Something’s wrong with me! Call 9 – 1 – 1!
Stay away – I’m contagious! Don’t get close or you’ll get it, too. I have an awful disease. No, not that. No, not that either. It’s much worse. I can’t even bear to say the words:
I have BLAG!
I’m doomed. I’m stumped. I’m kerfuffle d and schnarked and zoinked; all rolled up into one jumbled mess of misfiring motor neurons. I have the worst thing imaginable for a blogger, Blag, Blag, Blag: blogger lag. Shoot me now before it’s too late – before it invades your brain, too.
How did this happen? I was a good boy. I ate all my vegetables (except Lima beans) and I went to bed early: 2:00 am. I brushed my teeth five times a day and before and during every meal. I didn’t fib more than five or six dozen times a day. So why am I being punished?
I can feel it taking over. It’s horrible. It feels like I used up all the words in my head and now there are none left. Look! There they go, one by one: schnauzer, schnitzel, snot…
Oh, no, there go the “S’s” – I am almost through the alphabet. Pretty soon I’ll have to make up new words. But what good does that do to have words and nothing to write about?
This is beyond sad. It’s altogether tallindortable. Whew – good thing I still had that word left.
I have to go now. I will be hiding in my corner with my pen and pad and Fritos, trying to cling to every last word before it’s too late. Please send supplies soon. I hear angels signing and they are off key.
If you don’t hear from me again, let me just say that it has been a pleasure being your friend. The whole experience has been wullaflowinty! Thank you so much!