Category Archives: body image

Exercise Move of the Month: Being Convinced That Winter Will Be Eternal

The Local Asda.

The Local Asda.

It’s that time of the month again, folks! No, not that time. It’s time to get our legwarmers on and spark up a cigarette to buy yourself a few minute before you have to join in with group-lunges.

This month’s exercise is brought to you by life as we know it crumbling around us, and is called ‘Being convinced that Winter will be eternal’.

Step 1: Hang on by your weather-beaten fingernails to the thought that Winter is nearly over and you don’t have to partake in the endless misery of life beneath a blanket of grey fucking suffocation for much longer. Bring yourself up to gentle pace of yoga-like zen by nodding to convince yourself that the temperatures are gradually getting a little less cold, and do some cardio as you rush out to buy yourself a trench coat to replace that big wooly fucker you had to lug around for the whole of bastarding Winter.

Step 2: Here’s where the workout kicks into high-gear. Wake up mid-to-late-March to find that Mother Nature has sent you a signed, sealed and delivered turd in a box, for there is snow everywhere. After getting your heart rate up with some tears of anger and frustration, spend your morning with some bingo-wing busting activity, such as shovelling the snow off your driveway, realising that you shovelled your driveway-snow on to the main road and having to double-shovel all of that shit too, and pushing your car out of the driveway because the engine has froze.

Hooray for this moment.

Hooray for this moment.

Step 3: Feel your heart pounding as your boss rings to ensure that you weren’t planning to take the day off over a few centimetres of snow. Tone your core as you keep your mouth shut with all the almighty strength you can muster so that you don’t point out that not everyone lives at the office because their wife had an affair.

Step 4: Work up a sweat by going through the motions of an entire day swathed in the sort of attire that even N’Dubs’ Dappy would deem ‘too puffy’ and having to work doubly hard to get to work and back again. Work out those triceps by going into the office toilets and shaking your fists angrily at the thought of all of your colleagues who said they were ‘snowed in’ today, even though they, you and everyone else knows that it’s all a big lie.

Step 5: Give those finger muscles a good heave-ho by sitting on Facebook all night, updating the status of various snow-centric issues, such as ‘Electrics gone off’ and ‘More snow on the way tomorrow’.

Brilliant! Your updates are so useful.

Brilliant! Your updates are so useful.

Step 6: Build up your chesticles by having a heavy heart when the weatherman says ‘It seems like we’ll be having more snow for the forseeable future.‘ Tone your core by resisting the urge to trek to his whereabouts and stab him with your icicle-tears.

Step 7: Wake up and go through these same motions forevermore, for the sun has died.

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How To Apply Fake Tan

Gotta love looking translucent.

Too poor to go on holiday and looking pastier than Patsy Kensit being dry humped by a raw turkey crown? Shit one.

January, the month when suicide numbers hit their annual peak, is a continuous shitstorm of crap. And when it comes to having a sunkissed glow, you’re fucking kidding yourself if you think that’ll be happening anytime soon. No, such thoughts should be relegated to more suitable times of the year, such as the hour of Summer bestowed upon us sometime in May.

However, help is at hand when it comes to faking a tan, thanks to endless fake tanning goods propped up in supermarket shelves like the product equivalent of the Geordie Shore cast- promising to give you a Ronseal Wood Varnish glow should you buy, or punch your fuckin’ lights oot if you don’t. Fake tan, I imagine, is just a little bit rough.

But how do you achieve a natural shade that enhances you without looking too orange? You fucking don’t, alright. But I’m going to slap the bastard on anyway and get drunk quickly so I don’t notice the streaks and will happily fight anyone who dares to look in my direction.

What the fuck are you lookin' at?

What the fuck are you lookin’ at?

Here’s the lowdown on applying fake tan:

Trial and Error

Choosing the right tan is key- therefore, be prepared to try out lots of products before settling on the right one. Do this on the cheap by going to your local Semi-Chem and hotfooting it straight to the non-branded tanning wipes that look like they could also double up as toilet roll when you go camping. Go home and vaguely wipe your limbs with your purchase, taking care to vomit into a designated area, such as a toilet or bin, rather than all over yourself in reaction to the smell of the ‘scented’ wipes. Wait ten minutes and- hey presto- your beige-and-white striped body looks like a mobile version of Ralph Lauren’s Homeware Collection for Spring/Summer Every Year Since It Began, seeing at it looks the fucking same every time the bastard thing comes out. Now, having achieved an adequately stripey, Pikey look, sling your greasy mane into a BumBun (TM), and off you go to Debenhams where you can shoplift luxury brand tanning items to try without repercussion because the security team is unlikely to approach you for fear of being bitten. And contracting HIV.


To achieve an even finish, one must exfoliate to get rid of dry patches and ensure that skin is smooth and even before applying product. Take an industrial sander and carefully apply to soles of feet, which have built up enough hard skin to achieve flipflop status in their own right, and try to close your mouth as much as possible so bits of hard skin don’t accidentally fly into it during sanding and make you die from shuddering. After your feet have been cut to ribbons, apply to industrial sander to elbows, knees and other crusty bits, carefully sweeping up discarded skin-bits to use as snow in next year’s nativity play at your local church. Finally, on delicate areas, such as your face and neck, opt for a dentist’s drill with bits of old carpet glue to it for that ultimate sheen. Failing that, don’t worry about exfoliating because nobody bothers to do it anyway.

