This Week in Milford

June 14, 2018

Correction: Orange Is the New Dafonte*


*and how many times have I relied on the “Orange Is the New Black” trope? Don’t ask.

Does anyone know how to lay the bases out at Valley Tech?  The outside edge of the bag goes along the baseline with the rest of the bag in fair territory, not the inside of the bag with the rest in foul territory.  Never mind that: does that field have no foul territory or what?  I wonder how many kids hurt themselves chasing after foul balls and falling over that parapet in front of the dugout.  No matter, visiting players shouldn’t swing from the dugout roof.

Valley Tech’s messed up ball field pales in comparison to today’s big reveal: Dafne Dafonte was the second driver!  How else would she be going to prison and seeing Del?   Oh wait, prisons aren’t co-ed?  Never mind.  My head spins with the crazy schemes Dafne could’ve cooked up to make this happen.  Maybe she secretly lusted after True Standish, wanted Boo Radley killed off and, disguised as Shelly from Selasky’s Supper Club, got Del Bader drunk so he would cause death.  Hey, it’s not that much more far-fetched than the idea of Del agreeing to speak to some nosy kid from his son’s high school’s newspaper in order to somehow clear his name.

Meanwhile, another Trumpet staffer, having picked up one of Holly Dobbs’ left-behind wigs, amuses herself with some newfound gadgetry.  Photography/videography buffs, help me out please: isn’t she wearing a steadicam harness?  Are those designed to work with 1960s-era film cameras like the one she’s holding?

metapost: Ned, Tim and the rest of the TWIM community have taken this blog to another level this week.  Here’s hoping I can keep it up.  Thanks to all for keeping this a going concern.



May 15, 2018

Tales of Idiocy and Imagination

Filed under: actual action, softball, song parody — tdrewhardin @ 4:20 am


Daggone, THAT’S NOT the Alan Parsons Project album [Video removed. You can google it if you’re curious – TimP] was looking for. Why is Gil’s mug, ski-slope hair-do and all, on the front side? Aren’t they going to get in trouble for copyright violations? Well, until a lawsuit is filed in Milford Circuit Court, I’m sure the readership isn’t going to argue with the title, based upon how the plot is progressing(?) so far. Where the heck is that voice box coming from?  And what’s the deal with all this smoke? My goodness, how’d I get to the Milford Baseball Field? I think I’ll have a seat while I sort this out. Oh, my, is that voice box emanating out of one of Moose’s Louisville Slugger’s? Can someone turn that up? Yeah, just rub some more pine tar on it, there, that’s better LOUD AND CLEAR

And at the ballpark

where I am sitting

I heard him cursing at the score

Not really coaching

The plot approaching

A stasis here forevermore

In my amazement

Jay sailed through this one

He defied Moose and Bader’s sores

In spite of Coach Thorp

The team won the war

And we must hear forevermore

Thus quoth Gilberto


Thus quoth Gilberto


And so Gilberto

Remains the head coach

No matter how much we implore

No words of wisdom

No clear-cut system

And we must hear forevermore

Thus quoth Gilberto


Thus quoth Gilberto











Milford Glee Club and Milford Barbershop Quartet and Milford Philharmonic Orchestra and Milford Concert Chorale and Milford Chamber Singers all in unison, helping Ian Bairnson, David Paton, Eric Woolfson, Andrew Powell and the rest of the Project fading into a foregone conclusion.

And do we have a barnburner today. Lotta pitching and throwing with some great hitting and a slam or two. The fielding couldn’t come at a better time. Where would these Lady Mudlarks be without that one imporant element? Oh, the GAME? Did you think I was talking about THAT? No biggie, they won, 4-2.

I will NEVER get used to KRAK!!!!!!! No other comic strip, comic book, comic anything uses that sound. When Little Lotta threw some bully to the ground, it was a SPLAT or a WHAM but never KRAK!!!!!!!!!! Sergeant Snorkel beat up Beetle Bailey with a POW or a BAM. Never did Beetle Bailey wind up on the ground mangled in itty-bitty pieces as a result of a KRAK!!!!! Batman never beat the Joker to  a pulp or for that matter his dirty, grimy gang, y’know, the ones that uncorked the sewer lid and popped out of the manhole, with a KRAK.  And I know Thorpiverse will bail out and say they read it while looking up the word for Erectile Dysfunction in Langenscheidt’s Polynesian Dictionary. I’m sure there’s some monkeys in the Malaysian jungles that KRAK from tree to tree but here in America, we do everything at the CRACK of the bat. There’s no joy in Milford tonight. Mighty Casey has KRAKKED out.

