frosty’s guide to procrastination…

As I pondered what words to write for this installment of the glorious and riveting RE:UP Magazine my mind exploded with possibilities. Hmmmmm what ambitious, journalistic undertaking shall I tackle this time around? I could dive deep into my local library’s microfiche collection and spend days tracing the arc of illuminated thought in dark rooms. Unfortunately, my copy of Doorknobs for Dummies was desperately overdue so I knew library action was a bust. I could go undercover as a trance dj in Ibiza and unlock the awesome aphrodisiacal secrets of hair gel, mesh shirts, and laser lights. Alas Spain was too far. I could transcribe barnacle love songs, translate them into pigeon coos, and write a whimsical account of romance between boy and bird. Yuck.

Ideas were everywhere but so was television, bustling bars, walks in the park,, record shopping, girls, skinny dipping, eating cereal, petting puppies, et cetera. They all reached out to me like lonely widows to a necromancer. Who was I to deny them? The minutes turned into hours, days, weeks, and yes, months. Now as I sit here long after the final deadline my mind hums with anxiety and indecision. What shall I jot down? The here and now is all consuming. My psyche shudders yet nary a word does my pen utter. Wait a minute…EUREKA! I’ve had a revelation that’s mise en scène to the max! I will write about this moment, the act of procrastination coming alive. That’s not all. I shall bestow upon future generations the priceless knowledge that is so ingrained in my veins. (note to RE:UP publisher. Please etch this article onto stone tablets.) Like the Anarchist’s Cookbook before it let this be a guiding light for those disenchanted with the heave and ho of society. Dear reader, put that oar down and pick up a potato chip because your life is about to get a whole lot better.

a reading list for lazy lumps:

This is the ..1 distraction on the planet. In our age of hi-speed, “always on” Internet it’s a wonder we get anything done at all. “Hey,” you murmur in the midst of your already overdue doctoral dissertation, “I wonder if I have new e-mail messages awaiting. Oh boy! Here’s one brimming with secrets. What’s that? I can have the world’s longest thickest, oh wait there goes my AIM chime. ding ding ding. I better see who’s a ringing. Oh it’s my cousin Lamela who just messaged me moments ago with a recipe for paperclip pie. I better see what urgent matter she’s addressing now. What’s that Lamela? You just farted? Boy oh boy isn’t technology great! It’s like we’re in the same room but you’re actually in the next one over. Ooooooohhh now I smell the dookie diatribe you’re dealin’”

Everyone knows when you’re procrastinating you don’t read long Russian novels or even short Spanish ones. You read useless words with all with the vigor of a virgin on wedding night. So why not stroll into the bathroom and peruse the enthralling ingredients in toothpaste? Wow, fluoride and Xylitol! Who would ‘a thunk? This one’s even ADA approved. Can you top that?!

your guide to celluloid slumber:

This is the king of all reggae films. It’s fictional but so damn realistic it plays like a dubwise documentary. Burning Spear drummer Leroy “Horsemouth” Wallace stars alongside a cast of musicians who formed the heart and soul of Jamaican roots music. There are some heavy Rastas representing and you know what those rascally Rastafarians love, the ganja! After watching these cats smoke spliffs the size of yule logs you might be tempted to puff one yourself. Hey kids, watch the ambition meter spiral downward. (Note: a Greek dude made Rockers. Greece with its warm breezes, white sand beaches, and aqua waves must have been too frazzling so he skipped over to Jamaica to unwind.)

Director Akira Kurosawa gets the gold ribbon from the Procrastination Filmmaking Foundation. He waited until he was blind to make this masterpiece. Talk about lazy! Still, Dreams is as vibrant as film gets. It’s all surreal landscapes and deep dynamics drifting with a Butoh like pace. Beeyootifull.

Damn Rodney Dangerfield. Isn’t school for teachers and 12 year olds?

music for procrastinating purists

This is the dearly departed Mr. Cage’s loooooooooooooooooong piece. In fact by the time it’s done being played not only you, but your children, their children, and their children13 will be long gone. The composition is meant to be played, as the title states, slowly. Some kooks in Germany decided to stretch the piece over the lifespan of a church organ. They began playing it four years ago but don’t fret, they have 635 more to go. Each note extends for six months so you have plenty of time to grab a snack, sit back, and enjoy the sluggish decay.

If you’ve ever been to Brazil you know how relaxed folks are. If you rush into a police station with a knife in your ribs and the assailant still holding tight you’re lucky to get a slight shrug from the sergeant on duty between bites of feijoada. The esteemed Caetano Veloso is a resident of Bahia. This sun-soaked climate comes through clearly in his music. Joia is all shimmering tremolos, soft croons, and sandy shakers. Put this on if you forgot to fuel up your bumpin’ jeep.

On this one album the Scottish sweethearts have songs entitled: “A Space Boy Dream,” “A Summer Wasting,” “Dirty Dream Number Two,” “Ease Your Feet in the Sea,” “Is it Wicked Not to Care,” “It Could have been a Brilliant Career,” and “Sleep the Clock Around.” These are your theme songs Dr. Lazybones.

