It’s Time… Pt21

Written by Prim on 02/09/2022

But it’s gonna be… Procrastinated

‘Wait for it, wait for it, wait for it…. wait… wait..
William Prescott at the Battle of Wolf Hill

xxxx (fill in later)

Procrastination has me marveled, one: by its spelling and the semi full sprawl required on the keyboard and two: well we’ll get to that in due course eh, along with other tantalizing clichés.

Why do today what you can put off till tomorrow… there’s one. Mantra or affirmation (are you keeping up?) is a state of mind designed to either pull your finger out or stick it on it.

Google just told me procrastination can restrict your potential and undermine your career. Wahoo, I have a career! While affirmation is a positive statement designed to dissuade both the dilly and the dally. There, I’m glad we got that cleared up.

Harry’s Herpes Hemlock Healer: Clears everything fast. Try it today!

Strike while the iron is hot (Nurse). They did through variable sectors of the British work force this week; from rail to post to law to waste to phones. The world and his wife and their cross dressing parrot who identifies as a cabbage while doing the watusi are all at it or not as the case may be – strike, strike, strike, such an assertive word for not doing it. The world’s upside down I say.

I live on lists. Lists upon lists. Give me your list, I’ll add it to the list. Things to do. Each item drawn to the next list until it’s done and unlisted. Yes that can wait. Wait, wait, what? Missed that deadline, bugger. Wait, wait, wait. Deadline, crikey, I have that piece on mimosa pudica to write by midnight… wait… wait, oh yes, beautiful plumage…

Cherry finally got to the vet. It’s a shame, we liked him, but he would mess with Cherry’s ears.

VET ASSISTANT: Dr, Mrs. Culprit is on the phone asking if she can get Harry’s Herpes Hemlock Healer for her neighbor Joyce?… Dr?… Dr…?

PRIM: Um, he just popped out the back, said we should settle up with you. We’re all finished here.

The steroids have made her hungrier, thirstier and sniffier. On walks, every blade of grass now needs to be checked. Every sod of earth a reminder perhaps of that buried bone of the old lady on the plane in the first episode, or maybe the old lady complaining about the heat, maybe the scouse postie wanting to bring back coal. The list is endless.

It’s taken me 4 weeks to read last Sunday’s paper (pick the bones outta dat!) and I’m still not finished. Nurse, nurse, more black pudding now, I have a piece on the laziness of youth to read about.

Autumn is procrastinating I see. Summer’s balmy weather lingering like an Indian swallow. Gad its hot Caruthers, pass the morphine sulphate, there’s a good chap. Mind you, morning’s freshness doth cometh and getting to the time for flip-flop insulation. ‘And Cherry, don’t spare the toe nails.’

Durban’s Bread is finally aired on Amazon in its kindle, paperback and audio form. Now a mere 6-odd weeks later I should get round to directly advertise that link, instead of a mention here. PDF and audio version are still available direct from little ol’ me… where I get the full whack!

The price of living maybe curing the world’s over-population problem, but if someone could lend NASA a couple quid to fuel their rocket we might be able to inhabit the moon quicker.

Talking of rockets, I delivered near an air base the other day, I say near, the houses are perched at the end of the runway. At precisely 15:30 from Freckleton a couple F-15 Fighters took off, so close above us I could see the pilots chewing gum. The noise was like hell itself roaring off to war.

Right, that’s enough, I can’t sit around here all day solving the world’s problems I’ve got some serious humming and hawing to do.

… finish that script on Mimosa pudica, post a warble on social media about Durban’s Bread being on Amazon, talk to Phil about a caravan, unstick the Black Jack’s from the Rhubarb and Custard’s in the sweetie bag…