I don’t think I’ve ever had a day more devoid of creative thought than I did on this Thursday the first of September, in the year of our lord 2005. So I’ll do what I’ve set out never to do – and write about not being able to think of anything good to write about. I’ve thought plenty today about my job, my coworkers, my clients, my new roomate – but not once about this website or it’s beloved readership. Not once about dead hookers or the many associated jokes. And for that, I apologize. But I’m glad to see I still have some sense of priority in my life. And a job.
A gift has been bestowed upon me, methinks. And that gift is the ability to keep ‘er going, copy-wise. I can write about anything and make it somewhat funny and interesting. But today I feel like I’m on some sort of brainwave blocking medication. I got a ton done at work – one of the most productive days in a while. But I feel like I’ve been lobotomized. Instead of wasting time running around like a smacked arse, I got a little work done today. So please forgive me – this doesn’t happen often.
Pye, I just got off the phone with you, and I can tell you were off. Buck up little camper, we can entertain ourselves with pornographic playing cards until you find your way home.
somewhat…
hey detroit, how’s Moncton treatin you? I work for Midland Transport out of Toronto and I here Moncton is the jewel of the east.
Now you know what it’s like to be Whitely.
No shit, eh? Add monsterbehave.com to the enormous pile of dead blogs. Over 70% of people who start blogs maintain them for 3 months or less.
Hey – leave my blog alone – summers gone and it will kick back up come Sunday night.
I already have material – but they won’t let me put it on at work. So I have to wait til I get home – which I am never at.
Dave – that is because 70% of actually venture out of our pain cave.