Hello dear bloggers. As no doubt you have all noticed (seen as I am sure there in facts hundreds of readers of my humble blog, me being of course familiar with the blog success stories of the films; just like in "Julie and Julia", I'm probably famous in some terribly arty circles for my two posts) I have been absent from blogging for a couple of weeks. This is not actually because I've been away, or because I'm so emphatically busy with school and my social life; it's because I'm a lazy shit.
You may be thinking, all hundreds of you, 'Oh, he's just being a bit modest and silly'. This is incorrect as I am genuinly a lazy shitebag. Today, for example, I was supposed to hoover the house, do the dishes and practice my double bass. Just wee things really. I hoovered half the house, and left upstairs to do until after dinner. I also left double bass until after dinner, because I didn't shower until four this afternoon, and I'd already done that hoovering. So, we eat dinner. I don't do the dishes immediately after, I have a wee break and catch up on X-Factor (I missed it last night having out with a friend in Edinburgh). Then I did actually do them fine. But by then it was like seven, and I just felt like I'd done enough so I've agreed to do the hoovering tomorrow. And I haven't practiced double bass because it is actually later and it's so big and has to be packed and un-packed and tuned and the bow roisined - too much effort for a Sunday night.
Now, what the fuck is all that?
Essentially, I've just pissed about and hardly done anything and given rise to a whole new meaning of lazy through the blame of tiredness and over-exertion. But why did I have to do that? They are not hard tasks, at all, and if I'd just done it all, it would've been done relatively quickly.
So why didn't I?
Perhaps I'm seeking some latent thrill of rebellion, not doing what dear Mummy says. Perhaps I'm more adept to periods of higher thinking and I'm merely not destined to do such tasks. Or, perhaps I was involved in a complex moral dilemma that left me working over the bare fibres of principality in order to decide what to make of the situation, and, so consumed was I by this predicament, I just couldn't possibly do anything else.
No.
The answer is this; Elliott Alexander Fulton is a lazy bugger.
There. Having identified such a fatal flaw in my character, I feel like I'm able to really work on it, really come to grips with this personal aspect and try my utter best to avoid it's relentless claws. Totally. So, I'm going to end this scintillating post and go be productive!
Also, X-factor is on, would not want to miss that.
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