polywolly

I haven't. He stood me up, the bastard... I have never enjoyed eating dinner before a movie.

2342

...smoked a bit of pot and became the slow, stoned fox. Games are fun because__________.

child's play

2334 - That one wasn't as fun. Although, I'm looking forward to the spanking. May I close my eyes and call you Severus? Excuse me while I go smoke and laugh myself tearful.

^ Is something, for sure. Where she is, she'll never tell me. < Is American, and glad the neighbor has finished with his freakishly loud, bright, and probably illegal fireworks. V Went to see fireworks today...or...ate something with bread in/on/around it.

I am a bit frightened of StoryJunkie. I am enjoying my holiday off as well. I am trying not to think of returning to work tomorrow. I am pretending tomorrow is Monday so I'll be SO surprised when I realize it's Wednesday. I know. Little pleasures...

Neither have I. Plan to go someday, when stacks of money flow down the rivers like salmon. I have never owned a pet lizard.

What will Ted Nugent buy from the gas station tomorrow morning? Little pink ribbons.

Excuse Me Mr. (song)

Sorry. Just a poly. StoryJunkie?

I am no longer allowed to tell my husband to, "Get a hobby, read a book, I-don't-fucking-care, just stop following me around and asking, 'Whatcha doin'?' for ten bloody minutes. K?"

No. Unfortunately, I've never had any good looking teachers, nor the equipment required to achieve an erection. Now, if Alan Rickman taught English Lit... *ahem* Has seen someone they know and then ducked down so as not to be spotted.

...to bring the tweezers in case of splinters. When a bat flys very low to the ground, it means __________.

2332 - I just want to type that over and over...2332233223322332... It's like skipping, but with numbers!

snapeybot...(don't ask )

Because God drew the shades. How does one make smoke signals?

Yukon (by GMC)

Mr. and Mrs. Smith (movie)

I am no longer allowed to grumble. All the time. About every-damn-thing.

^ Was partially right. < Wants a laptop so she can write smut...I mean...edit important personal documents while at work. < Will only do so on her breaks and lunch hour... < ...maybe... V Never writes outside of their home.

I am hot as well. I am hoping that the heat does not mean I have died and gone to hell. I am to sleepy to be coherent. I am founding the Church of Smores. All marshmallow, all the time. I am concerned for the elves suffocating in their hard, candy shells. I am no longer concerned. There are plenty of elf-lovers around here who would love to gnaw them a hole to breathe through, as well as to other things through…

2328 - the number of times I've yawned in the last 8 minutes

Optima (I think it's a Toyota product, or something. It belongs to someone somewhere...)

After contending with much the same predicament of late, I completely understand. There are times when, "Steve crossed the room," seems an impossible sentence to formulate, let alone a compound sentence. Walking away from the story for a while, or particularly that page you've been staring at for so long the blinking cursor has burned itself into your retinas, can do wonders. Although, I agree with you about liking the literary vacation a bit too much. If I stay away too long I find other plots swirling in my head and then I can stare at their half-written pages for a while. Another trick I've used is to read the story again from start to the current, seemingly insurmountable part. Sometimes that sparks the new ideas or thought processes necessary to jumpstart the next word or two. One I've used recently is to read a story by an author you admire, one you've already finished so you don't get sucked back into the plot, so that their way with words motivates you to write your own. Sometimes I find it helpful to write from a perspective of jealousy. "Ha! I could have put that better!" Then, I redirect that energy into my current work of smut, I mean, art... I do feel your pain. It's more frustrating than anything, knowing what you want to say but not how to say it. It would be easier to be completely blocked so that, at the very least, you wouldn't know what you were not getting written. That likely made no sense at all, but I'm here to help. Did the smores help at all? (see the "I am..." thread in the games forum) To close this ramble of a post, I'll say that I've read many of your wonderfully crafted posts and I know you will overcome this hiccup in authorial bliss. You have a way with words, but words are sometimes like cats. They come when they feel like it, and then they hack up fur balls on your pillow. Wait...that's not right...