Writer's Block

I just saw the phrase "writers block" and I burst out laughing. I'll eventually explain if you didn't get it yet.

Driving down the road the other day I saw a sign that said "Blind cleaning...." again, I burst out laughing and thought of starting a business "Blind Cleaning: for those days you miss having teenagers to clean your house for you." I'm thinking the KKK might take exception to this and come a burnin' sacred crosses on my front lawn. That would be bad for business. Not to mention the city would probably fine me for not having the proper burn permits. We have a fire pit in our backyard (update: we no longer have a fire pit; the weeds had overtaken it and the only way to save it was to destroy it. We now have a bald spot on our lawn). I always imagine that when I'm ruler of the universe I will make people come and take their turn (pun intended) on a giant spit I have over the tiny fire pit in our backyard. When you're ruler of the universe you can make people do things even if you don't really have the proper equipment. That's the benefit of being ruler of the universe, that and you get to say "I have the power!" and mean it, anytime you want. If you've had to work with an editor, especially at a newspaper, you'd want to do this too. Pretty soon businesses will figure out how to outsource baby making. Who wants to live in a libertarian society now? Since we live in a 'democracy' it won't matter anyway, you'll still end up alone, but rich. I guess the up side to being single and rich is that when you have stupid ideas there's no one to stop you from doing them.

"You know, self, we should go out and have our teeth capped in gold."
"I dunno, that doesn't sound like a good idea."
"Why not?! We've got enough money to do it, plus if anything goes wrong, I can just but new teeth."
"Oh yeah, I forgot how much money we have. After we do this, let's go buy Facebook stock!!"

You ever get the urge to get up out of that thing and dance till you feel better? There really aren't good musicians any more, are there? I mean, I understand that Lady Gaga is just like totally expressing herself and being like totally liberal pushing for women's rights and stuff like that; it just feels like there's a man behind the scenes pushing all the buttons and pulling all the levers. Call me a cynic. Come on Aerosmith, relapse already!!!

I can tale you one thing, writers block has nothing to do with a cool hip place that writers like to hang out when they're not writing, or tired of slamming their fingers in the door for not having any good ideas to write about:

"Hey, Bill"
"Hey, Axel"
"WHOA! What Happened To Your Fingers??!" (you have to yell the first letter of each word)
"Oh that, it's nothing, I, uhm, I, uh, fell down the stairs and just as I did a breeze came through the house and slammed the door shut on them."
"I guess that's one of the dangers you have to live with in those old houses."
"That and the old lady we can't seem to get out of the upstairs closet."
"I think I'd be too scared with her around."
"It's not to bad, she makes us breakfast and sometimes dinner. The only bad thing is she keeps using all the hot water and then laughs manically at me as I shower in freezing cold water because I have to be at work."
"WHOA!! You have a job???!!!"
"Yeah, I know, I'm a total sellout."
"Pssshhhh. Poser."

That or you have a debate with yourself about whether you should right about the Unitary group or the Orthogonal group (no, they're not political, and they're not really a religious group either, though their followers are somewhat fanatical-if you get this joke, you have my most heartfelt and sincere apology). What's your white whale? I never have understood why that one's a classic. There's a Spanish author, I forget his name write now, but he's pretty awesome. He writes what I think are classics. There's one story where there's a family with a handicapped child; they live on a farm and milk the cow, get eggs from the chickens, etc. etc. etc.. One day the parents need to run into town so they leave him and his sister at home. When they come home he's out in the front yard looking pleased as can be. They go inside to find that his sister is hanging from the same place they hang chickens to drain the blood before eating them. A true family classic. I would like to see Disney take a crack at that one, see if they can't lovey dovey that story up. They seem to have done a pretty good job with the other fairy tails they've turned into money cows. Speaking of cows, they are not easy to tip over.

Yesterday I was accused of being a lawyer for Disney. The funny part was Pam was sitting next to me (she's in law school). I was then made cabin boy of some ship I don't recall the name of but probably could come up with it if my life depended on it, which it clearly does not at this point (put down the taser-the spell checker doesn't think taser is a word, ha! Tase the programmer and then tell him nothing really happened because there's no such thing as a taser). To overcome writers block I find a good sturdy rope and an experienced climbing companion, plus a good pair of shoes are the best. A good pair of shoes is highly underrated. I hate shoes. The problem is it gets cold, and I keep moving further north, and I am very much a cold blooded human being (keep the jokes to yourself). It was about 90 degrees last night (with Humidity, in case anyone from Arizona is reading) and I kind of liked it. It made it hard to sleep and anytime either Pam or eye bumped into each other we immediately recoiled as if we'd just touched a burning hot stove, which is what we felt like to each other. I keep telling my baby she's super hot, which she is. Branding your loved one, though, is no way to keep them from running away. Locking them in a cage first and then branding them, on the other hand, is much more effective. Thank you Stockholm for giving us your syndrome. I have a giant PJJ on my left hip, letting airport security everywhere know that if they mess with me they'll have the wrath of the PJJ ranch to mess with, yo! Ain't nobody messin' with my cattle gonna get away with it!!! (angry look with arms crossed, baggy pants and a baseball cap on sideways-yes, I'm not wearing a shirt or socks, oh the humanity) Shoes are bad. Sandals (or thongs as we used to call them) are good.

I swallowed a gold fish once. He swam in my stomach for the next year, had babies and was living very happily inside me when my wife found out and punched me in the stomach repeatedly until they stopped screaming. Did you know dead fish float? I didn't either. We have a bird. He's noisy. He thinks he sings pretty like all the birds out side, which sing like "La la lalalalala la la la la...(very pretty melody)," his comes out about like "SQUAWK!!!! SQUAWK!! SQUA SQUA SQUA SQUAWK!!!!" Sometimes I think that's probably how I sound when I sing, but I think I sound pretty so I'll keep doing it, with the windows down, driving past small children that run in terror as I pass them by. Yes, I'm more scary than the clown driving the ice cream truck very very slowly through your neighborhood, smiling with a wide grin showing all his teeth and waving as he keeps passing your house ever few minutes.

Writers block, plagiarism is the only real cure anyone has ever been able to tell me about that truly works. You think you can be blog-banned for plagiarizing? That would be pretty cool if you could. If you find anything in my blog that is plagiarized, please keep it to yourself. I try to give credit for ideas that I steal, but no one's prefect, and this is just for fun (I think...). I never did explain the joke about writer's block that I was laughing at the beginning (I'm still chuckling). The best part is, credit cards have a cut off point. If you still don't get it, I'm not explaining the punch line (though I all but did with that last comment, almost killing what I was laughing at). Jokes are never funny when you have to explain the punch line. Why is it called the punch line anyway? Do people get in line and let you punch them when you get to that part so they'll at least think somethings funny while a fist slams its way into their inner organs? I wouldn't be laughing. I do like zombies though.

Until next time, don't die and don't kill anyone. Also, don't eat anyone, especially if they're still alive.