This Week in Milford

May 18, 2019

Not This “Branding” Crap Again!


Okay, so for s & g’s I searched on spirit buttons and 39 cents per seems like a fair deal. The catch is you gotta buy ’em in bulk, at volumes that would ensure every Milford student and their family could have a button with buttons left to spare. The TCFS movement has become less about celebrating softball players’ extracurriculars and more about being cliquish and excluding the one girl on the softball team who cares more about playing softball than the rest of them.

Nancy is perfectly cool with that as she sees being TCFS as a “brand,” a thing that seems to be a thing with kids in Milford (or with a senior citizen who seems to think that branding is a thing with kids). Molly Hatchet seems to have an inkling about that as she and Nancy get brain freezes sucking down their Blastos while they sit on the hood of a… a…  an impossibly drawn clown car with about five planes of perspective and no room for an engine, wheels or passengers.

Added a Swifti Mart tag as I’m surprised we haven’t done that already.


March 4, 2015

Brands Galore

Filed under: actual action, basketball, exposition comics — timbuys @ 1:01 am

March 4, 2015


Appropos of yesterday’s discussion in comments, we learn that Theo and Bobby – What are they doing in panel one? Are they really supposed to be drinking and talking at the same time? – are shopping at the S Mart, where they bought Big sodas and gazed away from the Yoo Hoo poster.

Hey, speaking of brands, it’s back over to Max Bacon (r) where he’s… sticky? I guess? Sure, that works. More accurately, Max looks a little stocky. It maybe that all of those sugar pills are starting to catch up with him. Nah, maybe he just needs to cut back on the flavored chocolate beverages.

January 27, 2015

Benchwarmer Brand Bacon – The Quality Pork Product For Discerning Gadflies, Layabouts And Hangers-On

Filed under: actual action, basketball, Gil Thorp, Marty Moon — timbuys @ 12:32 am

January 27, 2015


Jeez is Gil ever pissy in panels one and two there! I suppose his frustration comes from the fact that interacting with Marty in any way is its own form of punishment so why does Gil have to actually lift a finger and warn the kids off.

Bonus points: I dare anyone to stare at the jersey in panel three long enough that the scribbles start to spell out Jefferson.

January 19, 2015

What Do You Do When You’re Branded

Filed under: Milford Idiots, The Bucket — nedryerson @ 4:51 am

January 19, 2015
The Bucket is  PEN!

Now hold on just a cotton pickin’ minute. Bobby Howry is gonna start messing around with branding in addition to stat crunching? We already did with Dane Doyle (or was his name Schnon Schnaper, who remembers such things?). Also, Bobby looks like a forty-five year old man following a high school basketball player into the Bucket, telling him he could be adorable. We are definitely in some disturbing waters here, even adjusting for the fact that Bobby is just another misguided teen conceived of by a man who probably haven’t seen the inside of a high school since Ike carried his own golf clubs. Image manipulation is a staple of popular entertainment featuring teen characters and that theme is rooted in a fundamental reality of adolescence as a time of awakening to the artifice embedded in much of human interaction. The other reality is that with roughly 18 panels a week, many of which are required to contain sports “action”, it is hard to depict compelling, contemporary drama involving mercurial teens.

I like to think that the girl in the foreground is a self-aware character, staring at us right through the fourth wall with a look that says you’re not really buying any of this are you?

Thanks to teenchy for filling in for me last week.

January 4, 2010

Brand New Year, Same Old Perversion

Filed under: baseball, Coach Kaz, freak hands, Gil Thorp, Just plain sad, Marty Moon, Milford Weirdos — jasbeattie @ 9:11 am

Happy new decade, everyone! Will this comic survive another ten years, outliving all newspapers in the process? Stay tuned to find out…



Welcome to the home of the Squintsalot family!

“Cassie, even though you’re 18 and I have no legal control over you, I forbid you to see that boy!”
“Mom, you’re talking to a lamp, I’m over here.”
“Your mother is right, we were much older when that bizarre badminton accident fused us at the hip and sealed my eyes shut. I don’t want to see the same thing happen to you.”
“You can’t see anything Dad.”
“Who said that?”

“Do we talk to Cassie anymore, or just stand idly by and make bitchy comments?”
“Watch out! That detached hand is trying to cop a feel!”


