It’s that time again, folks! Time to burn a few calories and work towards not feeling embarrassed at how fat you look in a swimsuit by doing our Exercise Move of the Month. This month’s move is brought to you by other people’s fucking selfishness forcing you out of your own home and is called ‘Moving House’.
Moving House is a predominantly cardiovascular exercise, with plenty of sweating and hard graft- but also, gives the core a good workout by being an absolute fucking nuisance. Here’s how to do it:
Your neighbours are inconsiderate bastards and refuse to stop making noise, no matter how many times you ask them nicely. Warm up to the exercise by persistently dragging yourself reluctantly to their door, and feel your facial muscles strain as you try to maintain a friendly relationship by smiling while talking to their pathetic, worthless faces.
Hold your arms down as you try not to punch them in the stomach. Later, feel your heart rate rising as you are, yet again, woken by the noise of an obese man heaving himself around the room dancing to ‘Can’t Touch This’ while his irritating friends laugh without abandon. Do some shoulder-toning by sobbing to yourself all night.
Ring round estate agents and book a few property viewings. While being shown around prospective homes, feel the burn in your eye sockets as you eye-roll relentlessly while being fed lie after lie about the frankly, depressing shitholes that are in your budget. Find somewhere you can tolerate and sign on the dotted line. Go home and open a bottle of alcohol, doing mini-armcurls all night as you lift the bottle to your mouth. Burn off all of your daily calories consumed as your vomit tearfully all night. Hear the opening bars of ‘Can’t Touch This’ mid-spew, and tone your biceps by putting the fucking ceiling in with a brush handle.
It’s the day before moving day, so pack up all your shit into boxes, burning off thousands of calories through sustained cardiovascular activity. Start off slow by being well-meaning with your packing, leading into an intense fury of throwing everything into boxes, and just sellotaping that motherfucker up. After you’ve worked up a sweat, bring your heart rate back down to a normal level by going for a brisk walk to obtain a solitary dog turd, which you should deposit into your neighbours post box. Feel your stomach crunch as you laugh like a fucking maniac at the thought of them having to spend the time cleaning it that they’d much rather be spending mingling with their virtual friends on Second Life and other cuntish, loud activities that they seem to favour.
Now this is where the workout steps up a little. Get up in the morning with stress-related diarrhea, which is made worse by your estate agent calling you and telling you they can’t find the keys to your new property, or other incompetent drivel. If you are purchasing your new property, expect a call from the mortgage company to inform you of a mix-up that they knew about months ago, but didn’t tell you about because you were ‘in a queue’. While this step doesn’t contain cardio, you’ll probably lose a fuckload of stress-pounds, or die of a stroke.
If you’ve survived step four, then you’ll probably have an adrenaline rush-perfect for transporting your entire, boxed up life from one place to another. By now, you’re doing a combination of heavy lifting, walking and twisting- a perfect workout.
Your neighbour has torn himself away from his game of Dungeons and Dragons long enough to twig that it was you who put the dog turd in their letter box. Have a huge, public fight about how much of a dickhead each of you thinks the other one is, complete with a cardio-friendly bitchslapping match. Throw a cardboard box at your neighbour, which is full of kitchen utensils. In half-error, half-fate, a knife in the box slips out and stabs your neighbour in the eye. Pause for a moment in pure horror, and then grab what you can, running for your life. Feel the burn in your legs as your sprint, never looking back. Use those arm muscles as you propel yourself from the crime scene, and give your tear ducts a workout as you ugly-cry in shock at what just happened. If you are doing this workout at an advanced level, you can also step it up by imagining you are in a montage with the song ‘Smalltown Boy’ by Communards playing in your head.
Reach your new property and bring your heart rate down to resting level. For the next six months, sustain a nervous energy as you wait in anticipation for the knock on your door that will result in your arrest. Tone your shoulders every night during this time by doing more sobbing in horror. Workout your core by being shaken to it. Finally, complete your workout by dancing for joy after seeing a death notice for your old neighbour in the newspaper, who died of a heart attack while dancing to Can’t Touch This.