daddy of a witticism.

 

 

Shout-out to Stanley Clark of Louisville, Kentucky. He fights for his life EVERY DAY and winds up winning in resounding fashion. He goes to his rehab clinic with his best face forward and has chosen to Do The Right Thing as a result. He is hoping to walk one day and if he keeps working his butt off at the clinic and gets out and about in general, I have no doubt in my mind that that dream will be a reality. Rootin’ for ya, Big Guy. You got my blessing and my respect to press on. I believe you will.

 

Gang, I don’t know aboutchoo but the basketball plot is already a flat tire. Hoo boy, does this mangled Michelin need a visit to the Milford Men’s Clinic to pump things up, errrrrrr, never mind.

So far, all we have seen are Mudlarks in their gym clothes practically playing Cooties with each other, one Mudlark in his night gown because he forgot his gym bag, and basketballs. THE COACHES HAVEN’T EVEN SHOWN UP!!!!!!!!!!!! WHERE ARE THEY?????????? I follow a lot of college basketball and I have a ton of respect for University of Kentucky Men’s Basketball and their fans and one of the reasons is Midnight Madness is a HUGE deal and you’ll see guys practicing basketball at GOALS and the scoreboard is THERE and RUNNING and there will be REFEREES there to call the game, the players and the referees will not be acting like the kids on Romper Room like we’ve seen in the Mudlark Fellowship Hall, scratch that, Gym. And you can damn well be sure the coaches will not be negotiating the rapids at Mudlark Falls with Marty and Peaches in the Milford Nature Area. There’s a word for that. COACHING.

Gil, truncate this tomfoolery we’ve witnessed the last few days in the playground you call a gymnasium or hand in your whistle.

The consolation prize is that TA-DAAAAAAAAAAAA, WE NOW HAVE COURT DIMENSIONS!!!!!!!!!!!!! But let’s not get ahead of ourselves. I said we have lines on the basketball court, I didn’t say they were legal, accurate, or even fit to line up and chalk down like the Milford Playground Courts. In fact, the Mudlarks may as well play there because I am totally confused on the dimensions in P3. I thought at first the arcs formed part of the jump circle but unless we are expecting King Kong and Godzilla at tip-off, really no way we should justify that appellation and maintain a straight face. Look, I wouldn’t want to be the one throwing the ball in the air. I’d be crushed by Godzilla when he’s tapping it to a teammate for an easy 2.

Soooooooooooooo, is that part of the 3-point arc? Maybe. Big maybe. Trouble is they are circling around and for all intents and purposes intersecting each other. Also, the arcs are facing AWAY from their respective buckets so unless you’re Curly Neal and you plan on keeping sharp with the Globetrotters with your 47-foot heaves, it’s best to shelve THAT notion and pretend the soccer team uses the court when the basketball team isn’t playing or practicing.

Actually, the b-ball team is just doing a bad imitation of Joey Bishop so expect DC United and the Mudlark soccer team any minute for their annual exhibition match.

“GOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Lionel Messi has put Italy up, 1-0, over Uruguay as the match has reached the 63 minute-”

“Filion!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Give me 50 on the ground. If you don’t want to do the rebound drill, hit the showers!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

And for the life of me, I am trying to figure out the line which I will assume for the moment ( I said for the moment) surrounding the, for lack of a better word, jump circle. If that line is running east-west (using your compass included in the Go Comics travel kit) , where is that other Line going beyond the, crossing my fingers, out-of-bounds line???????? Is that Yellow Brick Road leading to Oz? I guess we’ll know after Filion is done with his poor excuse for stand-up when Dorothy, the Scarecrow and the Cowardly Lion appear on the court. Really no way the Tin Man could be taking a shower after playing one of those “O-WEE-O” monkeys on the racquetball courts. Must be wiping his butt with his oil can in one of the stalls.

And I PRAY that same line is not north-south unless that line is the half-court line. Otherwise, the gym displays a very short stage for Filion’s “Bert and Ernie” material. We’ll probably never know because nobody’s playing ANY basketball, including Mike “Take my wife, please” Filion.

And WHERE IS Coach Thorp? In his office listening to The Clash’s “Rock the Casbah”? If I see an armadillo running across one of those Etch-a-Sketch lines, I’ll have my answer.

 

Unclear as to why we need models on the back of a Healthy Choice Smoked Turkey Breast, replete with mashed potatoes and refried okra other than for image and image sells (which I understand) , but willing to run with it

“Try our Milford Slaughter House’s Finest Whole Hog Sausage, now in Hot and also Mild. Whether you’re ordering a sausage biscuit off the dollar menu in The Bucket drive-thru or you’re planning a Baptist Men’s Breakfast at Milford Baptist Church, Milford Slaughter House’s Finest is your sausage of choice.”

Cut to Marty moon on the back of a package posing in his Armani Double-Knit suit and Gucci Shoes (The Sopranos couldn’t be prouder, observing their sartorial personality on display in a pig sty) with a 5-ton Yorkshire. Only John Lennon did it better with his porker on his album. Image is everything, Folks.

“Marty, where the Hell you been? You got mud all over you!!!!!!!!!”

“Just doing a little modeling and earning some extra cash.”

“Well, thank God you’re in the studio reading the Milford Community Calendar. They won’t see you.”

 

Big shout-out to Mike Flanders of Middletown, Kentucky. Though essentially confined to a wheelchair, you would never know it by his hilarious sense of humor. The dude had  me rollin’ the entire time I was with him (“That’s not my cane, that’s my Abel” GOOD ONE, Big Guy) . And he is very close to his cats, Wilson and Nemo. The latter was called that after the cat ran away for a while, Mike getting Wilson in the interim, BUT Nemo returning, earning the name. Mike, you got it, My Man. I admire his courage and humor which gives us all hope that you just never give up as he can attest and confirm. Got my respect, Mike.

 

I normally try to work across the panels (i.e., start with P1) , but P3 was just full of leaving-themselves-wide-open chutzpah that I had to crucify that first.