“Gil would you rather play games at home where the booze is free, or on the road where you can pick up anonymous tail?”
“I’d like to go to a middle school and watch the young boys play!”
“Ummmm, I’m going to go sit over here now.”

Unfortunately, the Milford bus driver can’t get the bus out of first gear, thus allowing Marty Moon to follow in his AMC Pacer. In accordance with Megan’s Law, he no longer sits near the team or the bleachers, so Moon takes his new spot at center court. The basketball season tips off, just in time to be two months behind schedule! I’ve been told it’s guaranteed to conclude by 2019.

November 18, 2009

The Adventures of Deion Brand, Band Geek!

Filed under: Boredom in Milford, Just plain sad, Milford Idiots — jasbeattie @ 9:04 am



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.

February 27, 2008

Sorry, no passengers. This TAXI-Brand TAXI is TAXI.

Filed under: Milford Weirdos, What the hell is going on here? — jasbeattie @ 9:21 am


I’ll admit I was at first confused by the conversation in the first panel…thinking “Big Ray” was someone other than Curley-Horse’s father. Once I realized that it was just poorly-constructed dialogue, I got bored with the story and decided to make fun of the art instead. So here it goes:

Panel 1: Today we’ll play: What exactly is that painting on the right supposed to be? My two best guesses are a fish from Finding Nemo being chopped in half, or possibly a two-headed Elvis impersonator.

Panel 2: Wait, is Margo Maureen practicing her O-face while Andrew’s bending over and not looking? Wow.

Panel 3: I think the real story is that “Big Ray” was kidnapped by the travelling circus. How do I know? Well, first the TAXI brand taxi is neither on nor off duty…It’s merely TAXI. Leading me to believe that while it’s indeed from Milford (“Where things are named exactly what they are, except in ALL CAPS!”), it’s really just the car the travelling circus fellow drives around to pick up the freakiest of freaks from Milford and cart them away…thus also explaining why local freaks disappear with such great frequency. (Hey, where’s Cully, by the way?)

So why is Big Ray such a freak? Well the giant left earlobe tumor and the single fat leg were enough for me to be convinced. Too bad poor Curley-Horse with his two legs and normal-sized head didn’t measure up.

August 20, 2019

Ida Bet Ida Tarbell That We’re In For Another Second String Sack Of Spuds But Idaho, Alaska.

Filed under: Coach Kaz, Coach Shaw, football, Gil Thorp — tdrewhardin @ 2:49 am


Ida know, Gang. I’m borrowing this gremlin from The Family Circus because I really want to believe that Jeffy will emerge as the frontrunner at QB and get us deep into the Playdowns but when I see sores all over his body and Gil asks if he got them from bedwetting or illicit sex with Blondie and Jeffy responds, Ida know, I’m not encouraged that Billy, Dolly, Jeffy, Barfy, and PJ will rescue us from another substandard Thorpiverse tale. The last one, outside of a minuscule,  slightly inexplicable summer football scrimmage, had no sports to speak of, no Dolly shown how to use her putter so she can end the trash-talking from the Evil Triplets, the yin to My Three Sons’ yang, no Billy practicing eluding Barfy in the back yard so he can be a first-string running back, not a second-string box of Tuna Helper, no PJ to fast-forward in age progression so he can be 3 months old in May but 16 years in August and help Milford win the Football Summer League with the game-winning tackle. So he had to spear Dagwood Bumstead with his helmet. If the refs ask how did Dagwood snap his spine while jumping over the pile at the 1-yard line, PJ can always respond “Ida know”.

Recently, I rummaged through an average hefty book on what amounted to Literature 101 and along the way, I stumbled upon a romance novel tip sheet. Yeah, really, some guidelines that many romance novel publishing companys prefer you, as the romance novel writer, need to adhere to if you want to write that Great American Romance Classic.

All righty then, fair enough. Let’s sift through this since Gil, Kaz, and ol’ what’s his name(Ida know) are chit-chatting the summer away before we get to September and Days of Our Lives with the Pigskin kicks off the Season Premiere on the WDIG-TV channel.

First off, the Hero has to be installed ideally by the first chapter, DEFINITELY no later than the second chapter.

