sunday

New website!

But bear with me for the snagging – my tech skills aren’t exactly polished…

monday

I’m thinking of starting a gym.

I’ve been to a couple of open days on a couple of occasions and do you know what I noticed? No gin.

Now, most ‘Health and Fitness Facilitators’ have a bar, but not one that you’d actually want to frequent; they have pious fruit smoothies and serve that horrifically aroma’d unguent that sticks to the glass and looks as if it may be contemplating world domination (I think it’s green); they have organic carrot cake (displayed on a tuille of calorie-free celery) and most even list some form of chocolate gateaux as a menu staple but they will not serve you a Plymouth’s and tonic as it is – gasp – a gym, madam. 

Because sugar-filled baked goods topped with lashings of icing are healthy?

One overly-toned doll actually tried to justify the expanse of gooey items as “a treat for working out!” Bollocks. If you want to indulge me, make it a double and let me smoke indoors.

So, given that 60% of gym members let their attendance lapse within the 1st six months but continue to pay their fees for up to two years, I’m opening my own place. It will, of course, be called Lou’s. It will have a well-stocked bar and comfortable seating and any fitness-like equipment will be housed completely separately. Possibly in England.

You won’t have to waste money on specialist clothing. You won’t have to deal with smug enthusiasts wandering naked ’round the changing rooms. You won’t feel guilt at choosing ti-vo over tae-bo and, above all, you won’t do yourself (or the bathroom fittings) an injury trying to lower yourself onto the toilet the day after you complete 40 reps of lunges, weighted down by an anorexic.

Actually, you’ll love Lou’s Gym: all new members will receive – free of charge – a nifty bottle opener and a weekly phonecall to tell you that you look fabulous, darling, just as you are.

Don’t change a thing!

monday

My brother is very intelligent. He is handsome, charming and good company.

He also appears to be channelling Forrest Gump today. A fraught and frustrating 5 minute conversation with him just now raised the following points:

1. The reason that his laundry is still wet this morning is because it sat in the washing machine until I came home from work at 9 last night as he worked his way through my dvd collection. NOT because I got up at 3am and squirted it with water.

2. I don’t know why the tumble-dryer doesn’t have clear instructions rather than stupid little pictures that could mean anything from ‘imminent tornado’ to ‘tumbleweed rabbit’ – ask the landlord. All I do know is that I managed to work it out without step-by-step instructions from a sibling…

3. When ma told us never to leave a washer/dryer on when we left the house (presumably in case of flooding/fire) I was listening.

I hesitate to suggest that he’s paddling in the shallow end of our family gene pool, but still…