But make no mistake, P1 and P2 are hanging high and dry as well. Why do we have to include a member of SPECTRE who is threatening to take over Milford??????? Is 007 in New Thayer chasing down those hoods? And I guess if you take over Milford with shrewd advertising and H-bombs (Y’know, the ones stored in a closet somewhere in Dr. No’s or Goldfinger’s cave) , you’ll take over the world. What strategy. Really, Hitler should have taken a detour to Mudlarkland before he reached Sudetenland. Would have saved him a lot of trouble plus the world would have been served on a platter for him. Napoleon? Why go through that enormous expanse called Russia when Milford was on the way? He might have avoided Waterloo.

So as this part of the plot unfolds (ready to hold my nose) , it should be interesting if Dr. No’s second cousin twice-removed is able to conquer the globe, separating the wheat from the chaff, champs from the chumps in the bargain. Gil, you are nothing but a stupid high school basketball coach whose luck has run out.

Oh brother, Dr. No, we’ve been onto that for 60 years. Tell us something we don’t know.

 

Day 9

Peaches narrowly avoids a zebra in estrus while she is foraging for mulberries which are reputedly in abundance on the Chisholm Trail which ran straight through the area before they made this Milford Nature Area. There are traces of cattle drives but Peaches is in no mood to chew on a longhorn skull in her birthday suit no matter how desperate she is for food. She can wait until the next mulberry bush. Spotting a baby giraffe, she may have hit paydirt. Since Giraffes are by nature herbivores, you won’t catch too many in the parking lot at Outback Steak House. She waits until the mini-speciman has had its fill, then retrieves her KFC Fill-Up  Bucket and piles it in the container. It’s a shame that Milford Bakery Outlet is nowhere near or she could chow down on mulberry shortcake and whipped cream. Well, this is the outdoors, you understand.

Marty, meanwhile, is a little delirious, not surprising if you have confronted Mother Nature face-to-face for several days. He staggers along the woods, desperate for any hope.

And it’s 50 feet in front of him. An old house, perhaps owned by the man overtaken by Frogs(Is the record player still playing? I swear, that bullfrog CRUSHED that Petula Clark record he was spinning), Marty joyously walks up the stairs into the house.

He finds the living room. It’s dark but there’s a La-Z-Boy recliner with his name on it. He plops down, careful not to get his butt stains all over the serge fabric. Man, that stuff don’t come off in the wild. He lays down one of his Hanes towels. That 100% cotton’ll steer those butt marks clear over into the next Nature episode. He lies down and takes a much-needed cat-nap. After realizing that his dream of Gil at Golgotha was over, he gets up and heads to the kitchen. He manages to locate the refrigerator, surprisingly still functioning. Unless squirrels are storing acorns in the Fresh box or raccoons are using the tap water, Marty finds no condiments of any kind, freezer included. Then he notices a Post-it note on the fridge door as he shuts it.

“I killed Coach Shaw.”

Marty, a bit unnerved, heads to the other parts of the house. He notices a sculpture of a Mudlark in one of the bedrooms and is intrigued by the objet d’art. He notices a tag on it. Unable to read it, Marty gets out his flashlight and shines a light on the writing.

“This Milford Mudlark was created by the Blair Witch Project.”

In a moment, we’ll see if Marty goes the chickenshit route and runs out the service entrance of the Milford Nature Area or if he opts to stick around and watch the satanic cult sacrifice an oranguatang in the den while ESPN Sportscenter is on, both for the glory of Lucifer.

 

“Hi, this is Coach Gil Thorp. Boy, what a pickle Marty got into. I dunno, I was desperate but I wouldn’t want any members of the Blair Witches kicking for me, not even Sabrina’s witches, so I’d be running more than the 50-yard dash outta that place. But what’s scarier is when your sex life is on the rocks and you can’t get Samantha Stephens to wiggle her lips to get you erect. Why call Darrin Stephens and enlist the aid of his wife when Nirvana is simply a visit to the Milford Mall away? That’s right, there are no magic wands, no magic potion like the stepmother gave Cinderella, no antidote for the vapor lock on your significant other that Dr. Bombay could hope to prescribe. The Prince will not be at The Clinic to arouse Cinderella or anything else in the office.

What you WILL get is expert advice and top-notch medications designed to enhance your manliness including a 12-unit supply of pleasure shots, free and easy to use, just put that needle right on your pecker and it’s as if you are receiving oral, well, you men know what I’m taking about.  And if you were a kid, you enjoyed the Balloon Man filling up those balloons at the carnival. Think of yourself as the Balloon Man, filling up your own balloons. Trust me, I am not waiting for my wife to kiss my significant other and wake it up after being dead a thousand years. She can be Prince Charming in bed, not at The Clinic.

Come to the Milford Men’s Clinic today and start your own fairy tale. Just because Endora changed your significant other into a celery stalk doesn’t mean The Milford Men’s Clinic doesn’t have magic of its own to enhance your sex life. Experience the pleasure today. And send the Wicked Witch of the West back to the slums of Oz.”

 

All right gang, it’s your turn. You got the floor and anything you say can and will be held against you in a Court of Law-

SHAREEF, HE DON’T LIKE IT

BOOM BAH DEE BOOM BOOM

ROCK THE CASBAH

ROCK THE CASBAH

“Kaz, dammit, did you open the cage again?????????”

“Well, you wanted me to feed him Ken’l Ration Healthy Choices for a Fine Coat. Did you want me to dump the can on top of the cage?????????”

 

“My name’s Bond. James Bond.”

“Look, shitface, we don’t care if your name is SpongeBob SquarePants, you’re a prick and we’re gonna kick your ass and egg your Aston Martin DB5. C’mon, dudes, let’s waste this asshole.”

BLAM!!!!!!!! BLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!! BLAMBLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BLAMMO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

As the Duane Eddy guitar is playing, we hear a voice all over New Thayer

BOND IS BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

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December 3, 2018

Remember When You Dig A Hole It’s Two You Gon’ Dig

Filed under: The Bucket, What the hell is going on here? — nedryerson @ 7:37 am

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Surprise! There are at least two more football games to be played.

