Monthly Archives: July 2012

Diet of the Month… Weight Watchers

The Weight Watcher diet originated in 1960’s America and gained strength on our side of the Atlantic when an army of black-trouser and spangly top-wearing women decided that they wanted to wear black trousers and spangly tops in slightly smaller sizes, but without eating less or exercising and maintaining the zero quality of life they enjoyed before. Hooray, what a revelation!

While it is undeniable that Weight Watcher’s heyday is long gone, paving the way for newer, lazier diets for people who just can’t arsed with anything except preparing tens of thousands of tupperware dishes full of carrot sticks and hemp to take into work and eat all day, there is still something to be said about an eating plan where you can sit on your arse all day and still lose weight. That’s some feat.

It is for this reason that I have elected Weight Watchers for ‘Diet of the Month’, which I am using to help me in my quest to contracting a rampant case of diabetes later on in life. Here’s how I got on:

Monday

Starting Weight Watchers today with an allocation of 24 points daily. Glad I ate everything in the cupboards last night, including a box of doughnuts, a cake and four litres of cider, to remove the temptation of snacking- that was a brilliant idea. Off to work today with 14 tupperware dished filled with homemade food that Weight Watchers are paid to endorse no matter how repulsive delicious Weight Watcher recipes, such as Roasted Red Pepper Crumpet Pizzas (yum, all the fun of a vegetarian, cheeseless pizza without the pizza!) and No Points Soup, which is basically just lots of soggy vegetables gargling their own faeces. Delish!

Feeling maniacally happy at the minute, and light as a feather as, despite Weight Watchers saying that on this diet, you can eat carbohydrates, the unwritten rule is that the only carb allowed near your mouth is one piece of dried Nimble bread (basically half a slice of ordinary bread). Well, little pickers wear big knickers!

Feeling my work colleagues seeth behind my back as I point out how unhealthily they’re eating, despite the fact that I’ve only been on a diet for one morning, and that I was fat and unhealthy enough to go on a diet in the first place. Jealousy.

Drive home and sit on my arse all night. *Sips Diet Coke.

Tuesday

Work up this morning, still on a manic high. As seems to be Weight Watchers protocol, the more you begin to starve yourself of a ‘normal’ diet, the more your body gets used to the starvation. Brilliant news! My target weight was eight stones, but now, seeing as I can, I’ll starve myself to 4 stones instead and allow myself to put on 4 stones worth of cake weight. Excellent.

Got punched in the face by someone in work today for telling them that having pasta for lunch ‘does more harm than good’. I can’t believe how unhealthy people are- now that I’ve been on this diet for a whole day, I’ve realised that other people are killing themselves with food. On my way home from work, I called in to Tesco and bought four crates of Diet Coke. Diet Coke has zero points in it so I can have as much as I want. I bet it’s full of nutrients too. *Smug face.

Wednesday

Weighed myself today and lost half a stone in two days- how healthy am I?! Went out and bought myself a new pair of black trousers and a spangly top in a smaller size as motivation to keep going. Don’t feel hungry at all, despite the fact that all I’ve eaten for the past day is a few cans of nutritious Diet Coke. Mmmmm….

Got invited out tomorrow night for a few drinks with friends. Currently living off lettuce leaves and Diet Coke to save up the 48 points needed for a bottle of vodka to get absolutely pissed out of my skull. Thankfully, while one bottle usually isn’t enough, I am hoping the starvation in my system acts as some sort of drunk-accelerator.

Thursday

Attended a work tribunal regarding Tuesday’s assault by a work colleague earlier today. It was ruled that they had every right to punch me because I was being a [quote] ‘sanctimonious Weight Watcher bastard who thinks they know everything about diets and healthy eating, which is unlikely considering most people who do Weight Watchers gain their weight back eventually but they don’t tell you that in the fucking manual, do they?’ Jealousy.

