You're addicted to grub...

Food, like crack cocaine, is addictive.

I say this from first hand experience. I am not overweight because of a genetic disposition or a poor metabolism. I am not overweight due to a sedentary lifestyle or poor self-esteem. I am not even overweight because of global warming. I’m overweight because I eat too much.

If you put a plate of chips in front of me, and an ounce of heroin in front of Pete Docherty, the result would be somewhat similar, except Pete would probably know when to stop. If you give me food I will eat it until my belly fills, my heart panics, and people begin to ask me if I’m pregnant.

The other difference between myself and a heroin addict is that the junkie, a drain on society, gets free health care, free counseling, free morphine injections and a free appearance on Trisha when he is a ‘reformed sinner.’

The fat person on the other hand, who drive our economy with their purchases of custard doughnuts and Garfield Comics, get ridiculed, teased and a lifetime membership to Weight Watchers.

Something must be done to readdress the balance. So as it seems that only bad people get help for free, is the change the publics image of food addicts. I will have to beat BMI the bad boy way.

Locking myself away, I’ll gorge on takeaway and watch day time TV. This is pretty much what I do now anyway. But as my funds are swallowed up, and I can no longer fit in my work clothes, I’ll need alternative ways to fund my habit.

You’ll see me raiding the Post-Office on pension day, forcing old ladies to give me their snacks and sweets. Their pension money, will be exchanged for food at a ‘shady’ corner shop after sun-down.

The paranoia will build. I’ll hoard food in my bedroom, liquefying and injecting it directly into my upper bowel for an instant hit. In desperation I’ll lie outside Burger King, rummaging through the bins, threatening to sit on people unless they give me their take-away.

Before each meal I’ll snort salt, rub pepper into my gums, inject vinegar into my veins and smoke a rolled up sachet of tomato ketchup, then shovel the food quickly into my pre-condimented body.

And finally, in desperation when no other source of food can be found to satisfy me, I will grind up my leftovers, mix them with talcum powder and sell them by the ounce at a massive profit.

And then, after selling my soul, gaining 10 stone and earning an eternity in hell, the police will arrest me. In a court appeal I’ll be psycho-analysed and put back on the street with free counseling, free medical support, and free samples of slim-fast!

Fat is back. Viva la Revolution.

Why I'm Getting Old... Part 4

I find pleasure in grumbling over the price of Coffee Shop Coffee

Previous Aging Concens
Part 3, Part 2, Part 1

Hunger Shock

I brought myself a new PDA this weekend, part of my intention being that I could use it to update this blog. Instead I've spent the last few days playing with the PDA. Sorry. I have however, gained an amazing score on Space Trader.

1. Talk
2. Get off the Web
3. Get Healthier
4. Leave the House
5. Join some Clubs
6. Say Yes
7. Spoil Myself

Walking home from the gym the other day, munching an apple on the way, I planned to go to Tesco (God of all supermarkets) and get some healthy, but easy, food for dinner.
I was heading down the aisle towards the ready meals when I walked past the eggs.
Now I love eggs and my love affair with them is powerful. Looking back over my life it is one long story of egg. I could happily eat 12 a day if my boyfriend would let me and still be up for an egg mayo sandwich as a midnight snack. Which is why it was somewhat odd, when I decided I didn't want them.

Baffled I walked on. The cake section was the same, the pizzas too, even the chocolate seemed unappealing, and then I realised a very bizarre thing. I wasn't hungry.

I am always hungry. It is very rare to hear to my stomach growling but mostly because I never give it a chance to. I eat when I'm bored, I eat when I'm tired, I eat when food is put in front of me, and hunger has never really played a part in it, more a kind of reflex action involving my hand and face. But standing next to the chocolate display in Tesco (PBUH) I realised I wasn't hungry. The apple had filled me up. And I went to the ready meals, got an Indian (a meal, not an actual resident of India), came home, put it in the oven and nearly forgot about it.

Something is beginning to take effect. I'm hoping it isn't the flu virus....

