The quest for Hollywood tits

It's only a day till pay day. Hurrah for pay, and days with pay in them!

In other news I'm actually really enjoying work at the moment. I don't know why but that week off really refreshed me and so I'm going at it like a trooper at the moment. This hasn't actually had any effect, it's more like I'm banging my head against a brick wall with gusto rather then vague disinterest.

The only other thing of note to happen yesterday is that I briefly wore a t-shirt in public (post gym) and a workmate said I looked like a pugilist. So I suppose that's a sign, I've now reached the point that if I wear anything even vaguely skimpy people comment on my figure. So there you go, it takes about 3 months and you have to eat differently. That's been the biggest surprise that food makes such a difference. Not more, not less, just better.

The next step in the gym plan is 'Hollywood tits' this ridiculous pectorals that you see in films. I want to see if I can grow some of them. It's like gardening but with your own body.

Gym member of the month

Yes I finally did it. I am gym member of the month. I was 5 days clear of my nearest competitor, the LOSER*

I think this is another sign that I'm turning into a gym bunny. Anyway seeing I was member of the month I decided to do a post-week off work out. It was a hardcore one because after a week of not working out I had loads of energy. Also since I was member of the month I had to show the lesser mortals in the gym how things were done.

To add to the fun the air conditioning was broken.

And so I worked out so hard that I spent the rest of the afternoon and evening feeling really quite sick. So sick that I had to give myself a bit of a talking to. I was about to fall asleep but I'd promised a girl that I'd call her to arrange a second date. The talking to worked and so that was sorted out *phew*.

Morale of the story, when you are starting to flag at the end of the work out stop and think 'okay time to calm down' instead of thinking 'FEEL THE BURN COME ON YOU CAN DO ANOTHER TWENTY MINUTES'. Or put another way, I am a spaz.

I went to the gym again today but took it easy (for me) and instead feel rather marvellous this evening. A big improvement I feel.

I'm going to celebrate by not eating brown rice. Good times.

*who probably has a social life.

The Office

I now have an office. It's because I have to finish this book soon. Have to. I will finish it if it kills me.

Through experience I have learned that writing means cleaning. When I have something difficult to write I clean a lot to put off doing it for a while.

I used this pro-actively by moving my laptop into the small spare bedroom. This room is where I put mess, mess and motorcycle gear. So it's in a bit of a state. Or at least it was. I started writing, and it went well. Every time I was stuck on something I did a little bit of cleaning and organising. I found so many lost things it was like I'd been shopping.

The room is now mostly organised. There are still a few more things to sort out but it looks much better. I think I'll do some more writing in it again tonight to finish off the cleaning.

I'm gearing up on the book writing even more now, I've covered a wall in post-it notes with various plot-holes, questions that need to be answered and a whole column that is just 'need more'.

The only slight problem is that I've constructed this installation downstairs and my new 'office' is upstairs. Oh bum.

I think I'll leave it downstairs though, so it's in my face and not hidden away in a room. I can't put it off any longer, I have to finish it. MUST MUST MUST. Yes, I've entered the madness stage of a writing project, so it was a week off well spent.

Chat Roulette, a review

I thought I'd have a go on ChatRoulette since people kept tweeting about it. I went on it and saw a lot of winkies. I mean really quite a lot of winkies.

Old winkies, small winkies, dark winkies. I got rejected by stranger's winky. So that's a new experience. You are randomly paired up with people and then if they don't look like fun you press F9 to get a new person. It seems that if you let the world communicate with each other at random what you will see is a lot of wink wonks.

I only managed one brief actual conversation with someone, who said they were 'inteviewing for a paper'. They didn't show me their winky and for a tiny moment I sort of saw what the website was supposed to be about, random people talking about things via video chat. Then I saw some more winkies.

The users of Chat Roulette seem to fall into a few groups

1) A disembodied winky being touched. Or a close up of some awful underpants, which I assume contain a winky.

2) Lone man, badly lit probably with a beard and a hat on. He is probably thinking about showing you his winky.

3) A group of giggling girls who will demand to see your winky.

That's it really.

Snow walks

Walking is good, walking in the snow is pleasingly dramatic to say the least. We were technically lost a few times. I say technically, I was pretty sure where we were but since we couldn't see very far it was based on a gut feeling rather than anything else.

I don't think I've been on a snowy walk before but I'd definitely recommend it. It was pretty exhausting. I also got to really test my 'high performance walking coat' I got one in a sale, it's like no other coat I've ever owned. It's made of light, strange fabrics and looks terribly modern. I find it pleasingly focused. It worked well and I definitely looked the part while stomping around the hills. I like the pouch in the front, more clothes should have a pouch

Afterwards we went to Waitrose (it was on the way back) and bought cake to eat when we got home. We had a soup waiting for us, yes you can make excellent soup in the slow cooker. Who would have thought? I'm going to have to do that more often.

