"... your muscles give up, they wave a little white flag and all of a sudden you're a fat bastard."

[reddragdiva]

ladylilith appreciates the Shiny PVC-Clad Arse, and has expressed her desire to ogle said trousers accompanied by a mesh top. This would certainly fit into my own plans for sxxy deth chykitudinality, not to mention attracting the goths like swarms of nice-booted flies.

Except, of course, for the ten kilograms I have put on since arriving in the UK.

I worked out long ago that the only reason I work for a living is in order to eat the food I really want to, not cheap crap I have no option other than. And, having moved to the Island of Drinkable Beer, that's certainly not leaving the diet. (But nitrokeg and pish lager are OFF the menu.) But, hmm, less simply gratuitous crap.

So. I talk a good game with this exercise lark. But it's time for action.

1. Get some fecking exercise. Half hour minimum at a time, every day I can manage.
2. Do the goddamn situps and stomach crunches. I'm in my mid-thirties, and it's EXERCISE OR EXPAND.
3. Stop eating lard by the ton. This means cut down on the gratuitous goddamn cheese.

The other hope is that the exercise will do something about the asthma attacks. Slight one this afternoon, after ten minutes' walking in two degrees, but it actually cleared after another ten. Get my lungs used to doing more than sitting at a desk or on the tube.

Dinner tonight: a bowl of pasta, a tin of tuna (in brine, not oil), tabasco, soy sauce. No butter, no cheese. 500ml Budvar. Mm-mmm.

(And here's to the inconvenience store next to the tube station. The one that stocks multiple varieties of superlager. Know your customer base! They've taken to stocking the lovely Budvar. Lager that could almost make you believe lager is beer.)

Flem may have stopped, but flemco continues. And he certainly knows how to cure a cold.

Comments

Excersice? Bah humbug.

[lpetersson.livejournal.com]

But you might want to get one of these:
http://www.firebox.com/index.html?dir=firebox&action=product&pid=67

They rock.
Servus,
Mr Eleganza