(P.S. Over the next few days, l had a fry up, a pizza, and a Burger King, so it may not be quite the revelation I was hoping for. But I didn’t eat all the chips so maybe all is not lost…)

A Miracle on Park Street...

1. Talk
2. Get off the Web
3. Get Healthier
4. Leave the House
5. Join some Clubs
6. Say Yes
7. Spoil Myself

I went out with my work mates last night drinking!
To those who may not understand why that statement is being exclaimed allow me to elaborate.

• Last night - a Wednesday! Even though I'm working today!
• Went out - I do not go out. I prefer to sit and watch TV or surf blogs trying to find the well written ones.
• I – the nominative singular pronoun, used by a speaker in referring to himself or herself.
• Work mates - I haven't had ‘work mates’ since I moved to Bristol, and I prefer not to mix my work and social (or lack of) life, but last night I went out drinking with people from work.
• Drinking! – Imbibing of poisonous toxins for pleasure and sexual gain.

And I loved it. Really - even though my friend and I started drinking early ad probably made complete tits of ourselves. But then that is the purpose of alcohol in this country.
And I made myself leave early so I could wake up in time to go the gym today!

Gym!

1. n a building or room designed and equipped for indoor sports, exercise, or physical education. (gymnasium)
2. n An English male name as spelt by dyslexics
   

What is going on with me? A month ago I would have hated the idea of going, refused to get drunk, sat in a corner and not spoken to anyone, and left at about 10:00. But last night I really enjoyed myself, had a few drinks chatted to everyone and left at the reasonable hour of 11:30 but only because it's a school night and I'm going to the gym today. (I also had Nandos for Dinner, but we won't tell anyone that...)

I think, maybe, someone should get me Doctor; there is clearly some strange sociable creature that has taken over my brain,
And at this rate it will probably take over my liver too.

Becoming me - Week 3

1. Talk
2. Get off the Web
3. Get Healthier
4. Leave the House
5. Join some Clubs
6. Say Yes
7. Spoil Myself

At the moment, when I relax, my stomach unrolls against my underwear, folding the waist of my boxers down over my jeans like a horse curling his bottom lip. Sexy huh?

I've been dreading this week. I've been avoiding it. I’m unhealthy and I know it but as long as I don’t admit it it’s not really true, kind of like Global Warming. I've stopped taking care of myself. I let myself go, which isn't as complicated as it sounds.

I love food. If I was allowed to, I would go to bed with it. I tried that once with Cod and Chips. It was the first time my genitals had ever smelt of fish. But I also love feeling sexy, when I feel sexy my confidence has a natural boost, and I stand in front of mirrors more often.

If I’m honest though I’m not doing much to get healthy at the moment and the only way to get healthy is to get healthy. So for the first week I'm going to throw myself into it like a lesbian into a chocolate cake, get myself acclimatised, and make the remaining weeks seem like a walk in a cruising ground.

To Do

• Concentrate on my food.
I currently hire a man with a shovel to spoon feed me. This week I will attempt to concentrate on every mouthful I eat and actually enjoy eating.
• Go to the gym Mon - Fri for at least 30 minutes of cardio.
No sauna till I’ve built up a natural sweat.
• Walk to and from Work
• Maximum one vending machine purchase a day
• Five fruit and veg a day
• Learn to love my body

I will not however be detoxing. I refuse to do anything that makes me spend money. Unless of course it's chocolate coated.

Read Archived Articles about my health.
- I can make you thin
- Steaming
- Calorie Counting for idiots

Overheard in the Cynic Household

My Boyfriend and I were in bed last night discussing how we might spend some of his redundancy money. This is one of the most common things we do in bed, the most common being sleeping. Amongst some of the ideas (holiday, Wii, owning a small chain of porn retaillers) was a practical one about buying a new freezer.

Him: "Yeah, but there's no point in us getting a freezer."
Me: "Why Not?"
Him: "'Cos all we'd do is fill it with food."

That, quite possibly, is the problem with western society...