Block party
The Block. I have the Block, in my head. So it stands to reason that I am a Blockhead.
There are three or four creative endeavors that I really need to pursue right now, including the Cotillion, but I feel like a giant foot has dropped from the heavens and blocked all my forward progress. A giant, smelly foot. Insult to injury and all that. I just know there are hordes of new little ideas battering themselves against the large limburger limb, but so far, none of them has made its way to me. It's akin to being horribly constipated, except that at least when your caboose is backed up, there are pills and squirt bottles just waiting in the wings for their chance to liberate the ass masses. To the best of my knowledge, there aren't any brain enemas on the market. Maybe I need to have some kind of peyote-fueled revelation in the desert, except I don't have any peyote, I'm nowhere near a desert, and frankly, I'm not fond of any leisure activity that includes guaranteed vomiting.
It's not like I lack for material.
Shouldn't I be able to write something about what it feels like to suddenly end up living back in my home town, twenty-three years after getting the hell out of here? There's at least one hefty post, but much as I drive around and nudge dormant memories, it just doesn't feel like that topic has cooked long enough for me to serve it to you yet. And the fact that I'm single again, for the first time in twenty years? Lots to write about that, but I'm miles from ready to approach the subject.
Those are two big rocks in the stream, but surely there's water getting around the rocks, right? I find it a lot easier to deal with images than with words these days. I can - and do - play in Photoshop for hours without realizing how much time has passed. That's good, because a lot of what I need to do for my other projects is heavily visual. It's the projects that need storylines that are fucking with me right now.
This morning, however, I took a positive step toward worming my way past the Block. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner - it's so obvious I could put my own foot up my ass for taking this long. What a maroon! What a ta-ra-ra-goon-de-ay!
I ordered a wig.
Yes, that's right, FedEx is at this very moment rushing to my door with a fab-a-lous new wig. Fab-a-lous and cheap, which makes it even more beautiful in my big book of reckoning. I can't exactly tell you what it's for yet, but I think its presence will help sneak some ideas over where I can get at 'em. Hell, maybe I'll wear it while I write. It can be my thinking cap. The day I start walking the neighborhood wearing the wig, though, is the day I expect my family and friends to launch an intervention.
************************************
Everybody get an extra-tall drink and toast with me, to the birthday of Muskrat crooning icon Toni Tennille. My, how your bulldog has grown!
Also, I'm lame and I know I still owe interview questions to a few of you. I promise I haven't forgotten y'all.
There are three or four creative endeavors that I really need to pursue right now, including the Cotillion, but I feel like a giant foot has dropped from the heavens and blocked all my forward progress. A giant, smelly foot. Insult to injury and all that. I just know there are hordes of new little ideas battering themselves against the large limburger limb, but so far, none of them has made its way to me. It's akin to being horribly constipated, except that at least when your caboose is backed up, there are pills and squirt bottles just waiting in the wings for their chance to liberate the ass masses. To the best of my knowledge, there aren't any brain enemas on the market. Maybe I need to have some kind of peyote-fueled revelation in the desert, except I don't have any peyote, I'm nowhere near a desert, and frankly, I'm not fond of any leisure activity that includes guaranteed vomiting.
It's not like I lack for material.
Shouldn't I be able to write something about what it feels like to suddenly end up living back in my home town, twenty-three years after getting the hell out of here? There's at least one hefty post, but much as I drive around and nudge dormant memories, it just doesn't feel like that topic has cooked long enough for me to serve it to you yet. And the fact that I'm single again, for the first time in twenty years? Lots to write about that, but I'm miles from ready to approach the subject.
Those are two big rocks in the stream, but surely there's water getting around the rocks, right? I find it a lot easier to deal with images than with words these days. I can - and do - play in Photoshop for hours without realizing how much time has passed. That's good, because a lot of what I need to do for my other projects is heavily visual. It's the projects that need storylines that are fucking with me right now.
This morning, however, I took a positive step toward worming my way past the Block. I don't know why I didn't think of it sooner - it's so obvious I could put my own foot up my ass for taking this long. What a maroon! What a ta-ra-ra-goon-de-ay!
I ordered a wig.
Yes, that's right, FedEx is at this very moment rushing to my door with a fab-a-lous new wig. Fab-a-lous and cheap, which makes it even more beautiful in my big book of reckoning. I can't exactly tell you what it's for yet, but I think its presence will help sneak some ideas over where I can get at 'em. Hell, maybe I'll wear it while I write. It can be my thinking cap. The day I start walking the neighborhood wearing the wig, though, is the day I expect my family and friends to launch an intervention.
************************************
Everybody get an extra-tall drink and toast with me, to the birthday of Muskrat crooning icon Toni Tennille. My, how your bulldog has grown!
Also, I'm lame and I know I still owe interview questions to a few of you. I promise I haven't forgotten y'all.
Labels: excuses whining "tiny violins"
Katy Barzedor proclaimed this to be so at 9:08 PM
12 of you felt the overwhelming need to say somethin':
So, your wig will be your thinking cap??? Good luck on getting past your block. Anything I can do to help kickstart it for you?
And, all hail the Tenille!
2 things:
First, it could be worse. You could be living in Utah. Be thankful you are not.
Second, when I get down, I consult my spiritual muse Slim Whitman.
I don't think there is much else to be said here on the matter.
that's so weird, I was JUST singing "Love will keep us together" on my karoke machine the other day.
Yes, I have 521 songs on karoke, all a result of some drunken online shopping!
You said "tararagoondeay." Tararagoondeay!!!! Oh, I gotta tell Best Bud Ken. That's our very, very favorite insult.
Ahem. You'll be okay. Keep on with the Photoshop since that's where you're energy is flowing. I really like that "drain" image you just posted.
Can't wait to see the wig.
Well if i had known a wig would cure it, I would have sent you my Mrs. Claus one with the attached Christmas ball earrings a long time ago.
Hi Bucky. :)
After my previous Captain & Tennille faux pas, I ain't saying shit about either one of them.
But her teeth still scare me.
Wig? Surely you mean a MERKIN?
I can't tell you how relieved I am. Not to belittle the frustration of a creative block, but when I read the first sentence, I thought you were going to confess being the President of the New Kids on the Block fan club or something. This is much, MUCH easier to deal with. :-) Good luck!
I am so looking forward to the wig photos!!!!
I don't know how I got so far behind -- it's hard for me to remember to go elsewhere than you-know-where. Guess there've been a lot of balls in my court lately, and I've had a time getting them all down, too.
Simply the fact that you were able to squeeze this out is a good sign. And I see you have more ahead, yay!
Can't wait for the wig!
I don't know how I got so far behind -- it's hard for me to remember to go elsewhere than you-know-where. Guess there've been a lot of balls in my court lately, and I've had a time getting them all down, too.
Simply the fact that you were able to squeeze this out is a good sign. And I see you have more ahead, yay!
Can't wait for the wig!
I don't know how I got so far behind -- it's hard for me to remember to go elsewhere than you-know-where. Guess there've been a lot of balls in my court lately, and I've had a time getting them all down, too.
Simply the fact that you were able to squeeze this out is a good sign. And I see you have more ahead, yay!
Can't wait for the wig!
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