Tag Archives: asda

Exercise Move of the Month- Going Shopping In Your Pyjamas

Last week, after a lifetime of turning my nose up at other people for doing so, I went to the shop in my pyjamas. It wasn’t what I was expecting it to be- having spent my life worrying about the opinions of others, doing something so depressingly tramp-like made me feel drunk with freedom. Now I’m worried that once I’ve went slack, I’ll never go back. To dressing like a proper person, or humanity.

Anyways, this month’s exercise move is brought to you by both Kerry Katona and grim frozen-food chain, Iceland, and is called ‘Going Shopping in Your Pyjamas’. It comprises cardiovascular activity, and a hefty core workout as you desperately try to find your soul buried somewhere underneath those layers of scum.

Step 1

After warming up your body by watching Jeremy Kyle USA and chain smoking, peel yourself from the sofa. Immediately, you should start to feel the burn in your legs as you bend to lift the copy of TV Quick that fell off your lap as you got up. Tone those legs as you karate-kick your Homer Simpson face slippers that you bought in the Debenhams January Sale ’98 off your feet, and slip into a version of non-brandname Crocs.

Step 2

Work those biceps as you toss some fake tan on your face, ensuring you smear it all down the neckline of your pyjamas to make sure you look super-unclean. Star-jump towards the door and off you go. If you want to really tone those arms, lift a box of cigarettes and your lighter on your way out, and swing your arms as you walk to really get the most from your workout.

Step 3

Arrive at your local supermarket, ensuring that, having decided to travel the four-minute journey by car, you park over two disabled parking bays. Alight your car and feel the burn in your cheeks as others look at you judgementally for being a total dick. Push those pelvic muscles to the limit as you do the obligatory ‘pretending to have a gammy leg’ routine, and push through that shame-sweat by lighting up a cigarette and trying not to cry.

Step 4

Here’s where your cardio really begins. Enter the supermarket, walking round at a leisurely pace, ensure you block off entire aisles with your shopping trolley. Use your trolley’s force against you, maximising your workout by stocking up on Findus Crispy Pancakes and Potnoodles to eat at Bingo. Strengthen those neck muscles by scowling at anyone who looks at you with disgust.

Step 5

Loading the contents of your trolley into your car, do 20 repetitions of arm curls as you chain-smoke as much as possible. Driving off, work out your core as you give onlookers a big snarl-face, and when overhearing a child squealing, ‘Mummy, look- a fully grown woman in her pyjamas! In public!‘, strenghten your core by giving him the finger, and shouting, ‘There’s no Santa!‘.

Step 6

With all that cardiovascular activity of walking at a snail’s pace around your local Asda, you’ve burnt off five calories. Work out your forehead muscles as you look confused while you decide whether you should treat yourself to some McNuggets or a Big Mac Meal with extra lard. After working out your forehead muscles, you opt for both.

Step 7

Park and eat your food. Push yourself like a warrior after realising they forgot the extra sauce you asked for, meaning you have to actually walk into the store to get it yourself. Feel the fat just melt away as you sweat with the embarrassment of hearing people snigger at you and film your pyjama-clad sauce-seeking with their phones. Bastards.

Step 8

Work out those obliques as you climb back into your car and drive home, just in time for Loose Women.

Step 9

Finish strong as you propel your shopping into the kitchen, grabbing a copy of The Sun to mull over and eventually use as an ashtray. Feel the burn in your lungs as you use your cigarette smoke to edge closer to an untimely cancerous death. Eventually, take your heart down to resting level by sitting down and watching an old episode of Coach Trip.

And, rest! Great workout, everyone.

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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!!


Coping With The Recession- How To Make More Money

As I mentioned many times previously, I’m poor as fuck. Being poor is a nightmare- all of your stuff is old and shit, and when people invite you places, you have to say, ‘I can’t because I’m poor’. This is usually a conversation killer.

