i roll out of bed with the working men
this friday morning
the coffee shoppe hotty is surprised
even more so when i head to the back room
"i've got work to do"
i say

the words fail to choke me

so here i sit

'working'

it all depends on how loose your definition of work is i guess
in the fantasy world i increasingly inhabit this is what passes for work
my job is to keep the the kittens away from the gumdrops
"bad kitty, shoo!'

maybe a shitty job would be good for my spirit
give me something to actively hate
a focus
mabe im onto something with my environmentally conscious sloth
my laziness might infuriate you but its good for the environment
my inaction is part of a larger entropic plan
my permanent siesta
my PSM
permanent siesta movement
the male form of PMS
where highly developed males rationalize sitting on their big fat asses
bean there, done that
time for a nap
take back the pillows!