This Week in Milford

February 10, 2022

You Do The Math: Mike’s Hard Lemonade + Confused Teenagers = Enigmatic Story.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 12:19 pm

Oh, great, Cressa invites Cathy and Hollis to a party where you’d think Gil’s Adventures is going to be on hiatus until they arrive and find out Cressa MIGHT be out in the garage????

First off, before we go any further, I hope you weren’t sleeping when the teachers performed the arithmatic calculations on the chalkboard. If you snoozed when they passed the multiplication tables around, you’re going to be handicapped today. Not that the TWIMer population is not clueless anyway but if you have that slide rule and a 1975 Texas Instruments calculator handy that’s been collecting dust in your closet, you better get it out. Because when they said she was out in the garage, my first inclination, and I’m bettin’ a lot of TWIMers’ inclinations, was that she was getting kissy-faced with someone. Hey, cold garages are rarely a deterrent when it comes to teenagers and romance.

But then I started counting, based upon what numbers we’re given in P1and P2, that being six. And I counted 5 in the room, excluding Cathy and Hollis. I didn’t think the party host was prepared to share 2 Mike’s Diet Hard Lemonade’s with 2 extra people. Cathy and Hollis should have brought their own Canada Dry. Anyway, if Cressa is the 6th person, there’s no way she’d be kissy-faced unless some hobo from a Bugs Bunny cartoon (“Mike’s Hard Lemonade is practically chickens…”) showed up with a thing for Cressa. He got off the Milford & Oakwood where Bugs and that penguin is sleeping while the engineer had to go take a pee and Mr. Hobo snuggled up his scuzz and slime to experience romance with Cressa in a frigid garage while both are sitting on the lawn mower? Kinda sorta doubt it.

So WHAT was Cressa doing out in the garage when they were fighting over the Hard Dr. Pepper? Doing homework? SCRRRRRRAAAATTTTTCCCHHHHHHH. Calling in the Indiana-Purdue wager with the telephone number off of a Snickers wrapper that Pranit handed to her? Double SCRRRRRAAAAAAATTTTCCCCCHHHHHHHH. Filing her nails? Possible but I’m not confident the light was on

“You want some more Hard Dr. Pepper?”

“Nahhhhh, I have a chipped toenail. Is that the garage light switch?”

“No, that’s the basement light. It’s the one next to it.”

You factor in that it’s unlikely Cressa was oiling the hedge trimmer or checking the weedeater for grass stains and thereby denying her indulging in a Hard Cherry Dr. Pepper and we are like Cressa, kinda sorta left in the dark.

Calling in the Cubs’ World Series odds wager with the telephone number off of an autographed Harry Caray on Charmin tissue that Pranit kept in the vaults? Better keep digging.

Rob is going to kill me, Rob is going to kill me…

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Raid At Coach Thorp’s House Produces Little In The Way Of Evidence!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford Police Spokesperson: ‘Outside of some 12-Paks Schweppes Hard Malt, Our Finest were unable to mount a case at Coach Thorp’s euchre party.'”

We are meandering through the month of February with a kid who learned to maintain his gambling addiction from Carter Hendricks and Cathy is trying in vain to convince Hollis that she is the team captain, not General Patton, but now negotiating an abtupt change of direction via The Breakfast Club with a predilection for Smirnoff Tonic & Water. Where is this subplot going besides out in the garage where Cressa is reading Dick Vitale’s Basketball Preview under a table lamp? Conventional wisdom would wrap this up with teenagers sniping at each other because somebody’s mom forgot to purchase the Mike’s Hard Kool-Aid Grape at Milford IGA but we all know Conventional Wisdom versus Thorpiverse is akin to Rocky Balboa versus Egghead. We’ll dilly-dally some more as the teenagers make up for lost desired items by playing Deep Purple’s “Machine Head” over Fritos Chili Cheese and tap water. We can’t have this party turn out a lost cause even if it’s antithetical to basketball proceedings, nosireeeee. We don’t want the queso dip to go to waste.

You might want to send an alarm clock out to the garage in case Cressa oversleeps.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Unflappable Over Milford Parks & Recreation Adult Flag Football League’s Upcoming Drug Testing!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I just had some Schweppes and Ritz crackers for breakfast. No worries from this end.”

The confusion gets worse when your typical TWIMer realizes that P2 is being held in the garage. It is understandable why people would consider the atmosphere in P2 carrying over into P2. The people that Patton is talking to in P1 seem to bear a striking resemblance to the two people on the left in P2. What throws a wrench that is hanging on the wall on the right in P2 is the wrench that is hanging on the wall on the right in P2. It is stated with 100% reassurance that Mom does not use a wrench to bake the turkey nor the kids use one to wash the dishes. Dawn Dishwashing will take care of that.

Therefore, that is Cressa in the garage airing a grievance over Donna Reed not catching the glitch on the Hard Grape Nehi inventory sheet. Now I still hold that T-verse transplanted those teenagers from P1 to present position, utilizing the process of osmosis and prepared to answer questions later in case anyone started snooping around. Granted, this will throw off the count with the six that Donna Reed neglected to take into account when ordering Hard Hawaiian Punch for the five in the scene and especially with the millions of kids that was shown at house the post before but six is six, or six is five in this case. We managed to locate Cressa whether she was clamoring over Hard Dasani Mountain Spring Water or making a pass at Mr. Hobo who feeds on a steady diet of Bugs Bunny’s penguins that Bugs drags back to Antarctica. BTW, that Mysterious Object next to the male on the left could qualify as one of the six. I mean, One of the Slag Brothers from the Wacky Races cartoon could have been invited to the Hard Strawberry Nehi party but I’m unclear if that’s Rock or Gravel. One of them is left-handed and the other ambidextrous, if that’ll help.

Allllllll righty then, Gene Rayburn is back with intent to kick some booty and I am in his corner. You got the stage, Gene

“Dumb Dora was soooooooooo dumb (HOW!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! DUMB!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! WAS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) , she thought Hard_______________ would help water her tulips.”

And leave it to Thorpiverse for leaving us hanging and not tying any loose ends to this travesty. They ought to hang this to the nearest mutant poplar they always display behind Gil’s office but that’s another story. We’re left hanging with Donna Reed playing the maracas on “Sympathy for the Devil” by the Rolling Stones (as the maracas player has never been officially identified to this day) and a few malcontents hungry for Hard Jello-O Pudding Pops. What a party.

And Thorpiverse once again must think that people are that stupid and would only have two cans of Pepsi, Coke, A & W Root Beer, Choc-Ola, Bucket Hard Vanilla Shake, Folger’s Premium Roast in a Can, Great Value Diet Soda, Fresca, Starbucks Latte available at a party where the teenagers are ruling the roost. When I worked at Wal-Mart, our bosses made sure we had plenty of Totino’s Pizza stocked at Super Bowl time. Nobody was going to buy two boxes of Totino’s Pepperoni and 139 cases of Coke and Bud and Pepsi and Miller High Life and expect to live to tell about it at the Super Bowl shindig. But evidently, T-verse must have a trunk that can only fit 2 DiGiorno Pizzas. Efficiency rules the day even if people will be ravenous for a Totino’s Supreme by kickoff.