However, everyone appears to be in the same boat at the minute because of the bastard economy. My computer knows I’m poor (probably because I type things like, ‘Aldi Online Shopping’ and ‘How To Make A Washing Machine Out Of Old Bric-A-Brac’ into Google) and keeps giving me advertised suggestions that are relevant to my situation. The other day, up flashed an advertisement saying, ‘This man made $15million from the recession! Find out what he’s investing in next at www.capitalistwankers.com! with a picture of his smug bastard face beside it. I wouldn’t like to know what he is investing in next because I have morals, but I would like to know his home address so that I can visit him, bash his testicles in with a baseball bat, hold him down while the entire population of African farmers shit on his face, and then take back our money, livelihood and future. Dickhead.

But my advice is to always be positive. And this means trying to find ways to cope with the recession. This subject is likely to be continued with follow-up posts as I have infinite ways to be thrifty and save cash, having spent £23,000 on travelling during the last 3 years while juggling the act of not having a pot to piss in. But here’s a few to keep you going for now:

Become an Entrepreneur

Even though the recession was in full swing in 2011, the amount of new businesses grew 10% from the previous year. Join these entrepreneurs by becoming your own boss, too. Not sure what to do? It’s easy- identify your talents and sell your skills. For example, if you have lots of children, force them to form a band and start shopping them around as the next Jackson 5. Always making up shit racist/sexist jokes and texting them to your mates while also having the ability to grow quirky facial hair? Become Rufus Hound. Gymnastic experience? Become a burglar in banks from films that have lasers to protect their displays. Someone once told you that your Facebook posts were moderately humorous? Start a blog where you write tidbits of gossip and instructional articles about things you know nothing about, under an arsy name that doesn’t even make sense.


If you ever had a loan or credit card, you may have been missold PPI (Payment Protection Insurance), and you could be entitled to reclaim that money. However, don’t bother printing out a simple letter template (here) and sending it off for the cost of a stamp. Instead, ring 0800WeScrewYou or 0845CallousBastards, or log on to www.PreyingOnOldPeople.com to give them half of your money just for sending that same letter themselves. The best bit is, the cunts charge you in advance to claim, which means you’ll be able to pay back most of the unauthorised overdraft charges they caused with your cut of your reclaimed funds.

Stop Paying Your Tax

Refuse to pay income tax. If HMRC get in touch, promptly point out that Vodafone, Amazon and Arcadia don’t pay their tax so you won’t either. I’m sure that will work out great.


Stealing stuff is arguably the easiest way to obtain things without having to pay for them, and chances are, if you work for a huge multi-national, you’re stealing from people every day anyway. To ease your guilty conscience, tell yourself that you’re a modern day Robin Hood or one of the youths involved in the London Riots of 2011 who is just frustrated by your stolen future, innit. Then head straight down to the Apple shop and steal a fucking great big Mac for yourself because stuff equals happiness.


Hooking, known as the world’s oldest profession, has always been an easy way to earn some cash but having a pimp is costly and soon, that greasy £20 note that your John has wiped his nose on will be eaten up by admin fees. Therefore, be your own pimp by getting yourself hooked on drugs, smacking yourself upside the head and shouting ‘Pipe down, bitch!’ and rocking a green snakeskin suit every time you be up in the club, homes. Hey presto- no pimp fees and more money for heroin and crack.

Alternatively, if you don’t want to hook in the traditional sense because the touch of a dirty old man makes you want to cut your skin off, then cut out the middleman (literally) by sawing off one of your hands, sticking a large hook on the end of your bleeding nub, dress up like a pirate and walk around Asda shouting, ‘Arrrr, matey!‘ at little children until a store representative pays you to stay the fuck away. Kerching.

Well, that’s all for today folks, I hope I’ve given you a few ways to save some cash and cope during the recession. I’m off to the hospital to get my nub treated for gangrene. And incase your wondering, I didn’t hook. I sawed my hand off off, fashioned the middle finger into an ‘Up Yours’ and sent to it Rufus Hound for being an absolute prick.

Fuck you, Rufus Hound.

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