Post soup we ate cake with hot chocolate and looked out of the window at the increasing drifts of snow. It's still snowing hard, if it keeps it up my brother will be unable to go home. Hurrah!

Booze drought

We have run out of booze. For someone who never drinks on his own, having my brother around has completely switched my attitude to boozing in the evenings. I'm not sure what we are going to drink tonight, we only have novelity drinks left, you know the sort that you only buy as a joke. Dark times indeed.

I'm trying to do some writing today, which means I've already put the bins out, cleaned the front room and think I'll do the washing-up next. I have to put more gloss on the children's book, well it's a bit beyond gloss. It needs a fresh coat of paint, and a bit of bodywork done, and perhaps a new engine.

My mother read it and said it was 35% there. 35% is a bit lower than I would have hoped, still I suppose that is 35%. So a third of the way there, so I will continue the slog, or at least I will after I've done the washing up.

Walking with family

We are on day three of the brother visit. It's going well, we get on brilliantly so it's not really a challenge by any stretch of the imagination. I think the only challenge is doing things, whole days can go by messing around on computers or reading books without even realising. So to counter this we are going on long walks, yesterday we had a two hour stroll that absolutely exhausted us afterwards.

I like that feeling of mild exhaustion, it helps a chap sleep at night. Also any activity where you end up with muddy trousers afterwards is definitely to be approved of.

I'm trying to do some writing too while he is here (so he can moan at me if it's not done) but we shall see how that goes. Still it's lovely having him here. He used to go to our fathers every half term so I think it's important for him to be able to have roughly the same experience, just with fewer goats and less awkward conversation with second wives.

Grown-up tea

My brother is visiting, I know that eternially he will be my 'little brother' but he is almost as tall as me now and in the evenings we drink beer together. I suppose that is the nature of things, in my head he will always be about 7 and want to play with lego.

This hasn't actually changed really. I still think if I had some lego we would definitely be playing with it. As we don't we are up playing computer games and having a breakfast composed almost entirely of chocolate.

I am using the teapot though, which always makes me feel grown up so it balance it's probably quite a mature meal.

If we hold the stationary cupboard, we hold the office

There is a coup at work brewing. The top chap is fine, but one of his lieutenants is a berk. Historically he has been a harmless berk but when something didn't go well he blamed it on the team.

The thing was so bad that the top chap came down to gave the leaders of the team a good telling off. After quite a big verbal bashing the team leaders eventually said 'hold on a minute, he told us to do that'

That was day before yesterday. Yesterday there were a few frantic meetings, with the berk storming about trying to find out who said those things. I'm only getting snippets of this but it's quite gripping.

It should be said that this berk has always been a berk, and he has no real skills but nothing seems to stick to him. There are a few people in the company like this, ones that amaze you that they are still employed.

Puppies and ghosts

Doing well in gym is a weird experience for me. I wasn't that sporty at school, not in the traditional sense. I used to sail a lot outside of school but that's not really football is it? So I never really had a P.E. teacher going 'well done' at me.

Which makes this sort of mid-life crisis towards fitness all the more strange. I spend a lot of time talking to the gym chap about how I can improve my times and things and then like a puppy getting a reward I get praise for beating my targets again. For some reason I find this terribly compelling, even when praise for my professional work makes me cringe.

So what is that all about? Or is it one of those things one shouldn't question too hard.

It was another day of rowing practice, this time I managed 7.10 so an improvement, but I could have done better. I ran out of steam towards the end and then my technique went all wonky. I was on course for a sub 7 minute time before then.

Also I pushed myself so hard I felt a bit weird for the rest of the day, which is against the point of going to the gym in the first place. I go to the gym to feel excellent, not like a ghost with a hangover.

Rowing to ruin

The car is gone. Hurrah. I spent a whole evening trying to find the keys but I couldn't. I also never managed to get hold of the document to prove I owned it. Even worse, I also didn't manage to be around when the scrap man turned up.

So that means a car disappeared, a car that I had absolutely no proof I owned. Just gone. All they had was my mobile phone number. This opens up all sorts of opportunities for revenge towards bad people with cars.

I don't really know anyone with a car who I want to get revenge on that badly but it's something to consider for the future.

In gym news I began the rowing challenge. 2000m in the shortest time ever. I managed 7.15 in my second attempt, which if I were a woman, would put me at the level of representing Great Britain.

I've got to knock another minute off that time if I want to get even close to where the Olympic chaps are but I think for my second attempt at doing it ever, it was a very respectable time. I have awful rowing technique, so there is definite room for improvement there.

