Wednesday, February 22, 2012


I'm sure you're all aware of the joke. The one that I've managed to stretch to roughly 5 minutes in its delivery. Well, now I've gone and ruined the punchline anyway.

FIVE minutes??!!?? I hear you cry with no small amount of incredulity. That's nothing my friends, I once stretched a 30 second joke involving sexy penetration, sound effects and all, to a whopping - well around - 3 or 4 minutes. How the hell am I supposed to remember - I was lathered. You could hear my screams as I ran into the icy death known as Clifton's sea water all the way from the road above the beach.

Anyway, enough of that pointless reminiscing, on with the show.

Surprises. They can be both wonderful AND devastating.

Nice surprise. Last night I was contacted out of the blue by an old friend, with whom I've basically lost touch. We reconnected over a couple of beers and caught the Bayern Munich game. It was one of the more pleasant experiences I've had of late. Thanks, The Creature.

Not a nice surprise. As one gets older, if things go according to plan, one earns more and more. By this stage in my life I am sure I'm supposed to have made the significant leap into eternal monogamy and started a grandchild factory for my folks. Alas, this has yet to be put into practice. I'm good on the monogamy part - the Hot Girlfriend reads this - but not ready for parenthood yet. One day. When I'm growned up. And I've cared for something living. More animated than my herb garden.

Ja so, this morning when I stumbled into the bathroom and got nekkid, as one does in anticipation for a shower, I happened to glance (fastidiously inspect the physique) in the mirror and to my monumental horror I discovered that the little boep I have been joking about has become a proper "Saffrican Male" BOEP (you have to read that in a David Attenborough voice). I stood for a while cupping said offensive curve in my hand/wrist/forearm, turned sideways, covered my chest with my other hand/wrist/forearm and I was magically transformed into Demi Moore on the cover of Vanity Fair. The horror! I think I've been putting off the running and the football for long enough now, because as I so eloquently opined before: "I'd rather exercise harder than cut down on my drinking." After all, with the ever increasing 'sin tax', it is my patriotic duty!

Oh well, no point in complaining. It's time to get up up off my sedentary arse and do something about it.

Have a phantazmagorical day, everyone. And a special birthday shout out to the one and only Donnie. Have a good one, lad!

NGDG: "I went from an 8 point lead in two games to still lose at squash. Best R40 spent all day."

Spread The Love. Cardio Makes You Sexay! Sexay Makes You Cardio?

1 comment:

  1. Looks like you're soon to be subjected to the same punishment I keep willingly venturing into! Good luck!

    Beer truly is the devil in these parts, maybe you can create a blog solely devoted to losing a beer boep while still being able to actually drink beer. Is it possible?!