Wordy Block Lurgy – Have You Caught It Too?

 

Over the last few days, as I’ve been skipping my way round the blogs making a few inroads into the massive pile of post notifications in my email, I’ve encountered a VERY STRANGE THING – I’m not the only one with WORDY BLOCK. An exceptional amount of bloggers have it. Bloggers who are normally prolific and reliable are struggling for words. They can’t think of what to write. Their mojo has turned into noflo.

WHY?

What’s going on?

Is it a nasty lurgy? A WORDY BLOCK flu?

Are we all infecting each other?

YES WE ARE!

The blogging atmosphere is RIFE WITH WORDY BLOCK GERMS.

Doesn’t anyone own a HANDKERCHIEF? It’s basic HYGIENE when a lurgy is doing the rounds – YOU DON’T SNEEZE YOUR GERMS INTO THE AIR FOR EVERYONE ELSE TO CATCH. YOU USE A HANKY. OR A TISSUE. OR A BIT OF LOO ROLL IF YOU HAVEN’T GOT A HANKY OR A TISSUE.

 

 

Who started it? Who was THE FIRST TO BE INFECTED?

It wasn’t me.

I use PALMOLIVE ANTIBACTERIAL HANDWASH that kills 99.9% of BACTERIA (the blue stuff – it’s good).

And I use tissues. KLEENEX BALSAM TISSUES.

So it definitely wasn’t me.

Was it YOU?

 

And what if it turns into WORDY BLOCK PNEUMONIA?

What if we all DIE OF WORDY BLOCK?

You’ll wish you’d washed your hands then, won’t you, you FIRST-INFECTED SPREAD-THE-LURGY FUCKER? Because you’ll be left with NOTHING TO READ when we ALL DIE.

And you’ll wish you’d used a hanky. FUCKING SKANK.

And when you’ve killed us all off I hope WordPress sues the arse off you and you have to declare yourself BANKRUPT.

BASTARD.

FILTHY GERM-RIDDEN PIG.

DIRTY, DISEASY TRAMP.

 

If I could be bothered opening up Photoshop I’d make you a sign to hang round your neck to let people know WHAT YOU ARE.

*

UNCLEAN

UNCLEAN

UNCLEAN

*

 

 

Fucker.

 

 

Oops, I Did It Again

 

Don’t get too excited, Britney Spears hasn’t hacked into my blog – it’s still me, your little Dotty, but once again I haven’t written a post because nothing’s happened. This is a side effect of Hermititis and People Phobia, most of the time it’s too boring for words and today is one of those times. I can’t think of anything to write about and if I could it would be just as boring as the twaddle I’m writing now, the hackneyed old cliched pile of shite about not having anything to write about.

This is one of the downsides of just sitting down to write and pressing publish when I’ve finished – I never have any back-up posts, in fact the idea of back-up posts hadn’t entered my head until I saw it mentioned in someone’s blog a few weeks ago, then I noticed that lots of people do it – but how can I do back-up posts when I can’t even think of ONE?

 

AAAAAAARRRGGGGHHH!!

No it didn’t work. I thought an idea might fly out with the scream.

 

the cat sat on the mat – the cat sat on the mat (advice from Dodie Smith)

Nope, nothing.

 

Except — my face towel was a bit rough this morning, I’ll have to use more fabric conditioner next time I do the washing.

 

I should have just wrote another absence note.

 

Oh-oh-oh — I did do something, I had a tidy up of my blog pages and put things into lists and made it neater. I did it this morning when I was trying to think of a post. Did anyone notice? No, I didn’t think so.

 

I should just shut up, shouldn’t I?

 

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