This Week in Milford

March 24, 2016

Ken Brown: The Man Maxwell Bacon Could Smell Like


Missing something here. Didn’t Bacon tell Kenzie he couldn’t “do this anymore” a couple of days ago, or was that a mutual decision? Either way, you’re no longer MaxKenzie, so stop moping about it. Hey, is that Ken Brown looking all Old Spice Man? Maybe he’s off to underachieve in the showers.

Kenzie’s on-court presence or lack thereof shouldn’t be having that big an impact on the Lady Mudlarks’ results either way – she’s not the star, right? On the other hand, as this year’s designated heckler target, she should be drawing fire away from her teammates and helping them improve in the process.


April 17, 2018

Ohhhhh, Marty, you bankrupted this plot. But you have a free spin token, so spin again!!!!!

Filed under: Gil Thorp, hideous scar faces, Mimi Thorp, Prairie Style Windows — tdrewhardin @ 1:54 am


WHEEL!!!!!!!!!!! OF!!!!!!!!!!!!! FORTUNE!!!!!

That’s right, gang, Pat Sajak and Vanna White have invaded Milford High School Gymnasium to promote the famous game show. And what better way for WOF to nurture a grass-roots feel than to invite Milford’s own to be contestants? Once a Mudlark, always a Mudlark, even if they have to spin a gigantic wheel to win thousands of dollars/vacations to The Bahamas/consolation prizes to prove it. The screening process turned up 3 worthy contestants, Marty Moon, Mimi Thorp and Vince Packard, and this should be interesting, given all that Marty has endured. C’mon, gang, Marty can’t be crying in his beer at the Milford Lounge forever and does anybody honestly picture him next to Humphrey Bogart at the Boulevard of Broken Dreams? Didn’t think so. I wouldn’t even paint him in that portrait with those dogs playing poker that gets sold on a roadside stand somewhere. Marty puffing away on a Muriel cigar next to some ruffian boxer who’s also smokin’ a stogie? Marty better have a winning hand.

Especially when we’re still attempting to dig ourselves out of this plot via the-parking-lot-aka-bargaining-table method. Hey, I guess NAFTA, SALT II, and the Yalta Conference (“Sure, Josef, you can have Czechoslovakia if we can take Austria. Oh, damn, I lost the keys to my Ford Explorer. No problem, I have a spare in my briefcase.”) were discussed in the asphalt jungles of your nearest soon-to-make-history-in-encyclopedias-everywhere city, so why not Puerto Rico and/or the fate of Marty’s radio career? And why not the asphalt jungle of Milford?

Before Gil and The Dove, with HOR-hay as an Official Witness, sign ANY agreement (Marty Moon’s broadcasting career realigned in exchange for world peace, I’d say that’s fair), let’s NOT KID OURSELVES as Gil and Mimi are doing in P3. As they walk down the streets of perhaps the Business District of Milford, after intense negotiations in the asphalt jungle (we’re talking Milford, I understand, but work with me), they apparently need to be reminded of the raison d’etre of WDIG. The station isn’t throwing a lifeline to a fellow shark because WDIG is compassionate to a JAWS who forgot how to swim. Peace, Love, and Happiness is for the ’60’s, concepts that don’t apply to a muckraking operation that is ‘DIG. Unless Peace, etc. is subordinate TO the profit ledger. Then Flowers in your Hair is OK as long as the utilities in the building are paid. PEACE and PROFITS walking hand-in-hand, Gil? Did you ever see JAWS and Lassie walk down the aisle of a chapel to exchange wedding vows (…’til death do you part?”     “I do.”)?

Therefore, if anybody’s been dying to know what Marty’s been up to when he’s not feeling sorry for himself, I mean, okay, so nobody’s losing sleep over this one but, hell, I’M DYING TO KNOW, how’s that? You think I like Gil in a parking lot doing a sting operation with The Dove and Jorge CONCERNING MARTY??? Surely Marty kept himself busy. Actually, believe it or not, he did.

“So, Marty, tell us a little about yourself.”

“I’m a DJ and sports announcer for a radio station. I do play-by-play for high school sports.”

“Wow. That’s interesting. There’s an ugly rumor you got suspended?”

“Totally false. I have been on the job for 60 years and only called in once. My jeep broke down out in the woods and my CB player was on the frizz and I forgot my CB handle. A farmer in a nearby soybean field gave me a lift on his combine and I eventually made it back to Milford.”

