Here I am four fingers deep in rum and I still can't come up with a thing to write. My husband's no help at all.
"Babe, what should I blog about this week?!" I whine helplessly at him.
"I don't know, what's on your mind?"
I want to say big things; huge topics and great fields of inquiry like politics, global warming, or the terrifying threat of Fukushima...but no. What's on my mind is that my clothes dryer is on its last legs and we don't have money to fix it. I also keep thinking that this one hemorrhoid feels like someones rammed a piece of glass up my ass. And I should probably stop drinking while I write - it could lead to an alcohol problem (or embarrassing revelations about hemorrhoids).
|I love that dog...but she is so dumb. Today I gave the kids flashlights to play with because I'm awesome and lazy. They got her to run full bore, face first, into the wall...repeatedly! She was chasing the light.... At least she's cute.|
None of these topics would interest readers for very long. I would hope anyway. I guess I could do a post on alcoholism...but really. I'm not an alcoholic, yet.
Then a revelation! I will write about not writing. I'm a genius.
Well...not writing sucks. I feel I have this greatness contained within my brain. This one tiny, little talent that enables me to stand above the crowd, thumping my chest, and proclaiming myself *gasp* a Writer. But then it comes...that ancient demon, that wicked monster known as Writer's Block. It wiggles and worms its way into my psyche, whispering doubts and tongue lashing all topics.
"Oh please, that's so over done" he groans (I don't know why he's a man, he just is).
"Really, you're going to reveal THAT and expect followers...?"
"A post about your dumb dog...no" he jeers.
"Another post about your kids...Jesus...get a life".
And round and round the "Wheel of 'FUCK'!" turns and I can't, for the life of me, figure out a topic this demon would like. Nope, nothing; I got nothing.
And then while I'm passing out in front of "Weird or What?" - and is Shatner really in his 80's? - It comes to me. I will write again. I will defeat this grotesque and demoralizing voice. My solution is to pen a blog about him, about this creature that lurks and skulks inside my brain waiting for the chance to laugh at my misfortune.
He's hypercritical and all around a giant dick.
Did you hear me "Writer's Block" - if indeed that is your real name? I'm defeating your sorry ass by writing about your sorry ass.
Irony sucks, doesn't it?
BAM. Blog post. Done.