Tuesday, November 29, 2011
The past few weeks have been a great big haze and I stopped writing the blog mainly as I couldn’t string two words together but also because when I could I thought I should perhaps put them towards some more ‘important’ thing, so consequently I put them nowhere. It’s funny, you sometimes think you’re storing them up, the words, the thoughts, for something great and then you realise that you’re in fact just allowing yourself to become more constipated than ever resulting in an even greater ever-expanding nothingness. And that hurts more. You fear shooting your load and so the load just builds up and you give yourself prostate trouble just trying to hold it in. It’s silly. I know this is the quintessential blog writer’s issue and it’s boring to say it again, but you do wonder – especially when you do have a great load just throbbing there, swelling, and this miniscule orifice each day through which to squirt it – where to aim your rod? Oh sweet sweet crack of a moment right now at 19:17 on a Tuesday night – saying nothing but feeling slightly better for it. Shooting a little load – ah… A weak little spurt. Something.