That would make sense. If Mimi is looking for her Knight in Shining Armor, we really don’t want to labor through 18 chapters before Gil comes in late from his 60-And-Over Bowling League at Milford Lanes. How many spares did Gil pick up during that time? Did she wind up in the arms of Smidgens to tide her over until Gil decided that running up the score against Milford Foundry’s team was no longer any fun after the 8th frame of the 14th game? I can see the publishers’ point, Mimi and Smidgens are awkward bedfellows on the Serta mattress. Better bring Gil in a lot sooner. He can always tell Coach Shaw to get a life and his own comic strip, not mooching off of someone else’s glory when they run over Oakwood in the second panel after squeaking by Tilden in the first panel.

Yeah, Gil most assuredly should arrive at Mimi’s house by the second chapter. No sense in Gil not exploring the wonders of romance like all males do in the incipient stages of the romance novel. You’re not doing any coaching anyway. Get your ass over to Mimi’s arms and at least give her a bear hug, Gil.

Now here’s where the plot begins to develop. And we are advised that themes concerning extortion, international intrigue or espionage, murder, violence, other butt-ugly concepts that ruin your taste for low-sodium buttered popcorn at the Milford Cineplex have no place in a romance novel.

Again, the thesis is a fair one. Thorpiverse scored a touchdown with a Berrill-era name, Chance Macy. Why lay an egg by inserting Hugo Drax on the practice field?

“There’s Mr. Macy running an end-around on Jaws. See that great harm is done to him. Lace his jock strap with cyanide.”

Gang, that’ll work in Moonraker: The Sequel but fizzles in the football plot. As long as we’re going to pull teeth creating a football plot with pointless dialogue and one-panel victory parades sandwiched around a soap opera that ruins the flavor of Stove-Top Stuffing in your turkey at Thanksgiving, why introduce Dr. No to the tackling dummies? He shows up about as much as Coach Shaw.

So when Gil recites a poem to Mimi at The Bucket expressing his love interest, let alone his voracity for sex based upon a key concept he read in Modern Smut that he bought at Milford 7-11

How do I love thee?

Let me count the ways

You have eyes like this avocado in my Bucket Garden Salad

Your smile washes away the misery that torments my soul

The Bucket Meat Loaf and Mashed Taters and your kisses both spice up our romantic inter-



Ever since I can remember, I’ve been coming to The Bucket in my BVD’s and ordering a Bucket Danish and Bucket Maxwell House. Now you gentlemen put down your guns before I use my Magnum and blow your asses off, my Bucket Scrambled Eggs are gettin’ old.

GO TO HELL, CALLAHAN!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BLAM!!!!!!!!!!!BLAM!!!!!!!!!!!! BOOM!!!!!!!!!!BLAM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BOOM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SMASH!!!!!!!!!!!!CRASH!!!!!!!!!!!!!MORE BLAM!!!!!!!!! STILL MORE BLAM!!!!!!!!

As the remaining thug hold his water pistol to Tiki’s head

“Go ahead. Make my day.”

Well, the thug drops the gun, justice is thankfully served, but, Gang, the publishers score on this one. Exhibit A that violence and romance don’t mix in an award-winning Harlequin romance. Ship Callahan and Drax to the Louis L’Amour section and let ’em engage in Last Man Standing tactics. Keep the kissing and Elizabeth Barrett Browning poetry well-preserved in new wineskins.


It’s time to playyyyyyyyyyyy NAME THAT NATIONALITY!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Contestestants guess correctly that Kato wasn’t from East Germany and win a tour of the studio where Green Hornet was shot plus cash by the bucket!!!!!!!!!!! And now, here’s your host, a man who swears he’s not a citizen of the Lapp region…..Wink!!!!!!!!!!! Martinnnnnnnnndale!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Okay, so I’m being a bit of a smartass trying desperately to pinpoint where Mr. Roh is from. Safe to say he didn’t wander out of Lulu’s bed from the corn patch on Hee Haw. So WHERE IS HE FROM???????

