Your Star

So.

Once again, I am wasting my time blogging about absolutely nothing, instead of doing the multitude of things I should be doing. Liiiiiike... tidying my room. Or doing the three Maths papers I have failed to even start. Or perhaps that nice Geoggers paper that Mrs. Sutton so kindly threw at us last lesson. And a multitude of other papers which I know I am not going to do. Simply because I am far too busy doing... nothing. I don't know how I manage it, but I seem to spend a large amount of my day doing absolutely, completelyand utterly nothing. Nada. Zilch. Zero. Squat. Nihil. NOTHING. I think it is quite a skill. Hey, if there was a GCSE in nothing, I'd be sure to get an A*. I mean, I practise enough. I revise doing nothing enough - there should be some kind of reward for such prolific nothingness. Maybe a trophy. Or perhaps a hug from Brad Pitt. Yeh man, that would do. In fact, an incentive like that would incite me to do even more nothing. But wait. If doing nothing becomes like doing something, then maybe I won't want to do nothing anymore. Nothing will become a chore, so I'll try to avoid it by doing something. So, basically, what I'm saying is, if Brad Pitt hugs me, I'll do my work.

Wow, my logic is fantastic.