And I don’t have to worry about writing titles anymore. Or having periods at the end of them. Or how long they are.
January 23rd, 2007 by Dusty
Well, I finally made a decision. I’m not going to write at AI for a while. Yes, tens of people were mildly disappointed, bordering on actually giving a shit.
Here’s the thing. I know I can be a relatively amusing storyteller when the mood strikes. The problem is, the mood doesn’t necessarily strike every six days. I liken it to being porn star. You have to “perform” when the camera is rolling, and some people just can’t hack it. The other, less porny side of the coin is that I actually enjoy putting thought into a story now and then (when I’m not wackily getting my scrotum caught in the ceiling fan) even if it isn’t funny. I actually think that the lack of having written anything personal has gradually affected my ability to write entertaining…ly. So now I suck.
Will I stop writing? Hell no. That would be like not being able to come up with a simile, and seriously, fuck that. I’m going to write when and what I want for a while. I have found a couple of promising young chaps who can handily fill my shoes at AI, and I will be giving everyone a tasty sample of their wordsmithery in the coming weeks. Trust me, these cats are good. One guy has a boyband called 4skin and wrote a hit called Circumcise My Love. It’s been years since I was that funny.
I have been thinking about this a lot lately. Spending lots of time and brain power contemplating a non-job that doesn’t even support my porn habit. Of course, it is more than that. I love doing this as much as I love drawing, fishing, or snorting coke off of hookers’ asses. That is why it actually scared me to think that I may have stopped being funny. Like it was a stage I grew out of or something.
Really. Last night I was up walking around at 3:30 am, coughing (which is something I do now that the bronchitis is going away), and in the absence of almost any sensory stimulus, my mind took over with this panicky thought of “dude. You’re old now. Your time has passed. You can’t be funny anymore because you have a mortgage and the word “Director” on your business card. It’s all reports and tax write-offs and carefully planned decisions from now until you die of hypertension before you ever get a chance to see a live woman naked. That’s just how it goes, man. As your sense of humor dies, you’ll begin forwarding stupid email jokes to people who grow to hate you for doing so, and you’ll suckle television shows like “the war at home” and “grounded for life” for whatever dessicated slivers of humor they may hold. Soon enough, you’ll discreetly rent a blue collar comedy DVD and close the blinds…”
Have you ever seen a show where someone pounds the heels of their hands against their temples to make the voices stop? That show was on at 3:30 am in my bedroom, starring me. What kind of shitty mind do I have that would suggest that I am headed for Blue Collar Comedy viewership? Can I fire an organ? Because my brain just showed some severe disloyalty.
It’s not as if it is a surprise that when you take a life in which you have nothing to do but be amused by stuff, and then add a girlfriend that you are going to move in with, new responsibilities at a couple of businesses you are trying to help get off the ground, a business of your own, buying a new house, selling the old one, starting a nine to five job as if you don’t have enough to keep you busy, learning an entirely new discipline for said job, and the sheer joy that comes with keeping it all moving from week to week, something will suffer. That was all one sentence, bitches.
But I’m not going to blame all of the other stuff. I still laugh more than anyone you know, and I am excited to get out of bed every morning I am lucky enough to do so. I’ve always had a lot of stuff going on at any given time. What changed was the therapy I used to (unknowingly) get out of writing recreationally. Sometimes I want to write about something that made me sad. Sometimes it’s something that pissed me off, and sometimes (as now) it is just to fricking ramble until I feel like I am finished rambling.
At the same time, I know I also need to get my brain right. I shudder to think of how much great material I missed out on because I got mad when something comically unfortunate happened to me instead of considering how hilarious that whole scene really was. What a crime to let that stuff go unlaughed at.
I’ll try not to let it happen again.
I will be reading, wherever you are are writing…I mean, assuming that it is available for public consumption.
That’s the problem with blogging…it starts out as you just being randomly funny, and then you get some readers (granted, you have way more than I do, but still, people start sending me e-mails asking if I’m alive when I’m slacking) and all of a sudden, you don’t feel like your random thoughts are quite “good enough” anymore, that you don’t have the spark anymore…and it would be even harder to have to do it on a schedule and actually feel like it’s worth a paycheck. (And that was one sentence, bitches.)
Seriously…write what you want to write, and if people don’t like it…well, fuck them and fuck their shit.
I’ll fuck them, but I’m not going to fuck their shit. Sicko.
Yeah boy howdy - “quality over quantity” is my watchword(s) (huh?). Just like most porn, most blogs are predictable boring shit with a cliché for a moneyshot. O what cruel muse , what capricious fate strikes us with the “blog boner”… Just let it flow, daddy-o.
You’re still my ‘go to’ blog smut, Dusty. Y’know…the one that is beloved, worn and sticky. That was my ‘high’ praise, by the way. So take it and like it.
It could be worse. You could have moved to Beaufort SC for your job. I mean, there are trees here, some water on occasion, and roads, but this place really sucks. Take all the nightlife out of Atlanta, except for about 5 places, all at least 30 to 45 minutes away from each other. Now increase your rent or payments, add in the military and this is what I call home?
Dusty, you’re great and all that, but why are all the google ads “Buy prosthetics online,” “Dating for the Disabled,” and “Meet differently abled singles online?”
Grandpa always said the greatest gift a person can have is the ability to laugh at himself. Or herself, as the case may be. I fell down the whopping two steps down into my den and as I lay there, whimpering over my the knee that I landed on I immediately thought of you. I mean, if I had nuts I’d totally whack them on something.
