Morbid times for the P-Dog.

When a loved one departs from this Earth and ascends to the white clouds, you find yourself a little short on things related to the funny. I encountered such a block over the past few weeks due to the passing of my beloved grandfather. All you need to know about him was simply this; he was a loving, giving family man who cooked the meanest omelet. That's it. One of my pillars of inspiration he was. And I know what you're all thinking - I have his wide smile and defined handsomeness.

Family gatherings are also pretty great - it emboldens every individual towards positivity. I even managed to reflect upon how I've yet to move forward, career-wise. Forget the unemployment, unfinished scripts and half-complete comedic zingers - I'm still trying to "find myself". As every budding artiste is. I do feel a bit more in line with my humour, because the other day I told someone I was developing my craft and writing a screenplay (when they asked what I did with myself post-uni), and they nodded and laughed, without giving a second to take in my very real speech. Something about 'writing as a vehicle to achieve prosperity' that tickles the average folk. So there you have it.

My quasi-appreciation for art = hilarious.