The epicurean folly

I am procrastinating.

Not your every day run-of-the-mill “oh I’ll do it in a little while” type procrastination. But severe “fuck off you steaming great twat, i’m not going to start until the second that I really absolutely have to” procrastination. Serious and professional calculated dalliance, the likes of which have not been seen since biblical times.

I have a project to complete.

It contains phrases like “signal phasing including pedestrian movements” and “During a peak period, determine over 5 cycles for each approach” Which could be construed in terrible ways were they to be taken out of context and considered while near to words such as “poo” and “menstruation”.

I’m doing what any well meaning but self destructive student would be doing in this time of stress and hardship.

I’m getting drunk.

It’s not that I find the subject matter difficult. Were I to actually get off my sorry arse and start, I could collect all data required within a few hours and write the report in another couple of hours. But that really isn’t the point. It’s really the principle of the thing. The principle of The Last Minute, which states; “Thou shalt not start thy assignment until thy really, really, really bloody must.”

So far it is working well for me. I have successfully achieved absolutely nothing today. Even though before I started drinking I was resigned to making at least some progress. It seems that I have paid the mandatory lip service to the impending assignment and may once more forget about it until a day or two before it is due. Such is the way of the studdent.

One could argue that it would be bettter just to get it out of the way now. BUT, and it’s a big but, why borther? It doesn’t have to be done for another couple of weeks. Why do now what you can much, much faaster later on? I contest that there wuold be any difference in grade, as do I cnotest that the quality would suffer graetly. It is amazing what can be produecd under the pressure of time.

The alcohol however can influence things quite a lot. For example, right now I am having images of a righteous bukkake hellfire rained down upon mankind in immense sacred globules of flaminf sulphur and jism, massive burning meteroric comets of retribution for its flagrant disregard for its own welfare. Kind of like celestial AIDS. However were I to include any portion of this perverse imagery within my assignment I woulsd surely fail due to its complete irrelevance to life, let alone its irrelevance to the engineering of traffic systems.

I digress. Which I’m fairly sure is necessary within articles such as these, and indeed have a need for digression, for example are you aware that there are issues of great import such as tsunamis and the consumption of heinous last resort beverages such as tawny port. Oh when one gets desperate enough to crack out the port does one know that one is in serious alcoholical difficulties. I Digress. I er, yes.

What if the world were run by lemurs? There’d be little nasty bitey lemur bastards jumping all over the place usurping territories and governance of crown land and whatnot and making covetous glances towards our dearest aunties and generally having a much better time than us. No lemurs thank you, we’re British. Odd wrinkly lemurs in frilly dresses riding in horse drawn carriagesd in possetion of Lemur culture which probab;y involves throiwing far less dung and obnly masturbating in front of family andf friends.

I wonder how muich lemurs casn dirnk? I ouht tro find one anmd chjallgne it oti a dioenlm



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