Your Tuesday limerick

It’s that time again

Advertisements

Once a virginal lassie from Bury

To her boyfriend she offered her cherry

“Damn wrong hole” she did cry

“You’re two inches too high!”

“Does it hurt?” he asked, she replied “Very!”

.

.

.

I had to do a wee but of research on this to get the imperial measurements as I am very much metric born and raised.   Oh and yes I know, position matters here in the general up and down of things. Look you’ll work it out I am sure…Now my browser needs clearing.  See the lengths I go to for your limericky pleasure!

Hey look another limerick

More than 600 limericks and first time I have used ‘front bum’.
Yeah I know, surprised me too.

Woman, goodstanding of the judiciary

had a front bum that smelled like a fishery

She would hand down decrees,

Judgements, consider pleas

But if upwind then that was true misery.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Diet O’Clock – 15th of March. One good week perhaps.

It’s so not ‘fine’.

I’m not going to write a lot.  Just a little.  Just a morsel.

I fear that if I don’t turn things around this week and get some sort of contol of my eating habits then I could undo all the good I have done in the last 8 months.  10 days from now I am going to take to the scales and am determined that there will be an improvement.

I’ve realised just what a difference being busy at work is making and the impact it is having on me and my discipline and it can’t go on.

See you a week on Sunday.


Did I sound really determined there?  Serious?

I am.  Okay so I fear going downstairs right now as there is some quite lovely leftover pie in the fridge which will surely turn sour if I don’t have it for breakfast and that will be a damning indictment of this wasteful capitalist society and I don’t want to feel like I am mocking the starving people across the planet by throwing it away.

I may be fat but I’m not a fucking monster …

 

Diet O’Clock – 5th of March. Weighing scales face off.

It’s so not ‘fine’.

Ever have one of thise fights where it starts off as nothing but you fail to resolve the matter and before you know it you ain’t getting laid (even though everything is apparently fine) but in actual fact you’re insensitive and thoughtless but you just don’t know it becaue you’re selfish too and apparently her mother was right about you after all.

Well I’ve been having one of those tiffs with my scales.

So at some point I neglected to get on them and things were okay I guess.  I mean I know I was probably hiding from them and that was wrong of me.  You know how judgemental scales can be and if I am to be honest I just thought they were over reacting.  Things were fine.  Right?

Before I knew it though days turned to a week and I knew that I should make more of an effort but there was this thing after work and I ended up getting home late so slept on the couch so as to not disturb it and the next morning I just felt really bad because I know it wanted to see me but you know how it is when you’re out with the lads.

Anyway, a particularly frosty period ensued and I did want to spend time with them but life happens you know.  When I look back I think I made them jealous and if I am to be truthful then yes, I was allowing myself to be distracted and having my head turned.  I just wanted to feel good about myself for once instead of always being judged.  There I said it.

Does that really make me a monster?

Today though I knew I had to put it right.  I couldn’t live like this anymore, not in my own house.  Every time I went into the bathroom they would stare at me, arms crossed.  I tried to say something it just came out wrong and the next thing I was defending myself by insisting that Ice cream just made me feel good, and I didnt mean to eat it downstairs at midnight in my underpants but it just happened and I really was so sorry.

And you know what, we fixed things.  We had to.  Yes there were tears, and some harsh truths were spoken.  I think maybe I even learned somethign about myself and life can sometimes teach is such valuable lessons about forgiveness.

And you know, things weren’t anywhere near as bad as I had feared and perhaps actually yes that T-Shirt had actually shrunk in the wash after all.

 

 

 

 

 

Diet O’Clock – 27th of February. Dominos, you hurt me and I hate you.

Give me my inches!

About 18 months ago I ate a lot of Dominos pizza. Probably twice a week at least for maybe a month. it was not good for my weight I tell you.

Now before you judge me too harshly I should explain that we were renovating the house and the scheduling all went to pot and the four of us ended up living in the living room for an extended spell with absolutely no cooking facilities whatsoever.

We had already spent weeks in a hotel and it was costing an arm a leg so we figured sod it, how bad can it be. Billions of people on the planet live this way.

Well as noble as that might seem (and to be fair we did have a working bathroom even if the house was still missing most of the roof) it was not the indoor camping trip that I explained to my wife and kids it would be.