In today’s installment, Andre Ruffin is committing the classic sports sin of “looking past” the next game in anticipation to a showdown with a rival. In his estimation, the Tilden win is a foregone conclusion. In sports cliché fashion, an upset at the hands of Tilden is all but guaranteed. Of course, this analysis is presented in the utter vacuum of knowledge that is Gil Thorp where we have no idea of the relative strengths and weaknesses of teams in the Valley Conference. Sometimes, Marty or Marjie will pop in to give us a “tale of the tape” synopsis of an upcoming game, but we have none of that. We’ve been busy around here with the film crew.

Speaking of the film crew, I can’t help thinking about Clark and Leonard. Did they not earn a celebratory meal at the bucket with their cinematography and fancy getaway driving? Now that Joe Bolek is in solid with Tiki and Andre, what about Clark and Leonard? Do they have carte blanche to hang out in the Bolek media room and watch all the crap that pretentious Joe won’t allow?

Another point of interest here is Andre’s answer to Tiki about the rivalry with Valley Tech. It’s something that goes back to ’61! If we’re just going to dick around here, how about fleshing that out a bit, Rubin? I don’t have the benefit of a Gil Thorp football treasury or online archive to get the story. For now, the story is “they take cheap shots”. It’s more of the same: Other country clubs outside Milford turn a blind eye to cheating in golf tournaments, New Thayer High harbors violent gangs and Valley Tech are cheap shot artists. We get it.

November 30, 2018

Will the artist who drew Panel 3 please stand up?

So we hit the reset button on football on…. November 30. Tomorrow is December first. They havent played a game since.. November 16, 2 weeks ago. In that time frame my state played the semifinals and finals of the playoffs and is DONE!! DONE! And these guys are not only wearing their game unis to practice (again!!) they have their helmets on the ground next to them while they stretch. Nobody does that. When your on the field you wear your helmet, and on the sidelines you take it off.

So the dudes from New Thayer decided to call a truce after that scene? Ha. Methinks its just a cover for a sneak attack in the future.

Now— what the hell is with Panel 3?? We have the 10-yard line FIVE YARDS FROM THE GOAL LINE!!! And the end zone looks really skinny, with MILFORD literally taking up the WHOLE DAMN SPACE!!

Holy crap. I mean, how many damn years has this strip been getting drawn, and the clown in charge of drawing it, knowing its a  SPORTS strip, doesnt even draw the field correctly?? How hard is it to draw a football field?? If I was this dudes art teacher, years ago, in high school, and this dude went to my school where my football field was on the damn campus to look at EVERY SINGLE FUCKIN DAY FOR 4 FUCKIN YEARS and he drew this panel in my class, I would not only immediately flunk him, I would force him to eat the paper on which he drew this field, then shove him down the nearest toilet and push the FLUSH lever, and THEN, I would stick my head in a microwave and turn it on high.

Only then would I feel the least bit better.

Nothing further your honor.

November 27, 2018

“Raid At Entebbe” This Is Not

Filed under: ?, freak hands, Milford Idiots, What the hell is going on here? — tdrewhardin @ 1:23 pm

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Gang, as our other TWIM writers and contributors have mentioned, this is getting damn silly.

I am watching “The A Team” one random night where Martians land and capture the President’s daughter demanding $100,000,000,000,000,000,000 in ransom to finance their own Cape Canaveral so that they can get another $100,000,000,000,000,000,000 to finance another space station for some creep like Ernst Stavro Blofeld or Dr. Goodhead(James Bond taking a much-needed vacation), etc., and the A Team swears that “surrender” is not in their vocabulary. You’re all psyched up, knowing they’re going to kick some Martian hind end, after the commercial break on Jif and Cadillac Seville of course, and after you hear “This is WDIG-TV”, you FINALLY know that Mr.T is going to do a number on some Martian’s head.

Well, if the show started at 7:00PM and it’s 7:53 and ALL the commercials have been run through(How many ways can you advertise Lean Cuisine, sheesh), you KNOW we’re due for some ass-kickin’. It might be crammed into 7 minutes but it’s been done before(as “Batman” proves-7 minutes of WHAM!!!!!!!! SOCKO!!!!!!!! KAPOW!!!!!!!!!!! RETCH!!!!!!!!!!!-“Well done, Robin, we’ll be sending The Joker up the river where he belongs-whoopsy, daisy, old chum, our times up, we better make way for ‘The Flintstones'”).

So now as Apollo XLVII lands on Mars and heads to their hide-out, somewhere out where the Loch Ness Monster inhabits a lake, we’re expecting camouflage make-up, Uzi’s grenades, handguns, shotguns(“Shoot a Martian for love now”-I can hear Junior Walker sing), tear gas, Mr. T pumping his fist, waiting to grab a Martian by the hair and apply the Sleeper Hold, AK-47’s, not to mention a Humvee which crams in 12,354 commandos, U.N. Peacekeeping troops included, even John Glenn and Gus Grissom, ambassadors for U.S. Space Travel, chime in with their Winchesters, diplomacy hittin’ the road on this one.

But at 7:57, reality sinks in. Mr. T. has a Nikon, Grissom and Glenn shoot their Polaroid at a Martian and the President’s daughter playing one-on-one basketball on some Martian clay court somewhere, while the rest of the A Team shoot their video recorders for a National Geographic Special in the near future. Geez, look at that Martian with that Ibo tribeswoman, both of them displaying their boobs as typifies many National Geographic articles and pictures. And get a load of that Martian trying to hog-tie that white rhino at the rodeo. Martians are cowboys too, I s’pose. And I didn’t know Martians live in Tipis. Talk about Dances With Wolves.

