Writers cloak and dagger, in leu of block.

I don’t have writers blocks, its just that the words die in my head, I have writers cloak and dagger, and if any blocks are involved there being thrown by that psycho, derailing my trains of thought and logic before they have a chance to turn into anything worth speaking of, and like a lot of things in life the only way round this problem is to tire the cunt out, throw as many trains of thought at him as possible, till he falls asleep, then get his dagger and slash the fucker’s throat, you just have to remember to bury the corpse good and proper, cos you might end up tripping over it. Well that went from the sublime to the ridiculous, but both parts are true, as far as it goes.