There’s a bit of British English slang that this Yank would like to see adopted in The States: faff. As in, “havin’ a faff”, “faffin’ about”, and so on. It’s a delightful way to talk about wasting time, messing around, or a pointless task.
It’s Wednesday. The world is garbage. But you can bless the rains down in Africa for 12 straight minutes if you want to take your mind off things for a while.
I remember, in the folly of my teenage years, trying to create my own catchphrase. I come from the Jersey Shore where, like many coastal towns, you wore surf wear even if you didn’t really surf. Billabong, Quicksilver, Rusty, Ocean Pacific, etc. I was particularly fond of Quicksilver. So fond, in fact, that I would tell more than one person, on more than one occasion, that “Quicksilver is my sauce”. You know, because I wanted to be covered in it? Complemented by it? I dunno. I was already a super nerdy outsider, so I don’t know why I though this would do me any favors.