A Hand’s Turn

Remember to take great care with your hands when applying tan, as they absorb product quickly and can turn a deep shade of orange within moments of contact with fake tan. Use gloves to combat the dreaded ‘tan hand’ fiasco. Tramp’s Tip: just slap it on without gloves and if anyone asks, tell them you’re best friends with Victoria Beckham and you’ve just returned from an afternoon of feeling her implants.

Victoria Beckham: Keeping it as real as Rev Run sitting in his big fucking mansion pretending to be ghetto.

Victoria Beckham: Keeping it as real as Rev Run sitting in his big fucking mansion pretending to be ghetto.

Care When Drying

Letting your tan dry after application is vital in getting an even finish. So no going outside naked and jumping in puddles, unless it’s absolutely an emergency. Or you want to achieve a nice Vitiligo look. Or you’re a big fan of Michael Jackson and wish to show your undying support for that time he lied about skin-lightening surgery. Or your desired shade of tan is ‘Pale and Dirty Bastard‘.

Stay in the Shade

Once you’ve got that first layer down, it’s all about building up the perfect shade that’s just right for you. Go to B&Q and get yourself a nice portable wood varnish shade chart, and use that as a bible in building your colour from ‘Moments from Asphyxiation’ to ‘Good News, Mr Jones- We’ve Decided To Turn Off Your Wife’s Life Support Machine Today To See What Happens. Don’t Worry, We Reckon She Has A Good Chance Of Living’. And beyond that, it’s up to you. Dare you go as far as ‘Cocksure Whore’, ‘Leather Bag Slag’ or even ‘My Electricity Bill Is Zero Because I’m My Own Lamp Vamp’. Or will you keep it mellow with ‘Michelle Heaton’s Oranger Mate’? The choice is yours*!

Chelsy Davy: A Cunt with a Stupid Tan

Chelsy Davy: A Cunt with a Stupid Tan

*Unless you’re still using those non-branded wipes, in which case, you may as well be drinking bleach. Good luck with that one.

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Exercise Move of the Month: Getting Rid Of Your Christmas Chocolate For A Healthier New Year By Eating It All This Week

New Year, New Me. Not.

Christmas- it’s the most wonderful time of the year for people who can’t stop shovelling processed gunk in their gormless pieholes. Me, for example. And it’s great- not only do people keep bringing you little parcels of wrapped and ribboned colon cancer, but you’ll also not be able to resist picking up similar digestive system-ruiners when you call to your local Tesco 4,071 times during the month of December. This year, I splashed out on a half-baked chocolate log, whose box squealed ‘half the fun is baking your own Log! Just place me in the oven for 35 minutes and spend the rest of your afternoon decorating me with the icing turfed into this box as an afterthought!’ Brilliant, I thought at the time, I’ll be like a fucking Yankee Candle Christmas display baking this bastard, and off I went to buy it. Only a few days later, resentfully lobbing it into the oven (which I was standing well back from because the amount of Christmas alcohol is my system left me in danger of going on fire) and sitting on the icing packet to try and liquidise it did I realise that I’d paid double the price for half the product. Needless to say, I’m never fucking baking again.

But that’s what Christmas is all about- stuffing your already nearly vomitting self with crap that’s so full of additives that when they dig up your corpse decades after death, it will still be stuck to your skeletal pelvis, perfectly intact. That mother ain’t never going to break down, bitch.

So this month’s exercise move is brought to you by those people who innocently went down to their local precinct to do some shopping and were unwittingly filmed by a regional news team from behind, and later turned on the 6 o’clock news and had the misfortune of seeing their arse and muffin top splayed across the TV screen with statistics about obesity plastered over them, and is called ‘Getting Rid of Your Christmas Chocolate For A Healthier New Year By Eating It All This Week’.

Here’s how to do it:

Step 1

Start off slow by lying on the sofa in your pyjamas all day, ensuring your heart is at resting rate. Small bursts of activity, such as switching over Friends when you realise that it’s going to be one of those fucking episodes full of clips from past bloody episodes, or taking time out to work out your thumbs by joining well-meaning but definite bullshit groups on Facebook like ‘New Year, New Me’ and ‘Slimming World 4 Lyf’. If your thumbs are starting to feel strained, that only means its working.

Step 2

Your friend texts you, ‘It’s January, lazybones! Fancy a game of tennis?’ Work out that chest and shoulder area by sobbing quietly to yourself. Take your workout up a gear by ugly crying AND texting back, ‘Death in the family, you cheeky fuckbag. Piss off.’ Speaking of piss, you cannot deny that days in your pyjamas have left you smellier than an old Odor-Eater that Christina Aguilera was using as a tampon, so kick your workout into an even higher gear by heaving yourself off the sofa for a whore’s bath. Feel the burn!

Step 3

During your whore’s bath, you catch sight of yourself in the mirror and realise that all of the Christmas overindulgence has left you looking like Kirstie Alley after she ate Clare from Steps. Work those forehead muscles as you frown a lot at the state of yourself.

If only we could all have the natural peak physique of Ron from Biggest Loser

If only we could all have the natural peak physique of Ron from Biggest Loser

Step 4

Work those calves and thighs as you lunge to the kitchen with the intention of throwing out all junk food as you vow to make a lifestyle change once and for all. When you start to feel the burn your legs, step your workout up a notch by grabbing the Iceland carrier bag that you ironically carried all of your colon-blowing purchases home with after buying them enthusiastically mere days prior, to throw them away in. Then, when your core is least expecting it, stop lunging and grabbing, and take you heart down to a resting level again by focusing on your neck area as you shake your head upon realising that you’re far too much of a repulsive addict to throw out your junk food stash.

