When I strut from the grocery store to my car, I like to think that I have all my shit together and am looking fine, that I'm a cool cat that makes all the other shoppers glancing my way say "hot damn!"

But I have come to realize that I'm not so much John Travolta carrying paint as I am that guy at the start of the infomercial lacking the manual dexterity to place toast inside the toaster, a stereotypically fat American Mr. Bean.

Reality is a harsh mistress.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Tags: walter

In its entirety, the text message from my aunt reads

Hey, Have you been ducked?

Of all the things I could have possibly guessed she meant, one thing that definitely did not occur to me was this:

source: npr.org

Apparently, placing a rubber duck on someone else's Jeep as a "compliment" has become a thing in 2023. Great. One more thing to dread.

The primary reason I leave my house as rarely as possible is because I don't enjoy interacting with other people. I don't mind that they exist, you understand, because I appreciate that many of those people make the amenities that make my life more comfortable. But I don't want to have to talk them. And I certainly don't want them to put anything on my vehicle.

That feels... invasive.

So if you want to trade petroleum-based products with other likeminded duckers, be my guest. But please leave me and my Jeep out of your water sports, people.

Comments (2) | Leave a Comment | Tags: family jeep kelley news walter

I had a dream last night in which I was in a romantic relationship with a human woman, and it was kind of nice. Was that the point of the dream? I don't know. Do dreams have points? In any event, it made me consider whether I should look into being in a romantic relationship again.

Of course, any potential candidates would have to meet a few basic qualifications first. Obviously she'd have to like dogs, laugh at my good jokes, and at least tolerate football and video games. I'd prefer a girl better looking and smarter than I am, but I'll settle for average looks and significantly-better-than-average intelligence. Brightly-colored dyed hair is a plus.

If I found someone like that, before we went on a date, she'd have to answer the following brief questionnaire:

1. When is the right time of year to wear open-toed shoes?
2. Which of Alfred Hitchcock's movies is the best?
3. How early is too early for stores to start selling Halloween decorations in advance of Halloween?
4. Marvel or DC?
5. What's the proper response to "We don't have Coke. Is Pepsi Okay?"

If there is a woman alive who can pass those criteria, honestly, she probably deserves better than me. Live long and prosper, awesome lady!

For the record, correct answers are 1. Never; 2. My personal preference is Rope but I'll accept anything but Vertigo; 3. September 23; 4. DC; and 5. Burn the place down and salt the ashes.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Tags: coke dreams walter women

Despite my intention to post something here every two days, my last post was on the 22nd. Before that, I slid a day on each of the 14th and 19th. Three missed posts in one month is not a great sign about my desire or motivation.

The question I have to ask myself is "why am I not keeping to my intended posting schedule?" There haven't been any practical obstacles. My Internet connection has been fast and stable since the router changeover debacle last month. (Although, it ironically went out in the middle of my typing this, so I've just come back from taking a shower.) And it's not like I've been on vacation. With all the work I have right now, I'm barely away from my keyboard for any more than a few hours at any time, including sleep!

I'm wondering if that may be the problem. With so much to do at my desk, maybe I'm just not interested in sitting here typing up my frivolous thoughts when I could instead be on the sofa watching a frivolous movie or playing a frivolous video game. I haven't painted or written in months, either. It's hard to find "free" time when all I can think is "I should be coding right now."

On the other hand, blogging is a hobby. If I don't feel like doing it, maybe I just shouldn't do it. But maybe the better solution is to quit the jobs that are taking all my time, even if they are paying really, really well.

To be an ant or a grasshopper, that is the question. Whose is the more interesting tombstone? The ant's is built of more durable stone, but the grasshopper's is a better read.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Tags: death walter wriphe.com

Yes, I know there should have been a post yesterday, but I seem to be having trouble reaching my website. This *may* be because I *might* have accidently triggered what the server thought was a DDoS attack against myself by way of an unintentionally careless code loop. Oops.

This shouldn't be so frustrating to me. Obviously, the site still works. I can reach it via my phone, so there's no cause for panic. And I have other means for testing what I was testing when things went sideways. But gee, whiz, it's really stuck in my craw that it's currently out of my reach.

"C'est la vie," say the old folks. It goes to show you never can tell.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Tags: walter wriphe.com

Dear Diary,

Today I saw Seth Meyers perform stand-up comedy at Atlanta Symphony Hall. He was *so* funny. I laughed so hard, I spit.

