A Procrastinatin’ We Will Go…

Does anyone else who writes have this problem?

You know how the story is going to end. You even know how you’re going to write it. And yet when it comes down to sitting down and writing, you’re lucky to get a sentence out every half hour despite the fact that it’s sitting in your brain, all ready to spooge on the page.

The unicorn story is giving me that problem. Despite the fact that it’s more or less “written” in my head, it’s refusing to come out, like a baby that had a preview of how bad life could get and has decided to stay in the womb and is digging in with both hands, refusing to come out and get spanked, screaming “No! I don’t wanna’!”

I hate these difficult children.

Whatever Happened To That Guy?

While walking around on the street today, somehow the topic of Lazarus came up. It got me to thinking, “Hey, when Jesus ressurrected that guy, did he remember to put a timer on him, or is the poor bastard condemned to eternal life?”

I pretty much see the conversation going something like this

Lazarus: You fucker. You rat fuck, son of a bitch.

Jesus: What?!?

L: You know what, don’t you? Don’t pretend to get all confused with me, you know exactly what I’m talking about!

J: What? No, really, what are you talking about?

L: Look, J.C., you’re a nice guy. At least I thought you were, but you’ve really gone the absolute limit with this. What’s wrong with this picture?

J: I don’t know.

L: Let’s start slowly. It’s the end of the world, right?

J: Right.

L: And here’s this big rapture thing, taking all the souls up to heaven, right?

J: Right.

L: And as promised, this is taking place thousands of years after you’ve been nailed, right?

J: Right.

L: So don’t you think that it’s just a little bit funny that I’m sitting here? Talking to you? STILL ALIVE?!?

J: [Thinks about it for a second] Oh. Ooooooh…

L: EXACTLY, YOU SANCTIMONIUS DORK! When they said you were supposed to be the son of God they failed to mention you were the slow one! YOU FORGOT TO MAKE IT POSSIBLE FOR ME TO DIE WHEN YOU BROUGHT ME BACK, YOU IDIOT!

J: But, but… I was just trying to help…

L: Help? HELP?!? Like you were trying to help the apostles?!? Do you know what happened after you kicked off? They took that whole “You will be a fisher of men” thing to the next level and opened up a gay bar! When they were martyred, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John’s crucifixes spelled YMCA! Mary Magdalene started up a hair fetish brothel! AND I’VE PAID ALIMONY TO 638 WIVES! Do you have any idea what it’s like to be told “You’ve got cancer,” and realize you’ll have to live with that lump under your armpit FOREVER?!? And how, HOW, I ask you, was it “helping” me when my own relatives put out a bounty on my head to get at my will, a bounty that has persisted for TWELVE GENERATIONS. Every time I visit my relatives I have to bring a mine detector and kevlar vest! YOUUUUUUU SUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!