Step 5

Engage in some heart-healthy cardio as you feel you heart back-flip with delight as you decide to get rid of all of your junk food by eating it now instead of throwing it in the bin like you really should.

Step 6

End strong with your workout as you take your Iceland bag full of Intestine Polyfiller and trudge back to the sofa to find that part of the seat that your arse has indented. As you settle in for an afternoon of Maury’s Best Bits, bring your heart back to resting level as you toss the sugarcoated gout down your stinking piehole.

And, rest. Great workout, boys and gals!

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Diet Of The Month- The Cabbage Soup Diet

The Cabbage Soup Diet* is the epitome of fad dieting- not only can you lose up to 10lbs per week chucking the gruesome concoction down you gullet, it is also known to have some unsavoury side-effects that will make you want to curl up into a little ball and pray for death.

Critics have claimed that prolonged usage of this diet as a weightloss tool is dangerous and unsustainable. It may also lead to future health risks, and can be fatal. But let’s be honest, ladies- we’ve all had diets that came with a certain level of risk. The risk of death is hardly going to stop us.

But how can I start to relay my week on this diet without first giving you the recipe, including a few tweaks that I’ve made to make this diet ultra effective? Here you are:


Half a head of cabbage, knifed to death

One fluid fuckload of water

A bottle of Diet Coke (every female dieter’s good luck charm)

One dress that doesn’t quite zip up at the back that makes you feel like a big fat failure every time you try the bastard on

Seasoning of your choice (I choose to rip up cigarettes and thrown them straight in)

A bucket of failed dreams

A pinch of knowing deep down this isn’t going to work, but you’re so unhappy with your life that you’re going to keep going with it and other, similar wastes of time to distract yourself from death. Possibly from something colon-related due to fucking idiotic diets like The Cabbage Soup Diet.

The other half of that head of cabbage, because you’re probably not going to use it in anything else. It’s probably going to go off soon so you may as well chuck it in.

Day 1

Having used the start of my diet today as an excuse to eat four cakes last night, I felt full when I got up this morning and decided to have the obligatory ‘going full throttle on this diet to the point that you ignore the unsustainableness of voluntary starvation’ day of only surviving on the bits of toothpaste that I accidentally swallowed while brushing my teeth. After a day of getting through by relying on the adrenaline of believing that this day is the first day of the rest of my life, and other bullshit diet mantras, I went to bed without eating anything. Hooray.

Day 2

I woke up to the sound of my uterus weeping with future sadness that diets like this make me infertile, I just don’t know it yet. Poking round the pot of soup that I enthusiastically made two days earlier, I ladled myself a bowl with bits that weren’t touching the skin that was floating on top, grungily. Afterwards, I had that moment when my body realises that food exists and can’t live without it anymore- I was about to collapse with starvation. So I did what any respecting dieter would do during a moment such as this; I went to the gym and ran ’til I puked. All that came out was a white flag. Winning.

Day 3

After two full days on the Cabbage Soup Diet, I feel like a zombie that was put into a blender, sliced into little tiny pieces, after which my bodily debris are remoulded into the words ‘Without health, life is not life; it is only a state of langour and suffering- an image of death. -Buddha’. But that just means its working. Had the rest of the pot of soup today- as the Cabbage Soup Diet permits eating as much of it as you like- and then made another pot, this time seasoning the entire bastard with my tears.

Day 4

Died for a while today but unfortunately, the ambulance got to me on time and they restarted my heart so I’m back to porridge- which is ironic because I’m actually not allowed any. Bastard medical professionals. I would sue them if I could speak. Or function normally.

Day 5

I enjoyed a full pot of soup today while sitting alone in the dark, seeing my life belongs to cabbage now and cabbage wanted the lights off. After watching an episode of Loose Women in which Renee Zellweger raved about the Cabbage Soup Diet, crediting it to her weight loss for her role as Bridget Jones, I promptly travelled to the studios and punched her in the face thrice- once for Bridget Jones, once for the popularisation of big knickers, and once for anything else I’d forgotten. Then I shook her hand for spreading the word about the Cabbage Soup Diet– it’s great. I’ve never been happier.

Day 6

I was delighted to discover I lost 4 stones so far this week on the Cabbage Soup Diet– all of that punishment was well worth the effort. I’d go shopping and buy myself a whole new wardrobe to celebrate, but I’m now confined to a wheelchair. I’m just another woman trying to have it all- us women, what are we like? If we aren’t constantly on the hunt for a man to slap us on the arse and tell us we’re pretty, we’re reading Fifty Shades of Grey and giggling about how empowered we are to be female and reading porn.

Day 7

Died again. On the upside, my dress that was too tight now fits me, and the undertaker is currently dressing my dead corpse in it for my funeral. Just to make a point about how much weight I’ve lost, I’m getting small children to carry my coffin, and then erect my rigour mortis-ridden body on to a set of scales so that everyone can see how much I weighed before I’m laid to rest. I’m going to be the Belle of the Ball. Result!

*Don’t do it.

