I'm currently stumped by quite a riddle... "What does one write about when he has nothing to say?"
Granted, anyone who is even a casual reader of The Writings is probably convinced that I never really have anything to say (rambling posts about Google searches for his own name seem to support this argument), but this time I'm really stumped.
Such inability to think of anything even remotely worthwhile to put in print is often referred to as "writer's block." Unfortunately, it seems my mind is having such a difficult time conjuring any sort of prose that I'm having a hard time even finishing this... uhh... you know... hmmm... sentence.
This is certainly not the first time that I have found it difficult to come up with an idea for a Writing, but such afflictions are normally assuaged by a simply getting caught in the webbing of the World Wide Net. Alas, it has provided no luck this time, as I can't even piece together commonly known terms. (it's Earthly Wide Web, right?)
Sure, I could write about some pirates seizing an oil tanker, and joke that Captain Hook's cousin, Captain Hinge, must have been getting tired of his squeaky elbow. I even could have added an arbitrary pirate-speak joke (sorry, I meant ARRRRRbitrary), but the whole pirate thing seems to be a bit overplayed lately. (I blame the Goonies.)
If searching online doesn't do the trick, a journey through my cable lineup always seems to provide inspiration. Alas, one can only write that The Hills provides as much entertainment as cleaning one's ears with a powerdrill so many times before the words begin to lose their meaning. (Nevertheless, it's still a true statement.)
Right now, you may be saying to yourself, "Mr./Mrs./Ms. Self*, wait a second, doesn't this guy** like sports? Why doesn't he just throw some thing together about that?"
*If you're a self-respecting individual.
**If you aren't very good with names.
Sports are always there, and seem to be a subject I can always fall back on... yet, I feel there's really nothing new I can add to the conversation at this point. My favorite college football team has a lame duck coach and the search to replace him seems to be surrounded with more mystery than the motivation behind the creation of the movie White Chicks.
My favorite college basketball team has looked stupendous for two of the four halves it has played so far in the regular season, but the other two halves have been filled with an attitude best summed up by one (now official) word - meh. Thus, it's too early for me to create any sort of team assessment. (Although, I must reiterate, they have looked marvelous for two halves.)
My favorite NFL team has precisely one more win this season than the Kenosha Maroons - a team that has been defunct for 84 years. Sure, they've had some entertaining losses, and they are finally getting play from the quarterback spot that doesn't seem directionally challenged ("Which way are we supposed to go again?"), but it seems a little early to begin debating who they might take with their first round draft pick. (Cue gasping in horror from every "NFL Draft expert" who has been babbling about the the potential No. 1 picks in 2009 for three years.)
In the world of baseball, might favorite team is in the midst of an offseason where they have several holes to fill. In a perfect world, they would be able to fill all those holes this offseason. Alas, in a perfect world, I would have seen the aforementioned team in the postseason sometime in the last 23 years.
In a perfect world, my laptop would not require an extra fan to keep from losing all functionality out like a frightened goat.
In a perfect world, some dude that calls himself "Mystery" wouldn't have a TV show where he teaches guys that have apparently never talked to members of the opposite sex before sleazy ways to become a "pickup artist." I have to think that if I were to even consider putting any of his "methods" in practice, I'd begin punching myself in the nose repeatedly before I ever got a word out.
... Actually, that show may have Writing potential...
Nevertheless, writer's block can rear it's ugly head*** at any time. Never be afraid to pass along... uhh... you know, those things... the ones that come from your mind... ideas.
***The author of this Writing realizes it is unfair to deem the head of writer's block as ugly when writer's block is not actually tangible, and therefore possesses no head. It is with sincere apology that he writes this note, and he hopes things don't get awkward between he and writer's block.
Granted, anyone who is even a casual reader of The Writings is probably convinced that I never really have anything to say (rambling posts about Google searches for his own name seem to support this argument), but this time I'm really stumped.
Such inability to think of anything even remotely worthwhile to put in print is often referred to as "writer's block." Unfortunately, it seems my mind is having such a difficult time conjuring any sort of prose that I'm having a hard time even finishing this... uhh... you know... hmmm... sentence.
This is certainly not the first time that I have found it difficult to come up with an idea for a Writing, but such afflictions are normally assuaged by a simply getting caught in the webbing of the World Wide Net. Alas, it has provided no luck this time, as I can't even piece together commonly known terms. (it's Earthly Wide Web, right?)
Sure, I could write about some pirates seizing an oil tanker, and joke that Captain Hook's cousin, Captain Hinge, must have been getting tired of his squeaky elbow. I even could have added an arbitrary pirate-speak joke (sorry, I meant ARRRRRbitrary), but the whole pirate thing seems to be a bit overplayed lately. (I blame the Goonies.)
If searching online doesn't do the trick, a journey through my cable lineup always seems to provide inspiration. Alas, one can only write that The Hills provides as much entertainment as cleaning one's ears with a powerdrill so many times before the words begin to lose their meaning. (Nevertheless, it's still a true statement.)
Right now, you may be saying to yourself, "Mr./Mrs./Ms. Self*, wait a second, doesn't this guy** like sports? Why doesn't he just throw some thing together about that?"
*If you're a self-respecting individual.
**If you aren't very good with names.
Sports are always there, and seem to be a subject I can always fall back on... yet, I feel there's really nothing new I can add to the conversation at this point. My favorite college football team has a lame duck coach and the search to replace him seems to be surrounded with more mystery than the motivation behind the creation of the movie White Chicks.
My favorite college basketball team has looked stupendous for two of the four halves it has played so far in the regular season, but the other two halves have been filled with an attitude best summed up by one (now official) word - meh. Thus, it's too early for me to create any sort of team assessment. (Although, I must reiterate, they have looked marvelous for two halves.)
My favorite NFL team has precisely one more win this season than the Kenosha Maroons - a team that has been defunct for 84 years. Sure, they've had some entertaining losses, and they are finally getting play from the quarterback spot that doesn't seem directionally challenged ("Which way are we supposed to go again?"), but it seems a little early to begin debating who they might take with their first round draft pick. (Cue gasping in horror from every "NFL Draft expert" who has been babbling about the the potential No. 1 picks in 2009 for three years.)
In the world of baseball, might favorite team is in the midst of an offseason where they have several holes to fill. In a perfect world, they would be able to fill all those holes this offseason. Alas, in a perfect world, I would have seen the aforementioned team in the postseason sometime in the last 23 years.
In a perfect world, my laptop would not require an extra fan to keep from losing all functionality out like a frightened goat.
In a perfect world, some dude that calls himself "Mystery" wouldn't have a TV show where he teaches guys that have apparently never talked to members of the opposite sex before sleazy ways to become a "pickup artist." I have to think that if I were to even consider putting any of his "methods" in practice, I'd begin punching myself in the nose repeatedly before I ever got a word out.
... Actually, that show may have Writing potential...
Nevertheless, writer's block can rear it's ugly head*** at any time. Never be afraid to pass along... uhh... you know, those things... the ones that come from your mind... ideas.
***The author of this Writing realizes it is unfair to deem the head of writer's block as ugly when writer's block is not actually tangible, and therefore possesses no head. It is with sincere apology that he writes this note, and he hopes things don't get awkward between he and writer's block.
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