Peter Rogers's Blog
Artist-in-Residence at Chez Firth Thursday (2/26/09) 4:12pm - ... wherein there is Spanish bereft of inspiration.
Welcome to this week's installment of "Spanish for Everyday Situations".
This week's situation: "Oh no! You are suffering from writer's block!"
My toenails could do with a trimming.
Tengo que recortar las uñas de los pies.
I should repeatedly type, "All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy," just to get the juices flowing.
Debo repetidamente tipo "Todo el trabajo y nada de juego hacen de Juan un chico aburrido", sólo para hacer fluir los jugos.
Damn you, blinky cursor -- STOP MOCKING ME!
Maldición, cursor parpadeante -- DEJAR DE BURLARSE DE MÍ!
for missing my deadline: "I was attacked by space pirates."
Número ocho excusa para faltar a mi plazo: "Me fue atacada por piratas espaciales."
I'll bet that David Paich, lead songwriter of Toto, never had these sorts of problems.
Apuesto a que David Paich, compositor principal de Toto, nunca ha tenido este tipo de problemas.
A real writer would have finished this yesterday. In ten minutes. Using only an Underwood typewriter and peyote.
Un verdadero escritor hubiera terminado ayer. En diez minutos. Utilizando sólo una máquina de escribir Underwood y el peyote.
It's kind of sad, how long I can sit and stare at a shiny object.
Es un poco triste, cuánto tiempo me puede sentarse y mirar a un objeto brillante.
Well, that's it. I've used up my lifetime's supply of creativity. Time to become a banker.
Bueno, eso es todo. He usado mi suministro de la creatividad. Tiempo para convertirse en un banquero. Note: As always, these 'translations' are basically just Google Translator output, so corrections are welcome.
...gonna take a lot to drag me away from you...
SO MUCH BETTER than having "eight days a week" stuck in your head, though, for FOUR days of a week. I kept thinking of that episode of (crime show? medical show?) where the guy hears voices in his head and shoves an ice pick into his ear to make them stop and they DID and he survived. But living in Virginia, I haz no ice picks.
I forget which composer it was that started hallucinating musical more-or-less constantly just before he died....
Oh, also: this sort of thing especially sucks for people who have become deaf. (You get the song stuck in your head, and there are *no outside sounds to dislodge it*.)
...wow, i hadn't ever thought of THAT before. that would be all KINDS of crappy.