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How To Be A Gentleman

Recent television comedy hit, How To Be A Gentleman, is the sort of gripping stuff that you stick on while you record something else that you actually want to watch so that you can later fast-forward through the advertisements- it’s that great.

But the sentiment behind the show is spot on- where have all the gentlemen gone? Considering a recent survey concluded that, aside from ‘a rich man without family who only has two weeks to live’, ‘a gentleman’ is considered optimum marriage material for women today who still don’t think marriage is a load of bollocks.

So there you have it, guys- women want gentlemen. But how does one achieve ‘gentleman‘ status? Are you the sort of male who puts bros before hos? Do you have two mobile phones- one for everyday use, and one for drug dealing and general cheating on your main bitch? And do you like to hit it and quit it?

If you answered ‘yes’ to any of the above- this guide is for you. Here’s how to be a gentleman:

Personal Hygiene

A gentleman must maintain excellent personal hygiene standards at all times. This can be achieved by spritzing half a bottle of Lynx into your bath water, then dousing yourself in the other half when you’ve finished bathing. Don’t forget to spray some on the arse of your trunks too- women think this is charming, and definately won’t make fun of you to their mates behind your back.


Being committed to a refined appearance is key to being a gentleman. Just look at Scott Disick– he dresses well, his attire is perfectly pressed, he even has a cane to complete many an outfit. It doesn’t matter that behind that twat-exterior, he’s definately killed a few women is his time, because he looks the part. Choose outfits that similtaneously say, ‘Can I buy you a drink, gorgeous?’ and ‘I would like to represent myself in this court of law, your honour. I may not have a law degree, but I certainly did not spike that woman’s drink- she consented to that shot of rohynol and the truth will speak for itself.‘ *Creepy sneer.


A gentleman always courts a lady in a dignified and respectful manner. Take your good lady to the Burger King of her choosing, and always remember to pull out her chair (if not bolted to the ground), patting her on the arse as she sits down. Remember to order on behalf of your company- selecting a salad so your date feels hefty and embarrassed by the hint that they are a general dodger of salads. A gentleman always pays, but with the expectation of equal rights, this has the potential to be awkward. Take the sting out of the situation by rolling up a few notes and stuffing them down the cleavage of your lady friend, saying, ‘You’ve earned that, petal’. Make sure to allow your hand to linger around the cleavage area for an inappropriate amount of time, saying, ‘Just getting my money’s worth’  if your date looks uncomfortable.


A gentleman can be courteous by asking questions to acquaintances, both male and female, building rapports and forging friendships wherever he can. For example, while most adults would write off teenagers as being immature, try to strike up a conversation with your younger counterparts and find common ground. You could say ‘Oh, your studying GCSE double-award Science? Tell me, how does one make chloroform in a kitchen sink, and how long would it knock your victim out for? And is there anyway to erase fingerprints? I’m just asking for a friend. I’ll give you a tenner if you pretend this conversation never happened.’


A gentleman is always respectful and helpful when possible. When he encounters a pregnant lady, it is advisable to not only open a door for her, but also say something to the tune of, ‘Your pregnancy weight hasn’t wrecked that arse. I’d still give you an eight-and-a-half’, so that the lady feels respected yet attractive.


A gentleman never motherfucking swears. Even if he drops a fucking great big bloody large bastard of a piano on his cunting foot and it hurts like a fucking motherfucker, he still smiles and doesn’t acknowledge that the bastard has just bastarding crippled him. Fuck. Etc.


A gentleman steers clear of political, religious and other potential controversial topics so as not to offend or upset anyone. If others persist in bringing up controversial views, the power of ‘shrugging it off’ is a virtue. Your company may say things like ‘Man up, you prick’ or ‘You aren’t a real man’, but laughing it off and not getting involved in petty arguments will ultimately be more pleasing for all involved.

And you can torch that mother’s house later on.

Where’s my petrol?

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How To Be A Heartbreaker

Recently, I wrote about how to mend a broken heart for all of you loveless Lucilles out there who can’t seem to tie that love-lasso tight enough in the neck area to send your victim to sleep (what a waste of Rohypnol). But what about those of you who don’t have a broken heart, but rather, would like to be a heartbreaker? 

Would you like to be a modern day Arthur ‘The Fonz’ Fonzerelli? Does the thought of aggravated sexual assault leave you all shook up, not shaken up? And when it comes to love, are you too cool for school or erm… not… that cool. Sorry, I choked under the weight of all these puns.

Here are my tips for being a heartbreaker.

Thou Shall Do The Face

In the song, When You’re in Love with a Beautiful Woman by Dr. Hook, he describes his relationship with a good-looking woman, which over time, causes him to ‘watch her eyes’ and ‘look for lies’. Assuming he isn’t a doctor of optometry and such acts are not routine medical procedures, the song describes how one’s heart is easily broken when in love with someone beautiful.

Therefore, in order to be a heartbreaker, you need to cover up that nasty and invest in some rhinoplasty, and other surgical procedures that didn’t rhyme there. If you aren’t a natural beauty and think inner beauty is more important, buy yourself a copy of Heat and try to survive an hour without crying, then putting a sheet over your face and refusing to take it off until you get cheek implants, or other nonsensical vital surgery. Think of surgery as an investment, as you can always con your money back from one of the dirty old pensioners lurking about the Playboy mansion pretending to enjoy chasing after young women but, given the chance, would much rather prefer to swap that Viagra for a night of checkers and ‘accidentally’ knocking down small children while clumsily reversing around a supermarket aisle end on their mobility scooter.