Last night I watched 'The Age of Stupid' a film about climate change, it was cheesy and slightly hackneyed in parts but it scared me witless so I suppose it had the desired effect. It's a film about climate change, made up from documentary footage taken today. This doesn't sound terribly gripping but it gets across the point that a dystopian future isn't science fiction.

It made me very glad I don't own a car.

Bye bye car

Today the car goes. It's been broken for a while but today it should disappear. I say should because I can't find the bloody keys. I've waited so long to get rid of it because I have also been waiting for the documentation and it's never arrived.

So yes, this is going to involve some sweet talking to get the chap to take it away. I hope I can manage it. I mean, it's not anything criminal I'm asking him to do, I think, or I hope.

Also I've decided I don't want to cycle to Spain but I'm not sure how to get out of it. I think the problem is that it would end up being a very, very expensive holiday and if I was going to spend that much money on a week long break it would be to go somewhere pretty amazing.

I'm not sure how to get out of it though. And yes, I admit this might be connected to Lycra's behavoir, but if I decided to do it because I like her then it seems okay to chose not to because I don't so much anymore.

10 Lessons learned this weekend

1) Never enter a quiz about a sports subject when the other team in the quiz is made of people who are WORLD CHAMPIONS of that sport. Not knowing about the subject but actually doing it. You will lose.

2) Apparently going on lots of dates with girls makes you HOT to other girls. So people like Lycra say 'can we go on a date sometime?'

3) If you have run out of money to get home, it is possible to barter with cab drivers.

4) It is possible to have lots of dates in an evening, but it does mean you spend rather too much time thinking about clocks when you should be gazing into their eyes lovingly.

5) If a girl at then end of the date asks you when you are next in London, this might be a clue that she would like to see you again. If you don't pick up on this until you are on the train home you are a spaz. A Spaz like Louche.

6) If Lycra asks you for a date, don't get too excited because the next day she may say 'she needs a few months before she is ready to date'.

7) The way to cure the bafflement over this is to ask out the nice girl from the night before for another date.

8) This is extra cool if you realise that Lycra and the other girl (known as 'The Hat' from now on) are walking down the same street as you call them, only meters apart.

9) If you go out in a public place in a tight t-shirt after months of working out, strange women will come up to you and squeeze your arms. This requires a set of social skills that I'm not equipped with, yet.

10) Don't start a list of ten lessons learned when you haven't thought of all ten.

Operation T-shirt

I did it. I burned 1000 calories in less than 30 minutes, and afterwards I was fine. A bit tired, okay very tired but I didn't feel sick or anything. This mean the hunt for the T-shirt is on. I'm not sure where I'm going to find it but by jove I'm going to look for it.

Operation T-shirt is go, although judging by the photo I'm going to need to do some more work on my arms to really carry it off.

Lycra has told the chap to bugger off, after my chum the art dealer gave her a good talking to. The art dealer was someones mistress for five years so she was able to speak from experience about this sort of thing. It seemed to have the desired effect. I'm still unsure about Lycra, but this is positive.

John-Paul and terrible women

I want to burn 1000 calories in 30 minutes this week. I managed 900 in 26 minutes on Tuesday so I think I'm on my way there. The gym chap said this was about what Arctic explorers would burn so that was interesting.

If I manage to hit the target I'm going to celebrate by buying a stripey top like the sort you see in John-Paul Gaultier adverts.

Most of my wardrobe doesn't fit anymore so I'm searching for a new look, I don't think 'camp sailor' is going to be a big part of it but for some reason I really, really want a top like that.

It's slightly troubling.

Oh and Lycra is taking the chap back, and with one stroke has removed herself from the list of people I admire. The chap said he was going to fly over to see her (dramatic) but missed his flight (less dramatic) so they spoke on the phone (lame).

During this phone conversation he said two things
1) That he had already moved into an apartment
2) If Lyrca split up his family he would destroy her.

Now these two seem mutually exclusive to me, but it seems Lycra can't see that. The problem is there is a whole section of women who seem unable to be happy and beat themselves up running after utter shits like this chap, and I've had more than my fill of them already.

People like that definitely don't deserve to see me poncing about in my new t-shirt.

Men are shits

I had a frantic phone call this morning from my chum the Art Dealer. Lycra had discovered that her chap was in fact married with two children. She found this out through Facebook.

Not the fact that she saw a picture of him WEARING a wedding ring with two kids. No he managed to talk that away with 'oh sometimes I just wear a ring for fun'.

It was when Lycra contacted a mutual friend and said 'sorry if this sounds mad but is X seeing someone?' the person called back and said he was married.

The shit. What makes it worse are the following two facts

1) When he was with her he was constantly talking about their future and how they were going to get married

2) Once found out he has threatened her with 'mercenaries' if she tells anyone about the affair.

I mean seriously, is there any need for this behaviour?