Archive for June, 2012

People often ask, ‘what’s your biggest vice?’ expecting a reply of ‘chocolate’ or ‘cheese’ but the unfortunate answer is quite simply; ‘food.’

I love food, all food, anything and everything I can get my grubby mitts on. I can eat till I can’t move and then promptly eat some more. It’s an addiction, it always has been and I often end up hating myself for it. I eat when I’m unhappy and I’m unhappy when I eat. I’m not partciularly unhealthy during the daytime but after a meal full of steamed, green veggies, Ill then have an entire bar of chocolate followed by a yoghurt, followed by a bag of popcorn, followed by some cheese, followed by a spoonful of jam, followed by whatever else I can find lurking in the cupboard. I simply can’t stop; there’s definately a fat kid inside me desperately trying to get out. I have no idea what it stems from (I’m not aware of any childhood traumas or bad relationships which may have caused this disgusting behaviour) I think it’s just sheer gluttony and the fear that I may never see food again. I’ve been through every fad diet, lost and re-gained weight countless times but never stuck to anything for longer than two weeks. Unfortunately I don’t think I’m alone in this endless cycle of misery so I’m going to do something about it, once and for all.

Believe it or not (and please hold the gasps of horror until the end) I have taken my inspiration from Jodie Marsh (UK Z-list celebrity whose entire claim to fame is falling out of clubs with virtually no clothes on.) Love her or hate her, she has shown real determination, stamina and will-power in her latest quest of becoming a body-builder. Agreed, she has a team of nutritionists and personal trainers to help guide her every step of the way, but she is the one lifting those weights and eating 19 egg whites and copious amounts brown rice every 2 hours. That is not something that can be forced and you must admit, she looks incredible. Now, I’m not aiming for a body-building competition anytime soon but I would like to loose weight, tone up and find those abs which I know are in there somewhere (*prods belly*) so I’ve bitten that damn bullet and joined the gym.

Working with a friend of mine to find some sort of structure to my workouts and planning what (not) to eat, I’m getting there slowly but surely. I have come to the conclusion that if I’m going to continue to enjoy life and therefore eat what I want (within reason) then I must work it off, it’s not rocket science, but in order to keep myself motivated, I’m setting up a diary on my progess. So, here goes;

If anyone has any tips or guidance, please feel free to share with me, I need all the help/motivation/guidance I can get! Please excuse the terrible photographs!


At the start. 1st June 2012


24th June 2012

27th June

Image courtesy of Google Images

Once upon a time (not too long ago and in a land quite close to here) a kind and chivalrous young man (yes, there are still a few remaining) offered to help a middle-aged and somewhat rotund woman heave her numerous suitcases down a large flight of stairs at Waterloo Station.

Despite the sweating, struggling and repeated trips up and down the steps in order to help this random stranger he received not a word of thanks; not even an appreciative smile; not even a relieved glace in his general direction; nothing. So, true to his stubborn nature and in defiance of all bad manners and ungrateful human beings everywhere, our hero promptly picked up the now thoroughly bored bags, lugged them back up the steps to their original position and stomped off in the opposite direction leaving the ungrateful bint luggage-less, her chin resting on her boots. Feel free to applaud at this juncture.

I’m sure we have all experienced similar situations which make our blood bubble to boiling point. How often does one experience the huffing and tutting of someone standing in a queue waiting to be served a cup of coffee? The noises which eminate from their lips and the steam which bursts forth from their ears would imply that the ignorant barista is serving other customers (how dare he) and therefore holding up the queue simply to annoy them. Obviously this snorting creature is far more important than anyone else in the room and the fact that they are already late is, of course, the fault of everyone else. Unfortunately, my experience dictates that once the frothy goodness has been served, not a word of thanks is offered, not a smile is given but the cup is snatched, the heels are turned upon and they stalk from the cafe without a backwards glance.

When boarding a train or tube during the heaving, weekday rush hour, it appears to be a practical impossibility to allow passengers to step from the carriage onto the platform before a mass of impatient travellers begin barging their way past them, elbowing each other out of the way, clobbering their opponent with luggage and glaring daggers of death in the direction of anyone who dares fill their space or take their chosen seat.