Thou Shalt Not Let Thyself Go

What’s the point in having the face of a delightful angel, and the body of an Angel Delight fifteen-packet-a-day addict? In order to be a heartbreaker, your body needs to be in the best shape possible, which can be achieved in one of two ways: A) Liposuction and other surgeries- which is costly and require some investment or (my favourite) B) Diet and exercise. Diet and exercise is no fun when conducted safely, at a reasonable pace and with realistic expectations. No- instead, you must go full throttle at an exercise routine; pulling a car on a rope, running marathons daily and listening to Eye of the Tiger on repeat as you flail wildly around the gym. And how do you keep your energy up whilst in training? Certainly not with food, because your diet only consists of water, carrots and the odd rice cake on your birthday. Yay, this is so worth it.

It doesn’t matter if starvation and burn out diet and exercise leaves you more irritable than a bear that has just been woken from a deep sleep by being poked repeatedly in the testicles with a sharp twig- if you’re thin and beautiful, people won’t care if you’re a total cunt.

Thou Shalt Not Waste Time Being Personable

To reiterate my last point, being thin and beautiful makes you exempt from the expectation of possessing a personality. Just look at Angelina Jolie– if she looked like Dawn French, she would have been shot long ago. So, just work on that outer beauty for now, petal. This is great advice.

Just remember: Inner Beauty is Not Your Duty- Pretty Exterior Makes You Superior. Repeat this mantra every morning to yourself in the mirror, or when anyone calls you a cheap whore in public and shouts that you were only after their money. Bastard.

Thou Shalt Not Give A Fuck About Others

In order to be a heartbreaker, one must break hearts- that means people are going to get hurt. But hey, who cares, right? Have you ever watched an action film in which thousands of civilians were carelessly killed and then never referenced again because the whole film centres around the protagonist being hailed as a hero in the end? Yeah, well that’s kind of what this is like.

My suggestion for not giving a fuck about others is to drink a lot until you’re numb and dancing around a stripper pole. Or if all else fails, rebrand milking people dry for their money in exchange for sex and companionship by telling people that ‘Beauty is Power’ and other shit like that. Here’s to you, Kimora Lee Simmons. You shhhhlllaggg.

So, to sum up- Look good and have little to say except a prompt ‘Fuck off’ to anyone who calls you out on your shit.

I’m going to be reincarnated as a toilet.

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Exercise Move of the Month- Going to Asda on a Saturday Afternoon

Hello, fitness enthusiasts! It’s time for another installment of Exercise Move of the Month. This month’s exercise move is brought to you by borderline poverty and the rise in corporate power dictating our lives, resulting in the majority of the general public having to do their food shopping at the local bastard Asda on Saturday afternoons.

If you’ve never been to Asda on a Saturday afternoon, lucky fucking you. If you have, then you’ll know that this exercise move is an intense cardiovascular workout, but more so, gets your blood pumping as you fear a stress-induced stroke coming along. Fantastic! Here’s how to do it:

Step 1

Run out of food on a Friday night. Realise you need to go to Asda tomorrow and it’s going to be fucking bunged. Contract diarrhea due to anxiety, which is going to get your metabolism going. Already, you should feel your facial muscles start to work as you start to feel permanent stress wrinkles forming and you develop a facial tic.

Step 2

Get in the car and drive ten feet to your local Asda, because in Asda, walking is frowned upon. Drive around the carpark looking for spaces, of which there are, unsurprisingly, none. Shout obscenities at a man who parks in a disabled spot who vacates his car with no physical disability. Feel your arms burn as you shake your fists at strangers and give lots of people the finger. Find a spot and rejoice. Vacate your car and feel a stranger attack you from behind while shouting, ‘You stole my space, you schlllaaaaggg!‘ Have a mini-wrestling match with said stranger, and feel the fat melt away.

Step 3

You are forced to use a basket as there are no trolleys and all of the disability scooters are in use by the obese, while the enderly have no option but to walk annoyingly and block off entire aisles. Incorporate yoga into your workout as you try to breathe and count to ten in an effort to stop yourself from punching an old woman shuffling slowly in front of you while shouting to her friend, ‘Ethel, what time does the bingo start?’.

Step 4

Make it round the vegetable, meat and dairy aisles in double quick time, working out your legs and torso as you twist and wriggle your way through crowds of hapless cunts. Apply the principles of boxing to your workout as you jab your hands through the crowds to grasp the items on your shopping list. Float like a gymnast, cartwheeling around baby vomit, smashed jars of Piccalilli and pensioner piss lurking on the floors that no-one has bothered to clean up.

Step 5

Make it round the shop with half of your desired items in your basket (the other half were out of stock) and head for the checkouts. Realise that there will be a wait of at least four months until you can purchases your items. Work out your upper arms, thighs and torso by constructing a makeshift teepee or tent equivalent out of stale baguettes cooked fresh today in the bakery aisle to live in until you can purchase your items next season. Contemplate singing Kumbaya with your fellow shoppers to keep everyone’s spirits up but, seeing as they are a pack of absolute bastards, give your facial muscles a good workout instead by sobbing softly to yourself.

