Saturday, January 14, 2006

Blogger's block

Blogging has become a bit of a chore for me, so my apologies to any disappointed visitors. When I first started the RT, the ideas and the ability to flesh them into full posts fell like rain, but today it almost feels like I have to be a parody of a blogger (“Here’s my essay on why the new pop tart commercials are not funny. Please enjoy my random and only mildly appropriate reference to The Snorks.”).

The odd thing is that I hear a bunch of things that would have passed for viable post themes back in the day – it’s the “fleshing” part that I’m having trouble with. At my best, I could take a seminar on teeth and make it somewhat interesting. Now I’m not even sure I could make anyone laugh by telling a story about ten monkeys with eye patches. (Man, that would be hilarious.)

So, until I find my ability to snow through a good topic again, here is a list of the themes I’ve stumbled across in the last few days that deserve mention:

Greg told me during the second period of last Thursday’s hockey game that his beer tasted like grass clippings, then mold, then mint, then old, musty comic books. That’s what you get for ordering a bud light, I say.

Lisa bitch slapped me last night with her ring hang. Now I have a 10 carat gash on my cheek. Okay, actually, she went to hug me and cheekbone met thumbnail a little too lovingly and now I have a four millimeter scratch that you’d probably mistake for a bogey if you actually saw it.

It’s official. I got hooked on Lost. If you were trapped on a desert island, which hobbit would you want with you?

Attention boyfriends and husbands and anyone else who wants to learn about women. Lisa just asked if I like her new hairdo and I answered that I did because it looked as though she’d been playing hockey. This is not a funny joke. Don’t ever say this.

Any pastry or baked item that tastes good, in my opinion, tastes infinitely better before cooked. Cookie dough, pancake batter, pie crust, even frozen waffles. Bring ‘em on.

Lisa’s Tyne Daly is my Judd Hirsch.

I envy my brother, Louis, for his ability to lightening round through a million funny one-liners. Last night, he told a story of seeing a doctor who looked at his mole and offered to “whack it off” for him. In the time it took me to think up a “happy ending” joke, he had rattled through a dozen quips that had everyone rolling.

I heard my baby’s heartbeat yesterday. My baby has a heart. It takes after Lisa in that respect.

4 comments:

Esther said...

1. Bud light is nasty.
2. Raw pancake batter is nasty.
3. Hockey hair jokes are ALWAYS funny, unless they're about your wife. Feel free to make them about your niece.
4. You're still pretty good with the one liners. Our 15 minute improv about Cecilia getting a job at Felidia is one for the books. (Where's she going to work next? Spohneria?)
5. Yay for baby heartbeats!

R said...

Brownie batter is by far the best!

sunsnoozer said...

any man with a wife and a sense of humor is doomed to a lifetime of "not funny". god luck

sunsnoozer said...

make that good luck. luck is something God doesn't need.