Oh, hell.

I just finished reading Chuck Klosterman (this one) and my old nemesis has returned: I'm not writing like me I'm writing like the writer I just finished reading. I was all set to get to work on my next thing for readingground and I started writing Untitled Klosterman Essay 42 instead of Untitled Dave McGee Essay 6, Or Whatever Number I'm At But It's Low.

I fucking hate that. Gah.

This is why I stopped reading fiction for a while back there in Aught Five, because I am such a mental-flow-junkie that I just steal unabashedly. Or in this case, totally abashedly. I am fully, 100% abashed. Not sure what to do here, because apparently non-fiction is now verboten as well. Backs of cereal boxes and nothing else, forever?

Hmm. OK.

Step 1: Read David Mitchell. Can't copy him because he's a chameleon. Brilliant.
Step 2: ?
Step 3: This joke is probably overused.