Today’s Black History Month entry is James Louis Johnson or his stage name, J.J. Johnson, the brilliant trombone player. Johnson started out paying his dues playing in the Benny Carter Band before moving onto Count Basie and his Orchestra. Johnson later became involved in the Bebop Movement that was sweeping the Jazz world in the late ’40’s (Louis Armstrong, raspy voice on “Hello, Dolly”, despised Bebop) and began playing with Dizzy Gillespie and Charlie Parker, the latter having been just released from Camarillo State Hospital (“Relaxin’ at Camarillo”, a Bepop Jazz standard) . Gillespie, great trumpeter that he was, especially with those puffy cheeks every time he blew the trumpet, felt that trombone players were not equipped to handle Bebop. The fast fingering required for Bebop technique was easier to employ on a trumpet (Gillespie) or saxophone (Parker) but Gillespie made an exception with Johnson who was impressed with his virtuoso playing on Jazz classics like “Crazeology”. Johnson later produced two critically-acclaimed albums with the incomparable Max Roach on drums, “Blue Trombone” and “First Place”. He was a perennial Grammy candidate as he also was adept at writing Jazz scores as he was at deftly playing the trombone. Tragically, he committed suicide in 2001 after a long battle with prostate cancer. Yet his music and trombone live on, showing the class and skill that he had for music and life in general. Please join me in saluting a major player in the Black History annals.

Come Monday morning (I’m pretty sure Sunday School is not equpped with a chemistry lab) , everybody has crash-landed down to earth. And are we going to have to deal with Cressa’s hissy fits because they didn’t serve Canada Dry at the prom for the next couple of weeks (a conservative estimate, fingers crossed) ? This kind of stuff gets in her head at game time? She misses lay-ups for lack of ginger ale? Try explaining that one in Coach Mimi’s office after she brewed a fresh pot off her Mr. Coffee. Add Coffee-Mate to this plot, that’ll instill some zest, fer sure. Sorry, Coach, I get up for the game only after I’ve had Canada Dry Cranberry. I’m a beast on the boards that way.

And what kind of inquiry is that, Hollis? It didn’t look like you saw her AT ALL. Do you define “barely” as you saw Cressa’s chunky bracelets through a garage peephole?? Or maybe you saw Cressa lamenting the shortage of The Hard Stuff looking through a telescope while perched on Mrs. Kravits’ roof. And have you suddenly become judge and jury of other people’s affairs? That really wasn’t in the job description when you were appointed team captain. Nobody is expecting you to go out in rural Milford Township to see if Cressa is running a moonshine operation.

“I was hiking out in the woods on my Sunday afternoon hike, Coach Mimi, when I sniffed this godawful odor. I knew squirrels didn’t pass gas THAT strong. Then I saw Cressa behind the Kentucky coffee tree with some empty bottles.”

So the next time you are at your neighborhood state park and you hear rustling in the woods…

“Cressa has just been a terror for the Lady Mudlarks tonight with 23 points, 15 rebounds, and 8 assists, 2 shy of a triple double. She really showed up tonight, unlike yours truly, who’s been AWOL without any explanation. The final score, Milford, 67, Jefferson, 51, I’ll have all the stats after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’ve been listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

“Jiminy Cricket, I’d love to have Cressa on our team. Lord knows, whatever she drank, as long as it’s non-alcoholic, it must have upped her energy level cuz she got game tonight. Only Jesus Shuttlesworth could have done any better and right now he’s hoopin’ it up where Chance Macy is freezin’ his ass off. Oops, I hope WDIG doesn’t get fined.

Anyway, speaking of alcohol, when will The Bucket ever learn? They have rallied their team of lawyers to jump-start another smear campaign against Milford Beverage Warehouse. Hi, this is Coach Thorp, speaking on behalf of The Warehouse and if The Bucket’s attorneys think we are just going to simply hand them the trophy at the Finals of the Playdowns, they’ve been snorting too much Blue Bell Ice Cream Homemade Vanilla.

They lost another bid for The Bucket to get a liquor license and instead of learning from their losses, they decided to take their pouting and whining out on The Warehouse. I can’t help it if some of the petition signstures were illegitimate. Next time, make sure they live there in the trailer park before submitting ghost signatures before the Milford Beverage Commission.

They claimed, falsely of course, that Milford Beverage Warehouse is not dealing in good faith and are transacting at an unfair advantage by selling Hard Lemonade or Hard Nestles Quik to teenagers to get their business. They may not be allowed in the Beer Cave but why let that stop us from dealing under the table and clear a little extra profit. Yeah, buddy, as if our cash registers were in a closet somewhere in the store so the Milford Police doesn’t notice anything suspicious.

But you don’t have to take that stuff from some attorney who barely passed the bar because he forgot to enter his Social Security Number on the answer sheet. And the beauty is, you, the customer, don’t have to get in some opponent’s face to get the win and The Good Life all in one night. You just gotta come in and take advantage of these ridiculous bargains and help finance our rebuttal so that booze, teenagers, and The Warehouse can all be standing tall when the final whistle sounds.

So for every bottle of Knob Creek Kentucky Straight Whiskey at the silly price of $26.99, Milford Beverage Warehouse will drop 10% into our We Don’t Gift-Wrap Hard Nestle Quik To Minors campaign. You have our word, Howard Cunningham can ring up 3 cases of Hard Nestle Quik Vanilla at the register as long as he has his Milford Beverage Warehouse Visa Gold to slide through the machine but Richie Cunningham will only be allowed to buy Doritos Nacho Cheese Chips in the big bags. And to ensure no hard feelings, we’ll even let him buy Lay’s Nacho Dip as long as his allowance covers it.

But hey, desperate times call for desperate measures and when The Bucket took out an ad in the Milford Enquirer claiming they have videotaped evidence that we didn’t card Danny Partridge and the rest of the Partridge Family when they attempted to purchase Mike’s Hard Ovaltine. Boy, I laughed my collective butt on that one. They were on assignment in Jamaica singing ‘A Tribute To Bob Marley’ so there’s no way they could have taken their lunch hour in Beer Nuts aisle here at The Warehouse. Somebody drank too much Hard Ovaltine when they were skewering the lens on the camera.

So we will sweeten the pot by adding another 5% to the cause, setting it aside in our Auxiliary Anti-Libel Mass Movement, for every jug of Maker’s Mark Butternut Aged Premium Whiskey at a steal for $39.99. Come on, customers, we need you. Get in the game, let us work the refs, and we both win in that double overtime victory. Force The Bucket lawyers to watch some more game film.

And if they think they are going to get away with spying on our store to see if we are engaged in Mike’s Hard Lemonade-for-$100 bills negotiations with Greg Brady, then all I can say is ‘What goes ’round comes ’round in Marty Moon’s sex life’. We’re not stupid. When somebody wearing a Goofy mask is slinking behind the 3 Musketeers stand while one of our venerable customers is spending his hard-earned honest dollars on Jim Beam Cinnamon Whiskey for $18.99 and chump change, that Goofy dude diesn’t know that a portion of the proceeds goes to buy lunch for our attorneys who are wasting their time contending in court with amateurs in the booze business. That’s right, your purchase of Jack Daniels will pay for some clerk’s Big Mac. The Bucket better plead ‘No Contest’ before the judge.

Folks, we will never sell any alcohol, either 8% or 80%, to minors. You have our word on that. And the coupon. Come help us fight teenagers-in-adult’s-clothing who throw up in the john everyvtime they sip Mike’s Hard Ovaltine and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

Gang, stop spreading these ugly rumors about me. I did NOT have to walk a straight line to satisfy the Milford Police. I’ve never even added Mike’s Hard Ovaltine to my salad. So there.

