The Dog Ate My Cre8ivity. Well, Actually It Was a Cartoon Cat.

According to the snOregonian, my friend Bill is a heavy hitter.

And by that, I do not mean that he is drinking the same juice as Jose Canseco.

Bill is a comedy writer. Just like me!

Except Bill actually gets paid to write comedy.

(I did once try to convince Bill that I, too, could be a paid writer of the television comedies, by pitching him my idea for a new series. And by new, I mean blatantly ripped off from an extant series, which is the way of the Hollywood. My show was just like Early Edition, except that—and here is the comic genius of me at work—instead of getting the whole paper in advance, the protagonist just got the Comics section. Look out, Jon! Garfield is going to steal your sandwich! Why Mr. Heavy Hitter didn't swing at that pitch, I cannot imagine.)

Perhaps the whole selling-the-loaf-instead-of-giving-away-the-slice-for-free thing is why Bill, and not MacaroniManiac, was the one asked to speak at the Portland Cre8ive Conference. A conference so cre8ive, letters alone cannot convey its cr8tivity.

Okay, I am going to stop doing that numbers for letters thing now. It is too annoying for words. Or for numerals, for that matter.

Anyway, Bill has spent the past few weeks procrastinating on the TV scripts he should be writing, to instead write his Cre8— er, I mean Creative Conference presentation, which he gave yesterday.

And then (here is the irony, which, as comedy vocationalists and avocationalists alike all know, is one of the great comic devices) this appeared in today's paper (click on the image and it will appear large enough to read):
If only there had been an Early Edition: Comics Section, Bill could have just used the Get Fuzzy strip for his presentation. And used the squirrels for all his other writing projects.

Then he would have had time to hang with me at the TBA festival, about which I will blog anon (as the Shakespeare-typing monkeys would put it, were they writing this blog).