Thingy

Sometimes your mind just goes ... thingy ... whatd'yam'callit ... blank.

Sometimes you just don't give a ...

I had a phase ... long working hours (bout 70 hours a week), death of a close friend ... where I honestly just couldn't give a ... comes out yet bottom, stinky and messy ... you know!

I'm picking myself up, slowly but surely, and starting to face up to the reality that an unwritten blog is never read.

So ... brave soul that I am ... I'm back!

Be patient with me though because I'm a little rusty.

OK ... So when I'm out and about I see things. And yesterday was no exception.

As I escorted a client to the cafe for the artery hardening meal of his choice, we passed ... and ogled ... a gaggle of spherically challenged ladies, all of whom were armed to the teeth with fat dribbling burgers.

Immediately something I shared on Facebook came to mind ...

   Thin women think they are chubby.
   Chubby women think they're fat.
   Fat women think they've got to wear leggings!

Yes! They were all crammed into black leggings that were smaller than their bulk required, thus displaying to all and sundry the colour ... and on one or two, the design ... of their pants!

With seams screaming for mercy, they waddled their way through Canton (a district of Cardiff) to equal measures of delight and disgust from other pedestrians.

I am assured by friends and colleagues that this is a world wide phenomena. Leggings, like hamburgers and fries, are attracted to fat people!

By the way ... did I mention that I list 24 pounds in weight?

The picture was taken when I was out terrorising the general public

Weight Gain

So I went to the doctor last week.

I was concerned about my alarming gain in weight.

Sh was also concerned, but to my mind not as concerned as she ought to be.

"We'll run a few tests and have an answer to your problem in no time" she said.  "We'll take some blood but, in the mean time, you can give me a pee sample in this bottle. But take it mid-steam, ok?"

"But the nearest stream is miles away" I said. "And it's cold!"

She gave me a slap!

A week later she called me back for the test results.

"Not good news, I'm afraid" she said after I'd sat down.

My mind raced through a list of all the deadly conditions and ailments that could mean my end.

A solemn expression came over her face.

"I'm afraid you have an over active ..."

"Thyroid?"

"... knife and fork!"

She muttered something about time wasting, handed me a diet sheet and sent me on my way!

She just doesn't understand 'man' troubles!

Listen To The F-Word

I can hear it!

Can you?

Listen!

A most definite reverberation ... a hum ... a grumble ... filtering through to my ears.

Give it a chance ... wait!

Got it?

It's almost hidden by the background static of our daily smattering of audio-smog.

Can you hear it now?

Yes!  It's the constant muttering of the post-Christmas survivors as they begin to assess the 'damage' of the festivities and the volume is rising as they all begin to make the same horrific discovery.

As they tear at their hair, they are all muttering one word ... the "F"-word.

People all over the globe are saying it right now and, if you are patient and can wait until their frustrations begins to bubble, you will also hear them saying the "D"-word, closely followed by the "C"-word and variety of other choice words too.

Hands up all those who don't know what I'm going on about?

Wow!  So many!

OK, hears the explanation.

F-word = Fat
D-word = Diet
C-word = Calories

How many pounds have you gained?  Are you a 'mutterer'?

Now is the time to formulate your New Year's resolution so, if you need it, try and squeeze in one that includes the "D"-word.

I will, but I know it won't work because of my chocolate addiction!

Biscuits: A re-post

(Prompted by the re-emergence of my tummy-tum-tum)

I am having a bit of a 'moment'!

I have two packets of shortbread fingers in the cupboard and I  can hear them calling to me ... I really can!

The cries of 'eat us' can be heard very clearly and it's driving me nuts!  I have to lose a pound or two and knowing how desperate they are to be eaten makes it very hard for me ... come to think of it, ALL food is making it hard!

From my first waking moments, as my consciousness is still desperately trying to negotiate the myriad neural pathways of my brain, the lightning fast command to find something to eat will already have winged it's way throughout my system to be answered by my rumbling stomach and it's demand for satisfaction.

This craving for constant nourishment of the unhealthy variety only seems to occur ONLY on those days I find myself at home.  When I'm out and about working, I don't feel hungry and certainly don't think about food, healthy or otherwise.  Isn't that funny?

Anyway, those shortbreads have had it!!!