This Week in Milford

February 10, 2018

I tried to sing along, But damn that radio guy


Alright alright alright! Let’s settle in and get ready for the write-in/call-in/March on WDIG to get Marty Moon canned! I’m a little surprised Knit Cap Girl hasn’t traded in her black knit cap for a pink one with ears. Maybe it’s actually a ski mask and she’s gonna roll it down over her face, tuck her hair up in it, march over to the station and take Marty hostage. Maybe she can cover that foam pointy finger (no way that’s a real finger, it has no joints) with it and pretend it’s a gun. Maybe her face will be rendered in three dimensions by the time we’re done with this scene.

Now, where’s that Dafne Dafoe when you need her?

Post title inspiration from these guys, whose name we were tossing around day before yesterday. (BTW, shout out to TWIMer Jive Turkey for hipping me to Local H.)



  1. Ah,Karina, straighten up & flute right or you’ll soon be in hiding with April Bowers.

    Comment by Downpuppy Downs (@Downpuppy) — February 10, 2018 @ 9:07 pm

  2. OK, have to appeal to billy for a ruling: how long has it been since we’ve had an example of the formerly endless “Marty is an asshole” plots?

    Comment by vaganova — February 10, 2018 @ 11:01 pm

  3. No wonder Jorge’s sister is angry — her nose outline makes a great map of the state of Texas. If that wasn’t bad enough, she’s got the shadow of a wild turkey gobbling over her shoulder. Bad day all around, so screw that Martee Munch guy, amiright?

    Comment by Moon Mullins — February 11, 2018 @ 1:45 am

  4. I’m digging Karina’s gothy black fingernail polish.

    Comment by timbuys — February 11, 2018 @ 11:43 am

  5. Jive Turkey, WOW, some good stuff from that band you mentioned. I had a chance to listen to “As Good As Dead” and “Ham Fisted” this afternoon and there’s a bit of Foo Fighters/Husker Du in them. Maybe I’m speaking for me but it was a pretty solid listen. And thanks for the kind words yesterday. Keep ’em coming. The music, I mean(ha).

    Y’know, when a PA announcer or radio play-by-play guy mispronounced my nephew’s name at a basketball game or a baseball game, I politely told him how it was correctly pronounced, the PA announcer politely thanked me for the correction, we continued playing. But our heroines, one of them with the garb of the Symbionese Liberation Army, evidently would rather stage Bastille Day and burn down the town of Milford over a simple misunderstanding, even by Creepy Marty standards.
    “Georgie elevates on a reverse and SLAMS IT HOME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”
    “OFF WITH HIS HEAD!!!!!!!!!!!!”
    And all you in the ’70’s music crowd, regardless of age, surely remember Rush and that immortal lime “…for they march out/to Bastille Day.” All because Marty read the cue card wrong? Because it would be in his best interests to hit an eye chart in the near future when reading that night’s lineup? Sure, there’s a Pearle in the Milford Mall, ladies. Let’s go the peaceful route before we do anything drastic. No need for an insurrection.
    My ship is a-coming and I just can’t pretend.

    Comment by tdrewhardin — February 11, 2018 @ 5:47 pm

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