And if attempting to locate a guy’s whereabouts is not a lot of fun and games-really, didn’t we go through this with Tiki last year (“There he is with the Spanish Inquisition, hiding behind the motorboat”…”NOBODY EXPECTS THE…”) and THIS YEAR TOO at the expense of the world of sports, the raison d’etre of Thorpiverse?-we get subjected to Coach Shaw’s new look. He is no longer Bob Vila, hosting a show on how to refurbish the pool room and throw out the old pool table with all the scratches and chewed through 8-balls and cue balls by all the resident mice and convert it into a small chapel, complete with offering plates and hymnals (“You’ll be the envy of the neighborhood when you lay a few bars on that Wurly, singing ‘What a Friend We Have in Jesus”) , when he’s not emceeing Mudlark Lake Bass Fishing Tournaments in December on the Outdoor Channel (“Gil, my man, hold on to the rod!!!!!!!!!! Whew, he’s bigger than Andre the Giant!!!!!!!”) . No, Coach Shaw went to the makeup room and Pond’s Cold Creamed his way into Che Guevara. La Revolucion hijo exito grande, Fidel!!!!!!!!!!!

“Thanks, Shaw, but we’ll have bigger success if Fidel can convince me to hang onto the football on a Statue of Liberty.”

So anyway, Che is Cuban who speaks Spanish when he’s not cameoing as the football coach and leads revolutions on the weekend. Busy schedule.

STILL, who is Charlie Roh? Did he climb over the wall at the 38th parallel and seek asylum in Seoul so that he could cross over the Pacific in a rowboat so that he could show his shake-and-bake moves to Gilberto?  Ida know, some people will escape oppressive Communist regimes to be a halfback, I reckon.

Or is he a Maoist? He is distributing Little Red Books by pretending he wants a spot on the Mudlark Football team. Try him at tight end as long he as he is implementing Marxian subterfuge. Milford needs to keep its offense honest.

Wait, maybe he’s Japanese. His grandfather bombed Pearl Harbor and has hidden on Wake Island and shared a tree house with Tiki on a coconut tree until the coast was clear. But how many Japanese children in Osaka are named Charlie? There’s a Grandpa Jones in Nagasaki? Lulu? The jury is still out on this matter.

Can’t be Eskimo or Hawaiian, unless Roh is short for Hulumakolotekaroh, a name you’d find for a street sign in Pearl City. Honolulu City Council wanted the name but, as seen, it was taken by PC. And Roh isn’t Aleut or Inuit enough to justify any roots in Alaska or Yukon Territory.

Which can only mean we will spend the next 6 weeks in language lab and leave the football to The Family Circus in a pickup game in the street. They’ll be playing touch-football-below-the-waist with Wally and The Beaver. But Ida know.


If ya stage a romance with yore cousin who is modeled after one of ’em Harley-quin classics and makes the cutoff of 28 years old, young fer a heroin-e, even though she’s ugly as sin and has sailor’s chest hair and one molar on her back side of her mouth which helps her chew Wrigley’s and M & M’s, if nuthin’ else, an’ a tattoo of a Valentine on both cheeks of her rear end, ya might be a redneck.


Then there’s the heroine herself. This is no time for Dr. Pearl and her friends from the Gilded Age. Ya gotta keep the age bracket between 19 and 28. And she can be smart but no Harvard Ph.D’s here. If you feel you must use Dr. Pearl or one of her prune -faced friends, she wasn’t in the same graduating class with John Quincy Adams. I concede that she doesn’t look professional in a graduating gown sitting next to Daniel Boone so you’re gonna have to find your own happy medium. Alexander Hamilton or any flunky who took dictation on The Federalist Papers will work.

And if our heroine is not on the same intelligence persona as The Pudd’nhead Tales, it would only stand to reason she is not a manual laborer. She must be a teacher, interior designer, travel agent, etc. Do NOT let Dr. Pearl go down in the trenches and dig ditches with the rest of the Confederate troops. She does not play go-fer for Stonewall Jackson’s coffee. Being Charlie Roh’s limo driver on the way to football practice is gauche with a capital G. Let Charlie steer his own limo out of Nagasaki. Go Greyhound and leave the driving to some struggling Maoist.


And while Che is discussing Charlie Roh the Punjab’s fate, I think I have his message deciphered. I have always loved it when Thorpiverse tries to sound stately and impressive only to realize the conversation is crash-landing in the gutter somewhere.

