This Week in Milford

March 22, 2018

Marty Moon: Insulting More Than Just Latinos


This arc turned from “Let’s empathize with the Puerto Rican kids who’ve been displaced from their homes by a natural disaster” to “Hey, let’s put on a show!” so fast, it’s made my neck snap. All I’m left with is a sense of wonder.

I wonder if Google Alphabet stock has plummeted since Rubin’s name-dropped YouTube Live in the past two strips. I wonder if The Milford Pirate Network has the requisite number of subscribers to allow it to use YouTube’s live streaming via mobile functionality. I wonder if Marty’s mike is hot. (The lightning bolt word balloon would lead me to believe so.) I wonder if this will be Marty’s Lonesome Rhodes moment: the moment when the Milford student body, Dr. Pearl, and WDIG’s listeners decide that while insulting Latinos is okay, insulting Milford students’ intelligence crosses the line. Finally, I wonder if anyone will comment on this post.



March 17, 2018

Look Out Marty, ‘Cause I’m Using Technology


As has been pointed out in yesterday’s comments, this arc is becoming less and less about two Puerto Rican high schoolers’ adjustments to life post-Hurricane Maria and more and more about how the people around them react to them.  Ernie from My Three Sons Duncan and Karina are getting more character development than Jorge and Paloma at this point. Duncan is suddenly becoming a broadcaster and Karina is growing a ginormous man hand. I’m calling recycled art on that paw.

Meanwhile Marty finally gets confronted by someone at WDIG other than the sales guy. Is he the station manager or somebody else in a position of authority over Marty? If so, why is he just now calling Marty out about his mouth when he’s been doing his derogatory schtick for several games now? And why would Marty assume (a) he has any listeners (b) those listeners love him (c) that objecting to his schtick is somehow “P.C.”?

I still maintain that if Milford was anything other than 1959 with cell phones, Marty would have been buried in a tweetstorm as soon as he overpronounced Jorge’s name during the game after Karina and Duncan visited him and would’ve been at least suspended and more than likely fired.  Whatevs; I’m looking forward to the first installment of Mudlark hoops starring Duncan Levin, livestreamed over tin cans and sponsored by Los Morenos (who boycotted WDIG).

I had to scrap my first draft title for today’s post because I used it once already. Here’s the inspiration for its replacement:

March 13, 2018

Who calls Assistant Coach Kaz, “Daddy-O”


Fe Fe Fi Fi Fo Fo Fum

Marty got run from the gymnasium

That Marty Moon

That Marty Moon

He’s a loon

That Marty Moon

He’s gonna get tough. Just you wait and see

Why is everybody always pickin’ on me?


Who’s always ripping all the teams to shreds?

Who’s got the personality of Mr. Ed?

That Marty Moon

That Marty Moon

He’s a goon

That Marty Moon

He’ll avenge The Dove.  Just you wait and see

Why is everybody always pickin’ on me?


He broadcasts all the ball games foaming bile

Even if the ‘Larks win by a mile

His enemies pile up and gather ’round



YEAH YOU!!!!!!!!!

(Milford cheering section in unison, led by Mimi Thorp and Karina Klown)


Who’s calling Coach Thorp impotent and slow?

Who is a vulture on the radio?

That Marty Moon

That Marty Moon

Come back soon

Oh Marty Moon

He’s gonna call your bluff.  Just you wait and see

Why is EVERYBODY always pickin’ on me?

The final BOOMBOOMBOOM can be heard fading into the sewer while Marty races like Dale Earnhardt to WDIG studios, fumbles with his keys to open the door, the Milford Courthouse clock showing 1:15AM, never too early for a muckraker to type a rough draft on his radio screed but too late to catch the other Marty heading back to 1955 due to BOOMBOOMBOOMS from the flux capacitor. A lot of BOOMBOOMBOOMS with his typewriter. From Marty MOON, not McFly, so that we’re clear on things.

Gang, it was toss-up between “Daddy-O” and “Who calls ol’ Doctor Pearl, Mommy-O”. I hope I made the right call.

