You Big Fatty

Heath and lifestyle blog for people who struggle with KFC, cigarettes and booze

You’ve changed man

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Take me back to when you can smoke drink eat a steak with a serve of pineapple. Beat your wife in front of the kids and no one knew about the physical and psychological abuse we were doing to mankind. No longer does the tea lady come trundling down the corridors of hospitals, trains, planes or even your busy corporate male orientated world.

Are we too aware of what is good for us and what is bad? Or do our internet educated minds just think we know enough or know enough about googling the answer we are looking for. The other day I actually googled the benefits of eating a red onion. I think the waste of my time was the biggest loser in this exercise. the principles of staying thin and getting fat are pretty well known.

Since my last post I have lost 7kg. I have done this by eating less. I can’t believe how simple yet difficult this is. Growing up i was alway very skinny. Like so skinny you would think my parents didn’t love me. Then I hated it, now i think, ‘I would have made such a good art model” with just the right amount of bone structure, ribs and yet not the feminine good looks that the American apparel or Tommy Hilfiger models possess. Back in those days I lived of Mee Goreng, coke, cigarettes, beer, weed and Big Macs. I keeps myself fit by skateboarding around 6 to 8 hours a day.

Now I’m somewhat more sober and queer, the challenge to stay thin – a new thing for me – is a challenge where I have to look at food and only imagine packing my face pussy with fists of lollies that are left on the lunchroom table. If this was the old days it would be open windows, polyester short sleeve shirts, stacks of paper in wire trays with fans blowing on male employees eating apples between swigs of whisky butting out into full ashtrays on solid wood desks.

These days are not romantic, you cant wear your latest fitness watch out to the pub without someone reviewing the application or immediate benefits and disadvantages all the while drinking a low carb beer or requesting fresh lime  vodka sodas. I want to be ignorant. If i was living between the 30s to 50s – yeah i would have a wife and a few pant poopers – but i would be alive and unaware of the consequences. So cheers modern day. You have prolonged my twilight years of impotence and incontinence replacing heart failure with highly absorbent micro fibre. You have you taken away the blur and arrested my fabulous.

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Vegan Emergency

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In an attempt to reclaim my life after a 2 week binge of drinking and emotional eating I decided to go on a vegan detox. Things were going well until I made a vegan chocolate cake. The cake would have been good without the cayenne pepper. But that was nothing compared to the following 12 hours.

After walking up the stairs and going to the bathroom, something that vegans do a lot I have come to realise, I had sharp stabbing pains in my chest. This was coupled with a daylong headache that was invisible to pain killers. I was feeling a light headed and clammy. I knew something wasn’t right. I said to my lover I think there is something wrong. I decided to go to hospital. This weird hotel was inexpensive and in a great location. The room service was attentive and at times painful. The other occupants where colourful and the security guards where hot. They did regular checks on my heart beat and took out blood.

In the end I am still not sure what the deal is but I did realise that the excessive lifestyle has caught up to me. So now I am 5kg lighter and I am thinking skinny. I have joined the dieting cult where we eat small portions of everything and stay slightly hungry all the time. So watch this space. I highly recommend going on a vegan week because it cleans out your tum tums, as far as going vegan you will have to manage difficult diet, people’s pointless opinions, dinner party disasters. Start just eat less meat and a wider range of plant based foods and go from there

I’m not going to drink for a while and keep the diet clean. There was a point during that fateful night where I actually realised that people die from big macs. Thin people can be fat on the insides and the only reason why you are fat is because you aren’t doing anything about it.

Interesting fact – white Europeans are better at being overweight than people from developing countries, says doctor young dude. White fatties can withstand higher BMI’s.

 

d-runk

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Falling off the wagon. Its was a solid 10 days of drinking. Luckily I didn’t smoked a cigarette. Unfortunately the stranglehold of my Nicorette Quickmist had taken over. When I ran out I started sucking the nozzle like a junky sucking the veins of his companion who had overdosed. Desperate for a rush… something real… familiar. I had become a slave for nicotine and alcohol. I haven’t been to the gym in two weeks and have an empty bank account due to the excessive lifestyle derived from the immediate desires of a drunkard. There is no point googling ‘save money hungover’. Buying up bacon the night before is never on the mind of the impulsive. To make matters worse or better, taking prescription anxiety drugs to take the edge off before going for a smooth walk to the art gallery did not helped the start of my week back at work (which was over a week or so ago). Time fly’s. This makes me wonder about functioning alcoholics. They manage to hold down stressful jobs, beat the kids and damage parked cars while grocery shopping. What makes me ‘different’. Its 10 days in and I just seems to find things in the office to stuff in my nostrils to get cheap laughs.