His act was mostly jokes at the expense of his family, especially his wife and kids. There were also bits about the Muppets, the pandemic, weddings, and sports. There was no explicit talk about Late Night, which remains on hiatus during the ongoing writers strike.

I sat in the front of the Logue Left section, which gave a great view of the stage. I had the middle of five seats, but I did not know my seat neighbors. I went alone. So far as I could tell, I was the only person in the whole auditorium who did.

I didn't even ask if any of my friends might want to accompany me. I usually watch late night talk shows alone, so I jumped ahead to the conclusion that I didn't need any company to enjoy this, either. I'm glad to report that I was right.

John Oliver is coming to the Fox Theater later this summer. Since there's no sign that Last Week Tonight will be filming new episodes by then, I might have to go to that, too.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Tags: atlanta dear diary georgia seth meyers television walter

We had another thunderstorm rumble through an hour ago, which means my Internet+cable is out. Again. It hadn't cut out since the big power outage last month, so I guess it was overdue. The dream remains two consecutive months of uninterrupted service.

This week has been nothing but problems: the AC went out, my poison ivy has turned to full-body hives, now this.... I'm looking for a bright side here, but all I've got are more rain clouds.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Tags: blackout internet walter

My air conditioner has died, and the house is hot. It could be worse, I suppose. It could be August.

Of course, if I was Superman, this wouldn't be a problem. For one thing, I'd be invulnerable to heat, but I'd also have Super-Breath, which I could use to cool the house.

You may recall that Superman used his freeze breath to turn a lake to ice so that he could put out a fire at a chemical plant in Superman III. He first used that power decades earlier in Superman #129, May 1959:

You'll note that Superman debuts this power twenty years into his career only because his own previous Space Souvenirs are threatened. What, Jimmy Olsen never deserved a popsicle?

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Tags: comic books superman walter

It probably won't come as a surprise to you if you've seen my latest poodle strip, but as is usual for springtime, I have a terrible case of poison ivy. This year's bout, no doubt thanks to the helpful paws of underbrush-romping Louis, is the kind of rash that makes me wonder how much life is actually worth living. (There must be some reason so many people are taking fentanyl, right?)

Most people seem to think that cortisone cream makes poison ivy feel better, and maybe it does... for them. For me, all cortisone cream does is take the itch away so that I can feel only pain. "Burning" and "stinging" sensations are on-the-warning-label common side effects of cortisone cream, and I feel both. I'm left with the choice is to scratch myself to death or self-immolate like a Vietnamese war protestor. Thank you, medical science.

I've always had a problem with poison ivy. As a child, I believed it must be contagious, and for many years after, I believed that the rash spread through the bloodstream. In about 2010, a very grumpy doctor finally convinced me that "contact dermatitis" can only result from surface contact with the irritant, but that only deepens the mystery of how I get rashes where I get them. Last month it was on my scalp. It was ugly; even Sitting Bull wouldn't have taken it.

My current worst rash spot is right on my belt line, which makes makes the socially-approved custom of wearing pants feel like something out of the Spanish Inquisition. My solution, obviously, is to not wear pants, which would only be acceptable if I lived in a society that still killed criminals with hemlock. I have a rare, in-person meeting scheduled for this tomorrow. Boy, are they going to be surprised.

If the march of human history is leading us to a global warming heat death, bring it on. So long as all the world's vegetation dies with us, great! I hate poison ivy.

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Tags: illness louis poodles walter

In hindsight, the biggest problem of my frequent blog posts complaining about the misguided preponderance of the poop emoji in unnecessary consumer goods is the undesired side effect of friends and family thinking that I actually want to encounter more of it.

For example, this is an actual gift that I received this past Christmas:

I will protect the anonymity of which of my mother's sisters thought this would be fun for Walter, but I will tell you that it's the same one who gave me a dancing penis pickle.

For the record, please do not buy things for me with the poop emoji on them. In fact, don't buy anything for me unless I explicitly ask you to. There's too damn much crap in this world already.

Also for the record, what inspired today's post (in addition to a desire to clean out my pictures folder) was the discovery of a poop emoji mousepad at Big Lots. Who needs that? Seriously. Who uses mousepads anymore?

Comments (0) | Leave a Comment | Tags: christmas family holidays kelley piles of shit walter