It’s Wednesday here so guess what…

No not that, a limerick. The picture in the header gives it away really. Let’s do some more ‘Get Well Soon’ ones.

 

Oh alas you poor dear heard it’s bad

and the pain’s quite intense and you’re sad

still a lesson you learned

when you pee’d and it burned

next time use protection you daft lad

And yet another limerick. Who’d have thought eh?

Happy Tuesday!

A Fat fellow of girth quite unique

out of breath when he walked, couldn’t speak

So he cut down on Lard

trained incredibly hard

Fell down dead, heart attack, in first week.

 

What?  You thought it would have a happy ending? Ha!

 

Dieting. 7.

A new dawn?

So either I have absolutely no will power or I am possessed by a rather hungry demon who insists on eating crisps for breakfast and considers a slack handful of sausages and a coke a mid day snack.

I last wrote about dieting in December and I felt pretty motivated back then.  I still feel pretty motivated now to be honest, but I think it is important to not confuse motivation for actions.  I am motivated to do many things but that does not mean I act.  It took me thirty years to take up writing so stopping eating squirty cream from the can is not going to happen overnight.  Saying that overnight is normally when the squirty cream action takes place.

Today though I have woken up with a new motivation.  Mostly I have spent the morning lingering in bed or writing and as it came to lunch time I realised that I had not yet eaten so I figured that probably technically counts as abeing on a diet so yes, the diet is back on.

I have definitely put on weight since I last wrote, I can feel it in the way my clothes fit me even less than they did previously and I can feel it in the way I move.  Not a lot, but enough to tell me that at my age, and given that I spend a lot of my time at a desk, this weight loss lark is only going to get trickier and trickier as I get older.  I imagine having bacon sandwiches every Friday doesn’t help either, but mostly It’s probably down to age and metabolism.

Not the Chinese takeaway I had last night.  Definitely not that.

I love food so not eating is not an option, and having dabbled with dieting forever I think I am going to do my best to stick to Slimming World.  There are eggs, lean bacon and chopped tomatoes in the kitchen which I think I shall make.  I know its not as good as bran or some such but god have you eaten bran?  I’d rather die a bulbous monstrosity who has to wash himself with a rag on a stick than force that down my gullet.  I once took too large a spoon full of the stuff when I was trying to eat more of it to prevent myself dying from bowel cancer, something that kills a lot of men in my family, and it  actually made me gag so difficult was it to chew.  Like a proper eye watering “take it all” kind of gag.

No thanks.

I’ll let you know how it goes.

 

 

 

 

Dieting. 6.

really not my fault

Ok so it hasn’t been great over the Christmas period, I will start with that.  I would add though that it was nowhere near as bad as it could have been and I have most definitely not gorged anywhere near as I have done in previous years.

There was no starter at Christmas dinner, only one pudding (shock horror right) and there’s a quite magnificent stollen covered in cherries and almonds that has lasted nearly the entire Christmas week!

A real indicator of a victory, albeit a small one, was that I didn’t even have a selection box for breakfast when we were opening gifts.  That’s a bit of a tradition in our house you see.

Nonetheless it was something and over the last week we have all most definitely eaten a lot less.  There remain piles of all manner of things that will likely go unconsumed and I am going to take that and get back to trying even harder.

Once I’ve finished that trifle though because it’s so damned good…

Dieting. 5.

really not my fault

Just a quick update as I am rather full of meat and my eyes are slowly closing.

We took the kids to a comedy club thingamajig tonight as it is my eldest boys birthday next week, and they took a couple of friends with them.  The evening was pleasant enough, and afterwards we thought we would take them all for dinner to TGI Fridays.

I was convinced that I was in a good place upon entering, and despite the kids all ordering ribs, which I am rather partial to, I asked for the duck salad.  Duck salad right!  That is actually a thing.  Salad.  With Duck.  Whatever next.

Anyway, so there I am feeling great about the choice I just made, when the waitress heads back over.  They are all out of Duck Salad.

I do wonder whether they ever actually had any you know.  It really does not sound like something you should be making.  Salad with duck.  I think it is on there as a joke and they are convinced that nobody will ever take it seriously enough to order it.

I don’t really know how it happened, I think maybe I felt pressured into a quick decision as she was stood waiting for my  revised order, but I just blurted out ribs and before I know it I am licking Jack Daniels sauce from my fingers and picking succulent pig from my teeth.

I had done rather well all day up to that point too.