 

Sorry about the delays my dedicated readers. It’s been wild.

Crossfit

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Crossfit nerd

Its Tuesday, there is a bad mood rising and I just had a coffee and nicotine spray and I’m headed to the ladies room to smash one out. Ttyl. Back now. I need more baby wipes. Wink….

So last night I attended a crossfit class. Walking into the warehouse I was greeted by a dog. He was adorable. I knew we would hit it off. A class at the time was pumping it out. I was asked to come in early and fill out the appropriate forms to avoid serious litigation. Looking around I thought to myself, where do I sit without looking like a pervert. I hung out on a box that I can only assume was for jumping on and off. As a spectator I was witness to one after the other of what I am calling, hipster gladiators and aggressive ladies finished their timed workouts. The people where nice. One chubby guy who had been doing it for a year asked me if it was my first time, I looked down bit my lip, twirled my hair and replied “yes”. Then a girl with amazing boobs lay across a bench press with her legs up on the bar started talking to me. Luckily I am immune to boobs, she was very confident even though her moustache required immediate attention. She then banged on about how she has never gone to a gym and only does crossfit, I was all like ok cool. And for the ladies out there I tell you what, cross fit is going to make you look fit and healthy. Apart from the fatties the ladies where fit and healthy looking. Ends up the fatties where fitter than me.

The class ended with a bunch of high fives and people laying on the grown. It was my turn. I was put in the beginner corner with another dude who was half my size. I knew now I had to give my all. My ego was large than my ability in this instance, the small guy won. He seemed to pick up the body jive a little quicker than me, this was not going to stop me from failing terribly. We went through some standard Olympic lifting manoeuvres which has a rhythm that comes from the hips. The trainers where great, the best way to describe them would be; Hipster Gladiators with high energy, rather than apathy like most hipsters.  

 After comprehensive training and realising how uncoordinated my heaving drinking, smoking and laziness had left me we then moved onto a timed routine. there was a short countdown and then intensity while the stop watch calmly clicked away at the minutes and second. We started off skipping. Off I went – “two all-beef patties special sauce lettuce cheese pickles onions on a sesame seed bun”, thankfully the Hipster Spartans found this amusing. I cannot remember the last time that my body has required that much oxygen at once. I can honestly say that I could not have pushed myself that much in a gym on my own, nor would I have had the space to freely move.

 So the verdict for my new fitness goals – I can definitely see myself achieve the goal of getting fitter and any place with a dog is cool with me. For $30 more a week, or two packs of cigarettes, I can see the value.

 Weighing in at 110kg this week I think I am going to try and keep it up if I get the movement back in my lower back and legs.

 This blog is kinda boring. No wonder people dislike crossfitters. The idea of talking about this subject in extended enthusiasm must be a drain on polite conversation.

 

Pyogenic granuloma. Facial wonky boob.

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This week has been filled with an unrequired tribulation. This time last week I had an appointment with a dermatologist for a strange lump on my lip The waiting room was crowded stuffy and run by middle age women and an overweight homosexual. The office had obviously been some conflict in the past about dishes not being cleaned, too much spoon stirring clanging against ceramic cups, or one particular menopausal bitch. There was a interoffice struggle to find who is the top of this pecking order in this cramped and sometimes flakey and irritated waiting room/reception. As I sit here on this plane, post mh370, next to a small man in a cheap suit listening to a soccer game without headphones I ask myself, what is the pecking order of this flight. With my “sometimes” controlling boyfriend who has taken my headphones in an effort to ignore me, due to me getting fully loaded in the lounge, it am now thinking to myself, who is top dog here? I’ve already pushed away my spouse, typing on a iflap  isn’t going to win me the position of unapproachable dickhead. But yet, I still have a drink to spill on the strangers, cheap affordable lap.

