Greetings….from your chocolate deprived (or is it depraved) friend Jude. Since I last whined to you I have…..
- Not been satiating my innate desire to devour all things chocolate
- Refrained from imbibing (well almost) vast quantities of vodka
- Shrunk my food portions down (a little bit-but it all adds up right?)
- Attempted to ‘act’ fit while at the gym
- Stopped myself from attacking husband with blunt objects due to imbalances caused by list above, and his comment after my first week, when he said “So when are you going to start your real diet?” Yes readers….he did say that, and the fact that he still breathes is due entirely to my sympathetic feeling for sub-intelligent species. If he were intelligent…he’d be dead.
Real diet my arse…..men can be so bloody stupid can’t they? I think that is why they have a penis to pee with. Anything more complex than that appendage, and they would constantly need to change their underwear! Poor wee things, but it must be wonderful only having to single-task…..to have flat chests so you can run without fracturing a rib on the down-bounce. And to walk around with said chest bare to the world, regardless of how revolting you look. Oh to have only one mood swing…one that is either a good mood….or a bad mood, with no in-between, and each of these moods dictated solely by: Sports/Food/Sex or in my husband’s case Sci-Fi/Food/Sex.
To have the freedom to pick your nose and scratch your crotch at will…..to regale your male buddies with amazing stories of the previous night’s flatulence or how many beers it took before you threw-up. Oh to be a man and never have to buy mascara, wear lipstick or roll your hair. But I digress……..
I am going to the gym, and I am trying very hard to walk/run/walk/run. It is difficult, but I endure, owing in part to the wonderful audible story I listen to as I am on the track. Isn’t this era amazing? We can run the dishwasher, wash clothes, dry clothes, all at the same time as shopping for groceries while ‘listening’ to a book. Yet why is it that I still never seem to have time to get anything done? I believe that all the microwaves in my food are rendering me stupid, because I should be able to accomplish small miracles in the ‘spare’ time I have with all my wonderful appliances and the empty nest that I call home…hell I don’t even have a dog but I am still always short on time. I bet you all get where I am coming from on that score right?
I think I need an assistant ‘me’ – probably one that looks a lot like Mark Wahlberg or George Clooney. The kind of guy that wants no money, just the opportunity to be near me 24/7…..of course if I had one of them as an assistant, I would instantly shed 20 pounds the day they walked in the door. My body would make Kim Kardashian look like she had no arse, and my wrinkles would disappear as all my spare skin rushed to form a delectable curvy bum and big boobs. I would develop a girly personality and fat lips, my eyebrows would suddenly arch up and point to my hairline, and I would develop pretty feet. My extra chins would drop off and my neck would stop looking like a turkey’s and become that of a swan’s………For the first time since I was 6 years old, I would shop for clothes in a single-digit-size and my new assistant would swoon with love and adoration as I emerged from the changing room in yet another glorious gown from Target…….see…………………….this diet is really not good for me…..the fish oil pills are making me hallucinate…….
Jude on cloud nine…………………