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Brainsick
Oddly Demented Prompts
For the Muse-Abandoned Writer
by
Dan Burt
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Sometimes a writer needs a creative kick in the ass. But what if the muse who kicked your ass has hung up her ass-kicking boots and run off with your greasy, cowboy hat-wearing, unemployed, mono-browed neighbor? You know...the one without the neck.
So now your muse is riding him like Debra Winger rode that mechanical bull in Urban Cowboy and there ain't a goddamn thing you can do about it except choke the hell out of the pillow that once cushioned her cheating little head or hug that goosedown close while wearing the red, lacy panties she left behind as you're curled up in a trembling, whimpering pathetic pile of blubbering bilge.
The previous paragraph is proof of what happens when a writer's muse leaves you high and dry. It hurts, my friends, it hurts bad. That's why I've provided the following prompts to help muse-abandoned writers everywhere find a way to escape their uncreative dark place. Go ahead and use them to write that masterpiece and show that muse bitch you don't need her anymore.
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The defending champion is disqualified from the bird call contest
because of reckless and unnecessary use of a sickle.
Though everyone was impressed with Grandma's innovative walker technique, they agreed that she did not help matters with her impromptu striptease.
Just when you think the game is over, along comes the screeching, red thing.
"I could have told you that shifty wombat was trouble."
As a precursor to joining the Republican Party, Katherine pledged solemn devotion to mammon, renounced empathy, and had her cold, small heart painted
a darker shade of black.
Karl circumvented the rules of the company picnic talent contest by dressing
in drag. Despite the rules infraction, he placed third and won the opossum.
Eventually, the contestants on the new and improved Price Is Right became inured with some of the more intrusive aspects of the game that now included
enemas, trepanation, and cannabilism.
The constant, horrific screams upstairs and the blood dripping from the ceiling were not conducive to the friendly, competitive mood Barry was
trying to create in his apartment on Pente game night.
The 103rd annual meeting of the Society of Misanthropes was
held in Las Vegas, and once again, no one attended.
With the situation looking bleak and the air balloon losing elevation,
the decision was made to jettison the children - crying ones first.
Even though the judges deducted ten points because of sophism,
five points for nose-picking, and three points for ass-scratching,
the media still said the president won the debate.
When asked about the significance of death in Milton's Paradise Lost,
Peyton extemporized an emotional answer about mankind's reason for being
and how he really wanted to fuck the redhead in the second row.
The dissonance heard emanating from the band room wasn't the unskillful play
of the freshman ensemble but rather the band director stumbling over
percussive instruments as he boned the trombonist.
Though not a word of the lampoon was untrue, the police chief still didn't like
how he was portrayed as a cross-dressing, pet-fucking, tax-evading miscreant.
Kristin, thinking she knew the lingo of the Maori beauty salon,
asked for an eyebrow pluck but instead received a painful full-face tattoo.
Being a good sport, Toby accepted the chaff that
came with having an atypical anus.
After causing a disturbance in the gay bar, the bilious drunk was apprehended by secret service personnel and taken back to the White House.
The dour situation brightened after Penelope's panties began glowing again.
Harold found himself in the doldrums after agreeing to sell his
wife's mummified remains on eBay for less than the reserve price.
As the air balloon slowly drifted over the convent,
Sister Flanagan was offended by both the Rabelaisian design on the balloon
and the nude pilot urinating over the side.
Sure it defied logic, but Ken continued his efforts to animate cottage cheese.
The jabber of the trees that kept Gloria awake all night
was blamed on the not-so whispering willows.
After he explained the logic behind his vivisection device, we realized the
lead aeronautical engineer had taken the project in a whole new direction.
"That’s funny, it doesn't taste like a normal stain," Wally said,
after licking the conference room carpet.
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Dan Burt lives in Alabama with his wife and two sons. He is the creator of the humor web site www.CaptainCanard.com. Dan enjoys reading, writing, and collecting vintage Canadian beaver pelts. In his spare time, he works for the federal government.
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This edition of American Sideshow is brought to you by....
Larry King's affection for Heather Mills McCartney's fake leg
...he just can't seem to get enough of its rubbery goodness.
