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Writer’s Block

Updated: Jul 2, 2020

I haven’t written a blog for a little while now, and I guess that’s because I’ve felt like I haven’t really had much to say. Maybe I’ve said everything I can now. Maybe I should call it a day. Or maybe I just need to focus more on actually writing about things that matter, rather than constantly relying on self-loathing and references to celebrities that haven’t been in the public consciousness since about 2005.

These are not the thoughts of social outcast Steve Brookstein, former winner of the X Factor. No, these are the thoughts of Eric Rushton, reigning champion of being ugly and pathetic.

This writer’s block paranoia finally came to a head a few days ago.

I was in the kitchen, just minding my own business, reading a letter from the doctor’s that was addressed to a previous tenant called Jason. I was about to take a bite out of a sausage roll, when I noticed out the corner and also the rest of my left eye* that my friend Joe had entered the room.  There was something wrong, I could sense it, and suddenly Joe started approaching me with eyes that said “we need to talk” and a t-shirt that said “I am McLovin”.

“Eric, we need to talk,” he said.

(Called it, I thought to myself.)

“What is it Joe?” I asked, pretending I didn’t know what the issue was. But in reality, I knew exactly what Joe wanted to talk about. Like Jason’s test results – I was positive.

“It’s your blog,” Joe replied, a bit too loudly for how not-deaf we both were. “You haven’t written anything for weeks, what’s happened, people are talking mate.”

“About me?”

“No, about ‘I, Daniel Blake’ mainly. But you could be writing something funny about that. Listen mate, you need to start putting hand to pen and pen to paper because at the moment you’re letting yourself down, and above all you’re letting me down. No, I mean above all you’re letting yourself down. But also me. Anyway, what do you have to say for yourself?”

I took a moment to calm myself and take a bite out of my sausage roll.

“Listen,” I said calmly, “the reason I haven’t written anything is because maybe..”

Suddenly I paused. Not because I couldn’t think of how to finish the sentence – I had an expertly constructed joke about Steve Brookstein and self-loathing that was about to send Joe into hysterics – but because as I bit into my sausage roll I realised that in fact what I thought was a sausage roll was actually a CHEESE AND ONION ROLL.

“ALWAYS READ THE PACKAGING!” My mum screamed down the phone.

“Cheers,” I said, ending the impromptu phone call and my mum’s brief cameo.

I was devastated. World –upside down. Dreams – shattered. Taste buds – surprisingly satisfied.

Warming to the idea of being a man with a cheese and onion roll, I took another bite. However, to my amazement, this next bite was somewhat sausage-y.

What was happening?!

Confused, I took yet another bite – cheesy. Next bite – sausage. Bite after that– cheese.

The roll was shape shifting before my very eyes. One minute, I have a mouth full of sausage, the next I’m stuck in a cheese-induced nightmare of logical impossibility. I couldn’t believe what I was experiencing –the absurdity of it somehow seemed to encapsulate the chaos of the world we live in. It was inspirational. I felt I could write again – I had a new sense of purpose!

Quickly, I darted out of the kitchen and up to my room. I was ready to use my experience and turn it into classic Rushton comedy gold.

“You never finished your answer,” Joe cried after me.

“You never finished life, mate.” I shouted back, not really making sense, but it didn’t matter because I was ready to write some well funny comedy.

Anyway, I got to my room and I couldn’t think of any jokes to write. I spent four hours listening to old FIFA songs on youtube instead.

That’s about it.

Cya x.

*My right eye was closed because I thought a lack of depth perception might make my sausage roll seem bigger and I wanted to feel like I’d done well for myself.


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- he's very poor, so any amount is greatly appreciated.

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