Category Archives: exercise

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 Recreate Biggest Loser USA in Your Own Home

If you're blonde, you get a pink t-shirt, if you're a token minority, you get a grey t-shirt. What does the colour of your t-shirt say about the stereotype you are?

If you’re blonde, you get a pink t-shirt, if you’re a token minority, you get a grey t-shirt. What does the colour of your t-shirt say about the stereotype you are?

As a person who takes comfort in the misery of others, I am a longtime fan of Biggest Loser USA. Let me specify right now that my love does not extend the UK version- the reason being that the UK version is a bit stiff and everyone’s all like, ‘Oh I’m obese and I don’t want to be. Please pass the skipping rope and I’ll just get on with it quietly in the corner.’ Meanwhile, I’m thinking ‘Come on, realise that you were in a mentally abusive relationship and cry whilst pulling a car with a large man inside it around a race track a few times to Eye of the Tiger playing in the backround’. I fucking love when they do that.

And that’s not even to mention the fact that Biggest Loser USA always houses the best contestants- Middle America’s finest secret serial-killers and absolute lunatics. I defy you to find a single series’ worth of contestants in which no-one has the potential to have strangled a prostitute and buried them in a shallow grave in some desolate woodland. See, you can’t do it. A Domino’s Pizza survey once revealed that Middle Americans much prefer meat pizzas compared to their East Coast and West Coast counterparts, who tend to opt for cheese and vegetable respectively. I say, if Middle Americans are in any way vaguely represented by the Biggest Loser USA contestants, then they aren’t that fucking fussy and will eat anything, including East and West Coasters.

But honestly, I love Biggest Loser USA so much that I sometimes tend to recreate it from the comfort of my own home. If you want to do this, here’s how.

Weigh-Ins

It has been widely reported that Biggest Loser USA contestants are encouraged to starve themselves of food and water when weigh-ins are looming, in order to achieve the lowest possible weight. Do this at home by developing anorexia and telling yourself that if Biggest Loser USA does it, then medically, there has to be some foundation behind it. Remember, don’t drink any water either as it adds extra pounds. You’re going to be so skinny in that coffin.

Bob/Jillian

Meanie, Queenie and Alison Sweeney

Meanie, Queenie and Alison Sweeney

I fucking love Bob and Jillian. I think my love stems from the fact that I still can’t work out if Bob provides the voice of Mr Garrison from South Park and Jillian Michaels looks like the lovechild of an angular corpse and a Scream mask. Or perhaps it’s just because I’m the type of person who is sustained by inspirational quotes and people grabbing me by the shoulders and saying things like ‘Dammit, bitch! Yo’ Momma didn’t raise no quitter!’ Create your own homemade Bob/Jillian by asking the campest person you know to shout ‘Ching chong, ching chong, fatty fatty, ding dong’ in your face at ten minute intervals, whilst in between, insulting your parenting skills, personality and general ability to cope with life. When you aren’t working out, they can also watch everything you put into your mouth and say, ‘This is how you got to be 400 pounds!‘ and shake their head in disappointment.

Temptations

The inclusion of Temptations in Biggest Loser USA seriously undermines the show’s aims, and considering this is a programme in which people lose in excess of 100lbs in a matter of weeks and claim to be reborn, that’s pretty fucking hard. But again, since all this shit is supposedly conducted under medical surveillance, it probably helps you to lose weight if you conduct your own temptations at home. You can achieve this platform by buying a box of cupcakes, throwing them in the bin and seeing how long you can go without fishing them out, blowing off the fluff, old plasters and dirty needles, and eating them while sitting in front of a mirror with no clothes on.

Workouts

Just fucking cruel.

Just fucking cruel.

Workouts are the very foundation of Biggest Loser USA, I mean, beyond feeling good about yourself by comparing yourself to those in difficulty. To recreate a Biggest Loser USA workout in the comfort of your own home, get a large piece of rope and tie it around your neck like a noose while you run on the treadmill. Have your Bob/Jillian stand in front of you with the other end of the rope in hand and strangle you anytime your running speed drops below 12 miles per hour. When you pass out from lack of oxygen, you get ‘highfived’ from Bob/Jillian and, if you die and get brought back to life, you win a pound deducted from this week’s weigh in.

