Blathr Wayne Lorentz

What is Blathr?

Blathring in March, 2020

Too poorly run to fail

Monday, March 16th, 2020 Alive 17,856 days

The big airlines want taxpayers to bail them out because of the impact of COVID-19.

Maybe we should learn a lesson from the big banking bailouts of last decade, and add some conditions to this bailout. Like requiring better service and facilities, instead of just allowing megacorps to blow billions on self-serving stock buybacks.

“I don’t think we’re ever going to lose money again.”

— American Airlines C.E.O in 2017
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Some problems solve themselves

Sunday, March 15th, 2020 Alive 17,855 days

Perhaps all of the troglodytes who think COVID-19 isnʼt a big deal should come together in solidarity. Perhaps in a tightly-packed convention center.

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Soon youʼll have to hunt for food

Saturday, March 14th, 2020 Alive 17,854 days

Dying of dysentery in The Oregon Trail on an Apple ][

The reason all of the Gen-Xers are loading up on toilet paper is because as children they were scarred by The Oregon Trail.

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Try a goldendoodle

Friday, March 13th, 2020 Alive 17,853 days

People who donʼt understand stocking up on toilet paper must be people who have never have been stuck inside for a couple of days because of a snowstorm.

Attention, California: You canʼt wipe your butt with your fashion accessory chihuahua.

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Thursday, March 12th, 2020 Alive 17,852 days

Overheard in Albertsons today: “Maddysyn! If you donʼt behave, Iʼm going to send you to school!”

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Crickets

Sunday, March 8th, 2020 Alive 17,848 days

The good thing about the plague is that itʼs made things quiet again.

When I first moved to this block, almost all of the homes were military households; mostly Air Force and Nevada National Security Site people (mathematicians, nuclear physicists). Couples, no kids. It was always so silent around here, and I would sit on my bench on the front stoop and read my newspapers in peace.

Then last year all of the military households were relocated en masse. New people moved in. An architect family. A massage therapist family. A guy running some kind of fleaBay business out of his garage. A family from New York via Malawi, Frankfurt, and Copenhagen. Ordinary people and many many kids.

As recently as last weekend, the block was alive after 3pm and on weekends. The guy tinkering on his car. The knot of ladies and their fashion accessory dogs. The guy flying model airplanes and home-made drones at the end of the street. Mexican polka music wafting through the palm trees. And about 20 children running, jumping, throwing things, and playing at murdering one another. Noise. Noise Noise.

Now everyone is afraid to go outside. The block is silent. Once again, the block belongs to me, my newspapers, and my coffee.

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Friday, March 6th, 2020 Alive 17,846 days

Right now, in preparation for our move in two months, Darcie is using a vintage Polaroid to take pictures of each pair of her shoes.

Itʼs pretty much the most Darcie thing Iʼve seen in a long time.

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🐢

Thursday, March 5th, 2020 Alive 17,845 days

A tortoise crossing sign

For four miles, I saw no tortoises. I feel ripped off.

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“…his middle name was ʼTrouble!ʼ”

Sunday, March 1st, 2020 Alive 17,841 days

A copy of the book Two Gun Trail

Iʼm at a coffee shop with nothing to do for four hours. Good thing I keep emergency brain-rotting material in the car.

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