Went out and got incredibly drunk- spent the entire night crying. Friends couldn’t tolerate me anymore so they left me in the ‘Drunk Dieting Women’ section of the nightclub, which is basically like the smoking section, but instead, houses all of the women in black trousers and spangly tops that, due to starvation, can’t handle their drink and spend the night befriending other dieting women, bonding all night over how much better they are than everyone else for sticking to Weight Watchers and saying things like, ‘I just wish my friends had the willpower to do it for themselves!’ *Sips vodka and Diet Coke.

Had a kebab on the way home. It doesn’t count if you’re so drunk that it was vomited back up anyway.

Friday

Reached that place where one becomes aware that food exists again and cannot bear one more second of starvation. Ate a pigeon on my way to work. No- I didn’t eat a pigeon. I ate four pigeons. So ashamed of myself. But pigeons aren’t in the Weight Watchers Points Guide so they were probably zero points anyway. As was all of the debris attached to the Weight Watchers cookery book, that I licked clean just to get some bits of food off it.

Went for my first weigh-in tonight (I got weighed last week but couldn’t start my diet as it wasn’t Monday yet, and under the Weight Watchers Unwritten Code Section B8.3, ‘Thou Shalt Not Start Diets Until Monday Morning. Exceptions include New Year’s Day, The Day After New Years Day (If New Year’s Day Falls On A Weekend), The Day After Your Birthday Week and Sometime After Your Holidays’). Horrified to learn that all that Diet Coke, starvation and low-fat pigeon eating was in vain as I put on four stones. Not only that, but my menstrual cycle packed up and left today with a note that said, ‘I don’t want to sit around and wait for you to start growing fur, so I’m off now’.

Myself and the other members of ‘Betty’s Weight Watcher Group in the Church Hall Friday Night at 8pm’ conspired against the Weight Watcher of the Week, cornering her in the car park, dismembering her and eating her for being such a bitch and losing weight when none of the rest of us did. *Sips Diet Coke.

Saturday

Went to hospital due to a feeling of insatiable thirst, blurred vision, weakness and increased need to urinate.

Sunday

Was diagnosed with diabetes. Amputated foot.

*Sips Diet Coke.

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Exercise Move of the Month… Refusing To Get Out Of Bed

We are busier than ever before and it is so difficult to find the time to exercise- which is why I am a firm believer in fitting exercise into your daily routine. This month’s exercise move is brought to you by the letter ‘D’ for ‘Downfall of the Economy’, ‘Depression’, ‘Dead End’ and ‘Dude, where’s my lie in?‘, taking that time of day in which you genuinely think you might actually kill yourself, and adding physical activity to it.

Here’s how to do the ‘Refusing to Get Out of Bed’ workout:

Step 1

Prepare for your workout in advance by not going to bed at a reasonable hour and staying up to watch a much-repeated episode of Law and Order: Special Victims Unit. Make sure to drink plenty of fluids so that you have to wake up numerous times throughout the night to go to the toilet, ensuring that any possibility of a good night’s sleep is eliminated, you shhllllaggg.

Step 2

Having had a terrible night’s sleep, your alarm goes off, signalling the start of your workout. Work those triceps as you snooze every five minutes for the next half an hour, and feel the burn in your lower arms as you death-grip your duvet to try to block out the bleak world that you face when you eventually have to get out of bed. Why is life so cruel?

Step 3

After half an hour of tricep-work with the snooze button, the real work begins. As you are now pushed for time, your partner or parent will enter the room and say, ‘Get out of bed, you lazy bastard! Why do you never learn to go to bed early?’, at which point, you should feel the burn in your abdominal muscles as you drag your lifeless torso upright to say, ‘Fuck off and leave me alone’ (like so)…

 Lie back down in bed. Repeat five times. Feel beads of sweat form as you, deep down, feel embarrassed that you’re such a failure and can’t even manage to get your own shit together without the intervention of someone else. Who secretly resents you.

Step 4

After your parent or partner eventually shouts, ‘I don’t know what to do with you anymore! You can sort yourself out from now on, you turdbag!’ and slams the door as they leave, feel your chest muscles working overtime as you sob marvellously and shout, ‘Why me?!?!’ Shake your fist towards the sky if you want to ‘up’ the intensity of your workout.

