I’ve got nothing to say

Trying to force the funny into a blog post is akin to almost giving yourself a stroke while sitting on the toilet. It’s not coming. It’s there, right around the corner, but you can’t just make it show up and do its thing.

I wonder if I make the same strained face sitting at my computer that I do during those times when I haven’t had quite enough fiber. Probably.

So, in the interest of science and humor, here is a series of the faces I make while trying to either gestate brilliant comedy or drop the kids off at the pool. I don’t normally look this jaundiced, but I turned on my overhead light which bathed me in sickly yellow.

I’m feeling confident that there’s something there.

Maybe if I dig a little deeper for the gold.

Oops. I think I just pulled a muscle.

Shouldn’t have eaten that barbed wire.

I think I’ve got a good train of thought going.

And finally, the moment of triumph. Ta da!

And, of course, whether we’re talking about comedy or the bathroom, normally what I end up with is a steaming pile of shit either way.

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