Pretty Packaging, Empty Box

Inspiration takes many forms. Today, for example, it's a mirage.

Perhaps it's the additional pressure now that up to five (!) people are reading this. Can I perform under observation? Has this forum devolved from a creative oasis into a laboratory of introspection and hyper-evaluations? To butcher the cliche once again, "If I write something and no one comments, does it make a sound?"

I've established the discipline of writing regularly. Earlier this morning, I completed my thirtieth chapter about my hair (please, withold all applause and questions until the end of the ride). This entry is #31, a prime number; a number primed for genius? Doubtful. I could again configure a handful of paragraphs discussing nothing - a gimmick I used for years in a PBM game I wrote for - but will that retain my adoring public? How else to keep the sheep?

I'm prudent enough to resist the temptation to discuss my personal circumstances. Too many stalkers and autograph hounds, and once I start trading internet real estate, things could get ugly. My financial situation is off-limits, as are my kids' health, my political views, and my favorite positions. (Left field, you pervert.)

No, this is a flippant, obtuse, off-the-cuff area of observations and non-sequiters, intended to create giggles, smirks, and witty epiphanies.

If I'm ever abducted by aliens...
13 Uses for a Common Housefly...
Things that aren't yellow for good reason...
Step-by-step instructions on constructing an aardvark's genome...
Tastes like sumo...

Nothing. I got scads of nothing. Except a piece of advice someone else probably stated more eloquently than I am:

Remember to rest. It's one thing no one else can do for you.