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Weak XXXV

28 August 2024

No. 8,960 (cartoon)

I always thought it might be like this after all those nights alone.

Nightmares really can come true.

29 August 2024

Think Irrational Thoughts

Minnisha apologized for showing up for lunch “in zombie mode” because she had problems sleeping through the night. I pride myself on being an empathetic friend, but I have to admit that I sleep well at night as well as during naps. (I don’t like to brag, and I wasn’t. As Dizzy Dean said, “It ain't bragging if you can do it.”)

“When I can’t sleep I think I think irrational thoughts until they evolve into dreams,” I explained.

“How can you rationally think irrational thoughts?” she asked.

“You’re right,” I agreed, “that doesn’t make any sense. It must be a gift!”

30 August 2024

Sloth Fever

One of the great things about being an American is that nothing is ever your fault. Or mine either. Here’s a recent example: it turns out that I’m not lazy after all! I have Sloth Fever; that explains everything!

The World Health Organization warns that the risk level of Oropouche virus (the fancy name for Sloth Fever) is high in the Americas, an alarm echoed by the US Centers for Disease Control and Prevention in a recent health advisory.

I feel another wave of Sloth Fever coming over me, gotta go now ...

31 August 2024

Where Did August Go?

I can’t believe that I lost track of a month, but that’s what I did. Oh well, it’s too late to start looking for it now, especially since it’s too dark to see anything.

1 September 2024

Thalassophobia

Alan McKenna has an affliction I’ve never heard of, something called thalassophobia, “a fear of deep and dark bodies of water.” Now this is where things get confusing ...

He spends his days at Loch Ness looking for the damn monster. Wouldn’t that make him a thalassophiliac? I wonder if he can be both. I suppose this is why therapists spend years in school. If he ever visits San Francisco I’ll take him to the submarine races; I think he’d enjoy that too. Unless, of course, it terrified him.

2 September 2024

By the Time the Interstellar Marauders Heard the Bowling Ball Thundering Toward Their Hideout It Was Too Late

I might like my latest piece, By the Time the Interstellar Marauders Heard the Bowling Ball Thundering Toward Their Hideout It Was Too Late. That’s probably my longest title ever, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.

Coming next weak: more of the same.

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©2024 David Glenn Rinehart