But God bless you anyway.

Outside Milford Beverage Warehouse on Super Bowl Weekend

“Who’s that guy with the Fred Flintstone mask behind the Wink Martindale statue?”

“Dunno. Lemme call security.”

February 8, 2022

If You’ll Throw In A Blueberry Pop Tart, I’ll Give You A Triple Double.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 1:20 pm

6:25PM. My partner, Bill Gannon, and I decided to attend the Milford Girls Basketball game. We could stay undercover, get a change of scenery, and maybe get a lead. The case had run cold after we discovered Blubber Butt was in the hospital for potential herpes symptoms. Being indiscriminate with betting and your sexual behavior was bound to catch up with a person sooner or later. And we made it just as the girls were coming to the jump circle in the reserve game. No way we thought Pranit would be stupid enough to sell a betting line to the Jefferson center. Everything seemed above the belt.

Nothing significant that would warrant the attention of a policeman occurred throughout the reserve game outside of Gannon getting called for a double technical when he thought the refs missed the block/charge call. I understood why Bill was upset with the call as the Jefferson player did not appear to have both feet set and was not in the vertical plane and had not established position and thereby had gained an advantage in relation to any contact therewith, incidental or intentional, thereby violating the spirit of the rules that defense is to be played with the feet and not the hands and that within a given area, certain amounts of contact is foredestined to occur given that the Mudlark ballhandler had the potentiality of gaining a clear advantage on her person and attempting an NBA clearout like Shaq used to implement on Rodman or Malone especially after position had been established on both sides. But Milford won and Gannon hid in the faculty rest room until the varsity game so the point was moot.

We were content to ride off into the sunset with a Mudlark victory with Mimi getting all the credit even if she did less than the hot dog vendor on break in the 3rd quarter when Gannon noticed something peculiar towards the end of the game. Two girls were exchanging items we could not confirm to be lawful. Gannon and I couldn’t tell if it was quaaludes or Anacin or Duncan Hines Pineapple Cake Mix. With Coach Mimi in her ostrich-in-Gil’s-butt position, this exchange was done freely and without adult supervision. How coaches could let Arm & Hammer Baking Soda get transacted without accountability was an enigma and making the life of a cop harder. Putting a guy behind bars fot illicit Red Lobster Cheddar Bay Biscuit Mix tradings was no picnic for this man with a badge. For all we knew, they could have been exchanging more than their phone numbers. It was time to go to work.

We waited outside, by the Mudlark Marching Band equipment trailer. It didn’t take long for trouble to walk out the door. After Marty Moon went to his car, these ladies came out in the open.

“Police officers!!!!!!!!!! Hold it right there!!!!!!!!!”

Cressa and Hollis turn around, frightened

“Awwwwwwww right, ladies, you’ve got some explaining to do. What were you giving each other during the game?”

“I told Cressa that if she scored a triple double, I’d give her the rest of my S’mores Pop Tarts.”

“Yeah, Goodfellas always say those things when they pass the hard stuff in a Baggies in the parking lot. You better have a better alibi than that.”

“She’s telling the truth, officers. Here, smell my breath.”

“Goodness gracious, that’s stronger than the lard my mother used to fry on the heat stove when she was making her apple pies. Joe, I think she’s telling the truth.”

“Alright, fair enough. I should run you in on a Section XIX Article 45 “Intentional and Unlawful Dubious Transactioning on School Property with Intent on Malicious Undermining and Malfunctioning and Defacement of the Educational Process” but school isn’t in session. But keep your Pop Tarts out where everybody can see them. Rhubarb included.”

“I’ll have them next to my gym bag every game.”

“Attagirl. Joe, let’s get out of here. I can hear Gil yelling at the refs while they’re loading their bags in the trunk.”

Wasn’t it just yesterday that Pranit was dealing with Goodfellas on whether the Mighty Ducks would win? Time flies when this is no fun. Now we’re in the gym where every practice is a party. I am having a hard time trying to figure out what drill they’re running that allows them to extend the conversation to God-knows-where.

Pete Carril, longtime successful Princeton Basketball coach (SLAM Magazine, a venerable institution on basketball, once noted “Princeton is more than a nerdy bunch of guys that run smart plays-these guys can play”. Couldn’t agree more.) absolutely ABHORRED wind sprints. Once, at his basketball camp, he had all the kids line up and then he asked “How many of you have done sprints?” Several reluctantly raised their hands, bracing for the worst. “Well, you won’t do that here!!!!! Why practice what you won’t use in the game? You WILL be practicing A LOT of cutting and screening.” The kids welcomed the trade-off. Now don’t kid yourself. His conditioning was like Coach Knight’s, grueling and merciless. But his conditioning and practices always had a point.

So I don’t think Cressa and Hollis are getting Carril’d in this practice if they’re able to talk about the weather, the Cubs, John Mengelt’s tackling methods when intentionally fouling the Celtics in the late stages of the game, The Bucket menu, or who will run for President in ’24, they must be in a light jog before Captain Hollis starts practice. C’mon, did you REALLY think Mimi was going to turn over a new leaf and take charge? What ball game are you watching, Gang?

Rob is going to kill me, Rob is going to kill me…

“How many of you have done wind sprints in the past????”

Everybody shoots up their hands

“Well, you won’t be doing that here!!!!!! We will only be working on things we will use in the game!!!!!!!!! Let’s get out to #1 and work on putting!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Thank God, Kaz. I heard these golfing clinics can be tough but gimme a break.”

And what does Cressa mean by frisky???? Conventional wisdom would suggest, given the context of the conversation, she indeed got another knee-draining. But not so fast. We’re adults here, let’s consider other possiblities as long as we’re left hanging on Cressa’s vague generalities.

She could have had an emergency knee implant. Simple, find a recently-deceased individual who had a reputation for strong knees and, presto, before you know it, Cressa has a knee that’s still going strong after 96 years of use. Heck, she might even win MVP of the Valley with that used appendage.

She might have become comfortably numb with LSD. Broaden her horizons. See the whole floor in front of you. Rack up the assists. Aaaaaaa, maybe not. Not with Friday and Gannon in the building. LSD propped next to the Cinnanon Pop Tarts on the bench? John Mengelt not violating the vertical plane will happen sooner. Or Coach Knight attending a Big Ten Referee Fellowship at Denny’s.

I think I’ll stick with the knee being drained. She ‘s shooting better anyway.

Having lived in Indiana most of my life and hearing and reading unconfirmed reports about bobcats in the state, after years in the 1800’s and early 1900’s of being a semi-inhabitant, I was intrigued by a recent article about whether the bobcat is still a fixture in a lot of states. One way to tell was bobcat poop. Not sure what to look for

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Coach Thorp Thought To Have Witnessed Tracks Of Elusive Feline!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I saw poop in my tomato garden that was smaller than a moose but bigger than a titmouse. And I know my wife howls when we have sex but…”

9:15AM, the next day. Gannon and I stopped by Coach Mimi’s office. She was in a conference call with the other Valley coaches over crowd control. They wanted no more incidents such as the New Thayer-Madison game where the militia was called in. Referee clinics was the time to complain.

“I’ll talk with you later. Yes, gentlemen, what can I do for you?”

“Police officers. I’m Sergeant Friday and this is my partner, Bill Gannon. We noticed some strange exchanges between a couple of your players, Cressa and Hollis. Have you ever noticed anything suspicious?”