 

Back to the results.

 

As turbulence kicks in and my nicotine spray has made me nauseous… earlier this week I had a new to the game, dermatologist tell me that I had skin cancer. This followed by the older dermatologist being called in for a second opinion. This is where my story of fear began. The older dermatologist, who I will call Sally, reached out with her bareback hand, arched her little finger pealed by lip back and had a feel around. I was paralysed. Sitting there with an old ladies finger touching the growth on the inside of my mouth I then began to think. How many skin disorders has this finger touched today? Is this her way of saying to herself, if I catch anything, heck… its only my pinky… Me on the other hand, had a dermatologists experienced finger jabbing at my money maker. I was at her mercy. In shock with the idea of having my lip removed because of a smoking related skin cancer. I was traumatised.

 

Hearing you have cancer and it being referred and related to you smoking was a moment I could have done without. The feeling of stupidity was very real. I felt bad. Leaving the practice with stitches and a numb lip I went home with my tail between my legs. This was then heightened by a phone call from my mother, who has worked for 45 years in the medical industry. She said as follows, “I am a woman of this world, you can tell me anything… Do you have HIV? Tthis could be HIV lesion, can I send you a photo or would that freak you out?”. Fear had spread throughout my body within a few heartbeats. This was round up with several minutes of back pedalling. My mind went into a paranoid state.

 

Then there is the wait.

 

The first 24 hours I was in shock. I knew that in no way was this life threatening. My real concern was the ‘margin’ that the doctor spoke about, which may or may not affect the way my lip looked. My vivid and wild imagination immediately drew a scene. I was catching the 286 bus from junky street Richmond. My bottom row of teeth exposed. Dry. The occasional duelling from my face window. I would have to sit in that situation until I could find the correct lighting and distance from people to feel comfortable. Vanity surpasses mortality in this instance. I don’t pretend to be down to earth. I have the same concerns as the pretty girl with the wonky left boob. I get all the attention but never puts out because of my dark hidden padded secret. But in this case my tits where on my face and it was wonky because of poor life decision.

 

In the end it was just a pyogenic granuloma? No cancer. Probably the biggest win in this was my work colleague and friend quit smoking on the spot after me telling a tragic story of having a smoking related cancer and her having to explain it to her children. So I’m off to the plastic surgeon and for life saving reconstructive facial surgery this week and never smoking again.

 

Keep it real guys.

Sexual Therapist

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Today didn’t start very well. I began my day rushing out the door after shaving my neck beard only to step in a small dog poop. See below. Rushing to my physiotherapist I was stuck in traffic. After making a break for it I witnessed an accident between a small car and a motorbike, everyone was ok but the bystanders heart missed a skipped a beat. Quickly my dog turd incident was forgotten and my appointment was nearing its deadline. I made it 4 minutes late and entered the room of hotness and back cracking.

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I have recently discovered I have a very mild back condition called Scheuermann’s disease which means I have a stiff back and rib cage. I feel this title really exaggerates what is going on. I call it stiffness. I now have to work on my flexibility which is according to the man, ‘you’re on top of the bell curve of flexible, you being not flexible’. I’m ok with this. The older I get the more I have come to realise that health professionals don’t really have the answers or treatments, instead they just have a great sales pitch. This gentleman massaged my back in all kinds of ways as though I was a slab of meat, cracked my neck like a bond movie extra then patted me on the ass and said I was in good nick. I left feeling somewhat relaxed and left wondering…

 

My physiotherapist was chiselled by the hand of a homosexual man during the renaissance who has just returned from a trip in Africa. The physio revealed he was 45, this guy looked like a 22 year old American football player. I was astonished so I asked, ‘’what’s your secret’’ – this guy’s body is out of control, there wasn’t a wrinkle on his face – he replied, “I just eat the right thing and look after myself”. I personally think it has something to do with his cotton picking heritage, they out there in the sun working hard, being oiled for show and only short time ago having to survive against harrowing odds. Whereas the white generations have been stuffing pies into their faces and sitting down for way too long. Mmm? I don’t know how cool it is referring to my physios heritage by comparing the atrocities of slavery to try and justify the foundations of building a better genome. I’m going to run with it for now because he was an Adonis who charge $78 for 20 minutes, the past is over and the future is looking good for this guy.

