There once was a priest from the West

who often caused quite an unrest.

He spawned many upsets

with his violent tourette's.

His sermons faced constant detest.

These Definitions have been brought to you by Ashley's Divergent Dictionary 

Noun: A sturdy cube designed for one to perch upon and write. Use of cube is obligatory.      

Example: The young girl was violently thumped with a ruler by her teacher; as she had neglected to compose her in-class essay whilst roosting atop her Writer's Block. 

Aggressive noun: A tiny wooden block owned by the current literary laureate; that is discretely catapulted at the head of their competition with the intention of inflicting enough damage to land them an extended hospital visit--lest they be replaced.     

Example: The current laureate, American Songwriter Bob Dylan, inconspicuously hurled his writer's block thuggishly across the stage of the "Nobel Prize in Literature" Award Ceremony in hopes of avoiding being replaced.

Verb: A force field utilized by famous authors' to deter being harassed by fans and amateur writers; this shield is commonly mistaken for pompous arrogance and condescension. 

Example: The newest bestselling author Martha Adams was strutting down the isle of her local convenient store when she was approached by a young fan seeking an autograph. Having had already been stopped four times in the past three hours, Martha activated her Writer's block by hawking a massive loogie onto the shoes of the individual in front of her, then proceeded to sashay away with her nose stuck straight up in the air.

Verb: A condition of not being able to think of what to write. This state of mind can sometimes cause the writer to come up with weird bullshit to fill up the void. 

Example: Peggy Sue was drafting a Star Trek themed script for her newly found job as a pornographic screenwriter, when she was suddenly hit with intense Writer's block that would last for seven years. Being forced to retire early, Peggy Sue got demoted to a fluffer. 

We are gathered here today to mourn the loss of something near and dear to each and every one of us. I must admit that I feel at fault for this particular misfortune, much as you have been at fault at some point in your life. And it saddens me to see something so precious wasted away—like the hopes and dreams of that of a small and sickly child. Alas, I am not here to conjure feelings of guilt—nor do I wish to bring grief and despair unto you. I am here today to honor and cherish something that we have all lost at some time throughout the course of our lives. This hurts me so deeply because it is not the only time I have experienced this type of loss, just as I am sure it will not be your only encounter either. The worst part about it is that I notice it affecting me more and more and I can do nothing about it. Every evening while I lie in bed reflecting upon my day before falling into a sleep-induced coma, I cannot help but to mourn the repercussions that this loss provokes within my life. I feel it the most when I am idly sitting around the house watching television. I feel it at times when I am at at work engaging in small talk with a patron. I especially feel it after having spent hours absorbed in social media or playing games on my phone. I’ve sat amongst friends or coworkers listening to them ramble on about current events or gossip, and I cannot help but to be struck with this feeling of sadness as the remembrance of this specific loss sinks in around me. I feel as if a piece of my life has been taken away. And It kills me to know that I cannot get back what I have lost—no matter how hard I may try. But what hurts me the most, is that I see it reaching out and touching you, even if you are not yet aware of the weight that entails this terrible loss. And I can’t help but to feel responsible for its current presence in your life. So I would like to take a moment of silence to once again pay our respects to this mutual demise that we share. One that hits both you and I with a shared potency and force. May our knowledge of its disappearance and waste make us in the end better people. It fills me with regret and I speak with a heavy heart when I say that I am sorry for your loss—one in which I cannot give to you back. Let us pay our respects, to the death of the past two minutes of your life. May they rest in peace. They have been wasted and will surely be missed. And please keep in mind “That when you kill time, remember that it has no resurrection.”

I stumbled down the narrow street

i'd had a few too many

my foot got caught and down i went

like a wishing fountain penny

just then a man reached out to me

and held me up and steady

he had kind amber eyes and hair

that looked like cooked spaghetti

he turned to me and flashed a smile

he said his name was Eddie

thats when i saw his arms and chest

were as hairy as a yeti