She comes in second only to B&S in the slow and low name game with song titles like “Floating in the Clearest Night,” Sweet Rolling,” Bubbles Which on the Water Swim,” and “Everything Lay Still.” She did one-up the Scots on the sloth-o-meter, no lyrics here! Her instrumental gems work magic. This is music to get in the mood for motionless moments. Colleen’s creations are perfectly crafted for purely delightful naptime bliss.

raiding the recycling bin:

Take notes nerds. In a dazzling display of dallying I have recycled some previously penned words for these pages. The following account of my European snoozing previously appeared on I even swiped the title from Jonathan Safran Foer’s novel Everything is Illuminated. I highly suggest reading the Cliff Notes.

FROSTY’S EURO ADVENTURES : manufacturing Z’s

The person who coined the phrase, “You’ll have plenty of time to sleep when you’re dead,” is probably already in the grave.

If you’re a 9-5 worker bee you may want to look away. All others, let’s study some scientific data. Over the past week the earliest I have woken up is 1:30pm. The latest is today at the sparkling hour of 3pm. Some would call this lazy behavior. I call it deep sleep research. Falling asleep (which has been occurring no earlier than 5:30am) with the knowledge that I’ll wake up when I’m ready and no earlier is a fantastic feeling. I personally drift much deeper without the ticking hands of time hovering over my horizontal head. When I do enter the world of the living I’m much more prepared to slay dragons and chop e-mail blocks.

There have been other times in my life when I’ve enjoyed a relaxed schedule. As lads my brother Derelict and I would visit our Dad on summer vacation. Our days were filled with low-pressure living. We would crack our sleep encrusted eyes open to the late afternoon and roll slowly to the living room where our still sideways bodies absorbed hours of Yo! MTV Raps and kung fu flicks. Nothing got in the way of our loose lifestyle except the occasional visit to an amusement park. On those special days we zombie strolled to the car and crashed out until arriving in Goofy Lot Q or Yosemite Sam Orange. College was another period of suspended animation, which you would fully understand if you saw how tightly I hugged my bong.

These days I am comfortable in my subconscious skin. Upon arising I fill my hours with excitement. I stretch, do some sit ups (to counter my heroic beer intake), sip mint tea, watch the Tour de France, take a shower, and stroll to the store only to catch a parade of haggard souls making their way home after a dreary day behind desks. I spend my evenings staying busy and slip under the sheets with the bright morning light. At home I’m more of an early bird but in this foreign setting I’ve decided to loosen the strings. Maybe I’m just staying close to LA time so when I return I’ll be up with the milking of the cows and in bed right at twilight. Or…maybe I’m the laziest son of a gun you’ve ever seen. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

history’s greatest procrastinators:

Sure it took this big wig six days to make the heavens, Earth, plants, animals, people (mind you only two), minerals, vegetables, etc. but how long was he/she building up the steam to make it happen and why with all his/her power did he/she need to chill out on day seven? Oh yeah, what’s the deal with the robes? Throw some slacks on once you hop out of the bath bum butt.

I don’t want to toot my own horn but hey I’m the one with the pencil. Plus who else would be so lazy as to wait until the very last minute to write an article and then write about being lazy? Whoah dude pop some mini-thins and get busy.

This wily little Brit needs a real kick in the ass. He never pays his taxes, he’s always running off to the pub, and his little cabbie cap is pulled so low he’s probably asleep half the day. He was nearly disqualified from the Procrastination Hall of Fame in 1986 due to controversy over the Andy Capp Hot Fries line of snack chips. Naysayers believed he was harboring hidden motivation. After intense investigation it was discovered that Andy merely sold his likeness to a multinational potato chip conglomerate in exchange for a pint. That’s integrity.

frosty’s no dough recipe corner:

If you wait until your pockets run dry to eat don’t distress. There are always resources out there for dimeless diners. Here’s my famous (in Union Pacific boxcars) recipe for HOBO STEW!

(use fancy catsup for romantic occasions)



Any other ingredients to be found for free in fast food joints, truck stops, or hospital cafeterias are a bonus: hot sauce, relish, mustard, Horsey sauce, mayo, honey mustard dressing, etc.

Place an empty tin can (beer cans work too) above fire. Add ketchup. Stir gently for five minutes. Ketchup (now technically stew) will become silky smooth. Add anything else you were able to dig up. Season to taste. Enjoy with a glass of liquid. yum (that’s right, a lowercase yum. You’ll understand why when you taste it). Psyching yourself out does help. Try gazing at a grocery store circular or a menu from a classy restaurant while eating and you’ll never know the difference.


Message to the youth : professional procrastination isn’t worth a hoot without eventual action so don’t just sit there forever. Let that energy build up in you until it bursts, then make something happen.

bye bye,


(these words previously appeared in the royally radical pages of RE:UP Magazine)

This entry was posted in reading.