11/19/09

11/20/09

11/21/09

You may have thought this blog was posting less frequently, but really, it’s an optical illusion:  I’m posting at the exact same rate, it’s just that the comic itself is moving slower. A normal narrative that should have taken perhaps a day to portray instead moves at the speed of a glacier taking a nap.

About the only important thing we learn here is that Valerie and her father with the very odd dream live in a giant tree. At least now we know what family this kid belongs to.

11/23/09

Whoa, hold on! That other plot was moving waaaay too fast. Instead, it’s time for some fuzzy math:

Let’s see, if Gil is half-right about Central being better than 2-4 and Milford being 3-3, and then his team easily wins 41-20, that makes:

(2-4)C x (3-3)M/(41-20)EZ=1/2G?

If we divide by the number of players getting on their knees for the ref, then solve for Gil’s interest in staying for the whole game, that gives us…way more work than has ever been assigned here at This Week in Milford. Since it’s more fun to go out and celebrate, let’s find something exciting to do, like finding the tree Valerie lives in and slowly chopping it down with a bat.

11/17/09

11/18/09

I dunno about you, but I’d much rather be following the adventures of “Deion Brand, Band Geek ™!” than ever have to see Mini-mar again.I think what has been particularly frustrating about recent featured characters in this strip is that they don’t have any redeeming qualities whatsoever. At least Andrew Gregory was secretly taking care of his younger siblings…but lately we’ve had such clowns as Shep Trumbo and now Jackass-jar Gad-ass, who are just douchy assholes. We can still hope that Jackass-jar will get his comeuppance (oh yes, his uppance will come!) but I doubt it will be in any way severe enough punishment. So what do you think should happen to Mini-mar?

Meanwhile, Valerie seems to have two problems…One, she is unable to figure out that Mini-mar is not really one of the three fans who attend her games, and two, her left arm appears to be one foot long.

11/12/09

Duncan is absent, and Milford forgets they can play another player in his place. Stupid Milford.

11/13/09

“I need more time to drag out this boring, boring game.”
“OK, I don’t know why I’m here, but how about this: We make the pass rushers think a little by running in as silly a manner as possible?”

11/14/09

How rude Marty…you may think guard Joe Thaxton is an offensive player, but really he has Tourette’s. Unlike you, he can’t hep his damned cursing. Not everyone can be a foul-mouthed drunk like you.

Meanwhile, apparently  nobody told Kaz that Duncan wasn’t there. And nobody told him he forgot his pants again. Which would explain why the players are looking at him like that.

11/16/09

What’s odd about panel one is not that nearly every player is completely ignoring Gil…It’s that not every player is ignoring Gil. Poor Charles Bloom made the mistake of making eye contact, and now is stuck until whenever he stops rambling about being proud of their loss.

At least we can still hope Duncan is a ticking time bomb, and that Jam-Jar will be the one in his way when he snaps and goes on a killing spree… Pretty please?

11/10/09

“Hey Ma. Thanks for getting here so quickly! This place is scary…they say the ghost of Bing Crosby shuffles through the halls, pretending to be a doctor!”
“Well, it was a pretty long trip, or maybe it wasn’t? We had that loser Coach Shaw drive us all the way from Milford. He had nothing better to do, and it really wasn’t very far from here…Or wait, was it?”
“Oh and thanks for covering up the high beams you normally have goin’ on at home.”
“Well the jacket’s just for this cold room…how do you think I got us all in here past visiting hours…and got the guard, (who I presume exists, since somebody is supposed to be, you know, WATCHING A PRISONER when he’s not in JAIL??) to go home early?”
“That was quite the parenthetical aside, ma.”
“Thanks!”

11/11/09

“So Campo said somethin’ about my face taunting me, reminding him of  ‘1970s Bush’.  Then he whipped out that pointy thing from his pants and pricked me repeatedly. What a dick!”

Prison Rape Jokes: The staple of any good blog entry!

11/6/09

As comic voyeurs we should normally get any angle on a prison fight that would provide the most exciting view. But apparently today we got here late and some other dude is standing in our way. C’mon, move it #3128! I wanna see them whipping out their beef at chow time, and thwacking each other ’til somebody collapses on the floor. Hmmm, on second thought, whatever “drilling” is going on might be best blocked from view. (Aughh my eyes! The goggles, they do nothing!)

11/7/09

As is customary in the North Carolina penal system, rather than contacting any relatives directly, immediately after a prison fight the warden calls the high school coach of any family members, to let them know which hospital to visit. And then the loser assistant coach has to be their chauffeur. Just following standard procedure here, folks.

11/9/09

Since nothing new is happening here, why not look at some hospital comics from three years ago, when Bill Ritter chopped his own leg off? Remember when stuff happened? And the artwork was more insanely fascinating? Ah, the good ol’ days…