You’re a funny old person..
:-)
First off—Beaufort is great, give it some time. Saltus, anyone?
Second off, as a proud owner of 3 original Dusties…..
You ARE funny, you will ALWAYS be funny.
Just ask Devastating Dave, the Turntable Slave
Yawn (stretch, scratch nuts) been asleep for awhile. Did I miss anything?
OK, I’m going to jump on the ass-kissing, morale-raising bandwagon here, because sometimes (and, yes Dusty, this is one of those times) it truly is deserved.
You redefined what it meant to me for someone to be funny, because reading your blogs made me realize how original and creative you have to be in order to come up with “getting fired for laughing too loud at work” humor. When I meet new people, I introduce myself by saying, “Hi, I’m Meredith. Are you familiar with Dusty’s Top 10 Album Covers?” There simply isn’t enough of that caliber of humor in this world. Just about everything is rehashed, cliched, recycled crap. So major kudos to you for having the originality, creativity, and cojones (OK, and the bizarre bad luck) to consistently come up with some of the funniest writing out there.
And even bigger kudos for recognizing when it’s time to take stock of a situation when something you find true enjoyment in starts to feel off; and then actually doing something about it.
Hey, now that you’re actually paying for the blog, you can write what you want. Personally, I’d like to hear more about your cat. So I hope you want to write more about the cat, because that would be cool.
And the ads I got were for menopause symptoms and funny clean jokes.
In all of the breadth and expanse of the internet this is the only blog I read.
Why? Because a good “laugh so hard it draws the attention of your kids who can’t otherwise be bothered to give you the time of day then you can’t explain why it’s so funny because you can’t catch your breath or stop weeping” is sometimes (who am I kidding — often) better than sex.
I’d much rather read funny when the mood strikes you than read mildly amusing on a weekly basis.
You just keep doing what floats your boat. We love you, Dusty!
Cee
Thanks for the top quality creative writing. You are one truly funny American. Extremely Enjoyable. I won’t go as far to say you have been better than Sex for me–but perhaps you have come close…
Do what you gotta do, Dust. We support you. And what could be better than getting more boiled-down salami/pork, even if it’s less than once a week? Trust me. I checked back daily during the Pork Tornado drought of December ‘06. We’re going nowhere.
Keep on rockin!
You should have a challenge every week for readers to submit ideas that you can write about. That or bake muffins.
You need to click on the word ‘muffins’ in the above post. Seriously.
You mean you’re not here for our entertainment? Screw you blogman!
Oddly, I’ve been having this same problem on one of my blogs. I addressed it in a memo, but I’ll ask you if you think using the word monkeyfucker three times was overkill…
Whatever you do, do NOT click on the word “muffin”. Now THAT is not funny. It does however provide a nice contrast to the work of the Dust-o-matic here who is in fact funny. But trust me, if you click on “muffin” you will be angry about the lost 2:20 of your life.
Yay!
Just do what you want Dusty man. I’ll keep reading until you stop writing.
welcome back. it’s been so cold without you near.
Remember years ago when you did the top 10 worst albums?
Remember the cover with the group of naked men?
The guy in the middle is now a US senator.
It’s in the NYTimes.
I thought you’d appreciate that.
good work dusty.
Welcome back! This is the Dusty that has been MIA. I look forward to anything that you post.
HeidiQ, what’s the link for the article?
Glad to have you back in the real blog world. My entire circle of “blog friends” dropped off the face of the map in your absence. Hopefully your return will bring some of them back.
Like it or not, you are the tie that binds in UN-Diaryland.
Just the chance to see the word “Fucktard” in writing again brings a tear of joy to my eye. Welcome back!
Love hearing your thoughts any old way we can get them. Still one of the best reads on line. Missed you, Dusty.
Love that you’ve got a new site, but how about a easy link to the Top Ten Worst Album Covers? The standard link I used to send out to new friends now redirects to your most recent post on salamitsunami.com
Kisses,
I love you. I read about the corndog-o-rama and the spider induced junk punch about two years ago. i haven’t stopped laughing since. incidentally, it was the porkish influence that has helped me to find the comedy in my own life. especially when my fucktard exhusband left. hysterical!
thanks, mr. tsunami. welcome home.
This decision makes some of us very happy. Why, you ask. Because I could not log on to AI from work, work all day on a computer and don’t feel like logging on at home. Now, I can get my weekly (or whatever) dose of Dusty…
Dammit…at least I’m not the one having that discussion in my head. Of course, I was never funny to begin with so it’s more of a moot point than anything. Secondly, the pull of the Incredipete Tractor Beam is pulling at me. I”m going to have to pony up.
Welcome back dickhead.
Jesus, Whine much? I kid because I care. Ok I don’t really care that much but every since you ditched me in SF I feel a longing to read your insane rantings and the blathering of a true Idiot Savant. Preach on Pork Pistol and hail all that is right in your world.
Dusty, you’re my f_cking blogging hero.
In a related story, if you figure out that whole “fire your brain” thing, pass the info along.
Cheers,
K.
Well at least you still remember how to write a simile.
Where the hell have you been? I should ground your little ass for disappearing !!! now get back to work with that big sense of humor we all love ……
Yes, and how queezie? your cat
NoGoodDaddy, COME TO THE DARK SIDE…
I had the same issue with my blog, except I was only funny once by accident and no one ever reads it and I am a terrible writer.
Some people would say “How is that in any way similar?” but they’re the same people that always ask why I’m not wearing pants.