Random Stupid Thoughts
So life is whipping my ass lately, and writer's block is a raging problem here in naked page land, where the pages really are, literally, naked. I have tried in vain to convince my editor that the blank page is a story in itself, a minimalist commentary on the utter futility of the story as an artform, but she's not buying it. Really just not buying it.
I saw a report over the weekend that Tommy Hilfiger bitch-slapped Axl Rose. This is the kind of news headline that makes me think for a moment that I need to stop drinking whatever it is I've been drinking, but no, it really happened. On an only loosely related note, I named the family dog after Axl Rose when I was a teenager. It was going to be either Axl, or Barry White, and I just couldn't do that to Barry.
So. Um. One way to know you are fucked as a writer is when you can't even think of random stupid thoughts to write on your blog. Somebody help me out here. Please post a random stupid thought or two of your own. Please. I'm on my knees--no, not doing THAT--begging you.