Most of the time we survived on Tesco meal deals (A sandwich, packet of crisps, a drink and a snack of some sort) and bags of fruit in an attempt to ward off scurvy but there are only so many tuna sandwiches you can eat before you crave something more substantial. And that is where dominoes came in.

Two large pizzas, some wedges, a bottle of pepsi (diet of course ;)) and we were like pigs in shit. Full bellies we would drift off for a good nights sleep as the brick dust settled onto our lungs. By the time the builders moved out and normality was restored I was probably 15kg heavier than when the build started. Thats about 30lbs or more in about 10 months.

Anyway, to get to my point…

Sunday night the family were in full on rebellion as I explained that I had neglected to go shopping and it was soup and a sandwich for dinner. (I like to do the grocery shop – it keeps them from buying frivolous things like expensive loo roll and the good ham that isn’t actually full of water). They insisted that Dominos was in order and no way would they eat my soup.

Three pairs of Pouty lips and folded arms later I had ordered a large margherita, a large meaty thingymajig of some sort and some wedges. Now at £24.99 I thought it was steep but it was for two large pizzas and I figured it would last two meals and they could hae it the next night as leftovers too with baked beans and chips. (Fries for you americans not chips (crisps)).

I was upstairs when it arrived and by the time I went downstairs they were tucking in. I had already feasted on salsa and guac so was tryign mostly to just stay away from it because I have the will power of a priest surrounded by a chorus of pretty mouthed choir boys.

They informed me that they had left half for the next night which I was most impressed with and I went through to the kitchen to maybe just look at it for a while and then put the leftovers in the fridge.

And that is when things happened.

These were no large pizzas. These were medium at best. I checked the boxes and they noted that the pizzas were 13.5 inches. That is no large, my god I can eat two of thise and still have time for a sneaky Nando’s. I was outraged.

I quickly checked my order ready to make a jolly stern complaint about their mistake. I checked that I had ordered latge, which I had, so feelign smug there. they were going to get it.

And then for some reason I double checked what large was. 13.5 inches.

Now unless were talking porn, and even then it may be a stretch (no pun intended), 13.5 inches is in no way large. I checked the pizza place at the top of the hill and their large is an eye watering and anus splintering 16 inches. 13.5 is barely going to touch the bloody sides.

Surely the internet would know what the devil was going on and a quick google later I was to learn that I was not alone in my disappointment. Turns out those deceitful bastards recently reduced their ‘large’ pizza from 16 to 13.5 inches, and at the same time they upped the price.

Surely Pizza hut haven’t done this I thought to myself. Alas upon checking their idea of large is a meagre 14inches. 14! It’s the extra two that make it so bloody satisfying. How can I be sated with a meagre 14 frigging inches.

I have vowed never again to eat a dominos and was hopign the family would get on board with my protest and in future use the place at the top of the hill who guarantee satisfaction but instead they informed me that if I wasn’t eating it then actually two 13.5 inch pizzas was actually enough.

Bastards the lot of them!

P.s

I forgot to mention that I actually got a tape measure out and measured one of the pizzas and you know what it was about 12 in. 12 in. I reckon the 13 and a half in is before it gets cooked so the cooking process then steals another intern half and trust me we all know how important that extra inch and a half is. Anyway so at this point I’m actually missing an entire 4 inches .

Never Again dominoes, never again, you’ve hurt me and I won’t get over this. I can’t get over this.

Diet O’Clock – 26th of February. Not thinking does me a power of good.

Red and greeen, baby!

You know, I do so much better when I don’t have to think too hard about what I want to eat.  In fact, if I can not think about food at all I seem to get on a roll and it ceases to matter more and more.

To be clear, I love eating.  I love the way it feels in my mouth, the way it smells, I love cooking and baking and I love feeding other people.   Food is great and a wonderful way to share and experience people.   Socially that is, not because I want to eat them.  That said I do know a couple of fine folk who would look just dandy with an apple in their mouth.  Or is that a gag ball?  No .  Definitely an apple.

Anyway I digress.

So far the last few days have gone pretty well and you know why?  No?  Well I shall tell you.  It is because I have mostly eaten the same thing for days.  If you have read me before you may know that I discovered the joy of guacamole and salsa late in life.  As in the last year or so.  I have taken to it so much that I am quite happy to have it all of the time and often whip up a huge monster bowl of the stuff.

So since Saturday I have been filling my face with guacamole, salsa and any sort o fish.  Preferably mackeral.

The whole process just seems easy and I am not comtemplating my next meal or thinking about what I might like tomorrow.  Guac and salsa.  That is it.

There is probably a whole thing to be discussed around mindset and how one regards food and just breakling some of those ties to it.

Who knows.  I just know I love me a big bowl of red and green that I can eat with a spoon.

 

 

 

 

Diet O’Clock – 24th of February. Poor delicious horse.

Mmmm tasty.

Okay so last time I wrote I professed to be back on the horse.  remember that?

Turns out I actually got off it, shot it and proceeded to eat it.  Not just the tasty meaty bits either.   I ate the lot.  I even devoured all the nasty testicles and hooves that they put into hot dog sausages and sausage rolls.

it’s a funny old thing trying to get back into the swing of things.  I do it often and sometimes I do great and others quite terribly and it is often the simplest of things that trip me up.

Routine really works for me and once I am up and running I do really well but heavens forbid that routine gets disrupted and I behave like a bear who is intent on fattening up because he heard from a mate that it is going to be a particularly long winter and only dominos pizza and packets of pom bears will provide the calorific content required to stop him shuffling off this mortal coil sometime early February.

Now as much as I might pretend I am not really a fool and I know the signs and I realise what is going on but bloody hell I do so find it hard to turn things around sometimes.  Oh and god forbid I shold try and turn it around on a week day.  More chance of getting hit up the arse by a rainbow.

Apparently the cake lover in me is convinced that things can only be turned around on a Monday following a Sunday of pavlova and black forest gateau.  God he is a greedy bastard.

Anyway, this week I have done my damnedest to defy that black forest scoffing porker and I have attempted to turn things around on a Saturday.  Of all days!

I’ll let you know how I get on but right now I am off to get an apple as I am rather peckish and a horse cock kebab is sounding pretty good right now.

 

 

Oh those yummy dirty bits

A poem. About bits. Of stuff.

There are those who will dine

on fine foods and great wine

and who want just the finest of treats

But not me, no, no way

I’m quite proud when I say

Im a fan of the less refined meats

 

Give me Pies filled with heart

though it does make me fart

give me puddings of tripe, brains and balls

though it makes me quite gassy

I can still keep it classy

and with gravy for sure eat it all

 

Give me chicken arse flan

I’m not bothered with ham

give me dishes pile high with pig scrotum

I’ve this recipe for stew

with the balls of gnu

and some others, so good,  ‘cos I wrote ’em

 

Oh I cannot resist

the dark meats on my list

how i crave juicy brains, spine and liver

feed me pies filled with wings

of all high flying things

lick my lips in delight how I shiver

 

Dont cast doubt or dispute

nature’s leftover fruit

say ‘perhaps’ if your offered intestines

you might just take delight

at each savoury bite

as you wash it down with rich red house wines

 

Diet O’Clock – 20th of January – Back on the horse

And a pear martini in a pear tree…

Actually, looking at how I ballooned over xmas you’d have thought I’d eaten the horse. Mmm…Large sizzling horse steaks with a braised rib and a side of cheek.  Sorry, you know I wouldn’t eat a horse it’s not like Im Kazhak.  Or, god forbid, French.

I am sure other nations enjoy a little equine entree but I’m happy with my ignorant stereotypes.

Anyway, it turns out that over the month of December, as I flitted from one cocktail to the next like an inebriated humming bird I managed to put on around 6 and a half kilograms.  I think thats about 15 pounds n american money.  In a month.

Okay so there really were rather a lot of cocktails.  And puddings.  And meat and treats and little pigs feets and sweetest of sweets and …well there was just a lot of everything.  I watched the scales creep ever upwards until I had undone aout a third of what I had achieved in the previous six months forever telling myself that next week I would get back to it.

Next week drifted into the week after and then the week after that and I suddenly found myself feeling rather sluggish and weary and feeling little of the benefits that the weight loss and lifestyle changes had brought.  Clothes felt a little tighter, sleep wasnt as good and I was forever telling myself that tomorrow would be better.

But to cut a long story short it was back to the shops with a renewed focus and I stocked up and set about the task of trying to right things again.  Two weeks later I have shifted two thirds of what I put on and am feeling wholly better for it and ready to keep going.

Annoying though isnt it how easy it is to put on and how hard to get off.