Friday, April 07, 2006

If It Ain't Broken, Don't Blog It

I don't know if it was my ISP or Blogger, but some outfit was having some problems. First, my site counter would not load. Easy enough, I clicked over to the counter site and loaded a new one. Then after pasting it to the html edit page, Blogger would not republish. So I thought I would click on over to my Blogroll and catch up on some reading in the cyber library. No luck! The links wouldn't load. This went on for about an hour and a half before order was restored.

Then reality hit me like a ton of bricks. I didn't have a clue what to post tonight. I had the dreaded writer's block, or in this case Blogger's block. After staring at the screen for a few minutes, I remembered some advice I was given once. The cure for writer's block is to start writing about a passionate subject. Passionate subjects can be a broad generalization. I can be passionate about a lot of things. Passion can evoke thoughts of eating, watching sports, listening to music, etc. Oh yeah, sex too!

What passions do other people have that could inspire them to write if they were so inclined? Would their passions be of any interest to a visiting Blog reader?

Let's see, a police officer could write about ... the history of donuts? Would a fireman come up with an essay on the best marsh mallows? Obviously an auto mechanic could compose an interesting account about rear ends. A worker for a town's DPW could discuss the most comfortable models of trucks in which they've slept. A photographer would probably give a dissertation on the negatives of that field.

What about the Blogger? Can you say ramble? What is a blog but paragraphs, sentences and words? I can have some fun with words, a la Norm Crosby!

Someone once said I had an intersecting but mixed up way of using words. They said I should talk to someone for advice. "I don't need constellation," I was quick to reply. I was indigent at such a congestion. My speaking and writing is my lavoratory where I practice conception. I like to think that I am quite clear in my conservations with people. I always avoid dangling popsicles and I never end any sentence with a proposition.
....I abdicate copulation control. There are just too many people in the world today. It pains me, like a confusion to the head, to see humans copulating. It compounds me. I say conflagrations to those who precipitate in adaptions. There are too many organs in need of replacement. On this tropic of discussion, I try not to flatter myself because self flatulence stinks.
....Before the writer's blockade ruins my contraception, and I forget my erection of subject maternal, I think I had better end this compost.



Karen said...

was having trubble yesterday with the internets & blogger (booger) also.

when i get a *brain fart* on what to write, i have a few cartoons tucked away for emergencies... {yawn} hope i'm not boring you...

Kelly said...

What an interesting way you have with words! I read your profile and not only do we have interests in common~~~ I also understood everything you just said! Now, how scary is that?

aka_monty said...

But Mikey, I like it when you end sentences with a proposition.

You know I always say yes.

(my word verification is oopuz. That just sounds ick.) ;)

Hale McKay said...

Ah, that's good Kelly. Now you can explain it to me.

Peter said...

Hi Mike, I think you can safely blame blogger for your recent troubles, (I suspect for the population explosion in India, the high cost of gas, and Dubya's lack of comprehension, as well.)
You certainly practiced conception in your lavatory in todays post, but as usual it was nefariously sunny.

Sar said...

Hope your blogger woes clear up as quickly as your writer's block did. :)

Thanks again for the birthday wishes! Much appreciated.

Liz said...

LOL Very clever. I have the opposite of blogger block, always way to much to say.

TMelendez said...

I thought you were exhibit A on what winter weather in the Northeast causes... or maybe years spent in West Virginia.. but I am at a lost.. and speaking of LOST.. maybe someone dropped you on this earth.. have you had time to phone home?