I have noticed that I write some of my best "stuff" while commenting on someone else's blog. The other best "stuff" comes in small bits and pieces that pop into my mind from time to time but which I can never flesh out into complete blog articles.
Here are some examples:
This is always my problem, I write something, think it's wonderful, post it pridefully, and then browse about the blogs finding talent so far above me that I get depressed and contemplate mass murder and suicide. I never actually carry that last bit out because, essentially, I am lazier than I am fanatical.
I lay quietly in my bed, trying to sleep, Faye snoring softly beside me (or it could be someone with a chainsaw in the bathroom... except that a chainsaw would be more rhythmic).
I envy the British style of wit. I don't know why, it just seems so clever. That and the accent seems to permeate it even in the written form. That accent, by the way, apparently appeals to Americans in such a positive way that it is used in commercials to sell all manner of things.
Americans are suckers for foreign accents. A talking Gecko using some odd combination of Australian and British has made a certain insurance company quite happy and well known. There's the Outback commercials, of course. And all sorts of lesser ones from possibly Russian ("breathe, my friend, breathe!") to Indian (Asian, not American). Sometimes the admen use Brooklynese (which is practically foreign anyway) or New Englander. I would add in Canadian but I am not sure if that is foreign or domestic.
I have been awful clumsy lately. Yesterday I stubbed my toe on a protruding corner when attempting to exit the bathroom. This culminated into a stumbling sort of lunge through the doorway, scraping my right arm across the doorjamb and finally tumbling onto the bed in severe pain. Oddly, nothing was broken or even sprained.
This morning, as I closed the door to the screen porch behind me managing to scrape my left heel in the process. I haven't been this clumsy since shortly after entering puberty.
I will likely be hopelessly compelled to disjointedly tell the story of The Cough over the next couple of weeks. Just a warning.
A Night Unremembered
7 years ago