I sometimes wonder if I'm at the end of my creativity. Like this is the end of my new jokes, sketches and the like. Because I will sit in front of the computer and there is nothing that wants to come out. I'm left with loathing and doubt in my abilities. Sure, I can make people laugh in real life, but getting that stuff on paper is tough. It seems like it's supposed to be natural for comedians to come up with this stuff. I know it takes these guys a while, too. But I mean since Mr. Chapel, I seem to have hit the bottom of the creativity barrel (cocaine supply) and I don't know how I can fix it. Whenever I watch something I have to try very hard for it to not enter my creative realm, because I will want to copy it. It's terrible.
If only there was a way to be more creative. Like a brain enlarger machine. No that's lame. Come on! You lousy Daveface.
You'll see my creativity reflected in this blog. If I don't write anything for a while. Then it means I'm out of ideas and then when I have something that is mildly funny, I will waste it and the lousy internet. It's like a vaccuum to consume the left side of my brain. That's the creative side, right? My right side of the brain has not been developped enough to know if that's right. Or left.
Perhaps the answer to my quandry lies right in front of me. Something that has eluded me for sometime, yet is the clear solution to this problem. A box of wine and a half used up box of bandaids. Maybe I could make a children's show about Winey and Bandaidity the Bandaid Box. Ah, what the crap?!