I’m writing this from a hotel room in Bristol overlooking the river. I could write a poetic prose about the rain outside lashing down on to the water below, too fast for the circles to decrease, slashing the surface tension like a million hot knives, each crash merging together until the sound is just one long gush.
However, the sight is not poetic. It’s shitting it down. I’m coming down with a cold – and as an attempt to get rid of it quick, I’ve just inhaled a massive bowl of Japanese noodle soup with extra chilli. When I asked for the extra chilli in the restaurant, the waiter eyed me like I was the drunken westerner you get in every late night curry house. The one that orders “ the hottest thing on the menu”. I’m a bit of a wuss with spicy food though, so I got it on the side to add myself.
So I’m sat here, runny nose, Hollyoaks, spots (loads of) and the perm has come out to play. I’m so far away from Marie Claire perfect its unreal!
My preparation task today was to look up colonics, well the best priced colonic I could find. I’ve actually had one before, it must have been a mild trauma as I don’t remember much about it and I never went back. From what I do remember though, it lasted about an hour, it cost £60, she talked me into spending another £20 on some herbs that gave me the runs for 2 days and I didn’t feel any thinner.
I didn’t follow it up with 3 days worth of green soup though, maybe this is the catalyst to success (plus I went out that night and got extremely drunk which may not have been the best move).
So my options have been narrowed down to the Pure Life clinic at £50 (name sounds good – Pure. Life. Never thought that could be provided by a hose up the rectum), or the Ki clinic at £40. There is a catch however – to get the £40 price I have to take a mate, who also has to be willing to pay £40 to be violated with a hose.
One friend springs to mind immediately. For the sake of this blog we shall call her “Scouse”. Scouse has just got a new job, so I’m going to sell it into to her as a sort of fresh start, spring clean for mind and body. I don’t think it will be that hard, Scouse, like me, is a sucker for any hokey pokey that promises instant results on the weight front.
Plus, we have not spent some quality time together for a while, so this will obviously be the ideal opportunity to catch up.
I might call her now actually; I’m suddenly feeling a bit lonely. As I type, I have some Benylin cold and flu tablets to my right, which I’m chasing with a mini bottle of Gallo rose wine directly from the neck to my left. This could be construed as a fairly morbid scene if it were not for the grin on my face due to finding a free flapjack in the wardrobe.
Ooh a piece on the One Show has just come on about drinking 2 litres of water a day based on the advice of glossy mags! Amazing – the One Show KNOWS I’m sat here writing!!
They are getting Twins to eat identical breakfasts, one can only drink water – the other can only drink mixed drinks.
The result – no difference, the twin that was allowed tea and coffee showed no difference in hydration to the twin that was allowed only water.
They then made one twin drink 2 litres of water more than the other twin over a 24 hour period. The result – no difference! Both had the same colour wee.
Apparently anything but Alcohol counts towards the 2 litre of fluid intake. This my friends, is a revelation. Well done the One Show! Alas though, I have vowed to follow the advice from Marie Claire for myself. So for a month 2 litres of plain water each day will be on the menu. Mixed drinks will have to be instead of rather than as well as.
