Disconnected Ramblings of the Crazed Writer

I’m not sure if Murphy (of Murphy’s Law) loves me or hates me. I’m having a solid case of Murphy’s law for writers and most other beings right now.

  • I notice the typos and other issues only after I publish
  • I mention a topic and immediately things happen to make it impossible for me to follow up on said topic (yes, last week I posted about critical thinking and writers and this week I cannot brain. I think the damn thing is on vacation. It won’t send a postcard either. It never does. Selfish bitch, having cocktail thingies on some tropical beach without me).
  • None of the usual targets is active or even noticeable today
  • And I currently have no ability to remember.
  • Not to mention I’m damn near sleep-typing again.

Welcome to the life of the writer, those of you who aren’t actually writers yourselves. The rest of you are probably making little mental checkmarks and going “yep”, “yep”, “that one too”, and possibly “Holy crap, do we share a brain or what”.

There is a reason the teeny-tiny group chat of a few of us writer-types got called the group mind before long. The running joke became trying to figure out which of the members currently had custody of the shared brain. Although in my case, the answer was always “not me” because what passes for mine appears to have gone on semi-permanent hiatus.

Ah, well.

I shall have to content myself with warm fuzzy wish-fulfillment thoughts, like, oh, getting together with a group of friends to TP a certain trad publisher’s HQ. Just because it would be fun and make a statement about the quality of their offerings. Or maybe winning the lottery somewhere along the line and doing the whole “take this job and shove it” routine (I wouldn’t. Despite the evil that lurks within what passes for my soul, I’m actually cripplingly, horrifyingly… nice).

Or ordering these  for the bathroom (er… while there’s nothing really bad, it’s likely to hit all the work-safe filters, so follow with caution or even better, wait until you get home). They even have three colors – one of which is smurf, which says that somewhere out there there’s a smurf who modeled for these and is really an overachiever.

Okay. Maybe I should stop the mad ramblings for now and try to be more sensible next week.

18 Comments

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18 responses to “Disconnected Ramblings of the Crazed Writer

  1. paladin3001

    EVIL! I had to click the link. I haven’t finished my coffee and my resistance to suggestion was low!

    • Oh … my.
      (Yes, I clicked the link. I’m at home.)
      I did have a running joke in one of the Luna City books about the back-to-nature hippie couple selling …ahem… adult soaps of this nature for Valentine’s day, so I should not have been all that surprised.

      • I too looked. And I was reminded of Bridgid’s story on her blog about the automatic soap dispenser and her briefcase. *evil little kitty grin*

  2. That’s not a ratchet. It’s a phallus-y.

    😉

  3. Randy Wilde

    I keep my mind locked up in a little box. It’s really too small to be allowed to wander on its own.

    (can’t remember where I got that from… I’m thinking maybe Poul Anderson?)

  4. My mind wanders sometimes, but it can’t get far without help.

    The link didn’t help it at all, poor thing. Now its gone and fallen into the gutter…

    • Ya think? My maternal grandmother had a story about how they had a woman come to the emergency room because she had soap stuck where babies come out. She was a doctor in the rural area of Cagayan Valley, up in north Luzon’s Isabella region. That was the first thing I remembered when I saw that.

      The second was “Well, there are women going to be stealin’ those… Or some men.”

      • An emergency room doctor acquaintance of mine once related to me a story about a potato. That sprouted. I will spare you all the details.

        [running away now]

        • I… think I read something like that. In a book. It wasn’t being used as a …sexual substitute from what I recall, but was inserted for some vague therapeutic reason.

          There was also the woman who was using grape jelly instead of KY jelly… because the doctor she’d spoken to previously advised her to use jelly.

          • Potatoes have astringent properties, and tend to be cold (from being kept in cellars or cool dark pantries. Which means they could be used as a home remedy to reduce hemorrhoids. I don’t live in Appalachia, or the high Rockies, or in the far northern Canadian forests bordering the tundra; so it’s a lot more convenient and hygienic to just buy a tube of Preparation H or a bottle of witch hazel and a bag of cotton balls.

          • Some people think its birth control…

  5. Murphy’s been here, too, looking over my shoulder as I’m trying to do a book cover. Thought the final result was passable, only to discover an embarrassing rookie error. Yes, it would be noticed. Time for Yet Another Revision. Grumble.

  6. Mike Houst

    You know, it was soooo appropriate for the “Make Obama President Again” hat to be advertised on the same site as those oddly shaped soaps. (I’d rather leave my hands covered with old axel grease than use those.) Thank goodness “Fred On Everything” had a post this week that was the correct antidote!

  7. Christopher M. Chupik

    Disconnected ramblings are the best kind of sausages.