Master P

I am Masteh P.
Master of Procrastination.
I have to translate 15 pages (ok, I already did one, 14 pages ) of gruesome legalese from Hungarian into English and I just have no desire to do so.
Instead, I want to write another novel and a couple of poems.
Does this make me into a bad person?
Spank me for being bad, then.
I went to see the Salvador Dhali exhibition at the Palace of Exhibits because I refused to pay 50 cents to the bitchy fat attendant woman for the privilege of using her filthy public bathroom and instead I just paid the 9 dollar exhibit admission fee.
Does THIS make me into a base person?
Random shoe fetish aside: This girl (hot if you like them blonde with big boobs) who was also visiting the exhibit wore the coolest shoes I have ever seen on a woman. I seriously considered asking her where she got them from but (1) I don't wear women's shoes (2) there would have been no way for me to appear I did not. They were incredibly pointy with a medium heel, and the point was curving UP, kind of like a completely wicked jester's shoe meets some slick black leather pumps. They HAD to be Italian.
I am Sooooo Goooood at procrastination.
Say it after me:
"Soooo Goooood at procrastination."
"Soooo easy. Just don't do anything. Soooooo Goooood."