Posted 11:02 AM by Alfred

fuckety fuckstick. I've got this clear and open window for maximum bloggage and i really don't have jack shit to say. I don't know if I'd call it writer's block, because, well, I don't really get that. I can always babble. the problem is I've got writers flood, and it's not all good. Is it any better than blockage when you can write but it all just comes out crap? Substance levels approaching negative quadrants captain stubing, prepare to man the life boats. I was gonna do a little bitch session but I'm just not in the mood anymore. I was gonna write about the average air speed of an unladen swallow, but math makes my head hurt. I had thought about pontificating on an ode to a romulan orb, but that's played out.

Well at least my Cal Bears are out there kicking ass. Unbeaten in the pac-10? me likey. but you are not a jedi yet, young brehs. Tally ho, and bring me the head of a huskie and a cougar. Then you will be that much closer to your goal of the unseen schwann.

There's a lot of people in bloggerville that apparently, like, plan out shit to write. That's very admirable. That just does not happen here. The only exception might be my Dark storyline, which apparently 3 people give a rat's left cheek about. The amount of feedback I've gotten on it is quite. yeah, quite. Quite what, I don't know the fuck, but it's definitely quite. Yeah, dammitt, that's it. Quite. Ever heard anyone describe anything as quite? Well now you have Dr. Calibrosis, so get out there on your Honda scooter and spread the word. Pile.

What do you do when you have a blog that is not growing at the exponential rate that you have so inclined? The premise has been that quality verbosity will lure in the appropriate number of serenaders, but that proximity has not been to the parameters that were incrementally invested. Do you go out with your bell and stand in front of blog entry whatever the fuck they're called zonars wearing a santa hat and the stink of last night's bourbon, five a clock shadow lurking and beg for traffic? Do you start talking massive amounts of yang about every other kid on the block, hoping that their wrath and associated lightning bolts will bring about expanded attention? Do you fuck around with google and put in popular words like Wang Zhizhi hoping that the associated word vibe will have b-boys & girls banging down your door for the next dosage?

or maybe you just mope and scrape around in your own salt-water tears, wondering what could have been if you'd only sold out to the man that one time. If you'd only tasted that jewel of gravy just that single solitary instant, you could have lived the rest of your life making up for that moment that had brought you from the depths into the light. the light of what would definitely be up for discussion and possible debate, but the rays of popularity would have definite higher chances of shinage.

Does it make you feel better, damn spot, to feel like some kind of unsoiled warrior, out there on the brigades for truth and justice? who the fuck do you think you're kidding? You're playing with legos with delusions of building the trump tower. buck up and keep pumping the bile of your subconscous out or get the fuck off this boat. we're sick of your whining. oh yeah? yeah. ok. (shuffles off sniffling).

And this, ladies, is why you don't let your sons grow up to be cowboys.

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