Breakdowns

Emotional breakdowns are definitely my favourite part of Biggest Loser USA, because no-one emotionally breaks down like Middle Americans that are goin’ through some stuff right now. Brilliant. Have yours by placing a large log and an axe out in your back garden, and getting Bob/Jillian to be particularly stingy with their rope-to-neck circumferance ratio, while belittling you to the point they are spitting the most horrific insults they can muster in your face. Walk off shouting ‘Turn off the goddamn cameras, Goddamnit!’ and batting Bob/Jillian’s arm out of the way as they try to console you unapologetically. Arrive at the back garden and start hitting the large log with the axe while the soundman fades in ‘Skyscraper‘ by Demi Lovato and Bob/Jillian whoops and cheers about how you’ve ‘finally broken down those walls’, even though they were the source of your breakdown in the first place.

If only he channelled that anger into giving Jillian a good boot in the face

If only he channelled that anger into giving Jillian a good boot in the face

Alison Sweeney

There’s no point in doing any of this if you don’t have someone to narrate every step of your journey a la Alison Sweeney. Create your own Alison at home by asking an obese friend to constantly describe your weight loss efforts out loud whilst busting out of maybe-novelty-denim outfits that look like they were made for extras in the video for ‘Dilemma’ by Nelly and Kelly. Even though your friend clearly has their own weight issues, don’t let that put them off talking about you in a dehumanising fashion when they should practice what they fucking preach.

Food

Biggest Loser USA frequently enlists the help of Curtis Stone, celebrity chef, to show the contestants how to eat more healthily. Do a better job than Curtis by marinating chicken in a bit of lemon juice and throwing it on top of some lettuce every time you make a meal, seeing as that’s all he does but in a more time-consuming way anyhow.

Curtis Stone- stocking up on vegetables to make something really bland.

Curtis Stone- stocking up on vegetables to make something really bland.

And there it is, folks- how to recreate Biggest Loser USA in your own home. Don’t weight, try it today! And other puns.

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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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Exercise Move of the Month: Dancing to 99 Red Balloons

It’s that time again, exercise lovers! That’s right, time to drop those pounds and get physical with my Exercise Move of the Month. This month’s move is brought to you by people who use music to define their personalities, particularly wanker-quirks who listen to 80s music and are all like ‘Woooooo, I’m a bit of a mad one because the 1980s are known for producing a particularly bad music genre, and yet I love it, because I like to be ironic!’ and shit like that. I’m terrified that I’m one of those people, but I like to think that if I know I am one of them, then I’m not actually one of them.

I think that as long as I don’t wear a pair of thick-rimmed glasses in a zany colour in any serious capacity, then I’m alright.

Anyways, 99 Red Balloons is an iconic 80’s song, notorious for being a bit shit and hilarious- two of the main qualities that any truly ’80s song must comprise. And dancing to it- well, that just takes you to a new realm of embarrassment. And what does embarrassment equal? Sweating. Which leads to weight loss.

Well, last week I read that sweating has nothing to do with weight loss, so perhaps not. But fuck up. We’re doing it anyway.

Step One

Find yourself at a disco that either doesn’t know it’s shit, or is trying to be kitsch and 80’s to accomodate demand from hipster-types, which is just shit but doesn’t know it. While at this disco, hear the words spoken (at a pace slightly too fast for the music),

‘You and I at a little toy shop

Buy a bag of balloons with the money we’ve got…’

Realise that 99 Red Balloons is coming on and immediately feel the burn in your hands as you turn around, giving the group of hapless cunts you’re out with an enthusiastic thumbs up. You may even want to work out your jaw by opening your mouth with an excited expression that says ‘What a pack of mad twats we are, out at a disco that plays novelty songs. LOLz’. You prick.

Step Two

It gets to the bit of the song where Nena stops talking and the highly synthesized beat kicks in, being as shit as it can absolutely be. Work out those neck muscles by doing the obligatory dance move where you thrust your skull as far from your neck as possible to the beat of the song, much like a chicken having a stroke.

