Writing Aids
Certainly I am asking for stomach problems. I write best when drinking coffee. I write second best when drinking Martinis followed by beer. I do not write well after eating.
Today I made usual first pot of Bustelo brand espresso coffee from Mexico. It comes in a vacuum packed brick. I do not use an espresso maker, but rather a conventional coffee pot. Upon finishing the rich nutty brew, it is my habit to stop writing and begin wasting time. I watch the Rachael Ray show. I read The Assimilated Negro, Defective Yeti, View from the Edge, and Informed Comment. I find that I am no longer wasting time, but finding solutions to the world's problems. I pleasure myself to de-stress from this.
But today, my hands shaking, I remembered my father's advice when I told him the above paragraph: "Why don't you make another pot?" So I did, and today has been my most productive writing day since I was trapped on a family vacation in August with no cigarettes except the Virginia Slims menthol 120's that I stole from my uncle, who lost a leg in Vietnam (and considering the brand of cigarettes, he may have lost more than that).
Anal virginity. But why stop here?
I have eaten two Triscuits and two brown rice cakes. I sip my Martini, which I have made with Finlandia vodka in a 6:1 vodka to vermouth ratio. There is a single olive floating in the drink. Normally I would put in two olives, but these olives have been in the refrigerator, opened, for a year or more. My scientific instinct tells me that mold and certain bacteria cannot grow in a very saline environment such as olive brine, but if that's wrong there's no need to be doubly sick. Or considering the hangover as a 2x multiplier, quadruply sick.
Now that I'm done insisting that these things help me write, what shall I write about?
---
Today I made usual first pot of Bustelo brand espresso coffee from Mexico. It comes in a vacuum packed brick. I do not use an espresso maker, but rather a conventional coffee pot. Upon finishing the rich nutty brew, it is my habit to stop writing and begin wasting time. I watch the Rachael Ray show. I read The Assimilated Negro, Defective Yeti, View from the Edge, and Informed Comment. I find that I am no longer wasting time, but finding solutions to the world's problems. I pleasure myself to de-stress from this.
But today, my hands shaking, I remembered my father's advice when I told him the above paragraph: "Why don't you make another pot?" So I did, and today has been my most productive writing day since I was trapped on a family vacation in August with no cigarettes except the Virginia Slims menthol 120's that I stole from my uncle, who lost a leg in Vietnam (and considering the brand of cigarettes, he may have lost more than that).
Anal virginity. But why stop here?
I have eaten two Triscuits and two brown rice cakes. I sip my Martini, which I have made with Finlandia vodka in a 6:1 vodka to vermouth ratio. There is a single olive floating in the drink. Normally I would put in two olives, but these olives have been in the refrigerator, opened, for a year or more. My scientific instinct tells me that mold and certain bacteria cannot grow in a very saline environment such as olive brine, but if that's wrong there's no need to be doubly sick. Or considering the hangover as a 2x multiplier, quadruply sick.
Now that I'm done insisting that these things help me write, what shall I write about?
---
posted by JMH | 7:56 PM
1 Comments:
"A saline environment such as olive brine."
We should write a cookbook together. By "we" I mean you should do the writing. Or we can conspire together and make it a conversational cookbook.
Peppering the conversation with words such as "anal" and "virginity".
We would, of course, drink lots of varying liquids that vary in temperature. All would bring about varying degrees of intoxication.
Yes, quite.
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