Slacker
I haven't written anything for my blog in two weeks. It wasn't intentional, but it seems appropriate, since I had the Most Ineffective Christmas Holidays Ever. Two weeks of drifting, ambling, wandering, ruminating and slacking. I attacked no projects and conceived no grand plans. Each day melted into the next until I had absolutely no idea which day I was in.
Many were the times I said to myself, "Either you can go and vacuum your bedroom, or you can sprawl here on the couch watching bad TV and eating mini Midori cheesecakes," and few were the times that I actually decided to do the former.
If I were a better writer, I could probably craft engaging stories recounting the minutae of my lazy slackitude. But I'm not, so let's just say that I was a fat slovenly bum and leave it at that. Onward into 2008, with the reassuring structure of normal life reimposed. I'm back at work (idling does not pay the mortgage), back on a diet (mini Midori cheesecakes are not featured in the healthy food pyramid, sadly) and back to blogging about the important things in life: MST3K, internet japery and whatever bright, sparkling things momentarily grab my limited attention.
Many were the times I said to myself, "Either you can go and vacuum your bedroom, or you can sprawl here on the couch watching bad TV and eating mini Midori cheesecakes," and few were the times that I actually decided to do the former.
If I were a better writer, I could probably craft engaging stories recounting the minutae of my lazy slackitude. But I'm not, so let's just say that I was a fat slovenly bum and leave it at that. Onward into 2008, with the reassuring structure of normal life reimposed. I'm back at work (idling does not pay the mortgage), back on a diet (mini Midori cheesecakes are not featured in the healthy food pyramid, sadly) and back to blogging about the important things in life: MST3K, internet japery and whatever bright, sparkling things momentarily grab my limited attention.
posted by Blandwagon at 5:26 PM
2 Comments:
Dear Mr. Bland,
Perhaps you will be interested in my holiday entertainment, though I think I have established that you are not.
My goal was to be featured on your blog. Nothing I did had any effect and I am writing really just to complain of your lack of appreaciation.
1. I put on 10 kilos and walked past you eating an icecream and holding a bag of chips.
2. I went to a party I knew you would be at in an outfit that made me look like an unsuccessful P. Hilton clone.
3. I sang off key in a venue near you for forty five minutes.
4. I attempted to murder one of your yuppie friends, but got dragged away by his girlfriend.
5. I rerouted your TV. so all you could watch was videos of my childhood dance lessons.
What more can i do? How can I become so important as to deserve your derision?
Dear Wannabee,
Thank you for taking the time to attempt to get my editorial attention. I'm sorry that your efforts were not successful, and I've decided to give you a few pointers to assist you in your future endeavours:
1. I put on 10 kilos and walked past you eating an icecream and holding a bag of chips.
That was you? I thought I'd just wandered past a mirror.
2. I went to a party I knew you would be at in an outfit that made me look like an unsuccessful P. Hilton clone.
Hey, if you wanted to be noticed, you should have gone to the party dressed as a bottle of Bombay Sapphire.
3. I sang off key in a venue near you for forty five minutes.
I just got kickass new speakers for my computer. I haven't heard anything other than the screech and thud of computer games for the past two weeks.
4. I attempted to murder one of your yuppie friends, but got dragged away by his girlfriend.
I have yuppie friends? Most of my friends struggle with the concept of "shoes", let alone "Armani loafers".
5. I rerouted your TV. so all you could watch was videos of my childhood dance lessons.
I just thought they were running an 'Australia's Funniest Home Videos' marathon.
Yes, I watched some Funniest Home Videos. You don't want to know how low I sank. Trust me. We're talking 'Hannah Montana' depths here.
What more can i do? How can I become so important as to deserve your derision?
Get a Facebook page, drive a Toyota Corolla, set your ringtone to 'Summer of 69' and transmogrify into Ben Cousins. Then buy a painting from here.
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