Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Piss Poor Performance

OK ...  so I am tipsy and blurry, I do have sufficient amount of alcohol on my system to try and hammer out a post. 

I LIE   !!  its a technicality  I'm just hung-over. Its been a while since I had a few, and I over did it.

Its quite silly that I finally decide to start blogging and do so when I am three sheets to the wind, and then suddenly, I up and stop drinking and go all healthy.

I LIE   !! ........  I just stopped drinking beer...............  sigh !! 
Only wine and whiskeyfor now, well, at least for the next few weeks. My personal trainer couldn't get me of the piss so we made an agreement to  strike out beer. Now, I could have just lied to him and said I quit it all,  he wouldn't have known any better. However, he is a drinking buddy.... Go figure !! getting lit up with someone who is gonna kick your ass in the gym three times a week.  

My mental image of a gym is a sweaty hairy ball-sack, the kind you get when you wear nylon undies and go hiking in a tropical forest for 10 days. I get it, but I don't like it. All the huffing and puffing and grunting and groaning, I rather save that for the Olsen twins, or just my wife (incase she reads this). 

So I am in the gym 3 days a week, huffing and puffing, grunting and groaning like the rest of them, sweaty ball sack and leaking rectum.......... YES !! .............  leaky Rectum.... The squats do that to yah, ..... squats, squat thrusts, squat pushes... pure evil stuff ... you end up leaving skid marks like the Dukes of Hazard. Makes for a funky wash load, the maid must think I have some serious medical issues. 

Why do people use treadmills in places like Shenzhen or Hong Kong?? In Siberia, sure, saves you from turning into a popsicle, even in Pakistan, sure, saves you from getting shot or blown up. 
but generally, its fuckin retarded to walk/run on a treadmill like a demented lab rat. I have never seen a happy face on a treadmill, atleast the lab rats get some cheese, all people get, is to smell like cheese. 

SO I get on the treadmill, and now what .... ITS IN CHINESE...  damn machines are hard enough in the queens own, but CHINESE..  I ask one of the attendants, he rattles of again in CHINESE...  twat !!   SO ....Finally I get it going, well sort of... these machines are meant for Chinese weights, 100 pounds soaking wet in thick honey. The damn belt doesn't move with my all abundance on it, squick squick woosh, squick squick woosh....  I can hear twat giggling in the back... I feel like sitting on him. 

As you can tell I am not enjoying the GYM... or this new found path to being healthy................. but I am going to try and stay the coarse for my bit of cheese

Friday, February 13, 2009

Starting Block

Its taken this long, reading these blogs, all kinds, ones that I hate, blogs that make me think, blogs that make me...... not want to think, verbal scatology, cerebral diarrhia,
Ooooofh !!! 

It took a bit. The tip of a Bottle, to get my soporific ramblings down on paper. I am going to keep this Blog strictly for when I am sufficiantly enibriated. and will try not to edit it the next morning.

I think I need this.................!

Anyways, I think I was plaigerising Paul Theroux for a moment in my first few lines. Cant help it, just finished reading 'The Patagonian Express', its just so fresh in my head...

hmm.. this Aquavit stuff is pretty decent....  Thank you !!! Scandanavians for your funky tipple, and for all the useless shit I end up buying at Ikea. What the fuck am I going to do with this ....hmmmmmm...  I have no idea what this is..  its called Sklarr, SKLARR with the funny dots the Ikeans have on the letters. Who calls this shit SKLARR..... 
Vikings naming household utensils, thats why you end up with Sklarr.

I digress

It has taken a long time for me to google "blog:, sign my name, create a creation, and get on with it. I dont know what finally convinced me. A loved sibling has been hitting the keyboard spilling her thoughts for a while on the blog world and thoroughly entertaining me. I have been surfing (connotations of pure envy) the blogworld thinking I need to do the do. 

I think it finally took me an hour of reading a blog from someone I dont even know. A distant being, connected with banalities even more obscure. Yet it left me thinking, pondering, wondering, what the fuck am I not writing for?

So here it goes...   Thoughts making their rightfull procession towards words.