The lesson learned from 10 years of self portraits? Smart phone cameras sure have come a long way.

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After winning 2 consecutive National Championships, the University of Georgia football program has rewarded its loyal season ticket holders with a schedule consisting of traditional rivals Auburn, Vanderbilt, Florida, Tennessee, and Georgia Tech... all on the road. (Florida is the "home" team when the World's Largest Cocktail Party is played in odd-numbered years at the "neutral" site inside the state of Florida).

By comparison, the home schedule is UT Martin, Ball State, South Carolina, UAB, Kentucky, Missouri, and Mississippi. This is, without a doubt and by a very wide margin, the worst home schedule I've seen in my two decades as a season ticket holder. Mississippi is the only game with any promise of being a worthwhile watch, and I'm sure I could get pretty damn good seats to that for much, much less than what I paid for the entire slate. ($1,720 this year, if you're keeping track at home.)

I figured if any of those unworthy cupcakes was going to make for a fun experience, it would be the opener against UT Martin, with the debut of UGA XI "Boom" (following this week's unexpected death of Sonny Seiler), a rare 6PM kickoff, and a crowd eager to celebrate the 2022 National Title.

I was wrong.

In November of last year, I made a note to myself that games like the 2022 contest against Tennessee (ranked No. 1 at the time) were the reason I annually buy season tickets. Games like this are the reason no one should.

UGA rightfully treated the game against the NCAA Division I FCS Skyhawks like a glorified practice, with Mike Bobo's patented vanilla play-calling and an offense that looked like they could have used a few more weeks of minicamp. The shadows advanced down the field faster than either team. The word "boring" doesn't quite describe how uninspiring it all was. I've had more fun watching Pop Warner drills. If Georgia played like that against an SEC opponent, well, no one would be talking about three-peating, that's for sure.

What was worse was that UGA has now closed Gillis Bridge overlooking the West end zone on game days, which also closes our traditional route into the game. When we did finally arrive inside Sanford Stadium, Mom quickly overheated in the blaring late afternoon sun. So we left as the band cleared the field at halftime, having had a simply dismal experience. Given that a total time of 3 hours and 40 minutes would pass before the final whistle was blown (in a game that was televised to a very limited streaming audience but with a full complement of television commercials), I'm certain we made the right call.

Maybe I'll go back when a competent SEC team comes to town... in November.

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This is the 3,606th post at Wriphe.com. Well, actually, there were somewhat more than that; the earliest posts were uploaded via a flat file to be rendered in (now-defunct) shockwave format, and I periodically overwrote the file with updated content for the first 6 months or so. I'm sure that those lost posts weren't particularly noteworthy, and it's important for me to remember that what I am typing right now is just as pointless and ephemeral.

They say that the Internet is forever, but that's far from true. Digital doesn't outlast paper, and even stone eventually turns to sand. One day, my lease of this domain will lapse and/or my web host will stop serving this content. Then all of these 3,606 posts (plus however many else I get around to before then) will disappear. Presumably, when that happens, I won't be in any state to care.

I have never believed that everything (or even most) that I post is deep or insightful. Or interesting to anyone but me. The world should not mourn the loss of my drivel.

It's encouraging to hope that something I've posted will leave a lasting impression on someone somewhere, if only for a little while. But I don't think that really matters. Wriphe should be enjoyed each moment as it is encountered, without regard for the future or past.

So if you think this post sucks, just forget about it. Come back in a few days, and I'll have something new. That's just how Wriphe works.

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It seems that every news outlet today is reporting that Flamingo (a time management app) reported that the most common Sick Day in America (according to their data) is August 24.

First of all, congratulations to Flamingo for getting their product's name in everyone's mouth. I see what you did there. I didn't previously know what a "paid time off" app was, and I do now. Good job, guys. Someone was working hard on August 24th.

Secondly, I believe it. (Judging from the amount of coverage this "news" got, so do most other people.) Late August is too blisteringly hot, humid, and uncomfortable to work outside, and school just got back in, introducing everyone to strains of disease that had been developing in secluded households over the summer. It's a perfect storm!

Personally, I'm still doing work today, even though I don't want to. Frankly, I'm a bit depressed, which may be a result of working too hard and getting too little sleep for the past few days/weeks. I could probably use a day off.

If only there was an app that could help me schedule something....

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It's Little League World Series time again, hooray!

Now if only I could figure out how to work the remote control without a thumb....

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While we were changing my bandage yesterday, I asked Mom to help me get a picture for the blog.

"No one wants to see your wounded thumb," said Mom.

So nothing to see here. Move along. Move along.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

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