A blood-curdling scream intro into the next song. Gang, I don’t know about you but Marty’s taking his suspension a little too personally.

You should have seen him

bitching and griping ’bout his lineup spot again


You should have seen us

Grinding our teeth in agony and hopeless painnnnnnnnn

And he’ll never get a cluuuueeeeee

He’ll keep acting like a shrewwwwwww

You should have SEEN HIM

Hacking and whiffing at the pitch with no results


You would have gone mad

Moose was a raging bull who swung with no control

And he never made contacccccttttt

Launched his bat without impaccccttttt

rumbling, rumblING, RUMBLING


Trying to get a story at her turn at bat



Even forgot to stick a helmet o’er her hat



I would like to thank the Oakwood High School Concert Orchestra for the extra violins and violas. They truly egged on the crescendo to the finish line. And the ensuing shrieking you hear at the end of the song was traced to the Mudlark bleacher section. Apparently they were attempting in vain to tell Daffy Duck that the umpire was barking “Batter Up!!!!!!”

Head in the game, DD.

“WE INTERRUPT PEYTON PLACE SO THAT WE MAY BRING YOU A SPECIAL BULLETIN!!!!!!!!! We’re here at CNN Studio because we understand an unusual phenomenon was transpiring at the Milford Softball Complex, an event that has the community in the throes of shock. Our own Marjie Ducie is on the scene. Marjie, what can you tell us about the situation.?”

“Fred, I’m standing here at 3rd base where activity was at a virtual standstill. That all changed when Daffy Duck belted a triple to rally the Lady Mudlarks to victory. There wasn’t any activity but it’s like the dugout exploded and caused a medium earthquake, one listed on the Richter Scale of 5.4. The epicenter was determined just beyond the reach of the left fielder, a few feet shy of the warning track. There wasn’t any major damage but the equipment shed collapsed. Officials are still trying to determine the cause. I’ll have more as this story develops. From Milford, this is Marjie Ducie, CNN News.”

“Thank you, Marjie. I’m not certainly not anticipating any more developments anytime soon but we’ll be on standby. Stay tuned, folks.”

And one more throw-in. I could make a case that the ball is going over the fence. Granted, if it DOES stay in play, it’s a triple. But as long as we’re doing  a remake of “The Last Picture Show” where the deadbeats talk about sex and relationships and OH THERE’S A GAME while the Newton left fielder has had her full ATTENTION to the game only to script one of the deadbeats to save the day after being at the gossip fence with Elviney and Loweezy, can we at least keep the trajectory believable? Otherwise, Kirk Gibson in the 1988 World Series hobbles around the bases, pumping his arms in a pulling-the-bow motion in celebration, all for nought, merely credited with a triple. We’d have to film-splice a World Series Moment. No sense in raining on Gibson’s parade. At least let him stand at 3rd base with those gimpy legs.

Gang, I don’t think we’re getting the full story on Marty. They say he’s still vegetating at the Milford Lounge. But we haven’t HEARD from Marty in quite some time. And he never came out of the Lounge. I wonder what’s up

Laid off at ‘DIG for 2 whole weeks or more

Wallowing in his self-pity galore

Unaware that Coach Thorp’s plotting his doom

In the Milford Lounge stinky bath room

Sitting and waiting on the black-seated john

He suddenly notices several chains on

His arms and his legs

Oh, Coach Thorp loves the fact that his enemy’s starting to beggggggg


I’m sorry for saying you can’t coach a doggggggg (I love it now, each brick I lay)

Bring back some mercy, I’m lost in a foggggggg (I love your life slipping away)

“Who laid these bricks in the entrance to the men’s room?”

“I dunno. Did you talk to the manager?”

“…and we’ll back after this message, the Milford Mudlarks coming from behind to win, 4-2. This is WDIG, a division of Lear Field Sports.”