At 8:00, when “Rhoda” comes on, we are left devoid of any action and go to the Milford Video Connection and rent 10 “Rambo” movies. What happens when your fix has not been satisfied. When we gotta resort to “Rambo Raids Gil’s Refrigerator”, we are desperate.

“Don’t point the camera that way, FOOL!!!!!!!! That’s his butt you’re shootin’!!!!!!!!!!!”

 

 

Come to Mike Smith Firestone in New Albany, Indiana where you ALWAYS get taken care of and at a fair price. Smack dab in Downtown New Albany, he has always done a great job for me and my dad as we do a lot of traveling in our business and good tires are a premium. Mike always comes through and we can keep our business running thanks to Mike and his staff. His mechanics have always treated us right and many times the problem is fixed the same day. I’m bettin’ other customers can say the same. Gang, if you’re in the neighborhood, check him out. Treat your vehicle to the best. Mike Smith is da Man.

 

Then come up the hill to Mike’s brother at Jeff Smith Marathon in Edwardsville, Indiana. I get all my gas there and they have full-time mechanics ready to fix any problem at any time. What I like is the parking lot is full of vehicles ready to be worked on. THAT’S busy. They’re doing something right. And I am always greeted with a smile by Crystal who gives that same smile to ALL the other customers she meets. Good quality gas, great mechanics, great customer service from people like Crystal, great owner, and pumps that are always busy and I think you have a recipe for success.

Gang, support small businesses like the two I just mentioned. Yes, we all shop at Wal-Mart but you need to go where EVERYBODY knows your name. Mike, Jeff, and Crystal know mine.

 

Now that another episode of “The Rat Patrol” has just about concluded, as evidenced by their whooping it up on their walkie-talkies and Iwo Jima has been nuked to death from a Kodak perspective(Boy, if I were Hirohito and Truman threatened to bomb Hiroshima with a Polaroid One-Step, I’d be in Honolulu with my dignitaries requesting the surrender papers ASAP), I’m still wrapping up the Musical Chairs version of the plot. It hasn’t gotten to “Days of Our Lives” proportions, that’s the consolation prize.

Anyhoo, that’s Tiki, while in Car #2, that’s Joe and Leonard. We don’t think the last name is Bruce since the dude is black but taking no chances here. I’m not gonna get surprised by Joe and Allen Funt.

“Man, that looks like the black dude all grown up from ‘Wee Pals’.”

Smiiiilllllleeeeeee, you’re on ‘Candid Camera’ as Allen triumphantly proclaims

“Nope, T. Drew, that’s Bootsy Collins driving the mini-van. You didn’t notice his funky heels?????????”

 

Shout-out to Kristi Sykes and Tyler, of Louisville, Kentucky, for their take on living. Kristi has served on numerous boards to make Our Fair City a better place to live. Gotta hand it to ya, Kristi, you stuck your neck on the line to improve the living conditions of the things around us. Thank you for putting in the long hours it takes to make the decisions necessary to make things a go. and you’re teaching Tyler the same thing. Sure, it’s okay to sacrifice, Tyler. You always come out ahead that way. Treat Kristi with respect, gang. She’s earned it.

 

Because I’m really trying to figure pout what a Bioesthetic Dentist does as per a sign I saw last week

“Gil, my goodness, your teeth look great!!!!!!!!! White and shiny!!!!!!!! I could see them sparkle while you were doing morning duty in the parking lot while I was pulling in.”

“Gee, thanks. I just wanted to be At My Most Beautiful. It just wasn’t enough to use Colgate or Crest. So I went Milford Bioesthetic Dentistry Practitioners, Inc., to get the whole package, teeth that complement your visage. My bioesthetist offered to perform a nose job, I still had insurance money left, but I said ‘no. thank you’, I think I still look like Robert Redford without the Poly-Grip.”

“Well, Gil, I hate to break it to you but I think your bioesthetist did the wrong procedure. You look like Flipper.”

Gil, banging his spout

“I KNEW he used the wrong anasthesia!!!!!!!!!!”

A shout-out to Josiah Rousseau-Taylor and his mom, Amanda Rousseau, of Louisville, Kentucky. Both of them have plenty of get-up-and go and they proved that getting out and about today. It is easy to sit at home and hope the world comes to you but These two people live life the way it should be lived. Whether a trip to the hospital or to go shopping, they are always doing something to make the world a better place. And they both do it with a smile on their faces. Salute them, gang, they deserve the support.

 

Watching “To Tell The Truth” one night at 1:00AM on WDIG when the station ran out of “Murder, She Wrote” episodes.

 

Bah

Bah Bah Bah

Bah Bah

BAH BAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!

“Hi, I’m Garry Moore and welcome to ‘To Tell The Truth’. Today we are about to uncover the personality of some dipwad of a coach. He says he coaches at Milford High School though he declined to say in which state the high school or the town, for that matter, is located. THAT should be a challenge to our panel of judges, speaking of which, are anticipating The Moment even as I speak. Let’s say ‘Hello’ to our celebrity judges, none of whom are making any movies or TV shows nor competing for the stage with Frankie in Vegas, Jack Carter, Nanette Fabray, and Louis Nye.

Applause, Applause

“Now let’s meet our 3 contestants. one of whom is telling the truth.”

Bah

Bah Bah Bah

Bah Bah

BAH BAHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

 

Johnny Olson, normally not on the show, Don Pardo called in, reads the roll

“#1, what is your name?”

“My name is Gil Thorp.”

“#2, what is your name?”

“My name is Gil Thorp.”

“#3, what is your name?”

“My name is Gil Thorp.”

 

“OK, Gentlemen, if you’ll have a seat, we can commence with the questioning.”

Jack commences

“#1, I noticed you’re Black and I swear, you look like James Brown. Can you honestly say with a straight face that you are Gil Thorp and that you commanded the respect of primarily white kids? I’ve read the strip, y’know. Those threads are straight out of ‘Living in America’. You’ve worn that on a rainy night when you got your ass handed to you by New Thayer?”

