Perfect example…right now…I’m in hell.
I hate writing. Always have and probably always will. If you haven’t already guessed it by now…if it’s not smothered in mayo, then I probably hate it… and that includes you…. Miracle Whip…you sick son of a bitch.
And nothing is worse than the moment you realize your “pre-writing rituals”…also referred to as heavily drinking… alone… after my parents went to sleep at 8:30 p.m…while finding more websites based solely on cats that look like Hitler.
… and when that fails…I just stare at my boobs.
But I’m staring at my boobs right now and…nada. Ideas are swirling…but word placement is just not adding up…and that is key, my friend, key.
It’s probably not helping that I’m distracted by this insurmountable urge to pee, but I know once I leave to confines of my bedroom to break the seal, and find myself sitting on the commode…only to stare at my boobs yet again…it will all come to me, but… yet again…I will have been too lazy to grab my pen and pad to write down this epically epic idea all down…because…yet again…I think I’m smart enough to remember everything I just said perfectly in my head…
…but come! In my defense it’s just not that hygienic to write shit down while I’ m perusing the bathroom, now is it? And plus, where the fuck am I supposed to lean my notebook? My exposed belly?
…don’t answer that…or question why my belly is exposed?
I’m in an emotional/sexual/mayo-less rut…and while you may gawk at the theory….I’m pretty sure the sudden and massive lack of mayo-intake is directly correlated to my writing abilities…and my sexual prowess.
…we all have our vices, okay? Yours may make songs turn into colors and mine may just happen to go perfectly well with sandwiches/wraps/sex.
And that is why America is the greatest state in the world my friends! THE GREATEST STATE IN THE WORLD.
I’m also hoping that if I finally write all this bullshit swirling around in my head down...I can finally make room for some ideas/stories/mayo-recipes that don’t quite suck…as much.
Hopefully this is just a flare-up…but can we ever be completely sure?
Too bad that don’t make a hemorrhoid cream for writer’s block…