 

Does a great six pack need to have some kind of fear and/or torture associated for great results? I know the window washing junkies have dynamite six packs. They weave between traffic, run from police and put their bodies through punishing injections of drugs. Look at any non-food related addiction. Most of these people have killer six packs, gym junkies, super models, street sweepers ect. What is it going to take? I have had to stop wearing a belt in the office because of my heavy load do I need to kidnapped for results? Or even swap my sandwiches for crack-cocaine? Oh why are you so cruel Jesus? You had a wash board stomach but even you must have had your vices and stress to keep your rags looking great.

Sex lives of bodybuilders.

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Over the weekend I was lucky enough to go to a body building competition. For a hour I was drawn into a world of extreme discipline, disappointment, adulation and spray tans. Body builders look like KFC. Golden brown, textured and greasy. Body building compititions are like gay bars. Modern dance music, colourful flashing lights, lasers, smoke machines and even a bubble machine. Then the men come parading out with their short shorts (beach body competition) or there spangled underwear, red was my favourite. The show was amazing, the crowd excited, the food cryovaced and the protein was bio-available. Amazing. I have never seen wasteline so refinded in all my time. The clear winners of the heats stood out, like in a bucket of chicken – you just know which one is going to be the best. With no room for coleslaw your only chance to wash down this visual delight was quarter turn and avoid laughing too loud. With a gung-ho crowd screaming out “go 105” you start to wonder if at dog and cat shows have the same amount of energy. My chicken bucket list grew bigger as my imagination drew beautiful imagery of middle aged overweight cat ladies (men included) standing between rows of chairs barracking for pedigree kitties on stage too docile to escape or at least hiss trying.

I had to drag myself away to have a cigarette. Outside of the competition I was surprised by the amount of smokers, some who looks as though their days of body building had long gone, others you could see their perfect physics rippling through their tight, heavy metal or wu-tang band t-shirts. I know body building isn’t about cardio but why can I have a body of my dreams and punch a few darts? Does it take complete fascination to look like this? Do we need to have calorie counting watches synced to heart monitor straps around our torsos to achieve Adonis status? What answer appeared to be most prevalent was, fitness waits in no fast food line and smoking and BBQ sauce is ok.

So before you run to your local sporting store and order your black band shirt, be aware of the what it takes to be consumed with body image, to get up on stage with your spray tan. You are going to be hungry. You are going to be thirsty. You are going to have to make sure that you use the correct colour of spray tan and not end up looking grey or blue. And ask yourself, are you going to be the guy with the shiney jocks or the guy choose the muted colour? Will you be completing your tan or leaving your face as white as ghost intended?

My inspiration has been mindly increased however I know what limits us from perfection. It is how absorbed we are with outside persuasions being, sex, drugs, facebook, television or work. What is it that makes a man or woman go to such extremes without improving actual fitness? Drinking so much water then starving and dehydrating one’s self to compete on a day, clad with body bronzer to be hero worshiped by your peers and other perverts? I’m confused, is that a good thing? Perhaps we need to be more specific when setting our fitness goals. Can the fitness gods be confused when we pray, “I want to be fit and healthy”. Do the gods compare this to the general populous? With 786 million people without access to clean water and 2.5 billion people without sanitation is the western world healthy enough in their eye? By way of specifics should we be asking the divine rulers to be hungry goldern fitness models? And should we be requesting to for the restraint to pass on KFC and/or frozen delights?

Life’s tough kido. Calorie counting gets dull and low blood suger has never been a recreational drug for a reason – its boring.

Sorry about the delay guys. I have actually been busy.

