This is a test.
A friend dropped
a book on my desk to help me with my self-imposed writer’s block. Funny thing
about it is that the book is titled “Writer’s Block” and literally looks like a
block. It’s composed of different writing exercises to help writers get a move
on in their creative pursuit.
Here are some of
my handpicked exercises and the pieces I had written to “answer” them.
“Write about the
worst driving you’ve ever done.”
I’m a terrible
person behind the wheel. My worst driving experience was during one of my
father’s birthdays. We started this particular celebration by drinking at
around 9 a.m. I excused myself from work, told my boss that I got sick the
night before from trying to get a
gift for my old man. What a piece of shit.
As always when
we drink, we drank hard. It was a binge fest. After a couple 3 bottles of
liquor, we cleaned up and drove to another spot to meet different people to
“celebrate” a bit more. I was the one driving. I passed out on the table after
a few beers and only remembered waking up and paying for the tab. I was piss
drunk but I insisted that I should be the one to drive. After all, my father
was far better at this game than me.
So to finish
off, the worst driving I’ve ever done was something I can’t entirely remember.
And the worst thing about it is I lived to write about it. What dumb luck.
“Outcast”
Poetry night,
every night. Bottles of beer stood proudly on the table. They are inviting in
their emptiness. Another night of solitude for Jake. Two women made their way
to their spot. He didn’t even blink. They shot down that plane even before it
took off. They said they were Jersey boys – two young salesmen peddling their
wares on the streets. They didn’t know their product was not currency in this
town. The management didn’t allow strangers to hold the mic.
“Valentine’s
Day”
These yuppies
are hooked. It wasn’t E. Meth was too country for this crowd and besides, who
else in their honest mind would want their teeth to fall out? Also, too much
stuff is needed to smoke that shit. The bulb looks too messy. Foil is brittle
and obvious. Don’t get me started on the smell and the taste. That shit is just
nasty. But this, this is the drug of tomorrow. It’s something that you can
actually enjoy putting in your mouth. Sweet with a bit of tang. Wait for it.
Wait for it. There. It’s a “lay me down” shit is what it is. A sting on the end
will pull you back. But remember, look for the brand “SO FINE” to know that
you’re getting grade A stuff. You should be able to read it on that
heart-shaped candy. If it looks cracked and all brittle, walk away. Get your
money’s worth.
“Bad Hair Day”
Fuck it. Fuck!
Fuck! Fuck!
Ay yo what’s the
hold up? Let’s go! Let’s go!
Shit. This thing
is itchy as hell! Fucking fucks.
What you gotta
wear that piece of shit thing for huh?
Shut up man.
Just let me do my thing and I’ll let you do yours, ayt?! I ain’t messing with
your do, man.
All I’m saying
is why wear a wig when you can just wear a mask?
Yo, people in
that joint ain’t gonna complain that Donald Trump hit them.
You have such
bad taste.
I wouldn’t go
that far to describe your sister, man.
“Voyeur”
The cat lady on 10th. I wonder how
many cans of tuna does she go through a week?
Mr. Douchebag on
the 9th. It’s not Porsh. It’s Por-shuh. Suck a dick.
Emily on 8th.
Really? Mr. 9th Floor?
7th.
Looks like Ray isn’t home yet.
6th.
Those two brewers have really good taste in music.
5th. Still
empty.
Jesus Christ
that brunette on 4th has a rocking body.
3rd
floor. Shit. I forgot to turn off the light in the kitchen. Good thing I~~~
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