It is not uncommon for those of us who put pen to paper (or keystroke to screen) to experience what is referred to commonly as “writer’s block”, or, as I like to call it – “Writer’s constipation”. The latter term applies quite well to me, as the majority of what I write comes under the heading of “SHIT”.

I myself have been known to procrastinate for hours over things that, in retrospect, have little or no bearing to a completed piece of work. But, in the hopes that the constant spew of thought imprinted on a page will eventually bear some resemblance to a piece of literature, one often finds themselves labouring on.

Finding inspiration for any literary endeavour is frustrating at the best of times and, in my experience, I have to say that writing about nothing is often a lot easier than writing about any topic of choice. So, while I write this under the guise of it being about “writer’s block”, what it is truly about is nothing. And by nothing I mean: shit, crap, nonsense, literary diahorrea – you get the idea, yes? No? Let’s put it this way. If I were to print this, then wipe my ass with the paper it is printed on, the page would look pretty much the same.

I’m not going anywhere with this, so if you’ve read this far, I applaud your dedication to reading. I myself would have given up after the first paragraph. And that’s the key really isn’t it? Finding a way to keep the reader engaged in whatever bullshit it is that you are trying to impart on them, without getting sidetracked, which unfortunately (as you can tell by my constant rambling ) is quite easy to do.

My advice – and this is about as much as you can take away from this garbage – is to think of a topic, dwell on it, then write about midgets in bikinis for a few hours. It’s not gonna help you at all, but it’s funny to me to think that there may be someone out there who’ll give it a go.

Sorry if this painful piece of crap has been as horrible for you to read, as it was for me to write. Rest assured, my keyboard will be destroyed after this, and I will break my right (or write, hehe) hand, so such crimes against literature may never be repeated.