The return of Wally Hill

More stories from Wally Hill

Belittle your burdens
November 21, 2023
Back in business
October 19, 2023
Wally wisdom
December 4, 2022
To be Wally:
October 24, 2022
The+staff+of+the+Chatterbox+has+been+proud+to+serve+the+Walnut+community+since+1922.+

Wally Hill

The staff of the Chatterbox has been proud to serve the Walnut community since 1922.

Every year, Wally Hill travels deep within the mountains of the Himalayas to live and meditate with the hidden civilization of ancient Chatterboxers. Through this cycle, Wally finds himself, and his voice, and eventually says goodbye to the Chatterboxers as he descends back into human society to write articles for The Chatterbox.

Unfortunately, most of the time Wally’s articles, despite all of his or her training, come out worse than the rest of The Chatterbox. Keep in mind this is the same paper that once printed the same article twice on one page. Being dumber than the sacks of rocks that run this publication is quite a feat.

So when I was chosen as Wally Hill, I instead went to Tijuana and partied, then took a nice, long nap. I was content with letting this tradition fade to dust. But since Matthew Youkilis and his army of sweaty Chatterbox dorks have been breathing down my neck for the last five months begging for an article, I finally decided to just get something out there.

But part of my issue is what to write about. I can’t just be mean; the teachers are just too strange. Politics is too derisive this year, and I mean, once Kanye pulled out #Blexit, I think satire writers everywhere gave up trying.

So this year, I’m answering your questions, Wally Hill, a la Piper Peanut, but without the aforementioned dorkiness. All you have to do is send me a question, any question, at thewallyhill@gmail.com, and I will do my best to answer at least one question an issue. I don’t really care what question you ask. It could be about how to revive your dead grandmother, or maybe where is the best place to kick Nick Robertson to inflict the most pain. The choice is yours.

As is tradition, Mrs. G.P., the Chatterbox advisor, has locked me in her rather moist basement for a full year to ensure that my identity is not leaked until she deems me ready. So forgive me if I go off the rails a few times. She’s been feeding me nothing but pizza crust and used toilet water. Luckily, this arrangement leaves me plenty of time to answer all your questions. Please send help.