“Not really but I don’t pry into other people’s affairs. I’m usually in the office when my assistant Hollis runs practice. What I don’t know won’t show up on my tax returns.”

“Ma’am, pardon the intrusion but you can’t be serious. You mean you don’t know about your player’s actions, or students’ actions in general, including Pranit’s gambling binges? The girls have been sharing Pop Tarts and thank Heavens it didn’t graduate to Budweiser Lite.”

“I’m unclear what Pranit’s association with the Milford Mob has to do with Raspberry Pop Tarts.”

“Now you listen here, Coach Mimi!!!!!!!!!!! You and your husband may have gotten away with running the most apathetic coaching ring this side of the Delaware for years but we’ve got our finger on you and we’ll say what’s relevant and what needs to get pitched in Gil’s toilet. Start taking charge and looking into those lockers bigger than your indifference or I’ll book you on a Milford Penal Code Section XXII Article 956(d) ‘Excessive Negligence of Duty In The Line Of Duty With Intent To Distribute Unfavorable Qualifications While on Duty’ faster than you can say ‘They exhumed Principal Ek’s casket overnight’.”

“Can I still schedule my weekend retreat with my husband. He just got out of surgery at Milford Men’s Clinic. He felt like a rubber snake before.”

“Okay, but any more incidents and you’ll be sleeping in a cell with a bunch of snakes.”

Loud strident trombones sail in, indicating fade from the scene.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Insists He Has Documented Credible Evidence Of Bobcat Presence At Milford Condo Suites!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I’m tellin’ you, that couldn’t be bird droppings on my window. Not that lumpy.”

The fist bump is confirmation that this farce will continue until at least the end of February or someone runs out of Pop Tarts. Is Cressa going to get a Betty Crocker Chocolate Bundt Cake if she scores the winning shot in the Playdowns? Drain that knee some more, Cressa, Captain Hollis might endow you with a cheesecake next time. And all you gotta do before you sink your fork into aforementioned comestible is fist-bump. Fair exchange.

At Milford Comedy Caravan

“…and Joe Friday asked me if I knew anything about Pranit’s compulsive gambling habits? And I answered ‘Do you think I look like I’d clean the lint and bobcat poop off your Le Tigre jacket?'”

Dead silence

Suddenly the loudspeaker blares out

DUMMMMMM DA DUM DUM

Short pause

DUM DA DUM DUM

DUMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

The offense is clicking thanks to all the pastries Cressa obtained at Milford Flea Market. And whatty ya know, the crowd doesn’t look aliens from the Disney classic “The Scarecrow of Romney Marsh”. The sign is actually in English. Nobody scribbled something while they were imbibing heftily outside the Milford Beverage Warehouse. We’re making progress here. Really, I’m not prepared for Heather Tarbell to come into Gil’s office to interview wearing a scarecrow mask. It ruins the atmosphere.

In the hallway at Milford High School

“So if you call in and say that IU will beat Southeastern Manitoba State by 10 at Assembly Hall that I will cover the spread-“

POLICE OFFICERS!!!!!!!!!! HANDS HIGH IN THE AIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Pranit and Blubber Butt drop their textbooks

“The gig is up!!!!!!!!!!!! I knew we’d catch you in the act. The betting line has gotten cut off!!!!!!!! There’ll be no more wagering for Ohio Northern University!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gannon, read ’em their rights.”

Gil walks around the corner

“Officers, what’s the charge? They can go online for a free betting service as long as there’s adult supervision.”

“Well, there wasn’t any adult supervision from you. And I have half a mind to run you in on a Milford Penal Code Article VI ‘Contamination of School Property with Foreign Substances and Materials’. Did you buy that cologne at Milford Dollar General on the discount table?”

“I’m afraid Sergeant Friday has a point. My grandfather sprayed something like that when he had to bury one of his horses. You could take a whiff of that stuff all over the county. Farms had to shut down for the day. Cows would give milk that tasted like liver cheese.”

“Look, I know I need to spend less time at Milford Golf Course but leave the kids alone. I’ll make restitution. We’ll do hot potato drills this afternoon.”

“Oh, this one’s a hot one all right.”

Obnoxious flute and tuba crash into the audio

DUMMMMMMMMMM

DA DUM DUM

Pause

DUMMMMMMMMMM

DA DUM DUM

DUMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM

“The story you have just seen is true. The names have been changed to protect the innocent.”

“On March 6th trial was set in the Milford Superior Court for a one Pranit Smith and Gil Thorp. In a moment, the results of that trial.”

At the Thorp household in the front yard one lovely Sunday afternoon

RISING UP, BACK ON THE STREETS

DID MY TIME, TOOK MY CHANCES

WENT THE DISTANCE, NOW I’M BACK ON MY FEET

JUST A MAN AND HIS WILL TO SURVIVE

“Eye of the Tiger” by Survivor is blaring ten decibels above normal range out of the transplanted speaker in the garage. Gil is in the front yard in nothing but his boxer shorts with Valentines on them. He is on his 987th sit-up.

Mimi and the kids barge out the front door wondering what is transpiring. They were absorbed 5 minutes before in a game of Sorry!

“Mommy, all the neighbors are looking at Daddy. Even Mr. Kravits has a shotgun.”

“And I’d use it too if it were in my hands. Gil, get back inside!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You’re embarrassing me and the kids in front of the whole neighborhood!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“No way, Honey!!!!!!!!! I am tired of boxing Apollo Creed with a limp piece of licorice. I will not go to bed another night and suffer a TKO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I AM GOING TO GET THE EYE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

IT’S THE EYE OF THE TIGER

IT’S THE THRILL OF THE FIGHT

RISING UP TO THE CHALLENGE OF OUR RIVAL

AND THE LAST KNOWN SURVIVOR-

“Mommy, I can see poop stains on the back of Daddy’s underwear. Does he wipe when he goes poopie?”

“Keri, he won’t survive when I wipe him out, rest assured. Gil!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You march your butt in here now before I stick a size 12 up your hind end!!!!!!!!!! The police will be here anytime!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Gil is on his 354th push-up

“Let ’em call Adam-12 for all I care!!!!!!!!!! I am going to get the eye!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No more walking into the jungle to confront a Bengal with a boner the size of an eraser!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m tired of Gummi Bears getting harder than me!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Gil, if you’d use that EREC-5609 Double Gel Lotion that I had FedEx’d a couple of days ago, there’d be no need for this. Now please get in before we get a summons for disturbing the peace.”

Gil is doing 876 French curls with the riding mower

“Mimi, my time to confront Ivan Drago may never come again. And I don’t want to fight the Cold War with an ICBM that’s a dud when we go under the sheets. Sex with no atomic blast ain’t my style!!!!!!!!!!”

FACE TO FACE, OUT IN THE HEAT

HANGING TOUGH, STAYING HUNGRY

THEY STACK THE ODDS ‘TIL WE TAKE TO THE STREET

FOR THE KILL WILL THE SKILL TO SURVIVE

“Now clear out of my way, Woman, I’m going to run 621 times around the block!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Mommy, I’m going to go put on my Barney Rubble Underoos and go run with Daddy!!!!!!!!!!! I’m going to get The Eye too!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“JAIME, DON’T YOU DARE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Gil, I’m warning you!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! If you don’t come in, you not only won’t get The Eye or my love, you’ll be doing it alone tonight on the grass in the back yard!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

…AND HE’S WATCHING US ALL WITH THE EYYYYYYYYYYYEE OF THE TI-

The stereo suddenly stops stone cold

“Mommy, some squirrel is chewing on the wire.”

