Chickaluki Character Profiles: A Diary Entry From Ralph Waldo Buckwalter

The world of Chickaluki is continuing to grow, and it’s only right that you get to know some of its Citizens on a first name basis.

Aside from being a stand up comedian, author, podcaster, etc, I am also the chief genealogist for the beautiful town of Chickaluki, and as such am surrounded by old files, photos, books, you name it, all pertaining to the city and its people.

While Act 2 of Here We Rest is being penned (exploring the dark underbelly of Chickaluki) I thought it would be fair to the community to showcase some of their lighter and less controversial fair.

With his permission of course, today I bring you the latest diary entry from one of Chickaluki’s most reclusive enigmas, (he told me to say that) Mr Ralph Waldo Buckwalter.

Here it is, unedited, and unabridged. Enjoy!

From The Diary of Ralph Waldo Buckwalter: Lifelong Resident of Chickaluki

I finally got up this morning after my neighbor’s rooster wouldn’t shut its damn mouth. Perciville is a good man and I reckon I wouldn’t want nobody else to live there, but damn it all if his yard don’t look like a yard sale bein put on by a mob of critters. Aside from all the yard birds struttin around like they own the place, he’s got 27 cats if he’s got a one. I suppose they just keep showing up and generous as he is, he keeps a feedin em, but lord have mercy the money that man must spend on canned tuna!

Cats are funny things. I don’t know if I care for em too much. I think I believe all them superstitions about the black ones. They look at ya plum in your soul and take a piece of you with em I’m convinced of it. That’s why their eyes are all yella like. You know who else’s eyes is all yella like? Snakes, and the devil, that’s who! And of course my Uncle Rayford, he’s got yella eyes but that’s from years of chuggin that ole rot-gut like it was damn hose water! Sum bitch looks like he’s got two One balls off a pool table on either side of that prodigious honker of his. Momma always said his nose was so big, he could smell tomorrow’s farts today.

I’ve gotta get down to the post office today but lord I don’t want to. If I don’t mail off this letter to Ashely Furniture soon, then I don’t think I will qualify for that rebate they was goin on about when I got this new recliner. This thing bout beats all I ever seen I tell you what. Before last week I woulda never known that it was a chair you could fit 6 Bud Heavy Tall boys in and them stay cold, but now I don’t know how I ever lived without it. Episodes of The Rifleman sure are more fun to watch when you ain’t having to pause it every 15 minutes to quench your thirst I’ll tell ya that! Yessir, ole Ralph Waldo Buckwalter is finally shittin in high cotton I tell you what! I might outta forgive them roosters for gettin me up so early. When life is this good, who wants to sleep thru it?

Aunt Pauline came over yesterday to tell me that somebody I didn’t know had died. Course she don’t believe me that I don’t know em. I told her that just because she ain’t got nothing better to do than thumb through old church directories and the obituaries, that don’t mean I ain’t got a life! Does she think being the 3rd alternate on weekends for the neighborhood watch is just something you can take lightly? I have a responsibility to my fellow neighbors to make myself available in the event that several other more qualified people are rendered incapacitated, and I take that responsibility very seriously.

Before I was kicked out of Junior ROTC for using a magnifying glass to set the climbing rope on fire when Fat-Peggy was trying to climb it, I showed a great aptitude towards knot tying, log jumping, and all sorts of other skills that would come in handy if faced in a situation of combat in order to protect the integrity of my neighborhood. I also open carry a gun that I’m technically not allowed to have, but who don’t?

Aunt Pauline also told me that she was working on redrafting and finalizing her Will. I don’t know why she’s telling me that, she wouldn’t give me nothing even if she had something to give. Course I reckon she’ll think it’s some things she’s got that I feel sentimental about. But I’ll tell her like I’m bout to tell you: any amount of sentimentality I ever had got beat outta me at the junior league Tae Kwon Doe academy. Master Sensei Brantley said that the only things we should hold on to is stuff we can grab and go in less than 5 minutes whenever the poop hits the fan. As for me that’s a bag filled with clothes. Mostly sweat pants and stuff with draw strings. I fluctuate weight on account of the roid in my thigh or whatever it was the doctor said, I can’t remember. I haven’t paid attention since they gave the job to a woman. It’s not that I don’t think a woman can be a doctor, I do. Hell a woman doctor can be just as wrong and propagandized as a man doctor if she puts her mind to it. The real reason I tend to tune her out is that when she took over the practice and had all her patients redo their physicals, I popped a stiffy when she told me to slide down my britches.

My buddies say it ain’t nothing to be embarrassed about, and some even go as far as to say it’s good that she knows what I’m working with down there. The way society is nowadays, men are too scared to even say hello to a woman out of fear that they might get fired from their job, or have a strongly worded post written about them on the internet. So they figure some women are dying for attention and respect a brave man that bucks the status quo.

The reason I was embarrassed though is cause I’d forgot it was doctor day and I was wearing my Sponge Bob Square pants boxer/briefs that’s got Squidwards nose printed right there on the dick hole

Anyways, I’m gonna have me a little supper and see if I can’t catch the tail end of this ball game on the radio. Maybe I’ll get outta the house tomorrow. Chickaluki is so pretty this time a year.

- Ralph Waldo Buckwalter

More later.

Corey

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