“Good deal!!!!!! BTW, what is your CB handle?”

“It’s an original. Just call me ‘Dead Flowers'”

(Awkward pause)

“Well, Vanna, when we take a tour of the town after the show, don’t forget to put roses on HIS grave. Oh, you’re still alive(nervous laughter from the audience, Vanna impatient to turn the letters. It’s a Phrase). Marty, why don’t you get us started and spin the wheel?”

TH– —T R—– —K-

“200 dollars.”

“Is there a ‘Z’?”

“I’m sorry, Mimi, there’s no ‘Z’. Vince, it’s your turn.”


“Wow, big money, 800 dollars.”

“Is there a ‘C’?”

“YES!!!!!! There IS a ‘C’. If Vanna will get her ass over there, okay, that’s better. We only have a 1/2 hour in this gym.”

TH– —T R—– –CK-

“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”



“Nope, I’m sorry, that is incorrect. Marty, back to you.”

If ya lost that vacation to Acapulco, complete with dancing senoritas that sing like Speedy Gonzales and hotels that cost the GNP of Guatemala with beaches so pristine that you CAN drink the water, because ya lost on “Wheel of Fortune” because ya forgot there’s a ‘C’ in MEXICAN REDNECK, ya might be a redneck.

Gang, I’m a Classic Rock junkie but I have a special addiction for my Rolling Stones. From the album “Sticky Fingers”(the one that shows Coach T.’s crotch shot once you unzip it) comes a song that sums up the relationship between Marty and Ernie. As Ralph Kramden once said to Norton, awaaaaaayyyyyy we go

While you’re sitting there

In your silk-upholstered chair

Broadcasting live for WDIG

I hope you won’t see me

In my ragged company

The parrot done left me in abject poverty

Take me down, Little Ernie

Take me down

I know you think you’re the king of

the high school grounds

And you can send me dead flowers

When I am fired

Send me dead flowers on the radio waves Send me dead flowers

When I retire

And I’ll never forget to put roses on

your graaaaavvveee.

Well, while you’re sitting back

In your rose-pink Cadillac

Calling the game on Milford Playdown


I’ll be at the Milford Lounge

With a needle that I scrounged

And a Natural Lite to take my pain


Take me down, Little Ernie

Take me down

I know you think you’re the king when

I’m not around

And you can send me dead flowers when I’m buried

Send me dead flowers on the radio waves

Send me dead flowers when I’m married

And I’ll never forget to put this plot into the grraaaaaaaaaavvvvvvve.

TH– —T R—-Y –CK-


“500 dollars”

“I’d like to buy a vowel.”

“Go right ahead.”

“Is there an ‘E’?”

“YESSS!!!!!! There is one ‘E’. Vanna is there to get it turned around.”

TH– —T RE—Y –CK-

“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”

“I’m with you. Solve it.”


“Uh, no, Mimi, you might wanna check the board again on that one. Vince, over to you.”

“Hi, this is Coach Steve Boone, speaking on behalf of Milford Gentleman’s Club. Practice can get real intense and the plot, as you can see, can be pointless. Sometimes I have to work overtime, with basketball overlapping into Opening Day of my beloved Cubs. That’s why I love the lap dances of Milford’s finest ladies. They help me unwind and forget about the game films Coach is incessantly showing. I’m a Cameo Coach, not Dick Vitale. But rather than lose my job and say “Freeze it, Gil!!!!!”, I turn to the hottest acts in Mudlarkland with ladies like Annie Aardvark cha-chaing on stage, twirling her son’s coxcomb to “Don’t Leave Me This Way” or Penelope Pearl proving age is just a state of mind, gettin’ it on to “What Have You Done For Me Lately?” How she boogies and keeps her beehive is a club secret. While you’re scratchin’ your noggin over that one, check out the club’s 1/2 price daiquiris from 7-9 PM every night. I’m thirsty already. And you’ll also be hungry for love and get it satisfied at the place that’s literally hoppin’ for your business. Come check out the ladies at the Milford Gentleman’s Club and as a bonus catch Hellfire Heather lap dance the owner while twirling a football. Just call her the Meadowlark Lemon of the Gentleman’s Club. She never fumbles!!!!!! Us Cameo Coaches taught her well. And if you poop out from the ladies like Hellfire, and who doesn’t occasionally, there’s wide-screen TV’s all around the club. It’s nice to know that when Gil can act out of character and be a donkey about the Veer offense or a generic play like the double out right, split formation, halfback wishbone option left, single screen off the right tackle, that I can flush that down the toilet and go watch my beloved Cubs. They have toilet paper too, 2-ply jumbo rolls at that, in case you’re wondering. But don’t take my word for it, come on down to the one place exclusively for men where playmates are not restricted to the basketball court and their uniforms really give you a reason to cheer on the team.”



