So everyday I open my fancy gift journal (I have two: one was a Christmas present from Kim in 2005, the other was a Christmas present from Ron in 2008, and I tend to alternate between them) and I write down the date, and I write down the time, and then I've got nothing. I can't find one single workable thought in my head. I can't even successfully edit something I've written before. I am utterly and unbelievably blank.

All my writers drink whiskey, and all have at least dabbled in the psychedelics. Not all of them everywhere, no, but all of mine. I have my doubts that whiskey is all that inspirational, and by gum, inspiration is what I'm in the market for.