Sometimes a voice asks me, “Hey Deviant Dorkula, how do  you overcome writers’ block?”  My response is usually something like, “Shut up, imaginary Brent Spiner blow up doll!  My therapist says I shouldn’t be listening to you!”  Then I take the blue pill and the voice goes away for a little bit.  Then I realize I really do have writers’ block, and I am not sure how to overcome it, but I really think some Johnsonville Stadium Brats would taste good right now, even though I am chubby and need to lose weight, so while I eat the bratwursts I make an exercise plan that will be implemented for about three days before I forget all about it and come back around to figuring out how to get past writers’ block.

Self-deprecating humor… check
Latent bisexuality comment complete with B-class celebrity… check
Filler sentence fragments… check

The number one way I break through writers’ block is with music.  Music can inspire.  Music can also just remind you of random shit, too short lived to make an entire blog about, that you can just throw against the proverbial wall and see what sticks in your readers’ … hair I guess.  I swear I had something there, but the “block” got me and it poofed away faster than Penelope Cruz’s performance career.

Alliterative joke… check
Awkward segue… check

“Fools,” said I, “You do not know:
Silence, like a cancer, grows.
Hear my words that I might teach you.
Take my arms that I might reach you.”

Disturbed, Sound of Silence

You cannot help someone who does not see herself in danger.  You cannot save someone who does not think he is at risk.  But silence, like a cancer, grows.  Staying silent is not something you should do if you see someone being hurt, or attacked, or abused.  So speak your mind.  When he or she does not believe you, or change, do not leave.  Be the friend needed, because some day he might see how the woman he cares about is just playing him as a fool.  Some day she might see how her husband is emotionally lobotomizing her.  And you should be there to save them when that moment comes.

Being a hero is hard work.

I get it started and then I’m broken hearted
‘Cause I can’t get a hold of the beast
It’s like I’m blind, I’m running out of time
And everything I crave is out of reach

You say I drink too much, you say I fuck too much
So what the hell am I supposed to do?
I wanna die and kill my dirty mind

Buckcherry, Gluttony

Someone I knew passed away this week.  He apparently had a massive heart attack and that was the end of a life.  Now, I did not want him dead… but I did not like him either.  He did things that I think were questionable at the least, and immoral at the worst.  Yep, he ate too much.  Yep, some would say he fucked too much.  I am not sure on the drinking part, but probably at some point he did.  And as much as I did not like him, one cannot say that he did not live his life as fully as he could.  So he has at least a smidgen of my respect for taking advantage of what most of us take for granted on a daily basis.

Excuse me as my dirty mind and I take a small break to eat, fuck, masturbate, drink, and smoke some weed before the next lyrical inspiration.  Carpe diem.

And talk about coincidence.  Next song to randomly pop up on my Spotify playlist:

I’m about to go blind and I feel like a creep
Cause it’s pressing on my horn like beep beep beep
Now my driving is getting erratic
Cause this transmission is automatic

Go kart racing
Accidentally masturbating

Garfunkel and Oates, Go Kart Racing

A woman told me this week that she has never masturbated.  Ever.  And is uninterested in ever doing it.  Now before you get all sanctimonious and applaud her devotion to God or some such, you should know she does enjoy fucking around.  Now I do not care because, well, look at how I live romantically.  Sex and love and relationships are three topics where I am fully supportive of people doing whatever makes them happy.  I just wanted to preempt any hallelujah-ing.

Now where was I… oh yes, the no masturbation thing.  That attitude completely stumps me.  I understand asexual individuals (brother-in-law), sexually active people with moral qualms about possible overuse of their own fun button infringing on their partners’ fulfillment  (sister-in-law), and people who store up sexual energy like squirrels gathering nuts for the winter to unleash it all in glorious fun-filled weekends (Hi Cheri!).  But a sexually active person never trying solo play?  Seems like an oxymoron.

And then another women said the same thing.  I know it cannot be a general women’s attitude against masturbation, because those two are the oddities among my female friends.  But like I said… so long as they are happy, do whatever.  I just do not understand it and that is okay.

So have you got the guts?
Been wondering if your heart’s still open and if so I wanna know what time it shuts
Simmer down and pucker up
I’m sorry to interrupt. It’s just I’m constantly on the cusp of trying to kiss you
I don’t know if you feel the same as I do
But we could be together if you wanted to

Arctic Monkeys, Do I Wanna Know?

My new girlfriend/submissive (Hi Lois!) is bisexual.  She is crushing hard on this co-worker.  I keep telling her to ask the co-worker out after work, see if there is a connection, and get it out in the open.  My gal keeps getting shy and nervous and says no.  She is worried about being accused of sexual harassment at work.  Which is an unrealistic fear:  sexual harassment is using sex for promotion or demotion, or unwanted advances that make a work environment uncomfortable.  Asking a co-worker out is not harassment.  It would only be harassment if my girl kept bugging or hinting or nudging or whatever after being told no.  Or being too affectionate at work if her co-worker said yes and offending other co-workers.

Sometimes we all use excuses to avoid taking a chance and risking rejection.  And perhaps my gal will never ask out her super-cute, short, blonde co-worker. Decisions like that should not be made with excuses, but with careful weighing of possible pros and cons.

The worst thing that could happen is having your sexual ego bruised by a twenty-something cutie shooting you down like she is an expert at the video game Centipede… and you are the oblivious bouncing spider being blasted apart by her scathing disinterest.

Hiding bruised ego behind humor… check
Continuing to tease twenty-year old… check
End blog (entry)… check
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