“Hey, ALL RIGHT!!!!!!!! You landed on ‘Win a Trip to Mudlark Lake Resort'”.

“Is there an ‘L’?”

“YESSS!!!!!!!!! THERE ARE THREE OF THEM!!!!!!!!! If Vanna will get there in time. That’s what happens when they only pay minimum wage. And LUCKY YOU!!!!!! I hope you have a special someone in mind.”


“Peaches, if you’re watching this, I’m willing to kiss and make up.”

“And Peaches, whoever you are, if you can rescue Marty from the Milford Lounge and land him to safety at this resort, you deserve this trip. Just don’t take the Titanic to get there(audience laughter, Marty shooting daggers at Pat). All right, Marty, what do you wanna do?”

“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”

“Why not?”


“Noooooooo, I’m sorry, Marty. Mimi, it’s your turn, spin the wheel.”


“Oooooohhhhhh, just passed that ‘Bankrupt’ sign. Lay it on me, Mimi.”

“Is there a ‘P’?”

“YESSSS!!!!!!! One ‘P’.”


“I’d like to solve the puzzle.”

“GO AHEAD!!!!!”


“YESSSS!!!!!!! WE HAVE A WINNER!!!!!!!! Johnny, tell Mimi all the fabulous prizes in store for our contestant!!!!!!!!!”

“A BRAND NEW BRUNSWICK BAYLINER MOTORBOAT!!!!!! Yes, dump that Radio Flyer of a craft that your husband’s been sandpapering for the last 25 years when he’s not teaching his daughter how to putt…”

Gang, fire away. Marty’s consolation prize is 2 free passes to the Milford Gentleman’s Club. Marty wanted me to tag along. Being a Christian, I had my reservations. But Jesus drank wine with the sinners plus I’ve never seen Hellfire Heather twirl a football to “Sweet Georgia Brown” while lap dancing. The talents we never knew we had.

March 20, 2018

Which Came First, The Chicken or the Basketball?


Awrright, Moon, where’s your hall pass?

Now I’ve seen everything. Since WHEN did WDIG suddenly get concerned about decency and taste? Aren’t we out of character here, given the nature of the radio station? And who is this guy that’s telling Marty that he crossed one line too many? The husband of Sister Mary Elephant? Mr. Weatherbee’s second cousin, twice removed? Is he the equivalent of Dr. Pearl at Milford High School? “Did you hear ol’ Moon got sent down to the principal’s office? He got caught chuggin’ spit wads at the sound board.” Gang, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.

“And furthermore, Coach T is a wienie and needs to get a life!!!!!!!!!! His wife is a second-rate basketball coach whose team shows up every other month—”

“We interrupt this broadcast so that we might bring you “Art Blakey and his Jazz Messengers, Live at Minton’s Playhouse”.

Seen spray-painted on the outside wall of a wing of Milford High School:

“Clapton is God!!!!!!!!”

Seen just below:

“So is Marty!!!!!!!!”

If ya wind up in the ICU of Milford General Hospital because ya smeared too much Tex-Mex on your barbecued iguana and ya forgot to wash it down with a cold Mr. Pibb, ya might be a redneck.

Now, not only has WDIG inexplicably taken the high road (wash your mouth out with soap, Marty), MARTY NOW HAS COMPETITION. A pirate trying to be Rodney Dangerfield who is the spitting image of Buddy Holly (or Ernie Douglas, hey, gang, I won’t pull teeth in this one). Whoa, Marty, not only did the zombies tail your ass to Goshen to eat your flesh, THEY WANT YOUR JOB ALSO. Idaknow, Marty, aside from the fact that you may wind up in the Milford General Hospital being roommates with the careless redneck who ate one barbecued iguana too many and forgot his Rolaids you also got bills to pay. Are you up to the task? I would have stomped YES in times past but since that paddling in the principal’s office by Anonymous Cameo Dude Who Just Happens To Be The Husband of Sister Mary Elephant In Case Anybody Starts Snooping And Wondering How The Hell He Made It On The Set, I am left with more questions than answers. Marty about to get upstaged by a ragtag teenage unit bent on going neck-and-neck with him to call the game fairly and with malice towards none? Pass that Rolaids, please. Hey, I’ll admit his comedy routine might need some brushing up(“Milford PIRATE Network, Goshen, ya know, Jolly Roger on my hat, I look like Judge Reinhold from Fast Times at Ridgemont High? That’s a funny, Goshen”). He might go over their heads in Goshen(we’re talking a Mudlark opponent, they’re trained to roll over and be outclassed, not digest comedy schtick) with humor involving  pumped basketballs vs. stuffed basketballs, but in the end, the clock is ticking on you, Marty. Will the pendulum swing back?

