I hate this.
I’ve hit a dry spell.
I’ve been staring at this blank, white block for almost an hour, and I really, really want to write something funny and light, but nothing’s happening.
People have always told me, “‘Dog, you need to publish these stories.” Folks have offered to edit the stories for me, and I’ve had a gentle offer or two from magazines, but this is why I don’t publish. Every so often, it becomes impossible for me to write humorous stuff.
I’d hate to sign a contract for X number of stories over a Y period, because I jolly well know that as soon as I do, my humour muse will go on a sabbatical, and I’ll wind up twiddling my thumbs and banging my head off the desk, with nothing to show.
I’m given to understand that that sort of thing tends to irritate publishers something fierce.
Now, snide and sarcastic I can do. Trouble is, I’m tired of being snide and sarcastic, and I really want to be light, cheerful and humourous.
Let’s see here…
Had a young gentleman put in an application at work last month. Looked sharp! Sounded sharp! Folks everywhere were all sorts of happy.
Unfortunately, the officer doing the background checks put the applicants name into Google and came up with his MySpace account.
Tip for the Wise: if you’re going to apply at a Law Enforcement agency, take the paean to the Mighty Marijuana Plant off your MySpace page, along with the albums dedicated to photos of you imbibing the Wonder Weed in various … interesting … locations, hmm-‘kay?
What else do we have?
PeTA came to our fair city some time back to protest the arrival of a circus. I had not realized that the protest was going to take the form of a topless young lady, in tiger body-paint, whiskers, fuzzy tail and ears, in a cage, holding a protesting sign up to cover her sweater bumpers.
I accompanied several other officers out to take a gander at this — scientific curiosity, you understand — and noticed that she had gathered quite an audience. Mostly male, believe it or not, and all probably hoping for a gift gust from the God of Winds.
Another lady was giving some kind of presentation, and was, I gather, quite enthralled at the number of people within earshot of her “Eat Veggies, Don’t Eat Your Friends” message.
Noting that the audience was 90% male, I probably should have pointed out that nobody was paying any attention to the presentation, but I was too busy praying for a gust of wind.
Tip for the PeTA Petters: Those of us of the male persuasion surely do appreciate the new way of protesting, but it probably isn’t having quite the impact you hope for.
We are in North Texas, not California: if you put a topless lady in front of Texas men, anything else you have to offer is going to get ignored. And writing on the sign is useless: The only thing we’re interested in is: 1) The things hidden behind the sign, and (please God) 2) is something going to happen to the sign.
Hell, she was topless. Painted like a cat. Wearing cat ears and a cat tail. Locked in a cage. You done hit three of the top ten heterosexual male kinky fantasies right there.
Not that I don’t appreciate the effort. Tell you what, if you give me a bit of notice next time, we could probably triple the number of attendees AND sell tickets.
But don’t confuse the number of men in the audience with the number of people who got your vegetarian message, okay?
See? I can do snide, snarky and sarcastic.
I’m off for tea. Maybe a nice cuppa and some biscuits will start the creative juices flowing.