Update on my writers block.
So for a few days now I have had a horrible imagination cramp in my brain muscle. I have tried all sorts of combinations of alcheehol and caffeinated beverages, I even sacrificed a goat, only because I was hungry and a goat was to be found. I will say that I am sorry to the family of the goat faced child down the street for the untimely death of their offspring but if you are going to have children, you, as a parent, should not make such delicious kids. I have been wracking my brain to think about things to write about but nothing seems funny right now. Sure there is tons of news I could delve into and there is that big war going on that is still over shadowed by our group innitiative to concentrate on celebrities. I could say some things about the Oscars, like old Marty finally winning, after years of being overlooked by the industry, mabye the Departed wasn't his best work ever but he made the Godfather and he deverves something for the fact that he made one of the greatest movies of all time, does he not? How about the fact that he put Al Pachino and Robert Deniro on the map, that should account for something shouldn't it? Okay I will rant about it for a bit. It seems to me that the good movies always get over looked because they are a bit violent or what have you. Come on, Gangs of New York... Fantastic movie, should have won best picture years back but as usual some awful movie about an ugly woman who does something in history wins, since when does a hot woman making herself look a bit ugly denote good film making? Okay, okay Godfather part 2 sucked but really everything else is pretty good. The dolts on the Oscar commitee got worried about how their ratings have been dropping by leaps each year, so they haul in the genious behind American Idol to liven things up. Oh good, I can't get enough of these boneheads, reality television being the worst thing to happen to our country since we gave doctors the right to vote. Were they planning on waiting till Scorsese was dead to give him one of those posthumous awards that they give people that should have won a thousand times over? Taxi driver, do I really have to say that? I will say it again, Taxi Driver! I will also say this Good Fellas, sure Casino wasn't great but aaarrgggg Good Fellas was a gift from the movie gods, the movie made tiny little smatchets from New York feared in modern society. Even his bad movies were good, The Color of Money, Cape Fear, Bringing out the Dead, all good even for the fact that they were not great. I am done for now, tomorrow I think I will go after popular music, yes that sounds like fun good night.
3 comments:
Sorry to read of your writers block, ironic too. I once had a case of writers block so bad that I had to become an artist. I got the artistic integrity so bad that I had to become a collector of my own work. I got the collection bug so bad that I was eventually collecting paint chips and teeth that I found lying around. I got so familiar with paint and teeth that I started to appraise painted teeth for a living. Well, a living like that is more like a slow death.
It didn't take long before I realized that this life/death I was living was the stuff that people wanted to read. I was renewed and my writers block was gone. So now I just write about me. One of my recent works goes like this:
I'm doing/going well today, and stars are fireballs. I happy day for me and post-traumatic teeth, I fund/found many and scrubbed them up finely! A nice and happy time I had whilst showing I collection to tribal elders. They are happy for grandpa day coming up soon. Grandpa Day is I best day ever! Grandpa heavy like duck/eagle and walk like cloud. Rainbows follow him whereverywhere as he glances off skyscrapers in freefall.
See how easy that was! You just write about your life and it almost writes itself. I forgot to write that on your holidays blog, but Grandpa Day ROCKS!!!
Odd that alcohol didn't clear up that writers block...
Did you try really good scotch perhaps from the rolling hills of Speyside region? I recommend a fine bottle of Glenfiddich or a Macallan.
And don't forget the cigar.
Two words. Southern. Comfort
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