“Mr. Carter, I assure you, I was there the night we got an ass-whuppin’ from the team you mentioned. Contrary to what you say, I wore my Speedo sweat suit and matching Florsheim loafers. I even quoted from ‘Our Daily Bread’ after the game for inspiration. I’ll admit I read from the wrong date, I read the sermonette on ‘Gossip’, but the kids were quick to correct the error and hand me the intended rain-soaked page. It talked about how David might have gotten squashed by Goliath nut there was always the Playdowns. David was going to slay his 10,000’s in the Post-season.”

Bah

Bah Bah Bah

Bah Bah

BAH BAH

“Folks, that means we have to take a commercial break. We’ll be back after these messages. Stay with us.”

 

“If you’ve been defaced as a result of bad dental practices, get 3 times the money at Sharkey Law Offices. Why settle for your mom’s allowance  money after a malpractice suit on a tooth pull when you can THINK BIG!!!!!!!!!”

“I knew we shouldn’t have used the dental lathe as a pulley to pull my my rear molar out of its socket. I got tangled in the machine and I couldn’t appear on ‘To Tell The Truth’ to convince the audience I was Gil Thorp. No, my cheekbones were shattered and I looked like The Fly, minus a molar. Thank God, The Shark got me 3 times the money the Milford Public Defender could only conceive in his dreams. I may have trouble cashing the check, matching my face with my photo ID on my driver’s license takes some doing, but my kids can vouch for me at the Milford IGA. I give ’em a Snickers for helping me.”

“You heard right. Get 3 times the money!!!!!!! No need to pay needless expenses at the Milford Quik-ee Mart on lottery tickets; You have a winning ticket without having to stand in line. Or drink their day-old Colombian-blend coffee. Call 1-FON-THE-JAWS and get justly compensated.”

 

Bah

Bah Bah Bah

Bah Bah

BAH BAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

 

“Welcome back. Nanette, it’s your turn.”

“#3, how long have you been coaching at Milford?”

“For the last 60 years, give or take a decade. It’s kinda fuzzy because the brainwashing I experienced in the Korean War did a number on my memory.”

Louis Nye at the plate.

“#3, how many champions have you coached during this time?”

“Oh, I’d say quite a few. I coached Moose Mason in the Long Jump and Reggie Mantle in the Shot Put. A real smart-ass but, by golly, could he throw. He about knocked out the Ironwood Ingot coach who BTW was an asshole. That mug would jack up the hurdles at the last second when the judges weren’t looking and Dilton Doiley wound up with ‘Hurdle Nose’ in the 100-Meter Dash. Then Archie Andrews helped us win the Marathon in record fashion. Pulled away from Tod Andrews’ son and the rest of the pack by the mile marker at Logan’s Steakhouse in Oakwood.”

“#3”, Jack Carter brusquely interrupts, “You are aware that you’re talking about Riverdale High?”

“They were on a Foreign-Student Exchange Program with Milford High. I would have wanted to coach Luke Bunkin his sophomore year but Dr. Pearl took it out of my hands. She felt Pop’s Choklit Shoppe would broaden the students’ horizons and help them experience a different culture.”

Nanette Fabray at the plate.

“#2, it’s my understanding that the TWIMers and the reading populace in general say you can’t coach your way out of a friggin’ Bucket Burger bag. What do you think?”

“Listen”, as #2 stands up, climbs over the table and goes after the panel

“When you are left with a bad plot and nominal players, what am I supposed to do? I mean, one of our players spends more time at the cinema, eating tubs of popcorn and Mike and Ike, than he spends on the football field!!!!!!!!”

Two security guards, borrowed from Judge Judy, hold him back

“Then you got this Tiki who comes from Micronesia, Polynesia, Fiji Islands, Lanai, Oahu, Guam, Pitcairn Island. Bikini Atoll, whatever, trying to convince me that he hung around with The Sharks. Well, have you seen Maria yet? Have you??????? I didn’t see her singing ‘I Feel Pretty’ while they were supposedly dating…”

Bah

Bah Bah Bah

Bah Bah

BAH BAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“And we’ll be back after this” as Garry Moore rewinds the canned chorus to keep the audience from thinking #2 was serious, Bah Bah’ing the machine to death.

 

“I went to my bioesthetic dentist, hoping to look like Brad Pitt or Russell Crowe. I would have even settled for Errol Flynn. Instead, I got the face of King Kong and I still have my abscess. My kid’s birthday luau was ruined. all the kids at the party stayed on the other end of the pool and didn’t want Daddy Kong anywhere near the diving board. Cannonballs were out of the question. Thank God, The Shark got me 3 times the money.”

“Don’t let Bioesthetic Dentistry deprive you of your dignity. If yo go to your office Christmas party looking like Godzilla, dental work included, call 1-FON-THE-JAWS today. Hard to play kissee-face with the secretaries in this condition. Let The Shark get you back to the Drew Dandey days and get 3 times the money.”

“Now when Blue Oyster Cult plays ‘Godzilla’, I don’t panic. And I no longer creep up to the mirror. Thanks, Shark.”

“Call The Shark today. What have you got to lose except Fay Wray?”

 

Bah

Bah Bah Bah

Bah Bah

BAH BAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

“All right, panel, have you reached a decision on the real Gil Thorp? Jack, what do you think?”

“Ahhhhh, I’m having a real problem with #3. I don’t remember Gil with an earring up his nose or a tattoo on his left butt cheek that says ‘The Grim Reaper played nose tackle at Milford and sent ’em flyin’!!!!!!’ as he vividly described in the pre-show ceremony. Thank God he didn’t drop his drawers to prove it(audience light laughter). And it was a toss-up between #1 and #2, but OK, #1, you’ve convinced me. There is a Black Moses in Milford, ready to part the fans on the football field when there’s a riot after the game, after you’ve won, naturally. You can teach good sportsmanship and win too. You’re Gil Thorp.”

“Allllll right, very good. Louie?”

