The Funny Cannot Be Displayed

I have an announcement to make. Brace yourselves, you may want to sit down. I am experiencing a bout of comedy block. I can't think of anything funny to write.

How is this possible you may ask? It's simple and humiliating really. Similar to writer's block, when the inflicted is encompassed by the loathsome mental impotence that causes comedy block, the brain ceases to generate humorous thoughts.

Generally, comedy block is caused by viewing bad YouTube skits, working too long with sullen gloomy co-workers, too much amphibian Geico lizard porn, consuming mass quantities of Starbucks coffee, and not getting enough comedy nourishment until your blogging output is a veritable maelstrom of cringe-worthy drivel.




So my question is, where did the funny go? Has global warming, Bush and Britney sucked everything good and fun from our lives? How can this happen?! What a mutilation of decency!

This horrifying proposition made me see that even though I am supposed to be your reliable news source for unreliable news. The place where I ignore the line between truth and fiction...even the stuff I make up can't be trusted to be factual or accurate, then I am by all accounts letting you, the readers down!

Being as nervous as a pregnant nun in a convent, I was about ready to do myself and everyone else a favor by jumping into a raging forest fire and join the endangered species list. But in trying to erase the comedy block I had an epiphany. In fact I conferred with the International Committee for Asinine Comedy (ICAC) and they agreed the idea was brilliant. In fact they argued that this post would truly be the blog post of the century!

Why not write about my limp and pathetic humor deficit for all to see?!

Yes! Turning a loathsome idea into a friendly one is where creativity begins.
Fear and loathing are interwoven. So it is with any creative enterprise.

We must make friends with the many-tentacled alien idea. We must breach our terror. We must dry hump the blog dwelling troglodyte that sucked the funny from out of our heads.

That's why this new therapy attracts me. Because I really do loathe not being funny...and I like dry humping stuff. Which is beside the point. As a matter of fact, I'd rather run my nose down a cactus, than not be funny or not dry hump something. I was a desperate man. And desperate times call for desperate measures.

Taking a day off to let the comedy block breathe. I watched the shattered ideas at work. They fed on the infection, growing to a full centimeter. At one point I could feel them gnawing and scratching. But it didn't bother me -- I'd passed the first psychological hurdle.

There's more!

Comedy block leaves behind a kind of ammonia-like excretion that disinfects the gaping wound comedy block leaves behind on gray matter. A veritable pissing on the brain by comedy block infection, and the healing is cleaner and more complete than it would be after surgery.

In the end, those bastard comedy block maggots have saved my comedic leg if you will!

It takes creative fearlessness to return to this remarkable state of absolute nothingness with such profound and intriguing ambiguity!

I revel in my lameness!!!!