Head Fulla Fog

I keep having fragmentary ideas for things to write about and then I get a paragraph in and in and the idea fades out.

I keep having fragmentary ideas for things to write about and then I get a paragraph in and in and the idea fades out.

I could talk about Hurricane Karl, which is looking like it’s getting together in the Atlantic with Hurricane Jeanne and Hurricane Lisa, and evidently having itself some sort of a stratospheric three-way. (Yeah I know these are not all officially hurricanes, don’t finger-fuck me with details.)

I could talk about the ‘What is Kinky” conversation I had with my friend Julie the other day, but I can’t even remember the conversation now. I think there was mention on anal sex though, which is about all that stuck in my head.

I could talk about a couple of Hussies at TARCON 5 only they’re not there yet. But all I gotta say is, Amazing Race really doesn’t suck, and the emmys agree, it just beat Survivor for the second year. Really, kids, give it a try. I could talk about those same hussies. But… Well, let’s just say I Love Me some Hussies and leave it at that.

I have a whole piece about drugs and my youth half imagined and slightly written but I keep losing where I was going on that one. I. Um. Wonder why.

And I have a whole essay on true love that was inspired by a conversation on dotnode (which is like orkut but not as much), but I can’t seem to find the right words.

But I guess what it comes down to is, I can’t seem to maintain concentration long enough to actually get an entry done here. Same problem I’ve been having with the several stories I keep trying to get work done on. Where the hell’s my Ritalin?

0 thoughts on “Head Fulla Fog”

  1. Where do drumsticks fit in? Well, depending on anatomy, experience, and amount of lubricant, just about anywhere, I suppose.

    I’d avoid the Extra Tasty & Crispy, though, if I were you.

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