Off the mike

“Not bad, Mr. Green Jeans. I’ll see if can get you on full-time.”

Marty, showing his Baby-Boomer age, is playing Chase’s “Get It On” from the sound system in one of the resort cabins at Mudlark Lake Resort

“Peaches, let’s hit the sheets. You know us men and our urges.”

“Ooohhhhh, Marty, say no more.”

Rips off overcoat, Milford Kohl’s price tag still on the sleeve, then negligee in full view.

Marty drops the Lee Jeans.

Peaches’ mental state is in disarray

“I dumped Curly for this?”

“Peaches, I’m harder than a Klondike Ice Cream Sandwich. Speak now or forever hold your hot flashes.”

“Marty, you haven’t risen past the halfway point. It wouldn’t even flare up to Mickey Mouse’s hand to ride Goofy’s Kiddie Coaster at Disney World.”

“Peaches, I can barely move, I’m so horny. You picked a fine time to get nit-picky.”

“Honey, you need a pencil sharpener more than sex. Thank God, there’s one in the kitchen by the sink.”

“C’mon, let’s get down to business and just pretend. Here comes Moby Dick and he’s gonna sink Captain Ahab’s ship.”

“Marty, the only way I go to bed with you now is if I get a tire pump out of the trunk. I bet I could inflate you up to 30PSI.”


“I’m a woman. I wouldn’t know. All I know is that Objet d’Art wouldn’t get a Participation Trophy at a 6th grade art fair.”

“Have you ever been in double jeopardy? That’s where I was a few weeks ago. I not only fumbled my job at WDIG but my dignity as well. I was determined to get both back. You see, I forfeited half my deposit that night and the algae in the lake swallowed up my dignity. Trust me, it’s no fun getting cussed out by the night manager, especially when he knew the reason. He suggested the Milford Men’s Clinic. He said they had treatment programs guaranteed to work. He also said that if they can’t make a Lincoln Log out of my Oscar Meyer Wiener, don’t bother coming back. He had a waiting list with plenty of firewood just itching to be burned.

I went to the Clinic. And was I amazed!!!! I couldn’t wait to tell Peaches I was ready to add a log to the fire. And you didn’t need Kingsfield Charcoal to get this fire going. Nope, no Matchlite Fluid or Zippo Lighters needed to fan the flames on this branch  of the oak tree. But don’t take my word for it. See how fun it is to get comfortably firm. They even have a money-back guarantee. You and your partner go to Magic Kingdom at Disney World the first night in bed and keep Huey, Dewey, and Louie out of the bed in the bargain, or the program costs nothing. What have you got to lose except your pants?”

…we’ll be stomaching Dr. Moose and Professor Baderrrrrrr.

Fundamentals they don’t know

Playing like it’s a sideshow

Their teammates pray that they part compannnyyyy

…good riddance to those Bozos

See the ball game in a new way…

That’s the wrong album!!!!!! It’s “Tales of MYSTERY and Imagination”. I didn’t think they could wrap all that cellophane around Gil’s pompadour. Just sayin’ Be that as it may, comment away. I’m going to enjoy “To One in Milford” as the plot heads off into the sunset. Maybe there’s a cliff nearby. And what are those wild white horses doing running the alleys of Milford? Just enjoy the song, T. Drew, and get your usual rush.

Behind Milford Foundry, while construction crews work on expansion of the building, Amontillado is excavated. The chains are removed from the skeleton. One crew member is said to have commented to his colleague

“Man, that dude had one funky beard.”

Fall of the House of Milford, indeed.

May 14, 2018

What DaFonte?

Filed under: actual action, freak hands, softball — nedryerson @ 5:45 am


It’s time again to sprinkle in a little softball, that is, further conversations about Barry Bader by Dafne DaFonte and friend.

What else can we talk about? The Newton Railers drove from Kansas. On the playing field, Dafne pulls some of her hair back into a ponytail but leaves those long tresses dangling from her temples. In the color version, Dafne had a darker skin tone than her teammates. Drawing chain link fencing or whatever that mesh is behind the foreground characters involves some rule of when it should be visible and when it should just get whited out to avoid intrusion into composition, or maybe sometimes the artist just runs out of time. Look at Dafne’s thumb and foreshortened index finger. Weird, right?