“My boxers were itching anyway. I rubbed some of that lotion on my private parts and you talk about feeling like a tiger. Mimi never stood a chance. And with treatment programs that work, isn’t it time you regained The Eye? Your chance to slay Tony the Tiger has never been better here at Milford Men’s Clinic. Put the animal back in your sex life and send Erectile Dysfunction back to the jungle. Only at The Clinic.”

No, really, they let scarecrows in to watch the game. They have for 60 years, anyway. But God bless you, Gang.

“Scarecrowwwwwwwwssssss

Scarecrowwwwwwssssssss

The stands of Milford gym were full of theemmmmmmmm…”

“The Milford Superior Court considered the charges of 27 counts of Reckless Tomfoolery for a one Gil Thorp and 1,563 counts of Wanton Pseudo-Gambling Infringement for a one Pranit Smith not even punishable enough under the Milford Penal Code to warrant the court’s attention as the cases were considered a travesty and ill usage of the court’s time. The cases were transferred to the Milford School Board for a hearing. The findings sentenced Mr. Thorp to curtailment of Vacation Days, at least for 7 days but not extending beyond 14 days. Mr. Smith was sentenced to Denial of Access to the School Library Computer for at least 2 weeks but not extending past 1 month. He was also ordered to pay all his library fines by cashier’s check.”

Gil Thorp and Pranit Smith are currently serving their sentences

February 1, 2022

Cut This Wagon And Run Along.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 11:22 am

dumb

dumb

Dumb

Dumb

Dumb!

Dumb!!

DUMB

Let this go, Gil

Got this wrong

Cut your losses

And run along

Where we goin’

We don’t know

Where is it headin’

We ain’t certain

All we know

This plot has lost its wayyyyyyy

I am still recovering from watching “Paint Your Wagon” for the umpteenth time and still amazed that Lee Marvin and Clint Eastwood actually SANG in the movie, a bit out of character given their careers, although both carried a respectable tune. Really, nobody overdubbed them, they actually sang the number and more than held their own.

In the end, this plot reminds me of Dirty Harry at The Milford Diner that was being robbed but Dirty Harry blows away all the 106 gunmen at The Diner, a la Bruce Lee kicking some schmuck in the nuts while the other 105 schmucks wait their turn (“Oh, am I in?”) , then points a gun at the last gunman who has Maureen’s neck in a vice grip and himself has a gun pointed at Maureen. Then after Dirty Harry dryly says “Go ahead, make my day”, he breaks out in a chorus of Oklahoma that would make Gordon McRae proud. Paint your wagon, Gil.

Then Hollis makes an interesting comment

“Cressa, I know your knee has a big hole in it after Dirty Harry shot a Magnum at it but you can jump higher than that. Girl, we need you to box out and sky so the other team isn’t getting 2nd and 3rd shots. See me for extra rebounding drills Monday after Coach Mimi goes home. Put some ice on it in the meantime.”

As the readers have mentioned, granted, Hollis is captain but she isn’t judge and jury. What’s Cressa going to do, stuff that knee with mulch and hope it settles before the next tip-off? And Hollis, if there’s no mulch in the shed, I can always tear the cushion out of my pillows and cram them in the patella. I’ll be standing tall well into the second quarter or Mimi bitches about a correctable error, whichever comes first.

Speaking of Mimi, where IS Mimi in all this? Coach, if a player is hobbling the entire game, you know she’s not dancing a disco number. Imagine John Travolta on crutches. She’s moving like all those yahoo’s in rhythm with Sheb Wooley’s “Purple People Eater” and you assume it’s because her shorts itch too much? Hollis evidently replaced Peppermint Patty as stand-in coach after Mimi took sabbatical down at Coffee Cantina. We’ll see you in the ER at Milford General after Cressa popped her leg off from all the gangrene, Mimi.

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Inspector Callahan Safe After Standoff At Milford Federal!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“Milford Police Chief: ‘Thank goodness, the girl0s basketball team bus was passing through. It ran over at least three thugs by an unofficial count.'”

I like the crime-before-the-crime format Dirty Harry has always employed (Make My Day incident fits that description) . With that in mind

At The Bucket in a robbery attempt

BLAM BLAM

A couple of thugs go down

BLAM BLAM BLAM

The getaway car rams into a booth where Doug and Vic are exchanging NASCAR stories

BLAM

Gil has his shoulder blown off lying on the ground at The Bucket entrance but his good shoulder can reach a sawed-off shotgun.

“Uh uh uh”

Dirty Harry has other ideas

“This is a Magnum and it’ll blow that blow-dried hair clean off when I pull the trigger. But in all this excitement, I lost count. Was it 5? Or was it 6? Do you feel lucky, Gil?”

Gil is thinking about his golf date this afternoon with Tod Andrews

“Well, do you?”

Gil withdraws the hand and hair

Dirty Harry takes the shotgun

“Hey.”

Dirty Harry turns around

“I gots ta know.”

Dirty Harry throws a stale Bucket Burger at Gil

Gil will wind up in Hades cussing and with no shoulder

And what is Captain Hollis REALLY saying?

“Cressa, I’m sorry if your dog got run over and your mom got dragged away by PLO terrorists and I’m sorry you didn’t have lunch money for extra pizza slices and Nicaragua dropped an atomic bomb on El Salvador and you didn’t clean out the garage and now it’s got bugs running everywhere and you suffer from acute B.O. and you lost your eye in the war but you’re going to have to up your game. Or I’ll rat on you to Coach Mimi.”

If ya use yore garden hose that ya use ta water yore petunias ta drain all the fluid outta yore knee and ya dump the contents down the sewer in yore alley way, ya might be a redneck.

The answer is just as bad as the question. No problem, Captain Hollis, let me puke out that Wendy’s Double that didn’t agree with me and I’ll be toe-to-toe with the other team’s leading scorer. Yeah, buddy. It’s no problem, let me put my pelvic bone back in its socket and I’ll run that 3-on-2 better than Cousy and Havlicek. No sense in sweating the small stuff. Once I stuff my medulla oblongata back in the cranium, the refs won’t notice.

Cressa, anybody who has ever endured Drain-and-Play scenarios knows it’s not always as simple as flush it down the toilet, then go check in at the scorer’s table. You have to take responsibility and tell Coach Mimi before this gets worse. And it will. Not that Coach Mimi is going to intervene until Heather Tarball shows up with a photographer where Coach Mimi looks like she is carrying Cressa out of intense combat at Da Nang but better late than never, I suppose. You might even get a Purple Heart. There are times when sucking it in might permanently pop a knee out of joint. Heather Tarbell is not noted for photographing torn ligaments.

Gotta dream, boy

Gotta song

Paint your wagon

This putt’s not strong (sung by Gil)

Rather be in Hong Kong (sung by Peppermint Patty)

Knee looks like King Kong’s (sung by Cressa)

Here’s some Hostess Ding Dongs (sung by Captain Hollis)

Where are my thongs (sung by Mimi)

Did a steamroller come in and run over the front side of the bus? Gee whiz, no wonder why it took so long to get home. The bus was in low gear after Dirty Harry used his Magnum on it when the bus was recently used in an athletic equipment heist. Milford Body Shop was able to do damage control. Dirty Harry read the rights of the goons trying to steal the wrestling mat and we went on with life. Just get the bus to Grease Monkey for an oil change and it’ll practically be good as new.