Step 5

Feel your brain muscles go into a frenzy as you search fruitlessly for an alternative to this dreary life of monotony. Take your breathing down to a relaxed level as you realise that you have no choice but to get up and get on with your day. Work those leg muscles as you stomp around the floor like a stroppy child.

Imagine you’re taking part in the London Olympics 2012 as you grasp your alarm clock and throw it like a javelin at the wall, smashing it into a thousand pieces. Laugh like a hyena, or, if you aren’t doing this at intermediate level, an evil genuis. Exit the room.

Step 6

Finally, to round off your workout, give your shoulders and chest muscles a battering by weeping copiously. Cry the whole way through Daybreak, weep as your brush your teeth to the extent your tears get into your mouth and you are effectively brushing your teeth with your own sadness, and sob the whole way to work. To complete the workout, get those legs going by kicking a pigeon on your journey, just because you can.

And… rest! Repeat every morning for effective results.

If nothing else, you’ll get free anti-depressants from your local GP. Get in.

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How To Mend A Broken Heart

Break ups are rough. Not only must you deal with the mental anguish of having fought with your partner for months, but you also need to get used to living life without the person that you once loved, or even still love. But how do you break up without having a breakdown, and how can you move on with life when life has moved on? Insert other cliches about ending a relationship here.

Here are five steps to mend that broken heart:

Throw Out Their Shit

Throwing out the shit that belonged to your bastard ex is a very therapeutic way to mark the end of your relationship. Once you round up all of their valuable, important belongings (old family photos, birth certificates etc.), place them into a box and take these items to their place of residence to see which of these items they would like to keep. Seperate their items into a ‘Keep’ pile and a ‘Throw Away’ pile. Once completed, say, ‘You’re never getting these back, motherfucker!’, douse the ‘Keep’ pile in a flammable liquid and set alight while laughing like a maniac. Then start kicking the ‘Throw Away’ pile around the room while singing ‘I Saw The Sign’ by Ace of Base with the crazed eyes of a lion chasing a baby deer. Once you’ve adequately pissed on their chips, exit gracefully.

Talk It Out

Talking about your ex allows you to voice your emotions, externalise your grief and, ultimately, move on. My advice is to talk to anyone who will listen, so call up your local radio station under the guise of taking part in a listener quiz and then, when on air, shout, ‘(Ex’s name) is a wankbag and a dog murderer!‘. Similarly, you can also talk it out with your ex’s work colleagues, by ringing their work line extensions and making them aware that your ex is a cunt. The same effect can be achieved online, by creating a chat account on a teen chatroom with your ex’s picture and home address, plus the username ‘Chuckles the Paedophile’. Finally, if you’ve done all of the above and still feel a bit sour about the break-up, be an adult and talk directly to your ex by turning up in their front garden and shouting ‘I hope you die!’ until their neighbours ring the police.

Go On Dates

While it isn’t advisable to get into anything serious when you’ve just ended a long-term relationship, it is a good idea to get out there and start meeting new people. Aren’t sure where to begin? Try befriending you ex’s friends and see if one of them wants to disregard the Bro/Girl Code long enough for you to use them to make your ex jealous and hurt. If your ex’s friends are loyal and see you for the antisocial psychopath that you are- not a problem. Just find someone else to use and conduct your dates outside your ex’s house or place of work. Make sure to laugh like a fucking maniac at everything your date says, as this will tell your ex: ‘I’m over you. You bastard. Why did you leave me? I’ll kill myself if you tell me it’s over for good. Go on- call my bluff.’

Change Your Routine

After a break up, it’s easy to sit and wallow, not leaving the house for days and sitting around crying. But in reality, there is no time like the present to change your routine and start establishing new norms to help you integrate into a new, better lifestyle. And it doesn’t have to be expensive, either. For example, start going clubbing at night by dancing to ‘Fighter’ by Christina Aguilera blasting on your car radio on the street of your ex’s new home and watch while they gets the message that you are so over it. Or, if nightlife isn’t your thing, you could quit your job so you could spend your days creating fake profiles on Facebook to lure your ex into an internet romance to cry over later.