Oh well, tomorrow is another day.  Sleep well, I certainly will.

P.S. I ate the chips too.

 

Dieting. 4.

A piece in which I mention sweaty bottoms quite a lot.

So yesterday was somewhat more difficult given that I had a full day work event followed by Christmas Dinner and drinks.  But, I came away not completely disappointed in myself – quite surprisingly.

I did not indulge in any of the huge pile of biscuits and chocolates that were available on arrival which I thought was a real victory given that in the past I would have been the one that opened them and got stuck in first.

I cannot say the same of big fat Simon though, he rumbled into the room, reached across the table exposing his hairy arse crack, proclaimed “Ooh biscuits” and tucked in.  Perhaps that’s the key to appetite suppression.  Every time you’re tempted to eat squirty cream straight from the can you have to look at a picture of a large man’s hairy toilet equipment.

At lunchtime I ate only the same as a normal person, avoiding the cream cakes and sticking to a couple of sandwiches and the treat of a frightfully small piece flap jack for pudding.  I did get a queer look from a couple of people when I was spotted eating a fruit kebab thing and a couple of carrot sticks and some hummus.  Rather than admitting to being on a diet I explained that I was saving myself for the Christmas dinner later on.

All I really wanted to do was smash cream buns into my face in the toilet where no one could judge me.

Dinner was ordered months ago so there was not much I could do and I had a lovely pumpkin soup starter.  I seem to have then ordered a burger followed by Christmas pudding.  I remembered some of the encouragement I have received on here and decided to not eat the chips (fries).  This would have worked had they cleared the table sooner, but they took a while so by the time they did I had eaten half.  But not eating half is something I would never have done before.  I would have eaten all of mine and then coveted other peoples chips.  Pretty sure the bible has strong views on such things.  As good as I felt about it I could think of nothing else when I got home and had real regret over not eating them.

So all in all a way better day than I had expected.

This afternoon I am thinking of popping to the hypnotist to see whether they can help me get the image of big Simon’s dirty parts out of my head.

Have a good weekend!

Dieting. 3.

Let’s give it another go eh

Okay so I’m going to double up on the posts on this to get caught up so I can post daily on the matter if I so choose.

2 days in and the worse thing I have put into my mouth was a cheeky spoonful of that chicken pie I wrote about last time which my eldest had for his tea.  That’s not bad because a lot of you have done a damn site worse.

Yes you.  You know who you are.  Don’t make me add a winky face to make my point.

There have been natural yogurts, salads, omelettes and all manner of things that seemed in a relatively unprocessed form.  Novel I know.  I even resisted the work Christmas Dinner in the canteen today and had a salad box instead.

The salad itself was fine and I felt fairly full afterwards.  I was though really confused about something called QUINOA.

What the bloody hell is that.  As if couscous isn’t bad enough with its bland offensiveness they went and slipped this stuff in there.  I thought it looked okay, and hoped perhaps it might be a little spicy.  It wasn’t.

Four hours later I am still finding bits of it in my mouth and in my clothes as I was forced to try spit it out and got it all over myself.  What the hell is it?  It managed to absorb all the moisture in my mouth and left me really rather parched indeed.

I’m assuming none of you have eaten it as you all seem quite happy types.

Anyway, it was just a quickie tonight.  I think I am going to bed – I need to hydrate and get my strength up because it is the official Christmas Dinner tomorrow and I am assured there is no quinoa on the menu.

x

 

Dieting. 2.

Let’s give it another go eh

Okay, so I posted about my intentions with regards to weight loss and one day in it went okay.  I had more fruit than I normally would, I had a chicken Caesar wrap for lunch and for dinner pilchards on toast.   There was plenty of water and I had a small bag of nuts and seeds because I apparently need to get more good cholesterol in me.

So that’s all very positive.  I will admit though I so wanted to eat that delicious looking chicken pie sat looking at me whenever I open the fridge.  It just screams “eat me you fat bastard, ram me into your hungry hole right now and to hell with your high blood pressure because you know I am going to taste so damned good.”

Pies are awful creatures they really are.  I was once set upon by two sausage and tomato pies and a Cornish pasty and it took all my efforts to fight them off and devour them (all in self-defence I might add).

Aah good times.

Oh and how hard I had to resist buying a trifle when I popped to the shops.  If I had bought it I know for a fact that I would have found myself eating it wearing only my underpants stood in front of the fridge at 3am, waking with a custard moustache and wondered why I wasn’t in the mood for breakfast.