How to live to 100 years old

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My cutlery is all over the floor and I’m struggling with life. Boohoo. While a good whinge is necessary, I cannot condone this behaviour in this health and fitness blog. I may have spilt the office cutlery all over the floor but I did what every good colleague does, scoop it up and put it back in the awkward cupboard. I have a vague understanding of germ exposure which is if you don’t get it from a whore its ok. In a constant effort to fight against the rising water of bad habits, is the solution as easy as stuffing them back in the draw? and simply not mentioning them at lunch when everyone is eating? Can we keep our heads above the dirty water of self-destruction by simply not paying attention to it? We have all heard of such and such’s uncle that smoked and drank and lived to a hundred, did he just not read ‘Mens Health’ magazine? Modern humans have an enormous uncategorised ocean of health information with data being presented with whomever is on the top of the google ant heap, but who is correct? Who has the right answers when urban legend and water-cooler facts are taken for gospel? All I found on the subject was some dull blog with flowers.

My advice for life is; enjoy it. Avoid negative thoughts, if you worry about life or google sickness and even speak about sickness you will probably end up sick. Focus on a calmer mind by taking deep breaths and think about kittens and puppies. Do good Karma things just because. Don’t talk negatively about people or anything if you can. Don’t sweat the small things. If you get lost driving or take a wrong turn try and look around to enjoy the journey. Traffic jams are music appreciation time. If you eat the junk food relish it. If you eat good food relish it. If you get to eat, relish it. Jog for fun. Pat stray animals. Never live a week without skipping if only for a few moments. Elevator rides are fun and a good chance to meet people. Push the alarm button for a second, I dare you. Read celebrity gossip to instead of the news. Politics are boring and the best opinion should be is more free stuff. Not many 100 year olds skylark so if you make it that far get a mega phone and do blockies with the grand kids and tell the world what you think. Don’t win arguments for the sake of the argument, getting fired up about things just isn’t worth it. Tell people off for texting and driving, it’s no cool and it kills cyclists. Don’t be racist, the people you are being rude about may become the people you will rely on, love, donate their blood/organs, be a one night stand or even send you valentine cards – so get comfortable with it.  Avoid work by under capitalising. You don’t need new things or personal debt. Buy investment properties rather than pay your own home off. Be loud. Whisper sleazy comments at the same sex and if you are gay whisper sleazy things to everyone. Imagine when you are drinking water that the water is flushing your system out. When someone has a booger let them know by saying ‘you have a bat in your cave’. Masturbate often. If you can, give piggy back rides.  Hand in lost items. If you find a telephone always call the last person dialled to return it and always read the messages and look at the pictures. Name your car. If you ride public transport wash your hands as much as possible. Wash your hands as much as possible. Try using baby wipes when you go to the bathroom, it will change your life. Get swept up in fads, celebrities and local developments. Talk about things you know nothing about. Ride a bike whenever you can. Never speak over people. Don’t listen to everyone all the time, take some time to tune out. Draw things on post it notes. Put confetti in letters, never put glitter in envelopes. Dance every day. Avoid sticky tap. Open doors for people. In your life time you should put your face into a whole cake and eat you way out. Quit your job if it hurts your feelings. Never be scared of things that won’t kill you. Learn how to use excel. Draw what you want to say on paint, cut and paste it into a email and send it to your boss. Make origami. Karaoke is an important part of human development, don’t miss out. If you are feeling bad say 10 things good about life. Draw on people with pen any chance you can. Tell women they look good. Tell men they look good. Go out without your telephone for dinner. Like peoples facebook status’s as much as possible. If you haven’t already done this, get a fire extinguisher from a car park, pull the pin out and squeeze the trigger, do it now. Use too