Wow, gang, I don’t know about you but I think Karina and Paloma dropped one bomb too many over Pearl Harbor (no pun intended). They have aroused a sleeping giant who really never sleeps based upon his arrogance and abrasiveness but what’s a blog without the obligatory cliche, right? The point is, we’re in for some more mud-slinging for the next 2 months (oh boy oh boy). Only the hog-rassling event at the Milford County Fair offers more but that’s only for a day or two. At least in the latter the winner will get a blue ribbon. But wouldn’t you know it, there’s Gil to save the day. As Jive Turkey has noted on a couple of occasions, Gil has been non-existent, especially on this issue. And the extent of Daddy-O’s coaching has been to remind HOR-HAY that there’s a game in front of the Puerto Rican Huckleberry Hound. Not a lot of cool points being dished out. STILL, sure as the mutant poplars grow out of the evergreens like the ones in the background in P1 and shed their antlers(I DID check the definition for “deciduous”, goody me!!!!), Gil HAS drawn a bead on this one after sleeping in his coffin for centuries. That explains why Marty is TOTALLY out of character in P3, continuing his ring-kissing(or maybe the kissing of Gil’s, well, never mind). Gang, I’ll keep saying it. ANYBODY thinking Marty is going to go to the altar and repent better think again. There’s been plenty of Thorpiverse neophytes who had a Euraka!!!!! moment, exclaiming to their friends down at The Bucket “Marty has found Jesus!!!!!!” The Thorpiverse veteran in the corner booth of the same venue orders the Triple Layer Nacho Bandito Supreme because he knows better. They’ve seen Judas turn over a new leaf before only to wind up back in his WDIG office saying “Vengeance is mine, saith The Moon”. Nice set of encyclopedias in P3, Gil, BTW.

If ya lay a Yorkshire flat on its back in yore Hanes imported from the factory in Tijuana and all ya git fer yore troubles is a cream pie, a sombrero and mud enemas, ya might be a redneck.

“What the-                                                              ”

Can I help you?”

“Yeah, I’m looking for Coach Thorp. Did they move his office?”

“This has been the boiler room for years. WHO did you say you were looking for?”

“Coach Gil Thorp.”

“Never heard of him. You sure you’re in the right school?”

“Yeah, I broadcasted his game last week in the gym down that hallway.”

“That leads to the cafeteria.”

“What?? No way!!!!! Paloma and her friends ran me out of the gym last week.”

“It was New Year’s Day last week. The school would have been closed. Who’s this Palooka-”


“Paloma, whatever. I never heard of her, either. Who is she, someone who wanted to celebrate 1955 and went a little overboard with it at your expense?”


That’s 3 years before Gil was born!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Where the hell am I?”


You’re on Riverdale High School property!!!!!!!!”

“And Dr. Pearl is not the principal?”

“NO!!!!! CERTAINLY NOT!!!!!!!!!! I AM the principal, Mr. Waldo Weatherbee!!!!!!!! But you can call me The Bee for short, if you like. The students do.”

“DOC!!!!!!!! THANK GOD!!!!!!!!! YA GOTTA SEND ME BACK TO MILFORD!!!!!!!!!!!!! I’LL EVEN APOLOGIZE TO PALOMA!!!!!!!!! BUT, DAMN IT, GET ME BACK TO 2018!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Marty, where did you get that goatee? Nobody grows facial hair in 1955.”

Today’s Women’s History Month entry is another personal favorite of mine, Annie Oakley. Born Phoebe Ann Mosey, she was a VERY adroit talent with the rifle, at one time defeating her future husband, Frank E. Butler, who was not too shabby with the rifle himself. She went on tour with Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show, dazzling audiences with her marksmanship. She could hit dimes at a distance, shoot a cigarette out of her husband’s mouth, hit a target from behind her, using only a mirror to line up the shot. What was neater was she would hold shooting clinics before the Wild West Show, instructing people on how to use a rifle and the safety procedures that went with it. A picture of Annie helping a young girl shoot a clay pigeon said it all and melted my heart. Annie, you did us proud and proved that women could use a rifle just as well as a man, especially when a rifle was necessary to defend yourself. Please spread the word about her as she contributed to humanity in a MIGHTY way.

Gang, have at it. I gotta go to 1955 and bail out Marty, both of them. AGAIN. Does anybody have a spare key to the flux capacitor?

March 10, 2018

Goodnight Moon*


Goodnight room
Goodnight Moon
Goodnight fans shouting over the Moon
Goodnight light
And the racist goon
Goodnight game
“Goodnight”? Lame
Goodnight Padillas
Oh, goodnight? See ya!
Goodnight job
And goodnight slob
Goodnight little house
And goodnight souse
Goodnight Gil
And goodnight (W)DIG
Goodnight nobody
Goodnight pig
And goodnight to your shot at another gig
Goodnight scars
Goodnight hair
Good night Mudlarks everywhere

*apologies M. W. Brown



March 8, 2018

Join In the Chant


I love it that Paloma’s all up in Marty’s grill; too bad Exploding Spittle Syndrome is not a thing. Still I’m a little disappointed in the chant. “Muzzle Marty” is a four-syllable phrase. Why aren’t the protesters using the “clap clap clap-clap-clap” cadence? You’d think they know it since “Mudlarks” is a two-syllable nickname.

Raised fists make for good visuals but they can’t be heard on the radio. Maybe since they’re not in the cheap seats they think they can just rattle their jewelry.

What four-syllable chant would you have the Milford crowd do? Keeping it clean so WDIG doesn’t pull the plug (although Marty’s think-skinned ass may just do it for spite, the station manager may think any ratings are good ratings). “Fuck you Marty” or “Un pendejo” are right out.

Inspiration for today’s post title:


Blog at