Custard moustache…ha.  Sounds like a sex act.

“Yeah man I took her back to my place and she gave me a custard moustache…”

Anyway, the struggle is real trust me.

But I didn’t, instead I did the things I know I need to do and have also started today with porridge.  I sexed it up with a few raisins and a sprinkling of coconut.  Rock and roll baby!

Wonder if I can now get into those jeans I haven’t been able to squeeze into for years.  It has been an entire day after all.

Dieting. 1.

Let’s give it another go eh

So it turns out that after posting about dieting here and here I did very little about the matter.   There were a few apples and some lighter lunchtime options enjoyed at work when I set out but there were also loose handfuls of quality street chocolates and overflowing plates of pie and mash washed down with mince pies and stollen.

Sadly it turns out a salad on a Tuesday will not in any way make up for a McDonalds Big Tasty on a Wednesday.  And yes, I went large.

In some ways that is almost enough to convert me from my atheist ways.  Only a force of pure evil would make a mouth watering burger total 1300 calories and a light ham salad with a splash of vinaigrette a mere 250.  If such evil exists then surely there is a balance of goodness out there somewhere.

Anyway I am thinking that if I write about it a little more then perhaps that will make me feel somewhat more accountable.   Or maybe a lot more.  I know you will all be frightfully encouraging too.

So keep an eye out for how it goes, might be fun.

F is for Fat

Oh F, such possibilities I see in you.

So I have written about being fat a few times, and whilst I fully intended to do so again I think I shall not and instead ponder a few other F’s – of which there are many.

I could write of friends or Facebook of fanatics or fighting.  I could perhaps turn my attentions to females or feuds or concern myself mostly with fantastical tales or the pursuit of faith but I shall do none of those things.

Neither will I give much thought to frogs or furniture, of which I have previously written, and I shall most certainly not write of finances or fiscal matters of any description.

No, I shall merely allow myself the luxury of consider all of the things I could do and choose to do none because it is bed time, and I have spent over ten hours in meetings today and am well and truly fucked.

Tomorrow, G is for Granville.

Some Saturday night limericks

A couple of limericks about adultery, one about a man with a small penis and one about middle aged spread.

 

Just a couple more limericks.  Been rather tied up back end of this week and I went to the pub last night so all I have managed over the last few days are the limericks I scribble in my notebook when I am on a conference call of some description at work…

 

A bank robber from Toremelinos

stole to get cash for his penis

to enlarge was his wish

but the products are pish

now he’s locked up in jail with men, heinous

 

‘My Friend’ watches far too much telly

middle aged, double chins and round belly

legs and arms got quite thick

now he can’t see his dick

and his man boobs they jiggle like jelly

 

A husband one day proclaimed dead

seems his wife shot him right through the head

on his phone saw a text

“Banged your sister, you’re next!”

really made quite a mess of the bed

 

Farmers wife with a craving for men

got caught cheating again and again

hub quite angry threw fits

then he chopped her to bits

fed her parts to the pigs in his pen

On still being fat

A piece on being made up of one quarter Kentucky fried chicken and three quarters middle aged dad.

I wrote here, some while ago, on the matter of being fat and being on a diet.  That didn’t last though because I have a real love of all things delicious and a self destructive streak that simply will not listen no matter how tight my trousers may be or how jiggly my man bosoms.

I did though do something I have been putting off for a while and go for a full medical check up recently.  The sort you pay a lot for and they issue you with a terrifying report afterwards which has charts in it that prove that you’re lucky to be alive and that you are made up of one quarter Kentucky Fried Chicken.  Probably my thighs.  They are quite succulent.

So, it was with some trepidation that I headed to Leeds and signed in, nervous about what was to follow but relieved in a way that I had done something positive.  I am getting on after all, I am 46 this year.

Now I don’t smoke, and drink only occasionally, but I don’t eat well at all and get far too little exercise.  By too little I mean pretty much none –  unless you count running back upstairs from the kitchen late at night because the blinds are up and the neighbours can probably see me eating handfuls of wafer thin ham straight from the fridge in my pants.

They ran a full battery of tests on all of my major bits and pieces, took blood and other bodily fluids to pore over and even tested my hearing.  I’m a bit deaf on the wife side apparently.

There was a not wholly unpleasant episode involving lubricant and the snap of a rubber glove which men of a particular age are subjected to and the caress of an educated hand to ensure that all was ship shape in the underpants department.

How did it work out?