In Dr. Pearl’s office at 10AM one weekday

“I heard rumors that you are married to somebody else besides Mr. Dr. Pearl?”

“Gil, he became an invalid and died two months later after Mr. Capone gunned him down. I never annulled it at the time when Mr. Dr. Pearl and I went to the Milford Justice of the Peace-did you finish those Referee Payroll W-2 reports?”

You THINK that P3 is full of good intentions but we all know that the Road to Milford is filled with such intentions. What started out innocently enough is heading to Milford in a handbasket right quick.

And I hate it when somebody says “I don’t mean to pry” like Cathy is basically saying to Captain Hollis. I am sniffing Benita Buttrell BIG TIME in this one

“Girl, did you see Cressa do leg lifts with a Jeep? If she ain’t got no mo’ sense than Gil when he’s skinny-dippin’ with molasses in the washtub in his backyard, she deserves to ride the bench longer ‘n’ Judge Judy. But I ain’t one to gossip so ya ain’t heard it from me.”

“Cathy, actually she was lifting with a Toyota Corolla.”

And what is Captain Hollis going to do if Cressa keeps emptying her knee into the public pool? Sure, snitch on Cressa to Coach Mimi. What is Coach Mimi going to do? Get out the switch if Cressa keeps draining her knee? Several kids have gotten the paddle with Gil as a witness when they went to the nurse for one knee fluid deposit too many. You got comfortably numb? You’re grounded.

Again, to quote Benita, Captain Hollis to Coach Mimi

“Lordy, Coach, I saw Cressa go to the School Nurse and they went into the faculty bathroom with that machine. All I know is it had more tubes than a load a’ Tootsie Rolls. And my goodness gracious, Cressa walked out with blood stains all over her Levi’s, I didn’t think she was blowing her nose and the machine was redder than Coach Knight when he’s chawin’ on the ref. And the creditor sent in The Mob to repossess the machine. I wouldn’t want all them blood stains on my Sunday dress when I play the Doxology on the organ. But I’m not one to gossip, Coach Mimi, so you ain’t heard it from me.”

What’s on this site stays on this site, Benita.

“We have a problem brewing as Cressa’s leg slipped off and slid under the bleachers. We have an official’s time out as they call the maintenance crew to retrieve the merchandise. We’ll take a break with the score, Milford, 33, Goshen, 23, with 6:34 left in the third quarter. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

“Good Lord, I hope they find Cressa’s leg. It’s hard to run the 3-on-2 break when you’re just hoppin’ along. Did you ever try to get your butt out when blocking out? It’s agony, rest asssured.

But I didn’t walk into WDIG studio to talk about Cressa locating her shinbone in the Lost & Found. Dirty Harry had to come and abort a potential robbery at Milford Beverage Warehouse. Believe me, I don’t ever want to be a warm-up for another Dirty Harry sequel again and neither do the owners at The Warehouse. Fortunately, no one was injured, the punks are behind bars, and they didn’t harm the Wink Martindale statue. Personally, I hope they Book ’em Dan-O the vandals who dare spray-paint an institution of the Joker’s Wild.

But that’s beside the point. You, the customer, are entitled to stress-free shopping and The Warehouse will ensure that the only business Al Capone has in the store is to buy Fritos Chili Cheese. That’s why for every day we go without a crime committed at The Warehouse until the end of February will knock a dollar off your favorite booze. I’m not good at algebra but that definitely makes my day. Baby, baby, I don’t mind sipping on Evan Williams Kentucky Straight Bourbon for $20.99 because Dirty Harry hired Rambo to watch the property.

And if no shoplifters come in and raid the Beer Cave, The Warehouse will pass the savings on to you with an extra 50 cents per week per bottle and/or per 6-Pak and/or per 12-Pak. Hey, Inspector Callahan can’t shoot them all in cold blood so it’s up to you as the customer to report any illegal activity to the store detective and if those punks are convicted, The Warehouse will throw in a free bag of Lay’s Sour Cream Potato Chips. Nice to get a Budweiser 12-Pak and some Milford Vending Guacamole Dip for your chips, knowing you did your civic duty.

As a bonus, we try to keep our store clean of street gang symbols. If you report a baddie marking all over the Captain Morgan Rum cooler, The Warehouse will reward you handsomely with a $25 Milford Beverage Warehouse gift card. Come send a scumbag to jail and get your La Marca Prosecco della Italia con Brio e Lasagna for what you would pay at Milford Foundry Cafeteria at lunch. If that doesn’t keep Wink’s statue clear of graffiti and dog poop, nothing will.

What more do you need? We’re in a giving mood and are presenting you with everything but Harry’s Magnum. Come steal these bargains legally at Milford Beverage Warehouse and tell ’em Coach Thorp sent ya.”

Man, this plot is worse than draggin’ your false teeth through a nutmeg grinder. I’ve seen worse performances on The Gong Show. I understand ol’ Gil once bribed Chuck Barris to play “Purple People Eater” on his kazoo. Chuck told him that was the only thing worse than his coaching. Or his sex life. Mimi privately told me that in a booth at The Bucket while ordering Bucket Clam Chowder. And ooooeeee, her breath was horrible after she ate that stuff. I needed to hand her my Eau de Cologne bottle because I didn’t have any Breath-Mints in my purse. But I ain’t one to gossip, Gang, so you didn’t hear it from me.

And God bless you.

At Milford Police Station

“Callahan, you need to use more discretion with your gun. What makes you so sure that this was domestic violence?”

“Look, when I see Gil in his birthday suit chasing after Mimi with nothing but a butcher knife and a wee wee longer than a footlong at Subway, I figure he ain’t collecting for the Milford High Athletic Fund.”

Where is this goin’

We don’t know

When will it get there

We ain’t certain…

January 31, 2022

Mostly Tart Talk

Filed under: huge earrings, Milford Idiots — nedryerson @ 4:39 am

Captain Hollis Talley and Cressa Baxter share knock off Pop Tarts on the bus ride back to Milford. I haven’t eaten a Pop Tart in a long time. When I was inclined to eat those things, I preferred cinnamon. I tolerated the fruit filling ones too, but cinnamon was next level. I considered it almost sacrilegious to eat a Pop Tart cold. You really need heat to open up the flavor of the filling as well as the frosting on the outer surface. I’d rather eat a plain piece of white bread than a cold pop tart. I guess if I was stranded on an island and a carton of Pop Tarts washed up or running from zombies in an apocalyptic future and starving, I came across a supply of Pop Tarts, I would eat them. But if I want to select an unhealthy snack to stick in my bag for eating on the go, I’d pick from a million other power bars/protein bars (that are probably about as nutritious as a candy bar). Keep this in mind if you ever plan on bribing me on a bus trip.

What is this cold Jiffy Tart conversation about? Oh yeah, Cressa doesn’t want to disclose a potential knee injury to Coach Thorp because she doesn’t want to lose playing time or see the trainer. Well, that’s just stupid. Hollis should slap the uneaten half of that cold assed Jiffy Tart out of Cressa’s hand and tell her so.

