‘Iacta alea est’

Death of a Yak-Shaver

Poots Prevails over Procrastinatory Perfectionism

A lot of yaks are celebrating tonight; the perennial shaving season is finally over. And it’s probably about time, given my balding herd have endured the incessant, vigorous stroke of my razor on their backs for more than a decade.

Ten years means a lot of yaks, and to hasten publication, some of them go unapologetically and unashamedly unshaven. Consider this inaugural post as the Minimum Viable Product (MVP) of the blogosphere—the very least before launch.

For getting to this stage, I have several people to thank; both for lampooning my lethargy and having a pop at my paralysing perfectionism. In no particular order:

So thank you guys, that was a lot more straightforward than I had built it up to be. Starting isn’t the problem anymore… I’ve given myself a whole new herd of yak to shave.

—2359, Sunday 23rd October 2011.