Step 6

Many moons later, pay for your items and leave the shop. Employ breathing techniques as you are forced to hold your breath for a good minute-and-a-half to avoid dying of lung cancer from passive smoking as you are caught up in a cloud of smoke from people in glorified/actual pyjamas who insist upon ignoring the ‘No Smoking’ signs and/or the law that dictates that you cannot smoke in the fucking lobby of a shopping centre.

Step 7

Miraculously make it home unscathed without hitting a single car in the notoriously tight car park. Drag your waterless sack of cells and skin into the house. Look through your bags and realise that even though you won that smackdown for the last bag of potatoes, that priest snuck into your basket while you weren’t looking and took them anyway. Grab a knife, get in your car, and head back to Asda.

And… rest! What a workout!!


Lose Weight the Easy Way with the Lemon Detox Diet!

The Lemon Detox Diet rose to fame when Beyonce adopted it to slim down for her role in Dreamgirls, with which she lost 20lbs in two weeks. The diet comprises a concoction of maple syrup, lemon juice, water and cayenne pepper, downed periodically, and nothing else- effectively making this a 60-calorie per day plan, rather than the 2,000 to 2500 that most doctors recommend for the average person.

Yes, it is difficult to adhere to, but reportedly produces excellent results. This month, I am going to follow the Lemon Detox Diet for 7 days (the recommended duration for Lemon Detox Diet beginners), and keep a record of my results, so that you, too, can lose weight and feel great.

Day 1

Breakfast- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Lunch- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Dinner- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Day 1 of the diet has been easier than I first anticipated. Yes, there isn’t a whole lot of nourishment involved, but I felt less bloated as the day elapsed and had more energy in the afternoon. At one stage, I felt a manic high to the extent that I went outside and kissed a complete stranger just because the voices in my head instructed me to. The stranger had me arrested and when I resisted, I was tazered by a police official- but I only got a caution, probably because I’ve lost a stone already and everybody wants a piece.

Day 2

Breakfast- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Lunch- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Dinner- A DELUXE glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water (DELUXE version recipe: A whole bottle of maple syrup, drank straight, and then a good cry about life)

After my manic high of yesterday, I must admit that I felt slightly lower today. While I have more energy, I’m also feeling on the cusp of a nervous breakdown. Weighed myself and have lost 6lbs already, after just two days on the Lemon Detox Diet, but then I lifted the scales and threw them out them out the window, severely injuring my elderly neighbour. Accompanied neighbour to the hospital for treatment and tried to suffocate her with an inflatable headrest in the ambulance. No idea why. Then I went around the children’s ward shouting, ‘Santa isn’t real’. Also starting to worry that when I go to jail, I’ll be so thin and gorgeous from doing the Lemon Detox Diet that I will surely be one of the prison bitches. Can’t sleep with the worry of this.

Day 3

Breakfast- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Lunch- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Dinner- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Weighed myself and lost another 16lbs since yesterday. At least, that’s what happened in the weird hallucinogenic dreams I’ve been having, which is brilliant because it’s kind of like going to see a 3D film, without the expense of leaving my bed. Coincidentally, that’s where I have spent the entire day due to blinding migranes- have no idea why I’m getting them, must be the weather. Delightfully though, while I’m now completely bedridden, my pyjamas looks fantastic on me. Ordered myself a medical drip online so that I don’t have to waste energy on lifting a cup of dinner to my mouth. Winning.

Day 4

Breakfast- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Lunch- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Dinner- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

I think I’ve finally arrived at a realisation that I don’t need food- I’m just a stronger human being in general now. Got my drip installed and fashioned a spare carrier bag into a colostomy bag to collect waste, seeing as I can’t seem to get out of bed anymore. Really strange that I can’t seem to move from bed. Perhaps, subconciously, I don’t want to outshine all other women out in public with how amazing I look. Lost another 8lbs today, for a total of 30lbs in 4 days. Feel like the Chuck Norris of diets.

Day 5

Breakfast- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Lunch- A small insect

Dinner- Jail food

Disasterous day. Was doing well on my diet but coughed due to an inexplicable virus I seem to have contracted, causing me to accidentally inhale and swallow a small insect that was living under my bed. This sudden influx of food sent me on a massive sugar high, and drunk on insects and being a supermodel, I paraded through my local Tesco Metro in a bikini with four glowsticks and the word ‘Fajita’ painted across my torso. Eventually, a concerned shopper interrupted my breakdancing to enquire if I was feeling ok (probably because he admired my new figure), and I bit him. His coat smelt a bit like chicken chow mein, and it took me back. But now I can’t go back. Spent the night in jail.

Day 6

Breakfast- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water (Jail version: substitute the maple syrup, lemon and cayenne pepper for nothing)

Lunch- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water (Jail version: substitute the maple syrup, lemon and cayenne pepper for nothing)

Dinner- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water  (Jail version: substitute the maple syrup, lemon and cayenne pepper for nothing)

Spent today in jail after assaulting a man in Tesco Metro yesterday. Unable to access all ingredients to fully adhere to diet, but have chosen adequate substitutes. Tried to do a Shawshank mid-afternoon but the spoon broke so used one of my jutting ribs to make a dent in the wall. Realised this will take me ages. Thankfully, was able to shimmy between the bars in my cell at dusk and escaped. Went home and made myself a midnight feast of three shakes of pepper. Yum.

