What is wrong with me?! I’ve been sitting here for days trying to get a light bulb to appear over my head regarding a good/funny/witty/totally-worthy-of-an-Emmy post idea but I CAN’T! It’s like the Wit is taking a Shit! Hello, Brain?! Are the neurons firing?! For the love of all things caffeinated! IDEAS, ALREADY!
SO. Let’s take the road less traveled, shall we? Can I get a little help from my Nekkids? Any ideas? Stuff you’d like my gloriously inquisitive opinion about? Anything? Maybe a short essay on the pros and cons of Colace vs. Enemas? Perhaps a full explanation on the diversity of poop in infants? Even a little documentation on the Rise and Fall of The Perks a.k.a. My Boobs Before and After Childbirth?
I’m digging here, People! Get a shovel or a backhoe and introduce yourself to this black hole otherwise known as my Creativity. Maybe all the coffee has turned to sludge and is now compensating for all the intellect it accidently let pass through the loopholes over the last several months. Or maybe I need to quit reading Twilight.
Read: Twilight = Post-Ideas-That-Solely-Revolve-Around-Glitter-And-The-Many-Ways-It-Can-Be-Adhered-To-The-Body-Of-A-God.
The worst part of all this? It’s Friday! The word “Friday” alone should be enough to induce tsunami-sized waves of passionate sarcasm and giddy laughter. As a blogger, I’m left feeling relentlessly inadequate. My bottom lip is sticking so far out that a bird’s gonna come along any minute now and wallop an egg-sized pile of poo on it.
… — … <——Morse code for SOS. Send ideas. Or money. Either is good.