Gang, I’m still in shell-shock over Marty Moon doing his best imitation of Bart Simpson. I thought being chewed out by the principal was reserved for Milford Elementary. Guess not. Ah, but not to worry, music ALWAYS solves my life’s conundrums. C’mon, you ’70’s crowd, yeah, you know who you are, join me in Brownsville Station’s “Smokin’ in the Boys Room”, Marty Moon style(anybody remember those Roy Orbison glasses that Cub Koda, the lead singer, used to wear? Wouldn’t they look sexy on Dr. Pearl?)

Hey, how’s it goin’ out in Mudlarkland? You ever have one of them days where it seems like EVERYBODY’S getting on your case from the Director at WDIG on down to the student body at Milford High School? Well, ya know I used to have ’em just about all the time. And this is what me and Anonymous Calculus Dude and the rest of the WDIG staff did to get out of ’em.

Sittin in the sound booth, tearing down ol’ Gil

Watching him coach, well, y’know that ain’t a thrill

The Noon tone rings, ya know that’s my cue

I’m gonna meet the staff at stall #2

Smokin’ in the men’s room

Smokin’ in the men’s room

Mr. Director, doncha fill me

up with your rules

But everybody knows that smokin’ at the ‘DIG ain’t cool.

Looked out the studio, the coast was clear

Checked in the storage closet, ain’t nobody here

We put a hold on the telephone calls

To get caught at The ‘DIG would be the death of us all

Smokin’ in the men’s room

Smokin’ in the men’s room

Mr. Director, doncha fill me

up with your rules

But everybody knows that smokin’ at the ‘DIG ain’t cool

I get assigned to read farm yield reports.

Oh, God, I mean to tell ya, I got bored

Mr. Director was looking for me all around

Two hours later, ya know where I was found

Smokin’ in the men’s room

Tokin’ in the men’s room

Mr. Director, don’t lecture me

UP YOURS with the rules

Cuz everybody knows that Marty Moon is really cool

Today’s Woman’s History Month entry is Bilinda Butcher, guitarist/vocalist for the group My Bloody Valentine. Though the group itself was sometimes beset with strife, make no mistake, her contributions and her talent kept the group on the forefront of the rock music world. MBV was part of a movement called shoegazing that involved obscure lyrics, guitar distortions that were wrapped up in a surreal atmosphere, basically music you would hear if you were dreaming. They made it work and she was a BIG part of it. Her haunting crooning and her Kate Bush persona propelled the music to great heights, not to mention her stellar and timely guitar-playing. MBV’s album, “Loveless” is on Rolling Stone’s 500 Greatest Albums of all time and “Isn’t Anything” is on many “1000 Albums Ya Gotta Hear” lists from SEVERAL influential publications. The Edge, from U2, is a HUGE fan of their music. Again, she’s a BIG part of that.

Take her away, gang. I’ll be giving comedy pointers to Buddy/Ernie. We should have a comedy routine ready by tipoff.

March 8, 2017

Wait, Was Ken Supposed To Be Holmes?

Filed under: Boredom in Milford, freak hands, Milford Idiots — timbuys @ 7:11 am


Panel one: Ken ‘Colombo’ Brown looks like he’s had just about enough of this.

Panel two: Mike ‘Hercule Poirot’ Granger is not at all happy about that awkward touch on his shoulder by what appears to be the hand of god.

Panel three: I say, with his sneer and peek a boo bang thing going on, AAAA is being revealed as the true villain here. As the saying goes, eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, is likely going to make more sense than the latest plot twist in Gil Thorp.

July 19, 2016

Brown v. Bader

Filed under: Just plain sad — timbuys @ 6:58 am


Brazen But Buff Barry Bader Barely Bumped By Brawny Bully… Ah, forget it.  Hey wasn’t there someone else whose name started with a B?