Day 7

Breakfast- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Lunch- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Dinner- A glass of maple syrup, lemon, cayenne pepper and water

Final day of the diet was easier than expected, as I have started to rationalise the constant migraines as a punishment for being less worthy than everyone else. Weighed myself and was delighted to discover that have lost of total of 72lbs in 7 days on the Lemon Detox Diet– how wonderful! Going to celebrate tomorrow by buying a babygro and wearing it as a playsuit, as I am now a size ‘2’. Sorry, size ‘aged 2’ (and above). Honestly, I’m getting annoyed already that three year old children are the same size as me- feel so fat. Doing another week of the diet to slim down to size ‘aged 6-8 months’.

Well, that was my week on the Lemon Detox Diet. I lost 72lbs, but gained a whole new perspective on life.  Sidenote: If you see me on Crimewatch, it was all just a misunderstanding. No need to ring the hotline… Good luck on your journey towards health and happiness!

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Do the Raw Food Diet- And Lose Weight Today!

While I’m not a fan of fad diets as they are generally unsustainable, from time to time I find myself craving fresher, less stodgy food- particularly after Christmas or holidays, as we all tend to indulge a bit more than usual. When I get these cravings, I know it’s time to put myself on the Raw Food Diet.

The Raw Food Diet is a lifestyle choice in which the only food consumed is uncooked, or cooked below 47 degrees Celcius (118 Farenheit). That means an abundance of vegetables, fish and natural foodstuffs, and no ready meals, chemical-laded foods and even meat (unless you like it raw). Generally, cooking food extracts nutrients, and therefore, the Raw Food Diet is based on the belief that the more simplistic and akin to it’s natural state food is, the better it is for you.

I like to do the diet for a week at a time, and then reintroduce my normal diet gradually, so as not to shock my system, which helps me to lose weight and feel better. Here is a typical week, including recipes and my own thoughts, so that you can do the same:

Day 1

Breakfast: A carrot

Lunch: A carrot, and then another half of a carrot

Dinner: Another bastard carrot

Late night snack: An Indian takeaway from Taj Palace

Day 1 of the diet is usually the most sparse food-wise, seeing as I’m feeling immense back-fat shame. I usually survive on carrots while lying to myself that I don’t need food ever again. The only reason I had the takeaway is because my body was dry-retching with hunger, and to be fair, the Taj Palace was on the news the other week for giving people food poisoning so it’s likely they’ve undercooked my food anyway. If it makes me involuntarily vomit, then technically I’ve consumed negative calories while not being bulimic- so it’s all good.

Day 2

Breakfast: Nothing

Lunch: A carrot

Dinner: Carrot hot-dogs, which is basically a carrot wrapped in a lettuce leaf

Back on the wagon after that 4,000 calorie slip-up I had last night. Starved myself all morning to make up for it, which is definately the way to go. Had another carrot and then realised that I miss the fun of cooking so invented carrot hot-dogs (see above for recipe) and just entered a new realm of delight. Can’t see me having cooked food ever again, frankly. Loving life.

Day 3

Breakfast: Carrot Special K, which is just bits of carrot swimming in water

Lunch: A carrot

Dinner: Luxurious carrot hot-dogs, which is the same as above carrot hot-dog recipe but replace lettuce for four slices of bread (don’t worry, I left a lot of carrot on my plate to balance out the calories)

Late night snack: Four 2 litre bottles of Tesco Value Cider, two packs of cigarettes and a carrot dipped in lard

Empirical research suggests that Day 3 is the most difficult day of a week-long cleanse as it is just prior to the mid-way point. Well, actually I just made that up, which is pretty great considering I’m all sorts of drunk and I’m fairly certain I’m about to die of malnutrition. Had a carrot dipped in lard just to keep me grounded, yo.

Day 4

Breakfast: A carrot, which I vomited up so put me down for nothing

Lunch: One of everything on McDonalds’ Saver Menu, a block of cheese in it’s entirety and nine paracetemols

Dinner: A carrot

Unfortunately, while the Raw Food Diet claims to do wonders for inner health, sometimes my body finds it hard to adapt and this morning, I inexplicably woke up feeling quite queasy. After my breakfast carrot came back up which left me with a wealth of calories to spare, I decided to change my diet slightly to incorporate some new healthy choices. McDonalds’ Saver Menu is notorious small in portion, and therefore, having one of everything is a guilt-free choice. Plus, their new marketing campaign is always saying things like ‘healthy’ and ‘organic’, and they wouldn’t lie about something like that. Had a nice carrot to top-off a day of virtue.

Day 5

Breakfast: A carrot

Mid-morning snack: A solitary cream cracker

Mid-morning snack: A cake

Mid-morning snack: Four mini-snickerses

Mid-morning snack: The end of a cigarette that I fished out of a public bin and smoked

Mid-morning snack: Three blueberry maxi-muffins and their edible wrappers, which, as it turns out, weren’t edible

Lunch: Half a carrot

Dinner: Roast rack of carrot with carrot mash, served with baby carrots on the side and topped with carrot foam

No-one said the Raw Food Diet would be easy. After days of living off raw and partially cooked food, you, like me, may find yourself craving your old vices and it is perfectly fine to allow yourself a treat in moderation. This is why I smoked a stranger’s cigarette end rather than having a whole one. As for the other snacks, I did fourteen-and-a-half minutes of ‘Dance it off with Vicky Binns’ to burn those calories off, and then some. Probably.