Be Happy

Ultimately, being happy is the only way to free yourself from all of the misery caused when your relationship broke down in the first place. But how does one achieve happiness after a break-up? Simple. Create a Facebook group called ‘Being Happy When You See Your Ex With Someone Uglier Than You’ with a picture of your ex and their new partner attached, then spend all day (having quit your job at this stage) administrating the page with status updates about how big your ex’s new partner’s nose is, how fat they are and how they look too bookish. Show everyone how happy you are by saying things like ‘When we faded, you downgraded. Bitch needs to go back to the pound. Fuck you’.

Hashtag winning.

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Where Are They Now… The Cast of Sex and the City

It seems like eons since Sex and the City graced our TV screens, but that’s only because since the series ended, we’ve been subjected to two Sex and the City films that were so bad they altered the speed of time.

At the time of it’s conception, Sex and the City was considered revolutionary- for the first time, women were being depicted as in control, unapologetic for being sexually adventurous and disinterested in the ‘fairytale ending’ hoped for by the majority of female protagonists before them. Which is why they all ended up in committed relationships when the series ended. Funny that.

But where are the beloved stars of Sex and the City today? After extensive research, here’s an update on the four women that you, at some point, have asked yourself, ‘What the fuck does he see in her?’ about.

Sarah Jessica Parker (Carrie Bradshaw)

After being the muse for many individuals opting for a life of celebacy following her portrayal of whiny woman-child, Carrie Bradshaw, Sarah Jessica took a sabbatical from acting to focus on being papped while doing artsy things and pretending she was a bit bohemian when really she’s just a pain in the arse. When studies suggested that upper middle class, white women who need to be applauded for raising a child that they are responsible for with the help of a nanny were under-represented in cinema today, SJP made her comeback in I Don’t Know How She Does It. The film was given rave reviews worldwide, especially in Zimbabwe where many locals agreed that, even though 20% of the country’s population is suffering with AIDs and life expectancy averages 35, American women who juggle a highly-paid job, a rich husband and a well-behaved child are ‘miracle workers’. ‘I don’t know how she does it!‘ laughed one local, who was on her way to bury her 28 year old grandmother. Keep flying the flag, Sarah Jessica!

Cynthia Nixon (Miranda Hobbes)

Down-to-earth Miranda was the least glamorous of the group and with her intolerance for bullshit, it’s surprising that her character didn’t tell the others to ‘fuck off and stop creating problems’ throughout the show’s span. However, due to the prevalence of offence taken by women when they are compared to Miranda by their friends, Cynthia Nixon now travels the world as a public speaker for the charity, Women Against Being Like Miranda, in which she delivers motivational seminars on fighting the urge to adopt a cat, the art of settling for a partner just so you don’t feel lonely, and the merits of dressing femininely even though it makes you feel like a ‘whore’.

Kristen Davis (Charlotte York)

Serial desperado, Charlotte, was an optimistic romantic, and arguably the person whom most would pick if you had to spend the rest of your life on a desert island with one of the characters from Sex and the City, death not being an option. Many fans were shocked when it emerged during Sex and the City’s heyday that Kristen is a recovering alcoholic, as she adopts a ‘good girl’ image. However, while Kristen can’t enjoy a tipple anymore, she still likes to spend time with her alcoholic friends and continues to enjoy many of the activities that they did while drinking. ‘I don’t limit myself to things just because I’ve stopped drinking’, says the raven haired beauty, ‘I still like to sit for days on park benches slurring abuse at families, I love to spend my Saturdays stashing mini-bottles of vodka all over my house and I’ve been known to drop by at a family wedding or two just to heckle the bride and groom, then piss myself in a corner at the reception.‘ A gal after our own heart!