“#2, ya gotta keep your wits on, Buddy, if ya wanna make it in Show Biz. Ya can’t lead an ant farm with that kind of temper. #3, I’m in for ya, Bub. Hell, my mom had a tattoo on her boobs that said ‘Jesus is Lord of my Life’. Ain’t nuthin’ wrong with tattoos, just don’t scratch one on my pate(Audience again lightly laughs). So you are Gil Thorp.”

“Annnnnnnnddddddd Nanette.”

“#1, I didn’t like what you said about playing Hyattsville DeMatha Catholic, Maryland or Oak Hill, Virginia or Univerity Heights, Kentucky. These schools are nowhere near your district in the comic strip and I read the funnies all the time, so I know. When you insisted that Snuffy Smith graduated from New Thayer, I knew you were an impostor.

And #2, your hair is designed in a way only the Bride of Frankenstein could love. I thought you were Herman Munster at first when you introduced yourself but noticed Lily wasn’t in the audience so YOU are Gil Thorp.”

“All right, the votes are in. Here’s the moment we’ve all been waiting for. Will the REAL Gil Thorp please stand up?”

All three are staring at each other…

“We now resume our regularly scheduled broadcast, already in progress.”

 

“What should we do with these punks?”

“There’s only one thing TO DO. Jeb, fetch the nooses.”

“Texas Ranger Studman Machomaniac Kent Walker Shaw, the ACLU will be up to our gluteus maximus over this one. And have you ever tried to hang a bunch of teenagers off a swing set?”

“I can’t help it if there’s no trees around. The loggers got a hold of them deformed specimens in the back of Gil’s window after getting the Sierra Club to back off. Plus, it’s my show.”

“What’ll we do with Tiki?”

“Hell, send him over to Smidgens. Husband and wife are harmless. Plus they don’t show no private parts. Tiki’ll keep that thing in his pocket fer sure.”

 

Gang, it’s your turn. Me and the rest of the A Team should be done shooting photos and off the planet by the time you can say

Bah

Bah Bah  Bah

Bah Bah

BAH BAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

November 22, 2018

Looks like a flash mob is starting

Hey gang – happy Thanksgiving to all! Its not my day to post, but just like Chase Daniel showed us today, you have to be ready when you’re called upon, and my Bears showed the nation why they are serious Super Bowl contenders a year after being a disaster for 4 straight seasons. So I had plenty of Bears Kool-Aid with my turkey and stuffings, thank you.

Back to the strip– and what better way to spend your holiday then in sunny New Thayer? Wtf is Tiki  doing? Standing in front of an on-coming auto is not the best way to extend your life insurance tables lad. Of course no-one else is outside, except for some kid who recognizes him, and runs across oncoming traffic to accost him. Thats how I wait for word to spread that I’m IN TOWN— by just standing on some shit corner. Of course anyone else who tries this — and I mean the other 350 million humans on the planet– would get absolutely no result of their action, other then to be handed a Salvation Army kettle. So why the fuck would Tiki think he’s any different??

Oh yeah, its Milford. No its not. Its New Thayer. Now what?

 

 

 

November 21, 2018

Help a Buddy Out?

gt11212018

Today’s cameo

By Toshiro Mifune

Which film, I’m not sure

 

Surprised Whigham drew

Recognizable actor

Mudlarks look alike

 

How many of you

Knew that was Bolek next to

Tiki in the caf?

 

“Feeling frisky” is

Euphemism for “horny”

Is it sexy time?

 

Nah. Let’s interrupt

The Kurosawa screening

For some adventure

 

“Help a buddy out”

Will translate into filming

Some wacky hijinks

 

Phone camera vid

Of Tiki getting bullied

Make it go viral!

 

Toshiro would be

As confused as we all are

With what’s going on

 

 

Haiku metapost:

Here’s to our Ned Ryerson

Ten years at the helm

 

How has he done it?

It’s been hard enough for me

To post twice a week

 

Ned is the straw that

Stirs This Week in Milford’s drink

Here’s to ten years more…?

November 9, 2018

Ok now I’ve had it.

Filed under: Coach Kaz, football, What the hell is going on here?, Where is Milford? — robmize2013 @ 10:46 pm

 

Well this tops it all.

A student at a a high school- is being pulled out of a class he is planning to attend to ostensibly learn something in said class — by an assistant football coach–

And ordered to walk OUTSIDE— to tell said football coach —

 

 

WHERE

 

 
HE

 

 

LIVES.

 

 

 

Jesus. Oh yeah I said that yesterday.

Good thing theyre walking on Gods green earth because thats the level of bafflement I’m feeling.

Are you fuckin fuckin kiddin me?

You know what? People say there is other life out there, that we arent the only ones, that there are other solar systems, other planets, other people, other beings, other ecosystems, other whatever.. and I dont really believe that but you can believe what you want. I maintain we’re the only ones, that we must have a perfect distance between us and the sun to survive, etc., and the other planets are either too hot or too cold. Maybe there’s more out there but we’ll never have time to find it.

There exists no planet — none  — that would have this going on.

Not here, not there, not nowhere. Never before, never after. Never period.

And I know that as sure as I’m sitting here with my mouth drooling from being so wide open for 10 minutes.

History is very long, mind you. I was in Buffalo last weekend for the Bears game, and I had time to visit Niagara Falls, and there was a display showing the evolution of the falls, and it started before humans were around.  Millions of years ago.

And we could take those years and double them, and still– there would not be a single day– not only on this earth but on any earth you may feel exists, in your mind or in reality– that the above strip would ever occur– in real life.

And then— after the question is asked of said student– and student answers with not a NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS but with a real answer, a location on GPS, said football coach

ASKS THE SAME QUESTION AGAIN!!

Its complicated?  Thats where we’re at on November 9, 2 months after the season has started, after student (private) records have been filed in the computer system, after practices, games, more practices, more games, and now playoff football in every other stratosphere except– this one.

Gang, we’re now farther away from resolving this matter then we were when we had punter issues.

I could go on forever, but — forever would not be long enough to have this situation – in this strip above me– happen again.

