Whadday a mean, Fat?

Well, I made it to the quack's today and as guessed, I have to lose weight - stay off the spuds, and bread. I'm sure he didn't add cheese to the list simply because he didn't think of it. I know he wanted to tell me to drink less alcohol but was stymied by the fact that I barely drink these days as is. How do people live without potato sandwiches?

I have to arrange to get a blood test, too. Meh. I suppose I'd better go this time. By way of unspoken punishment for not popping in to the practice for eight months, the doctor has decided to test me for just about everything. If I don't get it done this time, it will be a recommendation for almost total exsanguination next time, I reckon, so perhaps I better go while we are only talking about giving up the Hancockian arm full. I really hate having holes poked in me. Still, it's a day off work, I suppose.

I think I might splash out on hypnotherapy. "Look into my eyes, not around my eyes, into my eyes. Spuds are horrid and you hate bread. Lettuce is ambrosia from the Gods and carrots are solid angel tears. Look into my eyes, not around my eyes."

What I need is a GM scientist who knows where the money is: stop breeding mice with human ears on their backs and get me a lettuce that tastes like a sirloin steak.

And now I'm tired but I just know that I won't manage to sleep for a while. I'm too full with pizza. Didn't have any spare veggies in the house, see, and it was games night. Tomorrow is quiz night. I'm not looking forward to that, either, even though I shall get to drink a few pints of the stuff I barely touch these days.

It wasn't planned like this, but timing is all. The Karma Pixies do so love their irony. I guess I really ought to buy that exercise bike I promised myself a while back. Or an exercise moped. That would be nice.

Whadday a mean, Fat?

Well, I made it to the quack's today and as guessed, I have to lose weight - stay off the spuds, and bread. I'm sure he didn't add cheese to the list simply because he didn't think of it. I know he wanted to tell me to drink less alcohol but was stymied by the fact that I barely drink these days as is. How do people live without potato sandwiches?

I have to arrange to get a blood test, too. Meh. I suppose I'd better go this time. By way of unspoken punishment for not popping in to the practice for eight months, the doctor has decided to test me for just about everything. If I don't get it done this time, it will be a recommendation for almost total exsanguination next time, I reckon, so perhaps I better go while we are only talking about giving up the Hancockian arm full. I really hate having holes poked in me. Still, it's a day off work, I suppose.

I think I might splash out on hypnotherapy. "Look into my eyes, not around my eyes, into my eyes. Spuds are horrid and you hate bread. Lettuce is ambrosia from the Gods and carrots are solid angel tears. Look into my eyes, not around my eyes."

What I need is a GM scientist who knows where the money is: stop breeding mice with human ears on their backs and get me a lettuce that tastes like a sirloin steak.

And now I'm tired but I just know that I won't manage to sleep for a while. I'm too full with pizza. Didn't have any spare veggies in the house, see, and it was games night. Tomorrow is quiz night. I'm not looking forward to that, either, even though I shall get to drink a few pints of the stuff I barely touch these days.

It wasn't planned like this, but timing is all. The Karma Pixies do so love their irony. I guess I really ought to buy that exercise bike I promised myself a while back. Or an exercise moped. That would be nice.

Blogging

After just under two years and nine months of inactivity, I have tentatively reactivated my old blog where I started out being rude about idiot popinjays and overbearing politicians before it slowly mutated into something less, interspersed with cross posts from my early LJ entries and then finally ground to a halt during my annus horribilis back in Feb 2004.

Well, I've got over that; have done for some time and when I read on the Metro this morning about plans to make drinkers leave their finger prints at the bar every time they buy a pint in a pub or club, I decided it was time that I reopened my safety valve and spent a little time now and again, being rude about those who need it most.

A number of people on my friends list will remember my old blog. If any are interested, I would be happy to give posting access to people who want a rant and blow off steam from time to time, who do not want to sully their LJ with such stuff and who can't be bothered to maintain an alternate blog.

Blogging

After just under two years and nine months of inactivity, I have tentatively reactivated my old blog where I started out being rude about idiot popinjays and overbearing politicians before it slowly mutated into something less, interspersed with cross posts from my early LJ entries and then finally ground to a halt during my annus horribilis back in Feb 2004.

Well, I've got over that; have done for some time and when I read on the Metro this morning about plans to make drinkers leave their finger prints at the bar every time they buy a pint in a pub or club, I decided it was time that I reopened my safety valve and spent a little time now and again, being rude about those who need it most.

A number of people on my friends list will remember my old blog. If any are interested, I would be happy to give posting access to people who want a rant and blow off steam from time to time, who do not want to sully their LJ with such stuff and who can't be bothered to maintain an alternate blog.