Kim Cattrall (Samantha Jones)

Walking STD, Samantha Jones, represents self-elected strong, independant women everywhere who don’t realise the irony in using sex to validate themselves. In reality, Kim Cattrall capitalised massively on her character’s tri-sexuality, writing a ‘how-to’ sex book with her then husband, Sleazy McRapistpants, after which they seperated, possibly due to smugness. Since then, Kim has made no secret of her ‘black sheep’ status of the group, saying, ‘I’m the sort of person people cross the street to avoid, and I’m still more likeable than those other three bitches’. Currently, Kim is rumoured to be set to star in the sequel to her 80’s hit, Mannequin. Mannequin 2: An Oldie But A Goodie, depicts the tale of a lonely bloomer mannequin in an underwear shop for ‘mature’ women who gets molested by an ageing stockboy suffering from a shy bladder. Sounds like it’ll be a blockbuster!

For these gals, the sky is the limit. Yes.

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How To Cope With The Recession: Part II

A while ago, I compiled a list of bulletproof ways to cope with the recession (here), and due to the unprecedented demand for a follow-up (someone told me the first part was so-so. Ish.), here’s Part II: How To Cope With The Recession.

Beg

If I had a penny for every time I walked past a homeless person in any given city centre, just to be warned by a friend that said homeless person was spotted earlier preparing for a day of street begging by removing their Rolex watch, leaving it in the bejewelled glove-compartment of their customised Bentley convertible, donning rags and sitting on a street corner saying, ‘Big Issue, please’, I’d be richer than this entire epidemic of millionaires who enjoy street-begging as some sort of quirky and inexplicable hobby combined. So there you have it folks, go out and get yourself a head scarf and trenchcoat to start your double life as a beggar/assumed millionaire.

Cut Your Grocery Bill in Half

While many people complain about the rising cost of food, there are a number of excellent ways to cut down on’t ‘Big Shop’, such as identifying the person who reduces the supermarkets’s out-of-date food and following them around, much like a stalker, which you can justify to yourself as being ‘thrifty’ and certainly not a danger to yourself or others. Yes, if you weren’t within the premises of Tesco, that person would be applying for a restraining order with your name on it, but if it helps you sleep at night, then asking them for a list of their shifts for the week is merely ‘making conversation with an acquaintance’. If you have morals and thus feel uncomfortable stalking someone, you can alternatively slash the price of your groceries by standing by the free samples in-store and taking umpteen cocktail sticks while saying, ‘I haven’t made up my mind yet’ to the disillusioned salesperson.

You can also employ this tactic while getting ready for a fancy night out by going into Superdrug and using the free make-up testers. Remember to get that lipstick all over your teeth or else you won’t be able to ingest the remnants of oral herpes left on the tester by the last non-paying patron.

Ask For A Payrise

Money saving goldenboy, Martin Lewis, is a pioneer of making the public’s money go further, and his first rule of thumb is to know your worth and ask your boss for a payrise if your pay is below industry norms. Even during today’s economic meltdown, asking your boss for a payrise is likely to result in a windfall as they will inevitably tell you to go fuck yourself, sack you and employ someone to do the job for half your wages. Hey presto, £70 per week you never had before claiming Jobseeker’s Allowance!

Become A Kardashian

No skills required. It doesn’t matter if you are an arsy dickhead with little to contribute to society other than the ability to make every statement you say sound like a question and occasionally bust into tears on camera, saying, ‘I mean, people think I’m all about money and material goods but they’re wrong!’ whilst similtanaeously being all about money and material goods- you’ll fit right in.

Play Online Bingo

Not only does the glamorous world of online Bingo open up a new realm of possibilities for cash prizes, new cars and holidays, you can make new friends with the  losers other Bingo players in the corresponding chatrooms, bonding over discussions of how Dazza6969 should tell his girlfriend that he took out a credit card in her name to play online Poker or watching a love story unfold between CouncilEstateBabe1 and SwanseaHotGuy4U as they start having the type of online affair that would make Kerry Katona herself say, ‘That’s a bit low-rent’. Plus, think of the money you’ll save by not getting out of bed for days while you developing manic depression. Quids in!

Kerching.

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How To Be Dead 80s

Ask anyone who knows me and they’ll tell you I’m a total wanker. But, as a possible sidenote, they may mention that I love the 80s and pretty much anything to do with that era. The 1980s was a joyous decade, rich with ridiculous hairstyles and an embarrassment of diamond patterned knits, set against a backdrop of hilariously synthesized sound effects and dickheads doing the sidestep. What’s not to love?

