Sloth Alert! I am one.

They know a sloth when they see one

A glint, a smidgeon, a flash of light in the sky. What was the flaming ball burning bright? Some wise man – well a bloke from the East, Musselburgh to be precise,  told me it was the sun. You sure? I asked Yup he said K that does it.

So I downed tools. If a laptop is a tool for that was what I put down and  since then I have done nothing. Nada. Rien. F*** all. All day.  What is wrong with me? Sloth. Laziness. Unmotivated. Self employment is the curse of the self employed. On some days I am a rabid dog who cannot sleep, I pace, I write, I write some more, I break off to eat obviously and eat lots but I do that subconsciously whilst writing. So the empty wrappers under my chair tell me. Then there are my days of brilliance. I have so many ideas that are going to make me a millionaire I don’t know which one to do first. So I don’t do any.

James Caan coming in behind me to get me out - back off!

 If I went into the Dragon’s Den and they asked me about my business plan I’d say. Couldn’t be arsed to write one. So what are you doing here? Well on a whim, and that’s how long any of  my ideas last, whim length, I thought it would be a great idea to come on and tell you about this great idea I had.

What is it?

Forgot.

Get out.

K but not before I tell you James Caan gives me the creeps. I love Theo, the big tall one, Deborah and I should like Duncan cos he is Scottish but actually I don’t. So (blows massive raspberry) I’m off

Prior to fluff cultivation - looks OK doesn't it?

And just before I leave I would tell Evan the presenter to shave that ridiculous fluff off the top of his head, embrace your baldness fool. It is far more attractive than cultivating that Shredded Wheat up there.

Security!