My blogging routine. Also, beers.
Posted on August 12, 2007
Filed Under Anatomy of a Drunk Man, Daily, Failures
Something you should know about me: I really cannot write shit in the morning or the afternoon. I write mostly at night and in fact, I as I write this, it’s 7:08pm on a Sunday. I find it nearly impossible if not totally impossible to get any sort of work involving my brain done during work days, what with all the Flash games I play and personal phone calls I make using the phone in the HR department at work. Besides, I usually process all the masturbatory fodder I absorb from prime time TV during the day so I pretty much just feverishly masturbate from the time I wake up until the time I have to drive to work and at work (10 minute “quickies” every other hour at the office john) up until I get off. And when I do get home and finish making love to myself a few more times, I try to work on my blogging projects.
This would’ve all been fine if only my small alcohol problem doesn’t rear its ugly head every fucking time. I mean although it has always been my contention that a writer cannot be called a real writer unless he has some sort of fucked up dependency(Shakespeare was rumored to have done Opium while working on his chef-d’oeuvres and Oscar Wilde was paederastic and was into age-structured homosexuality); I’ve never quite hit the delicate balance between “being drunk enough to write in an inspired manner” and “Too hammered to even hit the right keys and JESUS CHRIST, I JUST SPILLED RHUM COLA ON MY FUCKING MACBOOK!” spot on. I know that it’s all just a matter of moderation (yes, I’m a genius) as the right amount of alcohol could practically make you better at everything–writing, talking, bowling, sex (?) but if you end up with too much in your system, you’ll end up throwing a bowling ball down some other group’s lane, you’ll end up trying to stick your bird up your girlfriend’s other hole and writing shit that more or less reads like:
I really had an awsozme day! I sasw this guy who plays Lupin and he laooked totally fcukcing gay! What a gay that richarad cguttierez guy! I mean wThat the fuck!aa!
Aside from my glaring alcohol problem, I’m really having a hard time writing blog entries than I’ve ever had. Before these blogging projects, blogging was merely a hobby. I had a regular high-paying job and I treated the gig as my escape. But trust $200 a month extra to make things do a complete 180. Now, writing funny or at least trying to write anything funny has become a real job from the hobby it was before.
Another distraction would be television. I mean, how do you expect a guy to write anything that even remotely makes sense if shit like Midnight Hot plays on FTV every fucking time aforementioned guy tries to write? Now, if there’s anything at all I want you, my readers, to learn from reading shit from this site, let it be this: do not watch Fashion TV late at night when you’re already fucked up by booze and really depressed because you arbitrarily decided to stop your anti-depressant intake after you decided that the money you spent on these silly pills is better off being spent on cases of Red Horse.
It’s all good though. Sure, there are times when I would completely lose my train of thought watching a documentary on National Geographic about how Fruit Bats mate (and of course masturbating to it a few minutes later) and times when I would spend hours on end staring in front of a blank Word Processor Document, watching the fucking cursor blink in the brink of crying while thinking “What the fuck’s up with you, you fat fuck? Why don’t you just churn some random shit for your blog? I mean you have a loyal reader base who’d eat up everything you spew anyway? What the fuck’s your problem? Also, it would help if you can fucking stop thinking about masturbation every other minute.” But most of the time, It’s all good.
(No it’s not. Who the fuck am I kidding? I’m getting a massage. And maybe a few beers. Fuck you all.)
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The Star
Mike "Fucking" Villar
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"The personal blog of Marketing Strategist, Rising Internet Star, Man Blog editor, child pornographer, alcoholic, and cokehead-- Douchebag Jones--Err, Mike Villar! -
Um, okay.
When the fuck did you learn to start making rum cokes on your own?!
Models from midnight hot are okay but fruit bats? hmmmmmm…
Hmm Helga, ever since you stopped making them for me I guess?
a writer cannot be called a real writer unless he has some sort of fucked up dependency –> Yep, Alcohol it is…