Writer's Block: The Things We Carry
So LJ has thing to help unblock their bloggers. Each day (I think) they ask a question that's supposed to get you drooling to write.
I hope it works.
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Today's question is: What do you always carry with you?
Cigarettes, man. Cigarettes.
When I run out of cigarettes or forget them at home, I panic. So I always carry at least 2 packs with me. You know, just in case I get stuck in the middle of a desert island on my way to the grocery. Or some asshole on the street tells me that he thinks I've got a huge pussy -- I would need a lit cigarette to flick at his face. Then I would need another one just to relax and get my Zen back.
A few years back, in KL with a bunch of friends, watching Harold and Kumar Go to the White Castle. Just as Kumar was picking up a hitchhiking Doogie Hawser, the building started to shake. After the initial panic of realising that it was shaking not because we were high out of our asses, we grabbed our things and headed down 7 floors, across the parking lot and into open space. While my friends grabbed their bags and their laptops, I got my ciggies and my lighter. Hell, if I was going to be crushed by Malaysian debris, I wasn't going to be sending anyone email, but I sure as hell would need a freaking fag.
And yeah, if that's not proof that ciggies are not the thing always carry with me, I don't know what is.
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I think the Writer's Block thing helped. But I'm still waiting for my groove back.
I hope it works.
-----
Today's question is: What do you always carry with you?
Cigarettes, man. Cigarettes.
When I run out of cigarettes or forget them at home, I panic. So I always carry at least 2 packs with me. You know, just in case I get stuck in the middle of a desert island on my way to the grocery. Or some asshole on the street tells me that he thinks I've got a huge pussy -- I would need a lit cigarette to flick at his face. Then I would need another one just to relax and get my Zen back.
A few years back, in KL with a bunch of friends, watching Harold and Kumar Go to the White Castle. Just as Kumar was picking up a hitchhiking Doogie Hawser, the building started to shake. After the initial panic of realising that it was shaking not because we were high out of our asses, we grabbed our things and headed down 7 floors, across the parking lot and into open space. While my friends grabbed their bags and their laptops, I got my ciggies and my lighter. Hell, if I was going to be crushed by Malaysian debris, I wasn't going to be sending anyone email, but I sure as hell would need a freaking fag.
And yeah, if that's not proof that ciggies are not the thing always carry with me, I don't know what is.
____
I think the Writer's Block thing helped. But I'm still waiting for my groove back.