Every writer encounters writer's block at some point in their career. For some it's a temporary obstacle, for others an eternal achilles heel. Many famous wordsmiths have turned to alcohol and drugs as a means of producing fluiditous works and avoiding such obstacles. Since I've been super-busy over the last few weeks and unable to maintain this site, I thought why not get hammered one night and see what brilliance I could produce.
Two of my most beloved artists, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Herman Melville thrived on the sauce, and while their love of liquor may have derailed several elements of their personal lives, I can only appreciate how great their literary works are. (Read Melville's 'Pierre' more than once.)
Without further ado, I present the first, and the absolute last time that I will ever get incoherently plastered, write something comparable to drivel and share it with my friends and peers. I present to you, the worst thing I have ever written:
Hey yo hey yo straight the fuck up! It's just me, ma bra and me two dogs this weeken. wienie pon da diving-board at that an dem nationals ina de winipeg....pardon the spelling errorrrs and a dem but me parents witha with them to adem winnipeg olla at me dun. it's a 3:440 am and graveyard be ad drunk as a fuck'a bra. tewuila and a dem beersequal at a mass destructiojn braaaaa braaaaaaaaaa.
well te point ids thatbdem a two dem two dogs lay at m feet dem a with me have thast cheese what thhhhhhe dfuckadfre a demfrach .
dogs. gnaarley .
dogs . braa...What more needs to be said?
