Quick! Be Creative! Say Something Funny! Now! (No pressure).

I have a weird job.
I write for a living. I guess I could technically say - "I'm a writer."
I'm a writer.
There, I said it.
Or, I wrote it.
But much like, well - everything.... being and becoming something one dreams of being or becoming...it just never happens the way it happens in your dreams.
I have always wanted to be a writer. Dreamed of it.
And here I am.
I write. Every day. And it is published. Every day.
And I am paid for this.
I write - but not necessarily stuff I *want* to write.
I write...
Sell-out-ish stuff.
Commercial stuff.
Corporate stuff.
Trickery. Illusion. La La Land.
Advertisements.
There is a place for it, I guess - commercial writing...
There is money in it. Well, some.
But soul?
Not a whole abundance of that.
Has it sucked my creative juices from me, robbing me of my blogging mojo and rendering me a bore in blogville?
No.
To suggest that would be lazy.
And I am. I am lazy.
Which is why I may have been boring as of late.
While writing about "25 percent off storewide sales" and how it's "never been a better time than now" to buy "said product" isn't exactly me diving into my vast pool of infinite imagination - nor is it dipping both hands into the cool and steady stream of creativity - it DOES keep me thinking.
Thinking...about things I might not normally think of.
I'm getting off topic. Kind of.
I meant to be bitchy and negative, so - on with it!
Business people, for the most part, don't have much imagination when it comes to marketing their product.
This is sad.
This is where I SHOULD be stepping in, to add a unique and quirky flare - something that will stand out. Something that will say "Hey! Look at me everyone! Want some of this? You want a taste? Five dollah sucky sucky!"
Of course - the consumers are supposed to come in droves, flocking to buy Said Product all because of little old me.
But - the people who approve the copy are not that brave. Not that creative. Not that imaginative.
They want the basic who/what/where/when/why.
And THAT can be mind-numbing.
It can be stiffling.
It can make my job...kind of boring. And it can make Said Product sound...well - much the same.
Don't get me wrong - I love what I do.
I love the people I work with.
Essentially, I make a living off of stuff inside my head.
I type it out on paper - tweak it and cap it and shape it into something that vaguely resembles the client's vision...even more vaguely resembles my own...and I release it to the unsuspecting public.
It's a weird job.
Writing for the number one station in my city...and the number one station in another city...and then writing for two other fairly known stations in both cities...well, it's not something the average Joe gets to do.
But never have I been the average Joe, have I?
Thousands and thousands of people hear my work every single day.
That's kind of cool.
What isn't cool - is that it's commercials that no one really listens to.
And that's okay with me.
This blog...is going on 7 years old.
And I never know who I am speaking to. Possibly no one at all.
At one time, when I started - I had a few dedicated readers.
Whether they have faded away into the blurry fog of facebook and twitter and google + - or they just thought: "This fucker is boring as shit," I have no idea.
But I can't see them any more.
Yet here I am.
Talking...well, writing.... at ...you.You.
This collective "you".
I have written with specific people in mind.
People I don't know.
I have written for gays. For girls. For straights.
I have written to myself and I have written for others.
I have written in hopes of impressing and making friends, I have written so people will think I am cool and I have written to infuriate or I have written in the hopes of igniting action.
I still have no clue what this blog is supposed to be, save for a semi-linear autobiography - which is as honest as I let it be, but not really all that revealing at all.
I write. And I speak.
For a living.
I write in containers of 10, 30 and 60 second "spots".
I speak in containers of 20 seconds to a minute and a half.
With a timer on.
And in that time I am told to engage. To inspire. To be creative and funny.
It's so weird when you fuse the technical, the logical, the limited - with what is supposed to be infinite and expressive.
But it can be done.
Or can it?
Is it real?
Is anything I write real?

Is anything anyone writes...real?