WHAT is going on, dear people? What has happened to courtesy, decency and manners? Are we all in such a hurry to get home to our television sets that we simply can NOT wait another 2 minutes for another, emptier train to appear? Are we really so selfish that offering a little ‘thank you,’ muttering a ‘please’ or even a grateful smile is too much like hard work? Gone are the days when gentlemen gave up their seats for ladies, now they wont even remove their buttocks to ease the sore ankles of a pregnant damsel. It appears that human beings are treating each other with disdain, disgust and contemptment.

Please do not let this continue, dear reader, we still have time to turn this dasterdly situation around. We are all equal; our status is not defined by our job title or the figures in our bank accounts, we are not above or below anyone else. Let us remember what our mothers tried so in vain to teach us; ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ are still magic words.


Now Im all for new fashions and experiementing with different styles but this confuses me no end. These young boys who are desperate to be ‘cool’ and ‘street’ (oh dear god, I am turning into my mother) swagger about with their one-legged limps, wearing the newest trainers, the most expensive baseball caps but with their jeans hanging on for dear life and their buttocks exposed to the nation. Despite the fact that these bottoms are sometimes extremely peachy and therefore temptingly squeezable, one would prefer actual clothing rather than just a thin layer of boxer short between the general public and bums ahoy!

Historically this ‘fashion’ used to symbolise a ‘come on’ between male prisoners, a sort of ‘open for business’ code if you like. I have yet to inform these young chaps of this fact.

The confusion, however, lies within the physics of this situation. How is it actually possible that these garments remain at the precise crease where the buttock becomes thigh? As far as I am aware, trousers were designed to sit above the buttock or at the waist in order that they do not rapidly descend floor-wards thereby exposing ones undergarments. Yet somehow these young men have surpassed the laws of physics and stuck two fingers up at the general trouser design virtually in its entirety. Perhaps these chaps should be rewarded for their ingenuity. Perhaps they should be rewarded with a free pub lunch….provided of course they can run to said pub without falling over. Heh.

Yes, I realise, as I hammer furiously at my keyboard, that my street credit will zoom down 50 points (not that it was ever up) and that my mental age will hobble up to approximately 90 years old but Im beyond caring. The ‘LOL’ers of ‘LOL’ington have once again set my teeth on edge.

For the love of all things good and holy, what on EARTH has happened to the English language? It would be wonderful if all and sundry spoke the Queens English (Long Live Her Madge) but I realise this is fairly optimistic. Im not expecting the youth of today to begin spouting a spot of Shakespeare to enquire whether their contemporaries ‘would liketh a carriage to the discoteque this eve of summer?’ However, I am one of these old souls who enjoys the sumptuousness of the English language and would appreciate the roundness of words, their fullness and exquisate formations to be used in their entirety.

For those clever people who have managed to avoid this criminal activity, ‘Lol’ is an abbreviation for ‘laugh out loud’ which, in my youth would have simply been referred to as ‘laughing.’ How times have changed. I personally wouldnt describe my mirth at a situation as ‘Loud Smiling’ but I suppose its only a matter of time.

I often wonder which imbecile decided that ‘Lol’ was a good turn of phrase. It also begs the question whether some people burst forth with a ‘Lol’ in spoken word. Whatever happened to a good ‘ha ha’ or an equally apt ‘ho ho?’ This rant is not limited to ‘Lol’ however, it also extends to ‘rofl,’ ‘lmao’ and other equally annoying abbreviations. Who ARE these people? When presented with an amusing situation, do they actually exclaim ‘ oh roff-el’ or ‘oh that was so funny, I lam-ao’d?’ I jolly well hope not.

My only hope is that someone, somewhere is going to halt this madness before it continues and therefore grows. If it were left to me, I’d spend the rest of my days bashing the youth of this generation over the head with the Oxford English Dictionary in the hope of knocking some grammar into them. I shall be handing out extra copies of this great book for boshing purposes should anyone wish to join.