January 29, 2022

Three blondes, two toaster pastries, one hairdo

The Trevor Lawrence has caught on like wildfire among the Valley kids: first it was Gabe Landau, then it was Valley Tech’s #11, and now it’s Junior Birdgirl here who’s rocking the stringy blonde locks. Low maintenance, especially when you’ve gotta futz around with those ginormous earrings before and after each game. Takes less thought to draw, too.

Speaking of less thought, Whigham went through some mental gymnastics to come up with today’s product placement. I reckon it went something a little like this:

What is it with Milford kids and free food? No, seriously. Offer up free eats and these kids will do almost anything, even play in a ridiculous organized pick-up softball game. We’ve seen hints thrown that some families in the Valley aren’t very well off or are struggling financially (Aaron Aagard and his mom, the Jansens, the Karennaninas, the Clarks, maybe the Smiths). Is food insecurity a thing there? There are planty of restaurants and bars, S-marts and Speedcos, but have we ever seen a grocery store in Milford? It is kinda Rust Belty there, so food insecurity could be a lurking subtext in Gil Thorp. But I digress. (The things your mind wanders to when you’re snowed in.)

Hollis is trying to ease into the leadership role conferred on her as captain, plying Cressa with off-brand toaster pastries in an effort to find out why she’s not playing as well as she did last season. How well did Hollis play last season, btw? Was she even in Milford? Usually someone who gets chosen to lead has some combination of recognized experience, talent and, well, leadership ability. Hollis and her appointment to Colorado Springs showed up on the scene fully formed like Athena from the head of Zeus.

Will Hollis lead by example, by encouraging Cressa with constructive criticism, a pep talk and a Pop Jiffy Tart, or by busting her chops like a doolie? That’s the cliffhanger we’re left with today. Time to go break out the snow blower. Hope the rest of you don’t have to. teenchy out.

January 28, 2022

Landry Confusion

Filed under: ?, actual action, basketball, Colorist Error, What the hell is going on here? — robmize2013 @ 8:49 pm

Some exciting girls hoops action results in a Milford win even though they act like theyre behind forcing a bad shot that misses so they win. Who plays for who? Does Landry Carlson play for Valley Tech? Who has all-purple uniforms anyway? What kinda shot is that in P2 that rockets off the backboard so hard it misses the rim completely? I remember throwing a ball off the backboard in that manner so I could catch it and dunk it at my neighbors 7-foot rim. But thats a pretty weak effort for a last shot, even though its meaningless in context since they were ahead anyway. Does the strip writer even read his own dialogue?

P3- back on the bus as all’s well that ends well– why would someone have toaster tarts after a game like that? Dont they have to be heated or something? Funny how Cressa who got beat on the baseline is wearing the same color jacket as her uniform. Maybe Carlson plays for Milford and on defense forced a wild shot? Ah, thats it. But confusing nonetheless.

And how is Milford wearing purple and the opponent dressed like they usually dress??

I’m running out of question allotment. Fire away with your answers gang!

January 15, 2022

Who’s trying and who’s fine?

Filed under: Boredom in Milford, Gil Thorp, huge earrings, Milford Weirdos, Mimi Thorp — robmize2013 @ 2:28 pm

Yes its Saturday and this is the Friday post– had too much to do yesterday after work and with this weekend being a holiday for me I figured why not just do this on Saturday? (After I take down the Christmas tree, run errands and do some laundry.)

P1– I assume Cressa is fine and Maddie is trying. Is Maddie trying to be fine or be a better captain? Or both? Is Mimi also trying or is she fine? Either way she looks way too worried about the state of affairs 3 games into the season then she should be.

P2– and P3– we have the guys sitting at lunch and one of em proudly displays his first bet on SportsDuke. Well gee. All it is is a bet, dipwad. The time to strut your stuff is when you have your first WIN on SportsDuke. Who shows someone their phone when they make a bet? Yeah, these guys.

At least theyre doing 2 storylines at once and giving both genders equal treatment. How much money will be blown by the SportsDuke gamblers this season relative to their winnings? I was on one site where you had to have a minimum amount in your pot to be allowed to bet. I basically only gamble on the Triple Crown races and the Super Bowl, so its not like Im always on these sites, but hopefully these high school dudes have the means to blow money like that because the odds will catch up to them eventually and good luck asking their parents for a raise in their allowance after SportsDuke sucks away all their savings for college. Better concentrate on that basketball scholarship as well.

January 13, 2022

Even Plots Have Permanent Off Nights.

Filed under: Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 2:02 pm

We were expecting Hollis Talley, in accordance with her Air Force outlook on things, to take this runaway bull and drag it back to the corral where it belonged. But nooooooooo, Cathy Sasaki is becoming the new Barry Bader and flouting her sniveling snot mentality on parade. Want a little more cheese and a Bucket Shake with that whine, Gil?

And she is rolling out the laundry list today. Cressa Baxter was Michael Jordan last year but Hank Finkel this year. Man, if she’d have practiced rolling that tractor tire in the mud a few more reps, she might have been able to back down the New Thayer center all night. And Maddie Bloom is super in practice but chokes like a bad muffler in the game. I knew we were in for a long night when she couldn’t even bank one in during the lay-up drill. Rebound drill was atrocious. She almost ran into the water fountain trying to track one down. Landry Carlson needs to file her nails cleaner. And use Breath Mints. We don’t want the refs to make her sit a possession until she gets that halitosis out of her mouth.

Really, Cathy should have asked the question the other day about leadership. How can I be the worst pain in the butt and grate the readers’ and my teammates’ nerves and grate in such a way so I sound like Dino yapping to Fred at feeding time? What can I do to sound off in the bus and act like a horse’s ass doing it and still get Coach Mimi on my side? Breast-beating to issues that really won’t help in the Valley Conference race but sounds good and harping on a teammate’s cologne or another teammate’s failure to air the ball up properly intensifying my desire to breast beat even if Coach Mimi has told me to put a lid on it 8 times? Cathy, keep asking the question, just do it in the back of the bus and let the rest of the readers sleep in peace.

Oh, and Corina Karenna should pass the ball more. And wear better sneakers. Those rags apparently went through the dryer after she walked the entire length of the Great Wall of China in them and the squirrel running the dryer keeled over of a heart attack. Wait a minute, Corina is in New York. Oh well, I need to stay in character. Hollis and Mimi aren’t doing anything but SAYING they’re a leader. Talk is cheap and so are Corina’s sneakers.

Today’s Headline in the Milford Enquirer

“Cathy Sasaki Denied Filing For Candidacy On Library Board!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“They couldn’t handle my constant inventory methods plus my insistence they remove Milford Statistical Quarterly from the shelf.”

The bus arrives to Milford High and it appears Thorpiverse wants you to get acclimated to a campus feel. So the buildings straight ahead on the surface look part of that campus atmosphere T-verse is attempting to convey. But then M.C. Escher rears its ugly head and suddenly we are faced with a portion of that atmosphere, the middle part, that looks either to be the wall of the first building venturing into the background or looks to be the weirdest catwalk within a 50-mile radius between the two buildings. Do you go up the downstairs or down the upstairs? At least windows were installed in case we lose perspective and panic. God knows I would not want the sun to be upside down when I’m looking outward. And don’t even hope it rains. Watching a deluge when drunk with Escher, no wonder why the ladies are clueless, even if Mimi can’t bail out and blame inverted structures for her incompetent coaching. That’s going down with no upside soon. Maddie can blame bad free throw shooting for being in that hallway too long but Mimi can’t blame her misguided play-calling on the bus getting bent out of shape once it enters the friendly confines. You might as well blame your Magic Marker, Mimi.

