BlathrWayne Lorentz

Today Darcie learned that January is scorpion mating season.

Nobody tell her that tomorrow starts tarantula mating season.

Mark your calendars for the Avocado Supermoon next month!

Todayʼs breakfast is the Star Wars of bagels: It has a light side, and a dark side.

Also, I need a new toaster.

Iʼve noticed an increase in empty shelves and lack of product choices at Target, Safeway, and Kroger stores over the last six months.

Itʼs starting to look a little Soviet out there.

Today I learned that Target doesnʼt carry silver polish.

I guess Target thinks itʼs unlikely its shoppers would own silver.

I guess I should just be glad that nobody uses the “finger” command anymore.

Because Fiat electrical systems are steaming piles of blown-out Pampers, Iʼve had enough practice that I can now change a headlight on Darcieʼs car in under eight minutes.

If you ever wondered what Millennials will ruin next, here it is.

New neighbors are moving in across the street. Last night the parents arrived. This morning a big Bekins truck arrived. This afternoon, the kids arrived. I guess every day is Halloween in that house now.

So this guy rolls up on his motorcycle, pulls a suit bag out of his pannier and hangs it in a tree. Then he pulls out a big tub of Windex Wipes and gives himself a full bath — underbits and all — while standing in the parking lot. Then he unzips the suit bag, puts on a tuxedo, and walks away down the street. Ta da!

What do you do if youʼre a New York ballerina who reopens an abandoned opera house in the middle of the desert all by yourself? You paint your own audience members and support dancers.

Darcie was disappointed with my man skills when I had to look in the Fiat manual app to find out how to turn on the carʼs defroster.

Worst. Hotel. Entrance. Ever. This is why I valet.

Darcie bought a new necklace to match the one she has on. Her old necklace is Navajo silver. Her new necklace is Hi-Ho silver.

Darcie hates that joke.

30° air. 105° pool. And thereʼs more minerals in the spring-fed pool than in the rocks they built the hotel with.

How did the pre-printed valet ticket know that I drive a red 500? Spooky!

• Good: The Timbisha Shoshone indians have opened the first business on their new reservation: a taco stand.
• Bad: Iʼm the only one here.
• Worse: A taco costs ten bucks.

Minutes later, the place filled up with hungry tourists. With the white manʼs government shut down, this is about the only food available in this part of Death Valley.

Am I in the way of your picture?

How about now?

How about now?

How about now?

How about now?

I wanted to take Darcie horseback riding, but she wonʼt go because she didnʼt pack her ranch dressing.

Darcie hates that joke.

When I heard that California legalized pot, I knew I couldnʼt stop Darcie.

She hates that joke.

I once suggested we frame Darcieʼs underpants and hang them on the wall. But she didnʼt like the idea until she saw it just now. I guess Darcieʼs just a late bloomer.

She hates that joke.

This isnʼt the worst motel Darcie and I have stayed in. But it could be a tie.

I wonʼt complain about the peeling paint because it looks like thatʼs the only thing holding up the 1923 adobe walls.

This is not usually the first thing you want to see when arriving at a motel. But the lace curtains take the edge off.

Darcie rocks. That is all.

The fire department left 60 years ago, but the johnny pump remains.

In the event of a fire, proceed quickly and calmly to the emergency exit. Then run uphill over gravel for half a mile in your pajamas.

Death Valley is kind of a schist hole.

Darcie hates that joke.

Itʼs a New York museum in the middle of the desert. Because… art!

After a hard nightʼs haunting, this is where ghost town ghosts go to kick back and relax.

You know your California town is small when the phone service comes from Nevada.

When the Tidewater and Tonopah railroad left Death Valley Junction, it took the tracks but left the ore depot.

25? She wishes.

She looks so happy. Nobody tell Darcie sheʼs standing in wild horse poop.

The nearest cell phone service is seven miles away. But the motel has wifi, which also has to travel the same distance. And every time the wind blows, it goes out.

It hasnʼt rained in this part of the desert in a month, yet there are puddles everywhere.

This motel is appealing. Itʼs also a-cracking and a-crumbling.

Darcie hates that joke.

People pay Restoration Hardware big bucks to get this look.

I like places where I feel like I should tiptoe to the car with my luggage because the town is so quiet.

If I had a brazillion dollars, I wouldnʼt have a kitchen. Iʼd have a diner built into my house. And every morning Iʼd have diner coffee.

♫ Iʼve got friends in low places… ♫

I shall drink rum and read a Los Angeles Times here.

Evening cocktails overlooking Badwater Basin.

Elevation: -281 feet.

Weather: Overcast, with scattered fighter jets.

And thatʼs pretty much what happened.

The next stagecoach to Tonopah will be… delayed.

You think your soccer mom Escalade is the shit? Make way for my 11-wheeled, steam-powered borax wagon!

Darcie spends a quiet evening writing postcards in the hotel library.

Thatʼs not snow covering the ground. Itʼs borax. Do not lick.

Itʼs a good thing the motel has this sign in the bathroom. Because I was totally going to park my car in the toilet.

After a full day without cell phone service, a desperate Darcie resorts to scrounging around phone booths looking for Facebook access.

This helpful gubʼmint sign lists the amenities in all of the villages in the Greater Meteopolitan Death Valley Meteoplex.

Notice that there are more places to swim than use your cell phone.

And thatʼs pretty much what happened.

Here we see the elusive Yellow Haired Picture Snapper in her native habitat. Letʼs watch as she stalks her prey.

I sent my mom something from this place last month. She said it was the best Christmas present she ever received.

I guess I wasted six hours of my life with all that macaroni and Elmerʼs glue back in 1975.

One centuryʼs garbage dump is another centuryʼs historic artifact.

Cleaning up this garbage dump is now a crime.

What happens when a bunch of 1920ʼs miners have to live in a place with no trees? They carve an apartment building out of a cliff!

Amazingly, this isnʼt the worst toilet Darcie and I have come across in our travels.

I just had coffee with a guy who said, “When you get be to our age — yours and mine…”

Heʼs 70. Which means I must be a rough looking 40-something.

The more e-mail I get, the less inclined I am to check my e-mail. Funny how that works.

If I was a good husband, Iʼd fix Darcieʼs car like I promised to. But for now I just stand in the driveway when she comes home and sing that Wallflowers song at her.

“Random crashes without meaningful explanation” sounds like pretty much every bit of technology these days.

You should never feel bad about the car you drive. Unless you drive this.

Then even the Wienermobile is laughing.

Always get behind the self-driving cars. Computers know which lane is the fastest.

Self-driving cars in Nevada have special license plates that start with “AU.”

Happy cat, or dead bug? You decide.

I donʼt think Iʼve ever mentioned that my neighbors are super smart. This is why.

I guess if I never take pictures of dogs, my phone has no reference point to work from.

Perhaps it thinks “Dog = ugly cat.”