
WiFiPotato
Started as a potato just trying to get one bar in the back bedroom. Now runs an entire emotional support network out of a hallway closet.
One bar of signal, five bars of hopeCartoon parody art about Wi-Fi, AI, and modern life—starring one very overwhelmed potato.

It started small. One potato, one apartment, one router blinking amber for reasons it refused to disclose. The potato tried the hallway. The potato tried the chair. The potato tried holding the router above its head like an offering to an ancient network god.
Somewhere between the fourth reboot and the ninety-first notification, the potato stopped being about Wi-Fi and started being about all of it — the tabs, the pings, the AI that keeps offering to optimize a life you were only barely living.
WiFiPotato is a joke that hugs you back. It laughs at modern tech burnout without ever laughing at the person living it.
Jokes that land on the second read too.
We are also the potato. Obviously.
Tangled cables, warm blanket energy.
Punching at systems, not at people.
Four spuds, four flavors of being extremely online. You are at least two of them right now.

Started as a potato just trying to get one bar in the back bedroom. Now runs an entire emotional support network out of a hallway closet.
One bar of signal, five bars of hope
Has been blinking amber since 2009 and refuses to explain why. Believes every problem is solved by being unplugged for ten seconds.
Grumpy, ancient, weirdly correct
Small. Loud. Arrives in packs of forty-seven. Has never once brought news that could not have waited until Thursday.
Buzzing at 2% battery
The part of you that closes the laptop mid-sentence. Wrapped in a blanket, powered down, quietly winning at life.
Do not disturb, seriously
Holding the router above your head is a legitimate networking protocol.

You were away for eleven minutes. The pings formed a society.

It generated forty better versions of your idea. You wanted a nap.

Business on top, absolute nonsense below the desk line.

Day 30: WiFiPotato starts a band. The setlist is all buffering sounds.

It's 2am. The spinner is you. You are the spinner.

Unplugging the cable with the calm of someone who has made peace.

That screech was the sound of the whole house going quiet for you.
Printed on things you already own too many of, which has never stopped anybody.
RouterRoot gives the same advice four times. It works on the fourth. Nobody discusses it again.
In the oven
A tiny gremlin becomes convinced that a calendar invite is a personal emergency.
Storyboarding
Nine minutes of synth about a loading bar that never fills. Surprisingly emotional.
Demo recorded