Back in the saddle again

regrettably, that great and wonderful litterary high I was riding left me somewere on the dirty eastern side of a city with a deplorible reputation. I was writing nonsensical wonderful and radical blithering about all the wonderful things that happens to no one three clicks south of no where, but all that is behind me. For some incalculable and nearly unthinkable reason the petrol in my engine has faded, evaporated, drizzled out of my creative juice tank. Not unlike my love life in years past.

So in efforts to return things to a place where I am exercising my creative muscles and regularly emptying the aforementioned juice tank I need to push myself, I need to start writing AGAIN, regardless of why obstacles are in my way, regardless of my mood. To help, this return to a directed life I have to start sharing my family game stories. Letting all your faithful believers (yes, I'm talking to all three of you) in on the ridiculous adventures of a heracleanly strong viking wizard, an agile sniper elf, a halfling monk who thinks he's an evil orc dragon blooded sorcerer and a older elf who's obsessed with mining.