There are times, when I haven't been reminded of some humorous incident from my childhood or when it's not a particular holiday or it's not time to write about the next song in Rolling Stone's list of "The 500 Greatest Songs of All Time," when I just sit down at the keyboard and start typing...and hope that something worthwhile spills out through my fingertips.
Any post under the tag "improvisation" is created that way.
Often, I end up writing a poem. Even if it's not funny, the fact that it rhymes will impress enough people to get a few clicks. At least that's the idea.
But now, here I am, four paragraphs deep into a piece of prose with no prior planning or an inkling of an idea of what to say...and my hope that something worthwhile spills out through my fingertips seems to be absolutely groundless.
Like a bottomless pit.
Like a bag of roasted coffee beans.
Like the accusation that I'm independently wealthy and more handsome than Brad Pitt.
That's right, I'm a funny guy...
...but looks aren't everything.