Your turn folks!

 

 

 

 

 

October 30, 2018

Thanks, Marty, I Can Start My Own Matchbox Collection Again.

103018

As fellow TWIMer Vaganova noted about a couple of items that qualified for Pantheon of Mysterious Objects (and, boy, THEY QUALIFIED) , I am weighing in with my own contribution, namely from P1 that’ll get any kid filled with glee. That  Matchbox sedan with custom chrome wheels and vinyl bucket seats and a steering wheel (and a microcosmic  daredevil Evel Knievel in the driver’s seat) could pass for a microphone in any country. I bet Maxwell Smart has a couple in his pocket when battling KAOS.

 

All righty then, so NOW we know that the mystery interviewer yesterday wasn’t Donna Reed’s husband. I know he had a bit of a sardonic twinge to him but nothing like Moon Man himself. And it’s good to have him back needling Coach Thorp about his (loosely speaking)  game strategy, among other things. For 60 years, death, taxes, mutant poplar trees in the background, and Marty’s rapier wit were part of the inductive reasoning process, sure, like the sun rising in the west after 1,000,000 times of doing the opposite, you might see something different (maybe mutant elms) but then again, Nancy and Sluggo might be put up for adoption.

 

And it’s PRETTY DARN SAD when Marty’s caustic side show is now the main attraction. Folks, when I go to the circus, I watch the elephants, not the flunkies shoveling their droppings after they got the audience clapping with approval when . Dumbo sat on his hind legs, begging for a Milk Bone (“Sit, Dumbo, Sit”) . You old-timers remember The Family Circus when they would show their one panel in the Sunday paper but on the side, evidently Bil Keane, the artist (God Bless You, My Man, kept us kids entertained for eons, Jeffy, (Bil’s son, now the artist), keep the tradition alive) , allowed his kids to create some cartoons to the side of the panel and they were entertaining because the little panels made a pun which was published below the little vignette? I always got a kick out them but carrying this to a faltering plotline is infusing a dead horse with unnecessary nutriments. Shoot Mr. Ed, Marty and Gil. Thrust and Parry for this travesty is like watching Jerry Lawler and the Moon Dogs battle it out at the Memphis Coliseum for what’s inside the Trix box.

 

Mimi reading the Sunday Comix in The Milford Enquirer

“Marty Moon and Gil”

Above the caption, a kid named Marty is displaying his butt to all the piranhas in the family aquarium

“Mommy, what happened to The Family Circus? It’s all smudgy and yucky.”

 

 

While I was reading “Parade” in the Milford Sunday Enquirer, I ran across an ad for hearing aids which claimed that loss of hearing leads to Alzheimer’s Disease.

Hmmmmmmmmmmm

Okay, I’ve solved one problem (beat the Hardy Boys at their own game-YESSSSSSSSS!!!!) . Gil’s inept coaching can be solved by upgrading his Beltone. And Mimi will know what to stuff in the stocking at Christmas.

“Boy, what a holiday, Mimi. Apples, candy canes, peppermints, sugar plums, Reese’s 6-Pak Mimi’s, Oreos, Fritos Chili Chips, slice of fruit cake and hearing aids. ’tis the Season.

Now onward to solve another problem and FINALLY capture the Holy Grail.

“Mimi, do you think the kids wrapped my hearing aid in those ties with the Mudlark logo on them?”

“I don’t know”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Oops, I was watching the Monty Python Marathon. Hope they can yank Mimi out of the fireplace. Anyhoo

Great Grandma Maltilda Eleazar Naomi Thorp comes to visit Gil & family.

“Gil, she is an interesting person. And she’s holding up well for 137-years old.”

“Yup, she and Ms. Rizk and Granny from the Beverly Hillbillies were all on the cheerleading squad at the same high school and were in the same graduating class.”

“But I’m a little worried. She got pulled over for a DUI last week in her 1897 Camaro. She also almost drank out of the Glidden Vanilla White paint can, thinking it was milk. Then she backed into the verandah and that’s going to take a month to repair.”

“I understand. We’ll just have to have our meaningless tete-a-tetes at the Milford Lounge until I can get an estimate from Milford Deck & Patio Furnishments. We can put up with the sand volleyball tournaments until then. The Thanksgiving Macy’s Day Parade Double-Elimination Extravaganza will evaporate before you know it and we can talk about your basketball team without a hitch. We can manage a discussion about your 5-game schedule above the juke box, no problem.”

“But how do we solve a problem like Great-Grandma Thorp?”

 

“Good question. I had no answer. Kinda how my coaching’s gone for 60 years. But this was serious.

Sure, I paid the bail. No fun sharing a cell with O.J. or Charles Manson or Sweeney Todd. And that’s I took it as an omen to take charge of her hearing..

At Milford Hearing’s All We Do, they have a wide selection of hearing aids designed to deal with an assortment of problems, from tone-deaf so that you don’t get swept in a nuclear fallout while your hearing aid is in your purse to the ones who just need a boost in their audio functions.

Now, my great-grandmother is living life to the fullest, thanks to the good people at Milford Hearing’s All We Do. We didn’t have to reconsolidate our debt and Granny called the other Granny to have lunch at Granny’s Beverly Hillbilly mansion with Jed and Elly May (Jethro had National Guard duty) . They were planning on reminiscing about their high school days and Granny was even going to share with Granny the photo of them posing with President McKinley before a high school basketball game  when they were cheerleaders. Her hearing sounds fine to me. Priceless.”

 

WHO SHOT COACH SHAW?

At the local precinct, next to the Milford Grand Canyon

“We can rule out Mildred Thorp, Gil’s great-grandmother. Several eyewitnesses saw her at the William Jennings Bryan convention.”

“Who’s he?”

“No idea. As long as he ain’t in Hilary’s Commie party, I’m good.”