many politesse’s as a game, “Hello, can I please have a can of coke. Thankyou, have a great day. Goodbye”. Frolic. Picture message (MMS) as much as possible. Draw penis’s over newspapers. Don’t be offended as much as possible. Simulate sucking dick whenever possible. Scream whenever possible. Don’t care what people think. Swim in water as much as possible. Go to theme parks. When monopoly gets boring pick up the board and poor it over the people you are playing. Watch kids cartoons. Put your finger in weird places to see what it feels like. Doodle. Urinate from heights. Play snap. Stab things with knifes. Set fire small things. Work on your door knock. Give up now and then. Get drunk and talk to strangers on planes. Enjoy being shuffled through processes out of your control. Be nice to waitress/ers. Be nice to everyone and don’t expect to be thanked for it. Negotiate whenever possible. Throw books and paper pads at your friends. Don’t be serious. If you ever watering with a hose turn it on whoever you can. Always keep toilet paper, a towel, swimming costume and a jumper in the back of your car. Ring any bell you can get your hands on. Pick flowers. Always eat popcorn at the movies. Print things in A3 once in a while, the oversized documents make things more fun. Never buy wireless mouses or keyboards, they suck. Don’t wear g-strings if you are a man and if you are female seriously consider not wearing g-strings. Make fun day goals. Sit in small chairs. Put unusual things on your head. Own at least one wig. Take before and after photos. Break rules. Read out loud on long car trips. Stupid things are usually fun things. Flickering florescent lights is gods way of saying “disco”, so beat box and dance. Choose your favourite everything and be ok with changing your mind. Try weird food. Put anything that fits up your nose. Open the CD tray on your computer as much as possible. Play skill testers. Buy lotto tickets too dream. Gamble $20 maximum. Prank people at any chance you can. Don’t follow Ashton what’s his name on twitter. Write on the furniture with pencil. Learn to touch type. Create wind tunnels in your car by winding down all the windows on the freeway for fun. Ride shopping trollies. Eat at the Ikea restaurant. Keep weird things in your glove box to surprise passengers. Do yoga as much as possible. Prank call as an adult. Get excited about everything you can. Take a sick day when you’re not sick. Get outside any chance you can. Drink alcohol. Throw a television off a balcony at least once in your life time. Don’t tidy your hotel room. Enjoy being rained on, your hair isn’t that important. Write letters to companies letting them know if you enjoy their products. Generally play with things. Wear costumes at any chance. Express yourself. Google Nikola Tesla. Avoid Russia. Break things in supermarkets from time to time. Put other peoples shoes on. Get comfortable being naked and go to a nude beach. Get a great tan by always wearing sunscreen. Bomby into pools. Take as many selfies as possible. Be ok with bad photos of yourself. Join Instagram. Honk your horn for no reason. Hide in your house and wait to scare your housemate, friends, lovers, parents or animals. Watch your pets when they don’t know you are looking. Sit on the washing machine whenever you can. Talk into fans. Unnecessarily push buttons. Learn to do a burn out and do rad skids on your push bike. Try and walk past dog parks. Get comfortable farting around people. Eat psyllium husk daily. Eat out of the jar or packet. Eat over the sink. Eat in the car. Dine in at fast food outlets. Go to Costco. Shower before bed. Jump on beds. Sms a stranger and see what comes back. Knock and run. Learn to cook eggs anyway. Quit smoking. Hoola hoop. Bounce any ball possible. Send good vibes out. Pray for your friends and family. Love the shit out of your lover. Lie when necessary. Avoid lying. Collect sea shells. Don’t kill bugs. Flick the lights on and off. Avoid Apple products. Whiteboards are for fun not for business. Eat potato. Write letters to people. Stamp things with stamps that aren’t supposed to be stamped. Learn things about stuff. Eat hummus. Don’t be a hater. Don’t rock the boat don’t rock the boat baby. Take as many pictures as possible. Buy a Voss water bottle for work and home and reuse it. Master glad wrap. Look after people. Get plastic surgery if you want to. If you don’t fit in jeans do everything you can to lose weight. Get dirty now and then. Avoid heroin. Don’t hate on iceberg lettuce. Have a whale of a time. Laugh. Don’t stress out about not enjoying life.

