Why won't this post write itself? I've been believing in myself, trying my hardest, and putting my trust in god, and it still just isn't happening! Not that any of you can tell that... for you, it's just here, for you to read. Like magic.
'It's magic, he's a WITCH!'
Hey, hey, put away the pitchforks and torches, it's not really magic. Calm down for a second, and I'll try to spell it ou...
'HE'S CASTING A SPELL!' GET HIM!
Whoa, WHOA, take it easy, will ya? Jeez, why does everything have to turn into a witch hunt?
'WITCH HUNT! WITCH HUNT!'
Okay, let's start over...
Hi everyone! I'm Hugh Telmi, and I've been suffering a touch of writer's block. Just a touch, mind you, not a full blown blockage. I never run out of words, sometimes I just can't seem to make them work the way I want them to. This is one of those times.
I have a dozen drafts of things that I want to joke about, but every time I work on one of them, it turns into an essay. You didn't come here to read essays, did you? No, you most likely came here to get away from reading crap like that.
Hive is full of essays, mostly about the usefulness of Hive. Not that there's anything wrong with that... I'm happy to let people indulge in whatever kink they like, as long as it doesn't hurt anyone who doesn't want to be hurt. The only people getting hurt by Hive essays are people hoping to be entertained.
I'm not saying this essay about essays is any more entertaining than that, but at least it's about something different. Or is it? It certainly was, until I kinda made it about Hive essays.
Since I can make this about anything I want, I'll make it about something else. Something exciting. Surprises? Sex? Surprises that happen during sex?
Have you or your partner ever ripped a huge fart during sex? It's more of a surprise, usually, if your partner does it, but I've found that sometimes I can surprise myself as well, especially during climax. It's definitely better to have this happen at the end, especially if it's particularly... ripe. That can definitely kill the mood.
That was a lot nastier than I thought it would be. I should go back and delete it, like magic, but my current mood is: 'If I have to suffer with that thought, so do you!'
Maybe that's enough for now... it's only likely to get worse if I keep going. If you're thinking 'What could be worse than that?', keep that thought to yourself. Don't ever, EVER ask me that question, unless you're willing to be traumatized by the answer.
Thanks for helping me get through that, everyone. I'm not sure if anything is better or worse, but it killed a little time, and I ended up with a post to publish. Not a very good one, I admit. If I can admit that, you can admit that you cracked a smile over the fart joke. It's okay, we're here to smile, maybe even laugh. If we're lucky, we can take some of those laughs with us. Next time you're about to have sex, try not to laugh about the possibility of someone farting. It'll ruin the mood.
You're welcome!
I find the many layers I'm wearing in this selfie to be a good metaphor for writer's block... and the hazmat gear adds a layer of extra punchline to the fart jokes.
Thanks for reading! See you next time, you silly souls!