Step Three

When the lyrics and music are in full throttle, the cardiovascular activity beings. Fling yourself around the dancefloor wildly, or, if you’re the type of person who likes to communicate the fact that they don’t fit in through the medium of alternative band t-shirts advertising tours that occured before your birth, you could even mosh a bit, just because you’re a bit of a general dickhead. If you’re a pretty female, you could use this time to bump into other pretty females on the dancefloor passive aggressively. If none of these options occur to you, then just spend your time accidentally knocking my entire pint over me. I don’t mind at all.

Step Four

Wind down from all of that cardio when Nena goes on some spoken ramble that kills the mood completely near the end of the song. Bring your heart rate back down to resting level by standing about awkwardly, swaying from side to side and not looking anyone in the eye. You don’t know the lyrics to this part because they’re too nonsensical for your brain to allow you to remember, but if other people see that you don’t know all of the lyrics, you’ll lose credibility as someone who forces their catalogue of musical knowledge upon others as some sort of pedestal. Best use this time to take a swig of your drink, while giving your cunt friends a thumbs up to imply that you knew the lyrics all along.

Step Five

The song is on it’s last legs. Thank god for that. While Nena finishes with the line, ‘I think of you and let it go…‘, work out your arm muscles by jerking that drink from your mouth and miming along in an obvious manner, ensuring that you keep up the pretence of ‘musical genius’ that you’ve self-styled yourself as. End strong as you give lots more thumbs up to your mates. This not only keeps your reflexes sharp but also serves as a self-gratifying reminder that you’re all kooky as fuck.

And, rest!

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Exercise Move of the Month- Moving House

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:

Step One

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.

Step Two

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.

Step Three

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.

Step Four

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.

Step Five

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.

Step Six

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.

Step Seven

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.

And… rest!

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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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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!!

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Exercise Move of the Month- Breaking Up A Fight Between Two Alcoholics In A Public Setting

Ok, to all you fitness fans out there- this new segment is for you. After trying and testing new exercise moves, I am bringing you step-by-step details to master a new move on a monthly basis to help you achieve your fitness goals.

Regular exercise is very time-consuming so incorporating your fitness regime into your day-to-day activities is really advantageous. That way, you don’t have to buy expensive workout clothing or make room for hours of workout time in your schedule.

This month’s exercise move is brought to you by the decay of our society, and is called ‘Breaking Up A Fight Between Two Alcoholics In A Public Setting’. Here’s how to do it:

Step 1: Go out to an area with lots of foot traffic, such as a local park or town centre.

Step 2: Identify two alcoholics who look to be in the throes of a disagreement. They may be discussing topics such as, ‘Is that a pigeon or a magpie?’, ‘Are those your feet or my feet?’ or ‘Before she died, you’re wife was a slag’. If, however, all is harmonious among the alcoholic community in your vicinity, no worries- just go up to a group of them and say, ‘In theory, can you cook sausages in a kettle?‘ This discussion will provoke a major argument.

Step 3: Once you have two alcoholics fighting in front of you, this is where the real workout begins. Step into the middle of them, placing your hands on each of their heads. They’ll swing at you but will be too drunk to realise that this is futile. You will immediately start to feel your triceps getting a workout, and the more it hurts, the more it works! You may also want to motion your hips in a hula-hoop effect as you avoid their flaccid attempts to punch you in the stomach.

Step 4: Pick up the pace by kicking your legs in the air, cheerleader style, as other alcoholics try to attack you. Note: this should not be attempted by beginners- avoid this step by leaving a bottle of White Lightning propped up against a distant wall, to distract all alcoholics not included in the brawl you are breaking up.

Step 5: Take it back down to resting level by saying loudly, ‘The police have been called, boys. On your merry way now.’

Step 6: Walk home and scrub yourself free of this horrible memory.

Not only is this a great full-body workout for strengthening your core, I defy you not to sweat bucketloads of embarrassment to be involved in such a situation in a public setting. Hours of fun.

Now that’s what I call a workout!

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