Writer's block...exists? ...

Well, there you go. Not even 50 posts and he's already spewing jargon like a Pulitzer prize winning author. (Dude, we, the regular readers read your crap ONLY because our lives are extremely unexciting with no prospect of any ray of sunshine tearing through the dark clouds of mundane, non-awe-inspiring jobs {much like yours}. Its got nothing to do with your caliber {?} as an author - {wait, are bloggers authors? - I've asked this before but no one replied [ you useless non-answering @$@#%%s, shakes fist]}. So don't you throw any pretence of pompousness!)

Nope, no pretensions. Absolutely from the heart. I was doing some work in office till a bit late and am now waiting for a chap to give me a lift home. So I thought to myself my poor readers have been begging and cajoling me to write something nice, and all i've been able to give them is irregular, self-pitying drivel (Extremely well written irregular, self-pitying drivel, may I hasten to add)

So today I thought I shall write for them. Make them laugh their heads off and roll around clutching their stomachs in various homes/offices/malls/garages/jails across the world (depending on the time zone, and its associated activity in that particular country. NO, i'm not saying that there maybe some of my reader-base in countries where going to jail would be a regular activity....OH shut up- all i'm trying to do is to obliquely refer to the visitors map on the right. Yay! I'm being read all over the world! {except Africa, but I guess they'd find it difficult to find time for my writings while they struggle with lions and hyenas and despotic dictators.[I know all this is stereotyping a place, much like India is a land of elephants, snakecharmers and software engineers in a lot of western eyes, but WHAT THE HELL! no one from the entire continent was literate enough to stumble upon my blog?[Hey, its only the stumbling part thats a toughie, when a reader gets to this blog, he or hopefully she can't resist getting hooked])

So I put on my writer's cap, lit up my pipe and took up my quill to pour forth humour, mirth, sarcasm and satire for the benefit of my mentally parched readers. I was on the verge of writing something so brilliant that I knew that the readers life would never be the same again. The very basic tenets that she has shall be inverted and they would gasp at the audacity of the words i'd've written

But, zilch, zero, nothing. I can't think of anything to write.

And i've got a call from the guy who's gonna drop me home...

so cheerios mates, hopefully I'll have something substantial to say the next time I write :)