It’s not true you know, I usually rouse out of my pit between 10.30 hours and midday. Or if I fall asleep on the sofa shooting stuff about the time I get cold, I then wander up to the boudoir and sleep for a few more hours till I can be arsed to drag my self out of bed and upright.
I did that this morning, I also somehow managed to persuade myself that I needed to go to the gym and that today was to be the main workout this week.
This, as it transpires was probably not the best idea I have had today.
I decided what I needed to do was to return to my circuit training. Something I have not done since the end of November. All I will say on the result of my circuit training is that the walk across the car park back to the car ( my mothers small fiat as mine is still not fixed) must have made for amusing viewing to the people on the treadmills, all finished off with me banging my head as tried to fold myself into the Fiat.
My legs have turned to some sort of liquid and developed a consciousness all of their own and really have no respect for where I want them to go or what I want them to do. They also don’t seem to get along very well and want to travel off in different directions whilst shaking in an uncontrollable fashion.
I'm currently sat in the office drinking green tea and listening to Def Leppard, a bit of a blast from the past to be honest and a time where the only thing I had to worry about was which bit of skirt to have a go at tonight. A time where money was never an issue as I had loads, a time where every day was spent in the company of very attractive ladies taking their clothes off whilst I took photographs of them and every night was spent in rock bars and rock night clubs. Loads of hair and makeup and that was just the boys. The Guns n Roses generation, wow.
I'm older now and must confess that I am not really any wiser, I just know more stuff about the universe than I did back then.
Anyway that aside I have a bit of a gripe today, what me, complain about something, very uncharacteristic but here we go.
Chefs, now don’t get me wrong my best mate is a chef and he is not a complete twat, he occasionally has his moments but then don’t we all but as a general rule he is a top bloke.
I remember going to the hospital canteen one evening at about 23.30 to get a snack. “Could I have a cheese burger and chips please”
“Yes, Cheese burger and chips please chef” he bellows to his fellow chef who is stood 5 feet away. “right you are chef” his pal bellows back. They then proceed to reheat a burger that has been sat there for god only knows how long in a microwave and deep fry me some fries. Lots of “chef” this and “chef” that every time one said anything to the other. For fucks sake your microwaving me a burger and frying some fries. You don’t get staff in McDonalds shouting chef at each other really loudly when your in there do you, No so fucking stop it you twat.
Right I feel so much better for that.
Now for a review of the Wizard of Oz,