They say that writers’ block can be beaten by just typing anything.
I am writing, or rather I am typing [for the more pedantic reader] and sweet fuck all is coming out.
I think I’ll go and do a spot of gardening instead.
There’s a bush outside the door here that badly needs cutting back. I was told to cut it back when it stops flowering but the fucking thing flowers all year round,so I suppose now is as good a time as any.
And seeing as I have the hedge cutters out, I might even trim the old beard.
At least that isn’t flowering at the moment.
Talk amongst yourselves.