Whiskey dick.

And, my almost-famous patent-pending 7-second rule for conquering life's demons.  How to overcome whiskey dick and writer's block. Writer's block isn't all that dissimilar to a bad case of whiskey dick after a hard night of drinking. You and your partner have to leave your pride at the door, you have to fail a few times, you have to muster up an awkward laugh or two. But eventually, if you keep at it, the two of you will stumble upon a beautiful breakthrough: hot, inebriated lovemaking at 2 a.m. followed by a pizza or a bowl of Lucky Charms or maybe even round two. And, in the rare cases when these failures lead to more failures, you're going to get your ass to bed and try again in the morning... AFTER you make love to her orally because you're a team player and you're not going to pout just because your coach didn't put you into the game. This is writer's block and this is how you overcome writer's block: You write your way through it. You write your way through it. You write your way through it. And, if this still results in handfuls of shit, you get up, dust yourself off, down a beer and try again in the morning. Another way to avoid writer's block, [besides letting me teach you how to write]( is to begin writing before you give yourself time to psych yourself out. I recommend the same methodology when approaching the opposite sex in a bar or a coffee shop or a book store. You have to walk up and say something before you have the chance to realize you're walking up and saying something... because the moment you make this realization you're ruined, you're fucked, you're up shit creek without a paddle, sobbing hysterically in a tiny little raft deflating right before your eyes. I've coined this methodology the seven-second rule (and please take this rule with a grain of salt because I'm notoriously miserable at approaching women due to both shyness and a Rolodex of OCDs longer than a Kardashian Christmas list). But, let's pretend for a moment I am Marlon Brando and not an insecure [writer and poet]( with a reasonable following that can lazily rely on women reaching out to him virtually on [Instagram]( (which almost always leads to nothing and leaves me feeling lonely and makes it quite difficult to hold down any sort of longterm relationship as I wrestle with this wonderful yet toxic attention and debate whether it's worth hiring a social media manager so I don't risk a half a dozen divorces). Anyway, so I am Marlon Brando (and remember this story is completely hypothetical and didn't actually happen - ha) and I see this beautiful gal at a Spanish bar in Chicago's Logan Square neighborhood. She has tattoos that she wears like Coco wore Chanel and I can't keep my eyes off of them and her and the way she exists so naturally and easily in the world, like some beautiful jungle cat that is fully aware she is at the top of the food chain. I look at her. I begin counting... 1... should I... 2... Jesus look at her... 3... I have to say something... 4... are those butterflies or fucking dragons in my stomach... 5... fuck... 6... okay, I'm going... 7. I reach out my hand. She takes it. And, I don't let it go for the rest of the night. This is the seven-second rule. It applies to everything. Overcoming writer's block. Approaching the opposite sex (pre-COVID). Having an uncomfortable conversation. Speaking your mind. Jumping off a cliff into a great body of water. Taking that first step to start chasing down your dreams. Breathing life into that whiskey dick. Start before you realize you can fail and if you fail, start again, and if you keep failing, try again tomorrow. But, I digress. By [Cole Schafer](. P.S. I can't believe I just sent a newsletter to eleven thousand marketers, entrepreneurs and writers about whiskey dick. But, to be completely honest, I just don't give a fuck. [This might help with that writer's block too.]( Did someone forward this to you? If they did, it means you're probably not subscribed, which you can change in a matter of seconds by hitting the pretty black button down below that reads "Subscribe". It's really that easy. Can you believe it's that easy? What a time to be alive. [Subscribe.]( [Forward.]( [Forward.]( [Share.]( [Share.]( [Tweet.]( [Tweet.]( [Post.]( [Post.]( Copyright © 2020 Honey Copy, All rights reserved. A while back you opted into a weekly email called "Sticky Notes". Remember? If not, you can always unsubscribe below... and risk breaking this writer's heart. Our mailing address is: Honey Copy 3116 N. Central Park Unit #1Chicago, IL 60618 [Add us to your address book]( Want to change how you receive these emails? You can [update your preferences]( or [unsubscribe from this list](.