BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

There are times when you have to clean out the old brainpan. Get rid of excess words, phrases, clauses, and other ridiculous stuff. It’s a battle writers fight constantly. Generally we do it because if we don’t get the unsaleable crap out of the way, then we can’t put the saleable crap on the paper.

Kinda like freeing up a log jam, so to speak.

So, I’m sure you are probably wondering what qualifies as a writer’s soluble fiber for the brain… The Ex-Lax for the cerebral cortex so to speak…

I have no clue.

All I can say is that when it takes hold, all manner of nonsensical BS  – AKA Brain Sh*t – will spew forth. If you don’t believe me, just read the other entries in this blog… I mean, it isn’t called Brainpan Leakage for nothing, ya’know…

So, anyway, on this particular day in history, my grey matter was cramping a bit, and the next thing you know I had… well… you know… an urgent brain movement.

Not having time to get to the blog, I took advantage of the first receptacle I could find… What follows here are a series of inane, nonsensical, brain sh*t expelling tweets sent forth from my Twitter account this morning, all including their original hashtag – #WTF…

BTW – I received three comments in the wake of this leakage – one person was horribly confused, another enjoyed them immensely, and well, the other commented by simply unfollowing me. Guess I was just a little too intense.

I wasn’t concerned when she pulled the handcuffs from her overnight bag. However, the spatula and pinking shears gave me pause… #WTF

There was only one way out that didn’t involve a body bag. Now, all I needed were some high heels, a spark plug, and a can of peas… #WTF

The stilettos, she had, even if they weren’t my size. It was the spark plug and canned veggies that seemed out of my reach… #WTF

The room smelled like toast, and she looked like prepackaged sex. It was when the pizza arrived that I understood her plan… #WTF

It was thin crust, with double anchovies and extra cheese. The aroma was intoxicating, but somehow I knew it wasn’t meant for me… #WTF

“You’re late!” she screamed. The pizza guy cowered, but it was too late. Now the pinking shears protruded from his chest… #WTF

If only there had been black olives on that pie, then perhaps I could have made my escape. But, the peas were still eluding me… #WTF

My luck held. She grabbed the spatula, then went in search of another victim. “Be right back,” she said, as she exited the room… #WTF

This was my chance. Maybe I could do this without the peas. But wait, what about the shoes? Damn, she was still wearing them… #WTF

I resigned myself to whatever fate had in store. Even if I could get by without the peas, the high heels and spark plug were a must… #WTF

I had just given up when the hotel detective entered the room. “Am I interrupting?” he asked. “Yes, but please do,” I replied… #WTF

It seems they had found her in the lobby, spatula in hand as she served cheesecake to the guests in her own special way… #WTF

“What tipped you off?” I asked, absently rubbing my wrists where the handcuffs had been cinched tight…. #WTF

“She wouldn’t let anyone have seconds,” the hotel detective replied, offering me a cigarette… #WTF

I lit the cig and stared off into space while muttering, “You know, if she’d left the shoes, I’m sure I could’ve escaped.” #WTF

The hotel detective shook his head. “Not likely. They were fuschia.” I looked at him sideways. “Fuschia?” #WTF

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “If they’d been red, maybe. But fuchsia, not a chance.” I nodded my own head in agreement… #WTF

“So, how did this all start?” the hotel detective asked. After correcting my spelling of fuchsia I looked out the window and sighed… #WTF

“Well, you see,” I began. “There was this pair of handcuffs…”  – 30 –  #WTF

More to come…

Murv

Note: If you Twitter you can follow me @mrsellars. Be careful, I might follow back…

Before you get all huffy and send me a nasty email, put that sentence on the back burner for a second and read the blog entry itself… The sentiment in the grandiose title is definitely not my own.

You see, a while back I penned a blog entry about, of all things, writing blogs. Yeah, pretty redundant, I know, but what can I say… It was a slow news day. At any rate, in a nutshell that particular entry investigated the whole concept of how, as an author who is also a blogger, I should only be writing about writing, (yeah, even more redundancy, go figure…) And, I was to do this all for the express purpose of disseminating information to other writers, and/or aspiring writers, so that they may learn from me.

Truth is, I didn’t even know I was qualified to teach, so as you can imagine this whole idea came as a shocker to me.

Well, if you happened to have read that particular entry you already know I found the above notion funnier than all hell. Still, even though I had, and have, every intention of continuing to write entertaining blogs rather than such self-serving B S as previously noted, I thought maybe I’d go out into the proverbial blogosphere and have myself a look see. You know what I mean… Do a little investigation on my own to find out if maybe I was missing a bus or something. Hey, I’ve made my share of mistakes, so it could very well be that this whole entertainment thing is a crock, and being a pompous ass is where it’s really at… What better way to find out than to do a little digging?

So, I tossed my cyber-shovel over my shoulder and away I went.

I read blog after blog, written by authors I had never heard of, but who purported themselves to be experts in the field of authoring. Know what I found?

A load of self-serving, pompous B S…

Yeah… I was disappointed. I wasn’t overly surprised by any stretch of the imagination, but I have to admit that I was definitely disappointed. I mean, after all, I was hoping to learn something. That’s what the whole writing about writing thing is all about, correct? Lesser writers like myself getting an education from the elite wordsmiths… (Of course, like I said, I had never heard of any of these elite authors, but that didn’t matter. They said they were the best of the best right there on their blogs, and they wouldn’t lie about something like that, would they?)

Well,  I have to admit that even though I found exactly what I was expecting to find,  I did in fact learn something. I learned that I was correct all along…

I  definitely do not want to be one of those types of bloggers, or even authors for that matter.

The harsh reality of the blogging world is this – there’s more than just a  convoy of turnip trucks full of us out there. The number of blogs currently on the web is way more than I can count, even if I take off my shoes and socks. Yeah… There are a whole lot of blogs, and each one is vying for attention. So, people – unfortunately, quite a few authors in particular – sometimes decide that in order to attract attention they should become self-appointed experts, then hand out advice from on-high.

“On-high” being the pedestal upon which they have placed themselves. And, unfortunately, the advice they dispense takes the form of criticism, more often than not.

Now, don’t get me wrong here… Everyone is entitled to an opinion, and even to expressing it aloud in most cases, whether critical or not. Of course, I should mention that one shouldn’t always express an opinion out loud… There are times when one should keep one’s opinion to oneself. It’s a matter of discretion and common sense.

At any rate, I readily admit I’m as guilty as anyone when it comes to the whole opinion expressing thing… Hell, I’m doing it right now. And, this might even be one of those occasions when I should be keeping my mouth shut. Who knows? I guess we’ll find out soon enough.

But the thing is, I always try to make note of the fact that what I am saying is merely my personal opinion, and that disagreeing with me does not a moron make.

So, opinions are not my issue. My gripe is when self-important people treat their opinions like they are hard, cold fact that everyone must cleave to lest they be labeled an idiot.

Well, actually, I should back up a second… I have to be honest. I really don’t have a gripe at all. Truth is, I found all of the stuff I read to be fairly amusing, but mostly because it’s so damn obvious the people who wrote it take themselves way too seriously. And, based on their rhetoric, if you can label it such, apparently they are effin’ brilliant, and I’m… Well… I’m not.

Just like it says in the title of this blog entry. And, to borrow one of this genre of bloggers favorite expressions, “I should know, because I [insert important sounding sh*t here].”

More to come…

Murv