I am CONFIDENT Coach Che Shaw is saying that if Sahib is not the man at (I think) halfback, he has the junior varsity team to fall back on. But the way ol’ Havana Cigar is putting it, well, “…if he winds up in the lower rung of the Caste System and cannot eat anything unclean and lives the life of a second-class citizen who will sleep in the boiler room of the Flemings’ garage, well, at least a few TD runs and a couple of Ickey Shuffles will elevate him to the Brahmins.” Playing football has its advantages.


In order for your romance novel to be a hit, you MUST have The Other Man and The Other Woman. These characters fill in the gaps and spice up the Romance concept. Be careful here. Don’t have Mimi falling in love with the sanitation engineer for Milford Disposal. Yeah, it’s kinda sexy for a guy to ride a garbage truck around Milford only to go to Mimi’s in the evening and make passionate love while Gil is at The Lions Club board meeting. Gil returning the favor with a woman who rides power mowers and mows down the grass at all the parks around town while Mimi is at the Umpire Rules Clinic does indeed arouse the beast in some people but Gil coming to his senses and asseverating in Chapter 28 that he is through dating menial workers who frequent Temporary Job facilities doesn’t even come close to maximizing the ethereal experience called Love. Gotta make her lawyer or a manager of the Cubs if Gil is to realize the error of his ways and return to Mimi while she’s watching “Dallas”.


“Well, that just about wraps up this preview. Charlie Roh is a cinch to start at quarterback for the nation of Bhutan. We’ll be back for some final words after this. This is Marjie Ducey for WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”


“Folks, are you tired of paying high prices on all your grocery items, even the store brands? Come on, admit it, you’re like me, you hate using your Visa Gold when your purchasing Cocoa Puffs. Consolidating your debt to be able to buy Sugar Pops with more regularity can be a strain on the budget.

Hi, this is Coach Thorp for Milford Beverage Warehouse. When those wussies can’t handle the heat on the field, I go to the kitchen and take advantage of deals only a mother could love. The Warehouse cut a deal with Milford Farm Market and passed the savings on to you.

Check out these door-busters. For every purchase of a 12-pack of Bud Lite, you can get half off Pussy Pops, the store-brand cereal of Milford Kroger. Or you can get Trashy Tarts instead of the Kellogg’s brand and still have gas money on the way home. Why buy a name when you can get booze and a bargain, all in the same bag, paper or plastic?

Want something a little stronger? How ’bout Jim Beam and a 3-pound bag of gala apples that won’t bounce the check? And if you’re not an apple man, try Cutie oranges in the 4-pound bag or 5 mangoes in the same deal. Peeling a banana and downing a Jim and listening to Sammy Sosa send one over Waveland Avenue, hoo-eee,that’s exciting. And all you need is a chaser, not for the bananas, you understand. Hey, whatever yanks your crank.

But if are a whiner, then Martini & Rossi and the Milford Mart store brand pinto beans makes a deadly combo. You don’t have to eat Bush’s Best and down a white wine to clear out the crowd at the picnic table. Yup, you can cleanse your stomach and indulge in a slice of The Good Life. Who says ya gotta eat Trix while you imbibe merlot?

Come to Milford Beverage Warehouse and check out other deals this week. The next time the wife gives you the “Honey-do” list and ya gotta shop for milk and eggs and bread, well, this time, you can walk out with Wonder Bread or Morningstar Farms Scrambled Eggs in one hand and a case of Falls City in the other. Isn’t life grand? Come to Milford Beverage Warehouse where you can have your Sterling’s Draft and drink it too.”


Gang, comment away. I’d bail out too if the Stupidity Index was around 85. It’s a heat wave when it approaches triple figures.


Interesting how the romantic novel tip sheet points out that there is rarely love-making before marriage.

In other words, Gil and Mimi were never in the janitor’s closet before a basketball game. They could withstand their urges and coach the team to victory. Hard to work the refs when the kids see Gil and Mimi zipping their pants coming out of the faculty bathroom. Yeah, I agree, ya gotta keep certain things on the level.

It also mentioned that the venue should be something exotic or exciting like New York or Rio or Paris.

Gil and Mimi exuding romance while Cupid is shooting arrow after arrow at the girl’s gym is a thing of the past. Milford is a great town but hardly a place for exciting romance novels on the drug store shelf. Better stick with Rio.

But Idaho. Alaska.





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