“Yeah? Well, Trump  stuck his foot in his mouth again, called us the Mudlacks and Gil is upset. And I still say he’s guttin’ our health insurance…”

 

At The Bucket on a Saturday night after a Milford High School victory in ANY sport

Great-Grandma Thorp is on the soda fountain counter, doing The Charleston to James Brown’s “Get Up, I Feel Like Being a Sex Machine.”

Poetry in motion

The O’Jays “For The Love of Money” is on the jukebox

“Geez, how she can do the Fox Trot on the grill while the cook is flippin’ Bucket Burgers is a minor miracle.”

“Agreed. Her hearing aid is as big as a tuba but she’s rockin’ the night away. Can’t wait till they play ‘I Wonder Why He’s The Greatest Dancer’. I heard she boogies better than Donna Summer.”

 

Today’s headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Reba McIntire Engaged At 63 To O.J.!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Negotiating team making progress on monitoring O.J. while out of jail on their honeymoon.”

 

 

PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC WHITE BOY

PLAY THAT FUNKY MUSIC RIGHT

 

“Grandma, I gotta sit down. I only slept 4 hours cuz I was searching all night for a punter.”

“HORSE FEATHERS!!!!!!!!! You whippersnapper, if I can whip this French horn in my head and do the splits at the same time without ripping my Depends, then you still got some air in the tank!!!!!! Now trip the light fantastic!!!!!!!!!”

 

 

It’s nice to see Gil went to Floyd the Barber to get a haircut. I didn’t know Floyd was adept at usin’ the scissors to shape a Max Headroom mien. But Floyd, I think you’re stretching things if you try this same shearing method on Barney Fife or Otis the Drunk. You gonna go to his cell while O.J. is sleeping and make an attempt? Good luck.

“Oh, Barney, don’t get discouraged. It takes a while for Thelma Lou to get used to radical ideas. I think your hair looks fine. It still within the Mayberry City Code.”

 

Shout out to Lisa Kik, of Prospect, Kentucky, for her 1st Place championship in Special Olympics Bowling. I would also like to remember her father, her grandfather, and grandmother who encouraged her mightily along the way to achievements like this. That’s what it’s all about. It takes a team to win and no better example than right here. Lisa, keep plugging away as you represent America and what it can accomplish if you keep trying. Congratulations, Lisa.

 

In the center of the floor at The Bucket, a Donald Duck voice is eminent

“…Aw, get down, Mama, ya got some moooovvveesss…”

DISCO

DISCO DUCK!!!!

DISCO

DISCO DUCK!!!!

“Gil, I’m amazed at your great-grandma’s imitations. Loved her take on Ronald Reagan.

Somebody yelling “Giddy-up, Grandma, Giddy-up!!!!!!!!!!!” and “Way to jack that hearing aid to turbocharge, Granny!!!!!!!!!!” awakens Gil.

“Huh, what? Oh yeah, Reagan was a great president.”

“Oh, Gil, phooey. You missed the part where they had to send her to the Time-Out Table. She was displaying her Depends while they were playing ‘You Show Me Yours (And I’ll Show You Mine)’ The place was en fuego.”

Thanks to Cheryl Hogan of Louisville, Kentucky for her contribution to the last scenario. Keep livin’, Cheryl. We need you.

 

And just when we were getting settled into a plot of SOME kind, P3 is potentially veering off in ANOTHER DIRECTION. Thorpiverse, there are only 4 points on the compass. We’re not utilizing the 3-dimension Vulcan plan and hoping we land on Deneb somewhere to establish diplomatic relations with its people. Can we leave Dr. Spock out of Milford, for cryin’ out loud? Enough directions in this plot already.

Sure, Coach Stuard (RIP, Coach, you were a HUGE influence on my playing and coaching) used to teach me “Never let ’em see you sweat”, something Gil is saying in P2 and with good reason. And it appears as if we are rapidly approaching normalcy. P3, with Mr. T and his teammmates in a quandary over whether Tiki is on Mars, on a milk carton, or in the bathroom puking out the stress, sends normalcy back on the USS Enterprise for Dr. McCoy to examine. This might be a trekkie mini-series at the rate we’re going.

 

While Great-Grandmother Thorp is performing live with Dino and Frankie, pursuing the Oldies-but-Goldies route, with Killers (trust me) lie “Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime”, “New York, New York”, “In The Wee Small Hours”, “Tuxedo Junction”, “Strangers in the Night”, etc. at The Sands in Milford, Coach Thorp is encountering a bit of a problem.

“$&%@+*/=<>, this machine doesn’t want to spit out anything!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil, you can’t win ’em all.The slot machines will pay off in the long run.”

“Mimi, I’m trying to get M & M’s out of this @%$&*(+=#$% gumball machine!!!!!!!!! That’s the 8th quarter!!!!!!!! Got any more in your purse???????”

 

Gang, it’s all yours. I’m going with the A-Team to look for Tiki. Did anybody check that high school building at the beginning of Funky Winkerbean?

 

“Couple #3, Coach Shaw and Mrs. Coach Shaw, what animal will your wife say best imitates your sexual desire? Is it A) Gorilla B) Donkey C) Raccoon or D) Whale. Coach?

“Most definitely, a gorilla. I go to bed like Tarzan and I am KING OF THE JUNGLE!!!!!!!!! All the other animals in the jungle and in the bedroom are afraid of me!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Well, Tarzan, I hate to break it to you but she answered ‘Whale'”

“Honey, you have a big body, you splash around a lot under the covers, and you smash all the fishies and all my hot flashes with a big SPLAT!!!!!!!!!!! But you never get to the bottom of the ocean!!!!!!!”

“No way you can get to the buried treasure if you don’t dive, Coach Shaw.”

Audience roars with laughter at Eubanks’ last gem. On cue, naturally.

THANK YOU to Matthew Maloney, of Fern Creek, Kentucky, for help with the last comedy idea. Keep chuggin’ at Kroger, Big Guy. You’re not only funny, you keep America working. And strong.

 

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“Mildred Thorp Welcomed Into Rat Pack!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Peter Lawford out after fallout with Frankie.”

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