Laziness is Life's Finest Pleasure

The other day, someone called me the laziest person he had ever met. Really, who’s the lazy person in that situation? I make significant efforts to meet people lazier than me so I can learn from them and make my life that much easier than it is. This is partly why I decided to write this: to help you lead a happier, less productive life.

That, and if I ever get off my ass and head over to the Guardian office, they’re presumably going to give me $20. I was actually over there last week, but they wanted me to wait 10 minutes to get my paycheck. Keep in mind they weren’t paying me to wait 10 minutes, they just wanted me to wait.

If I really wanted to be lazy, I would have looked up lazy in Webster’s and written “”Webster’s dictionary defines the word lazy as …,”” but then I’d actually have to get a dictionary and look up the word. This wonderfully stupid technique was suggested by my 10th grade English teacher as a good introduction to essays.

“”Hamlet”” is a good introduction to essays. Take whatever topic you’re writing on, and relate it to a character in “”Hamlet””. If I were ever to teach a master class in B.S., that would be lesson No. 1.

B.S. is an important skill for any person trying to succeed in being lazy. It’s what separates the run-of-the-mill, white-trash lazy person from the successfully lazy person. White-trash lazy people sit at home and watch television all day. Successfully lazy people sit at home, eat Bon-Bons and watch television on a big screen all day.

The important thing about being lazy is balance. You can’t just sit around and do nothing all day. You have to find that happy medium of doing the minimum amount of work to propagate your lifestyle of doing nothing all day. Let’s start with everyday problems and work our way up to harder ones.

You’re hungry. What do you do? You have a few options. The average lazy person would just order a pizza. But then what? Tomorrow, you’ll be hungry again and you might not have enough money for a pizza. Here is where preparation comes in handy. The secret weapon against hunger is the Ralphs’ Big Buys section. All the things you need are in that aisle.

At the beginning of the year, I purchased paper plates, paper cups, a big box of “”Crystal Cutlery”” and 40 White Castle hamburgers. Whenever I get hungry, I pop one of those burgers in the microwave, hit “”66″” because typing in “”60″” would require me to move my finger, plop it on a paper plate, and eat. If I’m still hungry, I repeat the process.

But take something more difficult, like a 20-page paper. If you’re a girl, you have your work cut out for you. Acquire the syllabus, figure out your professor’s office hours, go to them, and then sleep with your professor. If I were a reasonably attractive heterosexual girl, and I had to choose between a 20-page paper and oral sex, there would be no contest.

And if you’re a guy, you’ve also got your work cut out for you. Acquire the syllabus, figure out your professor’s office hours, go to them, and then sleep with your professor.

No one said being lazy was easy. Most people assume it is, but it really isn’t. It’s a state of mind that you have to work at day by day until you have it down. Still with me?

Try a worst-case scenario: You’ve been caught plagiarizing a 20-page paper and the professor is adamant about you getting expelled. You guessed it, you have to sleep with your professor and the dean of your college. The real difficulty is figuring out the location of the dean’s office and whether a threesome is appropriate.

What if you don’t want to sleep with anyone? How does laziness work for Mormons? Here’s a good alternative to going to class: Find someone who takes good notes. Give her the impression that you will sleep with her and then copy her notes. Suggest that you be “”just friends,”” mention how you’re in the never-been-kissed club and are damn proud of it.

Then, just as your friend is reacting, hop in your Suburban, drive over to Disneyland and jump on a trampoline with your nine siblings.

I would write more, but I’m just about hitting the 800-word minimum … 770 … not quite … 773 … almost there …. 776.

This is a lot like when you’re writing a letter to someone and you have nothing to say, so you start writing larger and then put a big fat “”Sincerely”” at the bottom, followed by an even fatter space for your name.

Oh, look, I’m done.

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