I’m such a shit writer, I didn’t even write the post title. M. came up with it when I was telling how much of a fraudulent failure-type person I am.
I set aside time to write. I planned to write. I had my notebook, my computer and time. Twice today.
I did fuck all. Why? Because obviously I don’t have enough heart, soul and gray matter. Yup, just drool and lack of discipline.
No one to blame but my pathetic self. And, the programmers who built all sorts of stupid boring solitaire games. I can click and type and produce nothing.
hmmm coming to the edinburg fringe festival eh lass
that will insipe you no end
deep fried mars bars
and battered deep fried pizza always hits the spot
beer at $6 a pint
hotels at $200 a night if you can find one
i always camp
the rain
more rain
if u do come mind i want to know i want to heckle and get a signed postcard so i can sell it for millions when your rich n famouse
as for me im off to france on my hols so dont go near mainland europe during daylight hours i could pop up anywhere just look for the blue scooby being driven by an errattic
as for the writing just sit down with a pencil and paper
sod the technology and jot ideas
then type em up infull later
it didnt work for me either but then im as thick as a brick anyway
love n hugs
veda
a traveling salesman calls at a house and the door is answered by a 12 yo boy wearing bra thong stockings holding a glass of scotch and a very big joint
the sales man say hello is your mother in ?
what the fuck do you think ?says the boy
well it made i laugh
No camping for me. I’ll sleep on a floor in the indoors. Flats arranged and I’ll just mooch floor space.
Looks like I’ll be buying a plane ticket in the next couple of days. Then, I’ll have to write about it ad nauseum, as is my style.