Genie: “You have one wish left.”
The writer thought about it for a few minutes. He looked around the bar. He had already messed up twice and didn’t want to screw up this third wish. Finally, he said, “I want to forget my writer’s block.”
“Is that your wish?”
“Yes, I wish to forget my writer’s block.”
The genie disappeared in a puff of smoke. The writer paid his bill and left the bar, happy to know that he would now be able to write again, once he remembered where he lived.
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