I’m going to get hammered. Literally.

Tomorrow, I am attending the Litquake Litcrawl, which combines my two favourite things in life: the written word and beer. The event, appropriately set in the Mission District, is essentially an open forum for this city’s fantastic writers to share their craft with like-minded, literary dorks while imbibing, letting loose wit and charm. Good times surely await. I am, however, a little tentative because this is truly my first venture into the literary community and I’m unsure of how accommodating the more seasoned writers will be to an unsteady-legged fawn like myself. Here’s to hoping!

Maybe I’ll even find a nice, chesty girl who is impressed by my literary prowess. When I tell her I blog, her intimate undergarments will magically appear in my pocket and I’ll have her swooning with my smooth, caressing words; she’ll be clinging to my arm, begging me to continue the verbal foreplay, as moisture seems imminent. One can only hope.

I truly do wonder how writers are in person. As strange as it seems, I have never met a real life writer, so I don’t know what they are like. I know one can never generalize, but writers are stereotypically introverted, isolated, quiet, brooding creatures. J.D. Salinger and Thomas Pynchon come to mind. How would J.D. Salinger and Thomas Pynchon act in a social atmosphere? Would they blossom socially in relief from the isolation they’ve endured for so long, tired of the work basement with its single light bulb and musty odour, or would they wither and quietly resent being away from their comfortable shell of a writing desk? Are writers like other artists, boisterous and proud of their writing, taking every opportunity to mention (off hand, of course) their latest published works and associated critical acclaim.

I suspect that writers are just like me, and there is in fact no need to be hesitant to meet these people. The added perspective will do some good.

Sexpigeon, one of my favourite and entirely irrelevant bloggers, will be there. The anticipation is eating me up like an orally ingested vial of battery acid.


3 thoughts on “I’m going to get hammered. Literally.

  1. Is a large chest required to get a whisper of this verbal foreplay? Your second paragraph left me slightly hot and mildly bothered. I will certainly scan the skies tonight for a shooting star to wish for my little ones to mature into the ample bosom you seek.

  2. Well, I can not claim to be particularly chesty, and my undergarments remained where they ought to be, but I do like your blog – and I did enjoy out time together at LitCrawl!

  3. Both your respective bosoms are just perfect. No enhancements – artificial, miraculous, or otherwise – are required.

    Thanks for joining, Anita, although your presence certainly dispelled any illusions of a lonely, struggling writer. To quote Arj Barker in Flight of the Conchords: “Chicks are attracted to lonely guys. It’s a psychological analogy.”

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