It's Not Writer's Block

It's content block.

This is officially my longest drought. I can't think of anything to babble about. Pray for me.

The timing couldn't be more perfect. I went out and submitted this blog on all sorts of social networks and I've got nothing to write! They call this "choking" in sports.

Part of the reason is because I'm too distracted and lazy to sit and thoughtfully write in a lucid manner. Now, if you demand rantings and ravings, that I can deliver on a dime.

I'm also waging a private internal war about what style of writing I want to exude. Do I want to wear a shirt while a type or be naked? I feel like I'm five people in one and it's threatening to pull me apart.

Which reminds me of a story. I remember when I was a kid my brother and I had a Plastic Man doll. That bastard sure could stretch - though he had no penis. It could have made things interesting. Anyway, one day, bored out of our minds, we decided we were going to draw and quarter the doll. Man, I tell ya, it was pretty resistant but we persisted until he was broken and green goo oozed out of his pathetic body. My mother still doesn't think we're all that normal.