Wherein Our Young Procrastinator Tries His Hand At Chronicling


Our young procrastinator spawns on a little piece of land. A sea stretches out as far as the eye can see, not a hint of shore on any side. Well this is a monumental suck, decides the young procrastinator, displaying a dazzling array of vocabulary, and a not-so-dazzling command over sentence structure. His attention is suddenly drawn to the sea, which appears to be behaving oddly. Almost as if it weren’t made of…

“Really?” He can’t keep the disgust out of his voice, “A sea of words? What, the hooded robe and gem-studded walking staff were taken?”



Our young procrastinator pauses for a moment to reflect on the advantages of the billowing robe that now adorned him. Ah, that breeze did feel so much better now. … … …

“Where the bloody hell did my pants go? SONOFA-”

This was definitely not the auspicious start to his chronicling efforts that our dear procrastinator had envisioned. But things could only get better from here on. Just as soon as he got his hands on some blasted pants….


Let the great (not really) experiment begin.


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