Day 6

Breakfast: A tub of butter and a family-sized box of smokes

Lunch: A horse

Dinner: The entire ready meal aisle of Asda, followed by the contents of the really depressing part of Asda’s freezer aisle full of frozen pies

It is widely known fact that having a once-weekly ‘cheat day’ helps you to achieve longevity in a strict lifestyle change. Even though I had managed to make it to Day 6 of a Raw Food Diet week without cravings, I thought I would benefit from having a break, not that I need it. However, while I have allowed myself a day off, please note I did not have snacks, as it would just be too much for a picker like me.

Day 7

Breakfast: A carrot

Lunch: A carrot

Dinner: A carrot

As today was the final day of my Raw Food Week, I gave it one final push to ensure I avail of the maximum health benefits afforded after enduring such a difficult task. Feeling better already, and have decided give up cigarettes and smoke carrots as a healthy alternative in future. While I have enjoyed this week, it was challenging and difficult at times. I’m so proud to have completed my cleanse successfully and urge others to give it a go- your body will thank you.

Update: Just found out I’ve got diabetes. Getting my arm amputated this week, which is crap because it’s the arm I use to smoke carrots with. Never mind.


How To Appear More Intelligent When You’re Thick As Two Short Planks

Intelligence is a valuable commodity in today’s world; not only are the world’s resources running out and there is limited space on the lifeboat, but appearing intelligent means you get away with all sorts of crap. Just look at Jeremy Clarkson- if he wasn’t awarded a badge of intellectual superiority by the viewing public of Men & Motors, someone would have shot him a long time ago.

The great news is, you don’t actually have to be intelligent to appear so. It is merely an illusion, just like appearance, and if the prostitute formerly known as Katie Price can plaster on enough make-up to be mistaken for a sexually abused ’80s mannequin and be applauded for it, then why shouldn’t we pad out our intelligence in the same way?

But of course you don’t want to learn or self-improve in any way that may add value to your life. As always, I’m on hand to help you fake it ’til you make it, with handy tips to allude intelligence while still remaining as dumb as a box of rocks that had fallen on their heads as baby rocks. Yes.

Figure out how to use your and you’re

As social media is a prevalent source of communication, the way we write helps to build an overview of our intelligence. Therefore, if you’re the type of person who writes in TXT MSG SPK even though your word count is uncapped, you just look like a buffoon. If you are normal, then my only advice is: learn to use ‘your’ and ‘you’re’. The grammar police are watching you and, seeing as people who take delight in pointing out grammar mistakes are generally imbecilic and petty, they will take you down.

If you are unclear on their meanings, ‘your’, is as in ‘Mr and Mrs Jones, I have some bad news- your daughter is dead. I’m sorry to be the one who has to tell you, but she was addicted to heroin and kept it from you because of your heart condition. She has been using since your son committed suicide after he was found guilty of embezzling your life savings, and she could not cope with your lack of communication towards her any longer. She took your car and drove it off the cliff at the end of your road. Police arrived too late on the scene after your neighbour alerted us. All we have found from the debris so far is a solitary note, saying, ‘I killed myself because your so disappointed in me,’ which is obviously a misuse of the word ‘your’, but let’s not split hairs over it’.

You’re’ is as in, ‘You’re the reason I never made anything of my life, and one day, when you’re not expecting it, I’m going to put rat poison in your soup and bury your body parts all over the house’. Learn how to use these two grammar sneaks and you’ll be the toast of Twitter.

Start wearing glasses

Humans respond to visual clues when perceiving others in a certain way, so wearing glasses will help you appear smarter. You can also let them slide down your nose discreetly, and when making a point, push them back up to make others think, ‘Ooooh, that geek means business’. Glasses are expensive so you could probably get them free on the NHS if you threw some acid into your eyes, but then you’ll be bound for life to be ridiculed in the street for being a specky four-eyes. Therefore, you might be best making a circle with your thumb and forefinger, and rimming your eyes with your hands. Et voila, clever on the cheap.

Read more

Reading more is a great way to acquire more knowledge. But you don’t want to spend your precious time reading words like a big norman- you want to give the illusion of reading without having to be bothered actually doing it. Therefore, drilling peepholes in all of your books so you can still watch Jeremy Kyle USA while pretending to read, or reading encyclopaedias that are big enough to hide your copy of Pick Me Up will give others the impression that you’re reading, when you’re still just a big imbecile. If watching Youtube clips of dogs falling into ponds is your poison, tilting the screen away from everyone in the room, and asking others, ‘What is the BBC News website address?’, while actually typing in ‘Funny dog clips’ to Google will have everyone fooled. Remember, not all internet sources are accurate. Except this blog- it’s all fucking true here.

Don’t forget your street smarts

As many aggressive drug-addicts will tell you, having ‘street smarts’ is just as important as being ‘book smart’ in the world of intellect. Being street smart includes, but is not limited to, being irrationally suspicious of people at all times, being hardened against tales of woe from all societal groups in need and just being a general cruel bastard in everyday life. Street smarts are great because they’re a win/win: either other people with street smarts think you’re smart and give you respect, or the rest of us are too scared to point out that ‘street smarts’ are just a defence mechanism from years of mistreatment and not enough love from your parents, for fear that you will absolutely destroy us by prising our eyes out of their sockets with your cold, dead hands.

So there you have it- four tips designed to make you appear more intelligent while also preserving a life of blissful ignorance. I disgust me.

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