Oh yeah, Ken Brown. He sure doesn’t look like he’s going to sit through much more of this.

Bonus Point: Isn’t this technically Barry’s second day back?

January 7, 2016

Young Miss Kenzie


Young Miss Kenzie wants to be a ball player
First she’s got to learn to box
Gonna lay in bed with no socks
Flexes her elbow, taut and free
(Mimi’s folly) wait and see
Drink up the lake, Kenzie’s awake
(Mimi’s folly) Mimi’s mistake?

Young Miss Kenzie, used to playing rugby
First she’s got to watch Ken Brown
Wellington team comes to town
Rosters to be named and name-dropped
(Bobby Mitchell?) Tracy Schroeder?
Mike, Max and Ken, here we go again
(Mimi’s folly) we’re ready to go

Young Miss Kenzie wants to be a power forward
First she’s gotta learn defense
She’s gotta make this plot make some sense
Film to be watched; practice? nah!
(Mimi’s folly) I believe
Here we go again, Mike, Max and Ken
(Mimi’s folly) Mimi’s mistake?

Young Miss Kenzie, THUD! to the head
(Mimi’s folly) we’re ready to go
Mimi’s mistake, THUD! to the head
(Mimi’s folly) we’re ready to go

(apologies Ayers, Berry, Buck, Mills, Stipe)

March 7, 2015

It Takes Bacon to Make a Hot Brown

Filed under: actual action, basketball, Gil Thorp — teenchy @ 9:22 am

March 7, 2015


Louisville, Kentucky is known for a number of things, including a pretty decent college basketball team. The city has also made its mark on American cuisine via the Hot Brown, the signature sandwich of the Brown Hotel (and one of the better ways I can think of to use up leftover Thanksgiving turkey).

Just as bacon is one of the key ingredients of a good Hot Brown, Max Bacon’s passing will be key to a hot Ken Brown sinking the winning shot against Jefferson. As discussed on Thursday, why the Jeffs are leaving Ken open when he killed them in their last meeting is beyond me. Then again, so is Gil essentially handing the tactical reins of his team over to his student manager.

Wonder what the statute of limitations is on resting on your laurels after winning a championship in another sport? That question could be asked of this strip’s creators as well.

April 12, 2018

Marty Moon: The Straw That Stirs the Milford Drink


Today’s strip just serves to bring the glaring plot holes, inconsistencies and missed opportunities into stark relief, not unlike Marty’s face in P2.  Without belaboring the obvious – oh, who am I kidding? Let’s belabor the obvious:

  1. If an Aagard scores 26 points and there’s no one there to report on it, does it make a sound? Last winter’s saga of Aaron and his opioid-addicted mother ended with his transfer into the protective custody of the Hiatt-Brown family. Rubin brought Aaron back this season, but Big Ken Brown is no longer around to make things happen. Couldn’t those loose ends have been tied up in a panel?
  2. Nice use of parallel drinking by the not-broadcasting broadcasters, one with hooch, the other with Yoo-Hoo (or does that just say “Poo”?). The glaring sign behind Marty’s head must be meant to offer a contrast to his apparent sour mood. It also offers a nice segue into a song parody but I fear those days are behind me. The idea that WDIG can’t or won’t run games without Marty to call them borders on the absurd. Absurd doesn’t begin to describe the Milford Pirate Network’s approach to the games. If they’d been up front about why they popped up then played it straight, they’d still be on the air and no one would’ve cared that there was no coverage from Marty and WDIG. But noooo, MPN based its whole schtick on taunting Marty, so no Marty, no MPN. For that matter…
  3. … no Marty, no Gil to antagonize or be antagonized by Marty. Hence Gil’s call on Pocket Square Sporting Radio Station Manager to no doubt try to get Marty back on the air. As with his meeting with Marty, Gil’s on neutral ground where drinks are involved but this time it’s only coffee (unless Gil’s secretly making it Irish).

If all this is a pivot towards turning this strip from Gil Thorp into Marty Moon, I could be persuaded to stick around. The travails of a drunken shock jock looking to redeem himself to unwitting victims of his shock doesn’t cover new ground but it has potential.

late metapost: Over lunch I came across this article about Latinos attempting to assimilate in the American South. No one in the story is Puerto Rican, but it touches on an angle Rubin has chosen not to pursue to much extent in this arc.

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