Lazy as a marmaset's arse

I don't know if that's how you spell marmaset, and I'm too lazy to check. I'm too lazy to write, too. For someone who professes to love writing, I don't actually write that much. I have ideas in my head, developed, ridiculous, readable ideas - but they're staying there where it's safe and warm and no one actually gets to see them.

I want to set up a copywriting business. I have already done the fun bits of designing the website and writing the copy for the (most) of the website. The not so fun bits are yet to be tackled. Finishing the website, trying to drum up business etc.

There are many more winges of the lazy that I could bore you with, but I'll spare you that at least. Maybe one day I will write all those things I thought I'd write, and then you could read them. I've still not written the article of feminism and capitalism I promised you so very long ago (like, 2 years ago!).

You spell it marmoset. I checked it, but it would mean my whole intro would be shot through if I changed it.