“No, really, Mr. White, anything here at The Bucket is free. You just take your time and order when you’re ready.”

“How about a Bucket Clam Chowder as an appetizer with plenty of Frank’s Hot Sauce dumped in?”

“Your wish is our command, Mr. White.”

Oh brother. Famous last words. Let Coach Mimi handle it. WHO the heck called for this practice which in itself did indeed show incentive but had to be called by Frick and Frack as Coach Older Frack went home, oblivious to nothing else than her grocery shopping list? Yeah right, as soon as she gets out of the Beer Cave at Milford IGA to get Gil’s favorite booze, she’ll sit down and sort out who was doing extra wind sprints. Once she gets the kids out of day care, she’ll work on making rebounding drills more interesting. And woe unto those who dog it. As soon as Coach Mimi leaves the Bridge Club meeting held monthly at Coffee Cantina, taking her lime cappuccino along with her, she will hunker down and separate the wheat from the chaff. She might even have to cut the player. If she buys a lime cappucino for you while you’re sitting in her office, you better brace yourself because the largesse is a precursor to some bad news. Your attitude sucks and so I’m letting you go. Don’t forget to take your cherry bagel with your cappuccino on the way out.

Special Edition to the Milford Enquirer

“O.J. Refuses To Endorse Sasaki’s Ascension To The Milford Parks & Recreation Board!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

sub headline

“I didn’t like her position on playing venues. Playing Flag Football on the Milford Elementary Soccer Field just to save a buck won’t cut it with me.”

SHE’S AWARE OF THE SITUATION???? SINCE WHEN???? Just because she is bitchin’ and bawlin’ about the team record doesn’t mean she knows THE REASON FOR THE RECORD.

When I was coaching in Babe Ruth Baseball, there was a coach carryin’ on one day and when our League President cornered him to ask what’s wrong, this coach complained about how his teams in the past just ran over the competition but now were losing more than usual and he couldn’t understand why his teams just couldn’t simply walk on the baseball diamond and just win.

Our president’s answer was priceless

“Coach, you have 1 manager, 2 assistant managers, and 15 players from the other team making sure you DON’T win.”

Mimi, you need to touch base with your players. Not go home and cry about how you don’t get no respect. You need to be at practice FIRST before you start worrying about respect. Plus, there’s 1 coach, 2 assistant coaches, and 15 players from New Thayer (or designated Valley Conference team in this case) out there to prevent you from winning. You can’t just Mimi your way on the court, especially after you’ve non-Mimi’d practice or even at a couple of games when, say, Corina was running the show.

So go handle your one player’s problem with her braces and suggest an orthodontist by giving her a phone book. . Pat a Mudlark Lady on the fanny when she picks up all the towels after the student trainer upped and quit. Buy a Diet Coke for your guard when she makes that extra pass. Just be there so you CAN handle it.

If yore coach finally shows up at yore 8th grade softball tournament after he done got posted bail for his 3rd DUI and is declared sober by the league to coach yore team, ya might be a redneck.

Everything is accounted for in P2 but what is that alien monster in the lower left hand corner? Early indications would say the Beef-a-Roni/Beef-o-Ghetti Monster of the ’70’s. How did it get off the bus and/or escape Cathy’s venom? It really couldn’t hide under the seat. Either way, you want to have practice for screening, with their girth, I’d be practicing setting screens on the whole New Thayer starting lineup. Lay-ups will be a cinch.

But then we get to where Mimi and Gil are crying in their beer and have the merchandise to cry with. Foster Brooks couldn’t have designed this vignette any better in P3; the only thing missing is the crying towel and Mimi may have that crammed up her butt in case her eyeball gets too lachrymose and her eye explodes out of its socket like it’s on the verge of doing in her kitchen.

And Gil has that “I was only going to ask where’s the pear that was in this fruit bowl next to me” look on his face. Sorry, Mimi, I know your team sucks. The Valley officials are pathetic. Where’s the remote? I was going to watch Wild Kingdom.

Just put your eyeball back in the socket and suck it in.

“And the final score, New Thayer, 68, Milford, 59. Too little, too late as New Thayer showed tonight why they were the favorites to win the conference. And all that extra time of Coach Mimi not being in the gym working with her players evidently did not pay off. I’ll have final stats after these messages. This is Marty Moon and you’re listening to WDIG, a division of Learfield Sports.”

At the Thorp household at 4:45PM, Sunday

“The other night, they were playing our song

Been out of coaching not too long

GETCHA BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bow bow bow ooooooppp”

“Daddy, I gotta pee pee baddddddddds. Open the door.”

Gil, with the shower head blasting full steam ahead, is oblivious to Keri’s protests

“For sixty years, I have had no clue

But that never stopped me from jumping on you

GETCHA BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bow bow bow oop”

Mimi can hear Gil’s awful rendition of Beach Boys “Getcha Back” even with the smoothie blender at full capacity in the kitchen. Enough is enough

“Gil, what is your problem? Keri’s head is swimming and I don’t want her watering my tulips again.”

“No problem, Honey. This Nestle Quik Male Enhancement Chocolate Drink Mix that I mail-ordered from Milford Wholesale Warehouse has me in a lather which is the idea. But the directions recommended taking cold showers and singing your ass off to your favorite hip-hop to further drive home the point. I hope you don’t mind chocolate on my breath because I’m driving home the point tonight in bed.

My thing was limp as Cool Whip in the bed

Tonight I’m gonna show you that it ain’t dead

GETCHA BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

Bow bow bow oooooop”

“Gil, get your butt out of the bathroom now before I throw some Bad Vibrations at you. Keri needs to go now and if she pees on the floor, you’re cleaning it up!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Oh Dammit Woman!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’ve been freezing my ass off the last hour and a half and I intend to raise my game to peak performance. I’ll be Goose Givens and his UK Wildcats all over Duke in the ’78 Championship!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’m even gonna cut down the nets.”

“Mommy, I’m going to get some Nestle Quik Strawberry out of the cabinet and drink a gallon of that stuff. I wanna get some Good Vibrations just like Daddy and practice humping on Keri’s Cabbage Patch Dolls.”

“JAIME, DON’T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Though we’re hopelessly stuck in last place

I’ll be up and down at a feverish pace

GETCHA BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bow bow bow ooooooop”

“Gil, did you even read the fine print on the package? It says product is non-refundable. You won’t be singing GETCHA BACK to the money order you sent.”

“She was right. And Nestle Quik and Male Enhancement Formula is like dumping Pepto-Bismol on popcorn. So I ate the charges and marched down to Milford Men’s Clinic to get my Good Vibrations without having to take showers in the Arctic Ocean. With treatment programs that are sure to please, isn’t it time for some Good Timin’? Come get some Fun, Fun, Fun at Milford Men’s Clinic today.”

Gang, that isn’t Nestle Quik Caramel that Mimi’s drinking out of the bottle. I’ve never know Nestle Quik to jerk an eyeball out of my head. I’ll admit it can make you a little hyper but you should be in one piece after drinking.

But God bless you anyway.

“When I was at a kid at the playground

I pretended that I wrestled you to the ground

GETCHA BACK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bow bow bow oooooop”

“Gil, get out of the shower. I have a meeting tonight for my class reunion at Coffee Cantina.”

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