Down to go

One of the reasons I don't post that often anymore, since so many of you (one person-it was me, in a little note I wrote to myself with my left hand so I couldn't recognize the shaky, hesitant script) have been wondering, is that I fell into the trap of feeling like I should only post if I have something lengthy and relatively cohesive to say.

You know, like an actual story of general interest or something.

But I just have fragments, and a bunch of dead-ends.

Sometimes though, it pays to post something anyways, just to keep in the habit and stave off frozen blogging shoulder.

So here, have some fragments and do with them what thou willis.

Sure this is just a blog on the Internet, but it's also my only creative outlet, and it bothers me a great deal when I hit wall after wall of bad, unfunny ideas.

It feels like a very tiny, but a very definite, failure.

My wife walked in at that moment, and quickly made me stop squishing my brain.

Only by then, it was no longer a brain I was attacking, but myself. I was trying to give me a frustrated, angry shake. You know, like in movies, when they calm people down by grabbing their shoulders and really giving them a rough time.

I try to do it to myself, but it's like I can't get the leverage right. I can't get any strength going, and I just ineffectually poke the jello of my shoulders with my awkwardly angled hands while nodding my head really fast.

"Oh that's weird looking, don't do that," my wife said. She knows just the right thing to say to talk me back from the precipice.

She made me a warm bottle and tried to help me come to terms with just how much of my life has been spent throttled by utter failure.

"....so you brought the little urinating figurine home, and now you can't remember what struck you as so interesting about it?"

"Mm-hmm," I said, blinking slowly and taking a long chug from my bottle with a little sigh. The milk was real good. Kind of sweet. Not colostrum sweet, mind you, but not that tepid,opaque 2% they sell at the big box stores neither.

"Show me what you've got so far," she commanded.

"All right."

Back when I was young and full of piss vinegar, I used to review wonderful things I would find around town on this blog.

 The enthusiasm on that kid's face is kind of off-putting.

 "4. See what happen when you take off his short."

 Well, I guess I'll pull this happy fellow's pants down.

You know, the ones like: