No More Wotsits

So, was out tonight for Catherines birthday and a lovely evening was had by all, however, I spent most of the night begging my boobs to stop trying to escape from my bra and my arse to stop yaffling my pants. Yes, it's true, I am finally seeing the results of all the wine and haribo I have consumed over the last couple of months. If I'm not careful I'll have to start buying my clothes in Millets.  

It's not nice when your waistbands start leaving fleshwounds and you can count the change you had in your pocket from the imprint it's left on your arse. My bras are giving me sores and my trousers seams and buttons are hanging by a thread. I have so many chins, I look like I'm staring at you over a pile of pancakes.

It's time for action. I need to get in shape.  Yes, granted, a circle IS a shape but not the one I'm aiming to cultivate. I'd rather not look like I'm smuggling a SMART car down my top!

Gym membership has been procured at the local council establishment where old mingers sweat over the machines and the teenage mums let all their kids piss in the pool but hey, it's cheap and I'm desperate...

Here's what's booked for next week:

• Mon: Body Attack
• Tues: Body Balance
• Wed: RPM (think this might actually kill me)
• Thurs: Tums, Bums & Thighs
• Fri: Body Pump
• Sun: Yoga

I think it's fair to say that come Sunday night, it is likely that I may have lost the will to live and will be sitting cross legged, rocking backwards and forwards outside the local Greggs.

If I make it through the week, I plan to book more classes.  

If I make it through the week, I hope my jeans will fit me without cutting off my circulation

If I make it through the week without killing a small child or maiming a chav, I'll be amazed. 

If I make it through the week having cut out Wotsits, Monster Munch, Haribo, Flumps, Flying Saucers, Irn Bru, Coke, Wine, Beer and Cake, I'll dance a jig.

So there you have it. Not the most entertaining or humorous blog post but a truthful one.

Wearing The Same Pants For 2 Days

Yesterday started badly with a long drawn out phone drama with O2. The upshot of which had me spend 45 minutes in the Orange shop on the phone to the bank...too boring to write about so I'll skip forward. 

I dropped my new iPhone into the shop where 'the man unlocks phones with his secret powers' and then started to run home as I was already supposed to be on a train to Glasgow.

And, as always happens when I'm running late, I got embroiled in a chav fight and had to give a statement to the police. 

I finally get to Glasgow and the show was fab and a great laugh was had by all. Then Paul bought more wine.

This is where things went wrong. 2 pubs, a traffic cone, a club rejection, a gay bar, a fat lady fight and a heated debate filled taxi journey later, we end up at Pauls. It would be fair to say that none of us could see properly at this point, although we all agreed to 'one last glass of wine'.  At 5am we went to bed. I woke up 4 hours later, in bed with a woman*. 

Paul made coffee using the slowest boiling kettle I've ever seen and I had a Timeout for breakfast. We decided to go for lunch. I put my beer stained jeans back on, attempted to 'fluff' my hair up, wiped away the smudged mascara and brushed my teeth with my finger. I looked and smelled like someone had sicked me up.

I couldn't function. The simplest question stumped me. Ordering food was like a Japanese endurance test and I couldn't even pretend to be happy that I was alive. Paul and Donna spent most of the time laughing at me.

Walking through the streets of Glasgow to get the train station whilst wearing yesterdays pants, day old patchy makeup, sporting a hairdo like Worzel Gummidge and with beer stains on your jeans is not the classiest way to end a Friday. 

Hilarity came in the form of the really nippy tourettes suffering 10 year old loud kid who got locked in the train bog. I knew he was in there. I could hear him shouting for help. I ignored him and chuckled to myself. Does that make me evil? Meh, who gives a shit. I was a 36 year divorcee with the hangover from hell. That kid is lucky he still has all his teeth.

I finally got home and proceeded to drink the contents of my fridge but for some reason my gob was still as dry as Ghandis flip flop and tasted the way I'd imagine it would after licking a badgers arse.

Dinner was a packet of Wotsits and a Walnut Whip whilst crying into my pint of Irn Bru and promising myself that, come Monday, I'd sort my life out and cut the drink.

Until I go on holiday with Wil...

 * she's my pal, is married and we kept our pants on - sorry boys!


Thank god for this stuff is all I can say!

A Whale Ate My Head

Latest dream installment:

Last night I won a trip to go and watch sharks and killer whales on a small boat with 10 people I've never met before. I was very excited. We got into the middle of the sea and, after one small accident where one of the women fell in the water and got mashed up with the propellars, the sharks came flocking.

I was a bit scared because one of the people on the boat was massive and insisted on sitting next to me which put my end of the boat almost in the water.  I've never seen so many sharks. There were literally millions of them. Then it happened. We fell in.

One of the killer whales was trying to gnaw on my head and I thought it was cute cos my wee cat used to do that. I did realise I needed to get away though because my blood was going in the water and the sharks were circling. I magically discovered I was wearing a full scuba suit and sank to the bottom of the sea, watching the sharks and whales above me. Then a baby shark swam over and told me that the big sharks had a plan and that I should get out of the water and go and visit my pal before it was too late. I boosted to the top of the sea and swam like a loon. 

Suddenly I was dry and scuba suit free and in my mates house.  I walked into the living room and all the people that were on the boat (except the mashed up woman) were sitting behind some gauze and holographic sharks were floating about the room.

I went to the kitchen to make some tea and my pal came in playing with my new house phones and generally being a tit. On opening her cupboards to get cups for tea, I found that they were full of glasses which were full of meat. I made a joke but it didn't seem weird!

I escaped and ended up in Canada visiting my cruise ship pal. I got stuck in the gold encrusted lift and finally made it to her penthouse. She left me to go out and buy Pringles and wine.

Then I woke up.