Here’s how you can relive the 80s in five easy steps:

Purchase a Keyboard

In true 80s style, moonwalk your good self down to your local Argos (for any Americans reading, this would be your local Sears) and put down a deposit on a boombastic keyboard. Important: make sure it has a wealth of funky sound effects, like animal and ‘space’ noises, that you can insert into your compositions. All you have to do now is write songs about women who think that you are the one, while, alas, the kid is not your son. In 2012, such situations would involve paternity tests, court appearances, a ton of paperwork and a broken childhood, but in the 80s, it was acceptable to solve paternal confusion by dancing about on lighty-up squares while insinuating that Billie Jean was a right slaaaaag.

Dress to Impress

In order to be dy-no-mite, you need proper 80s threads. Whether you’re attending a disco in your local leisure centre, having a yo-yo competition with your friends, or standing in front of a graffiti-covered wall instructing pedestrians to walk this way, your clothing is key- the more flamboyant, the better. Starve your crotch and arse of any dignity with a pair of luminuous cycling shorts (bike not required), an oversized sweater with a picture of Daffy Duck on it and a zippy bag that clips around your waist to carry a Duran Duran keyring in. If you want to go formal, a pair of hammertime trousers are fetching when coupled with a exaggerated shoulder-padded blazer- ideal for shuffling from side to side, scaring the shit out of passer-bys while informing them of their inability to touch this.

Don’t Mess with the ‘Do

For those of you who think that their hair is too unmanageable to fashion into an 80s style- good news: 80s hair is all about looking like a fucking lunatic, so if your hair looks ridiculous when unstyled, then you’re already halfway there. If your hair is a frizzy mess, tie it back with an enormous green scrunchie or tortoise-shell clamp- and don’t forget to gel the bejeezus out of your fringe to achieve that ‘extra greasy’ look! If you prefer to wear your hair down, throw a bowl over your head and use as a guide to roughly cut your hair into a style that you will look back at in photographs and say, ‘What the fuck was I thinking?!‘. Fellas- fluff the top of your hair to achieve bouncy curls while combing the back down to ensure your mullet is Achy Breaky Heart material.

Live in Denial

Many people look back at the 80s as a simpler time- this may be true of earlier decades, but the rise in corporate power, greed and general cuntishness were all products of the 80s, and all of the shit that happens now just happened back then too, behind closed doors. The only thing that was different was that 80s people pretended things like paedophilia, murder and prostitution didn’t exist. The best way to be in denial is to thrown on a pair of cycling shorts, chill on a beanbag and when anyone approaches you with serious or bad news, just say, ‘What you talkin’ ’bout, Willis?‘ and let the canned laughter run until the scene finishes- thus evading any problematic situations. When you read the papers, be all, like, ‘One Direction are most definately not having sex with their underaged fans’, and force your family to have ‘quality time’ by sitting around the dinner table every day communicating with each other, even though you are secretly frightened to inform them of your life insurance policy lest they murder you in your sleep.

And finally, Create a dance move

If I had a penny for every dance move born in the 80s, I’d have enough cash to buy myself a dress worthy of inspiring Zack Morris to ditch Kelly Kapowski and dance with me at the senior prom instead, which would almost guarantee that I’d be crowned prom queen and A.C. Slater would congratulate me by saying, ‘Well done, mama’. Swoon. Anyway, dances like the Cabbage Patch (fuck), the Robot (double fuck) and the Running Man (infinity fuck) have originated from our most bitchin’ decade, but that’s not to say that you can’t pick an inane 80s song and make up a new dance routine by ”doing the actions” to the lyrics (e.g. if the song says ‘my heart’ then make your hands into a butterfly shape, put them to the left of your chest and make ‘throbbing’ motions). Remember to always dance with a pair of knee-length socks worn as ankle-socks inside clunky black plimsoles, and with a serious expression on your face to denote that you are the coolest cat this side of the Love Shack.

Cowabunga, dudes! Etc.

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