August 31, 2017

Not-so-fast Times at Milf High


Oh snap! You mean a 30-year-old is able to give an 18-year-old some career advice for once? Is the Thorpiverse becoming less parallel? Somebody pinch me!

When did Heather and softball ever appear in the same sentence in this strip to date? Did the fact that, in Milford, you can ditch softball practice for “journalism” with no ill effects influence her decision? Or is it her understanding that softball and soccer are the only coaching options for women in this country? What about, you know, basketball? You can coach that in Milford without experience; just ask Steve Luhm and Bobby Howry. Maybe Jaquan wants her to coach him.

We’ve had a field day with the badly drawn vehicles in the strip this week. Today Heather’s car looks like the love child of a last-generation Ford Focus and a Subaru Baja.  I’m never quite sure if this is cartoonists’ way of avoiding IP infringement claims, but Rex Morgan‘s Terry Beatty seems to be able to draw a reasonable facsimile of a Mercedes-Benz GL-Class SUV, so take that however you will.

Enough for today; I need to find a sports bar with ACC Network Extra so I can watch True Standish’s Demon Deacons host the mighty Blue Hose this evening.

July 8, 2017

That’s “Dafne.” “Hello” is my kitty’s name.


I will refrain from falling back on my go-to “Who saw that coming?” from Black Dynamite except to say, well, I saw that coming.

Now that that’s out of the way, hey, sports! Well, sorta. Not only did laissez-faire Mimi let Daffy back onto the field after that fiasco, she let her take infield. Some of the other Lady Mudlarks must have run off from practice after being distracted by something or other.

I notice Drafty has a soccer ball in her room. Maybe Heather Burns left it behind for her. Anyhoo, while we await a week of hand-waving at Milford losses and Dafonte’s print mea culpa, we can at least have fun speculating on what misogynistic fun and games await us for the next eight weeks thereafter.


June 3, 2017

What It Is Ain’t Exactly Clear


Ladies and gentlemen, today’s strip offers classic laissez-faire Thorp coaching at its finest.  Ryan “Hurricane” Van Auken is getting rocked like a, uh, well, you know, while Gil leaves him in there to twist in the wind.  This prompts random Milford guy – is it the same one who answered the phone in the Journalism Office? – to run and tell Dafne, who’s at softball practice. (Interesting that there are ads on the practice field outfield fence; must be a lot of marketing money to spare floating around in Milford.)

The now elfin Dafne, looking a bit the daughter of Namor, suddenly finds herself incontinent drops everything and runs off to see what’s going down.  Does Mimi even acknowledge Dafne’s defection?  Hell no!  She doesn’t even look so much Dafne’s way! Mimi needs to grow a pair like that Coach Dawes and tell Dafne to go do what she loves but never darken a softball field again.

May 11, 2017

Shakes, the Clown


So Jimmy Caruso has eyes on Dafne Dafonte and Carrie Hobson has eyes on Rex Hudler Hurdler Gary Meola, who doesn’t have eyes on her but is gonna pretend to have eyes on her to help Caruso out in true wingman fashion, or something like that.  If we didn’t have all that exposition leading up to today, we might be led to believe that Dafne and Carrie only have eyes for each other.  Dafne has already made her disdain for track and field well known, so why is she going along with this ruse?  To play wingwoman for Carrie, of course, and to mooch a free post-game milkshake off Caruso at The Bucket.

Ah, post-game milkshakes at The Bucket: not just for no-hitter batteries anymore! Then again, were they ever? Considering the last time that happened one of the batterymates got killed, I doubt that’s a tradition that will be revived in Milford anytime soon.  Gotta find the silver linings in the cloud that hovers over Milford softball in the post-Boo Radley era where you can, and if they come in the form of budding romance I guess that’ll have to do.

May 10, 2017

Help Your Buddy Out?

Filed under: general nonsense, Just plain sad, Milford Idiots, softball — timbuys @ 6:59 am


Ho boy… Sorry folks but I don’t have the stomach for teenage romantic hi-jinks this morning.

I do find it kinda amusing that Gary is still complaining about/questioning the reason why he is attending the game as they are walking up the sidewalk that leads directly to the batter’s cage in panel one.

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