Well turns out It could have been a lot worse though I hope very much it was the kick up my full bottom that I needed.  Almost everything came back better than I hoped though I apparently need to eat more nuts, oily fish and avocado.  Easy enough I guess.  The two areas for concern were my weight (which I did not need to pay someone £300 to tell me – I do have a mirror) and my blood pressure.  They’re obviously linked but it did result in me having to go on medication as it was worryingly high.

I felt rather chastened I will admit,

So what now?  Well a few weeks in on the meds and I feel noticeably better and I seem to almost have my eating under control.  Its surprising what you are capable of when you the ramifications are laid out for you by someone with a certificate on his wall that entitles him to caress your testicles.

I’ll let you know how I get on.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Fatties in space – The Poem. Not for kiddies

Fatties in space returns but not quite as you might have wanted.

You really should read this first before proceeding, but you don’t have to – it will just make more sense if you do..I am not ready for the full story but thought I would start exploring story lines through the medium of poetry.

 


It’s a tale of the round, and the girthy who found

a real love, one that’s true , one that’s strong

and the passion they share, but they’re rather aware

that they just cannot ‘go’ for that long.

 

For rotund they both are and alas the pair far

From in shape, ‘less that shape is a ball

He has always been big from when he was a kid

And she got real fat after a fall

 

So both desperate to please one another and tease

In the bedroom they try to delight

So as well as whipped cream for this sexy young team

Nacho cheese and choc pudding tonight

 

But they try none the less, she fits into a dress

Far too small for a gal of her size

but he gazes with love, says “it fits like a glove”

Then devours her like burger and fries

 

He heaves up his full frame, and she calls out his name

legs akimbo his hands on her hips

says “I fancy some kink, here what do you think?”

and eats onion rings from her nips

 

But before it begins pudding still on his chins

and the nacho cheese on her top lip

his legs started to cramp and she’s barely got damp

he tries hard but he’s losing his grip

 

“That’s enough” she cries out, “I do not want to shout

But I’ve needs and I need to be drilled”

So she books them a flight, taking off the next night

On the love ship, she will be fulfilled

 

For it heads into space at a jolly quick pace

They’ll be freed of this gravity curse

Yes it cost all they’ve saved, but they’re feeling depraved

And she wants to dress up as a nurse

 

So next time I will tell, and use words such as swell

And engorge and perhaps Ill use thrust

And Ill tell a bit more and you might just adore

The next verse in this tale of fat lust

 


 

More stuff?  No?  I understand…

Get well soon limericks 

Musings

More tea vicar ? 

On being really fat

They say one should write about what one knows, so I I think I shall perhaps write about being fat.

They say one should write about what one knows, so I I think I shall perhaps write about being fat.

Now, I don’t yet know if it will be a cake and pork fuelled celebration of my wobbly belly and chafing thighs or whether I shall use this as a shameful catalyst to stir me in my eternal attempt to lose weight.  I haven’t quite worked myself up to a commitment one way or another yet having only just penned the thought, plus I have a rather nice hot beef and mustard sandwich that needs to be eaten before I do any sort of serious decision making.

Now if I was to attempt to lose weight, which I indeed might but let’s not be too hasty as we are still working through the premise for this piece, then It obviously goes without saying that typing will not help me shed a single chin.  I am also pretty sure that a few of the particularly energetic amongst you may well be thinking that I should simply stop typing right now, wipe the quite delicious beef juice from my chubby little fingers and get myself on a treadmill or go for a nice walk.  I won’t argue against that point, and the matter of the treadmill is one I will address another time most likely, but for now I think I shall  either, but I shall persist with writing something first at that was my aim when I sat down.  That and to eat my rather delicious sandwich which I have done whilst typing this.

So where to next I ask myself.  I am not certain yet but how about I float a couple of ideas to see whether any of them stir me as to my preferred course of action:

·       When bending over to pick things up became an embarrassment to my children.

·       Why my jeans need pulling up whenever I stand.

·       Failing at not being fat.

·       Stamina, what stamina.

·       I woke up with a lollipop stuck to my jumper

·       What do you mean I have piles!

·       Late night eating by refrigerator light.

·       Please put a shirt on the neighbours might see you.

As much as that feels like Weird Al album track listing,  I think I might have enough ideas to take this somewhere you know. 

Perhaps I will see you next time when I tackle the difficult subject of ‘Why my bathroom scale hates me and lies just to make me feel bad about myself’.

 

 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/Lollipop/