Please feel free to add your suggestions in the comments below.

Why McDonald’s is going out of business

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Today I discovered that Brandon Park Shopping Centre McDonald’s is shutting down. This tough news was delivered with a large Big Mac meal with extra Mac sauce and a Coke, the milkshake machine was out of order today,  much like the staff that worked on the other side of the counter. I asked the girl behind the counter, “what next? Are you going to work at Suki Sushi next door?”, her awkward piggy tail face said, she and her fellow colleagues had the choice to be relocated but didn’t disclose her future plans, I forget that to her I could possibly be a potential sex predator with a thirst for special sauce.  Failing to extract details of Miss Pig Tail’s career plans I probed into how could this food outlet could possibly be closing down, in a nation of growing fatties how could this happen? apparently there wasn’t enough customers to make it a success. Broken hearted I ate my lunch finished up with a selfie to mark this milestone and followed up with a phone call to the shop to ask if I could buy the remainder of the Mac Sauce. They said no.

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Who was the cold blooded murder of this franchise? Was it poor management? What is the overheads of the McDonald’s institution itself tearing down the walls like a big mac without mac sauce?

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I briefly investigated what it takes to become a franchisee but Catriona Noble (below left) the Franchise Managing Director’s tight fisted photograph turned me off. Surely someone who truly enjoys McDonald’s can’t be thin and moderately attractive, unlike Frank Meduri who has devoted 20 years over 4 Franchises. Maybe I could be a franchisee, further investigation on this matter became boring and very expensive and yet the dream of one day being aroused, naked and covered in Mac Sauce kept me going. According to the table it is only going to cost me around $2.3 million to fulfil this dream, that’s Tokyo billionaire business man sexual hedonism. Say that three times to guy sitting next to you and you may get lucky.

Will I rebuild? I’m not sure. Is this a good thing? Probably… but where am I going to go when I hate myself? The guy from Eastern Chinese Cuisine didn’t wash his hands after using the bathroom, but do I need that kind of abuse? Today I had to stop using my regular business belt and upsize, then I had to change my shirt before morning tea because it didn’t fit anymore. I now have 5 more notches on my belt and I want to get value for money. Is this obsession gone too far? I am taking a month of lifting weights to re-centre my vagina by doing yoga as much as possible, should I focus on more rapid movements and smaller meal quantities? I have been a day without cigarettes, I’m already overwhelmed. During a natural disaster first they take away the danger then look for a solution to piece together the devastated area.

Update, tonight’s new yoga class the 70 year old lady was cleaning out the classes genitals and referred to everyone’s ovaries and my testes. 1 to 10 ratio awkward.

Reasons why i’m never doing a body balance class again

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Oh my fucking god, what just happened? I have woken up Monday hung-over from Thursday night. I seemed to have fallen off the wagon and down the face of a mountain. What little self-control I had, has disappeared and gone. Thursday I drank 4 cocktails, 3 pints of beer and a very strong Vodka orange. So not the worst night but we hit it hard, I did have a great time. Friday rocks around and we are back on the cigarettes full time. I can’t smoke them fast enough. In fact during my debaucheries I smoked 4 packs in 4 days. I was then greeted by Saturday where I drank a mojito every 5 minutes then moved to beer with wet pussy chasers. I thought I was pretty rad until the trip home included a large Big Mac Meal, 2nd in 2 days, then my trip to the bathroom, 3 Big Mac meals in 2 days.

I go to a community gym for the great prices, location, and the sign asking people not to spit or read the paper in the sauna. In an effort to reclaim my focus and align my chakras, today I wanted to do some yoga.  I wanted Yoga to make me feel like when you eat a salad for lunch after eating a few McMuffins for breakfast and get the hotcakes just for the taste. The issues with yoga began when they called it body balance. The class was held in the crèche on the same carpet that dynamic parents leave their kids to piss on for only $44 a month. There were no mats unless you brought your own. Looking around the room I notice there was a few more men that the usual 10 to 1 ratio, they weren’t the usual guys either. These guys had shoes on and they had a Lynx deodorant vibe rather than a Patchouli crystal earth deodorant vibe, which I’m use to and like. Then the sweating explanation walked in, hair wet and shaggy, her fine physique was perfectly complemented with athletic cans, appropriate beads of sweat and pants so tight I could see her who ha. Jennifer Beals eat your minge out.

The class began with some dramatic tai chi movements. I feel I had a natural flow to this ancient exercise, granted there were no mirrors. Then we moved to a little yoga and my first ever experience with Pilates. I don’t like Pilates. I gave it a shot but my dick called me a pussy, I had my legs up in the air, vibrating my arms and then banging them on floor. My dick was right, so I lay on the floor until the feeling of awkward was over. Meditation time came around and all I could do was ruining everyone’s good time by coughing up my weekend. I thought so myself. I am dying. These smokes are killing me. And yet all I was to do is smoke more.

I am all for yoga but this blend can go and pull its Lululemon pants out of it’s vagina.

Kind Regards,

You big fatty.