Tuesday, 13 December 2011

So much to do.....

The fatigue is mounting up today.

Working on my flat last night all went a bit wrong, these are the clear sign of me being tired:

Whilst taking the doors down to trim them a bit, I managed to get grease on my nice new ivory carpets, thankfully I had vanish to hand.
Whilst re-installing the heaters I managed to slice my knee open and not notice. Cue drips of blood all over my nice new ivory carpets. Thankfully I had a plaster and kitchen towel to hand.
Whilst putting the kick board back under the oven, I managed to re-open my skin flap on my left middle finger. My emergency plaster was already being used on my knee and a quick examination revealed that it need to stay there and definitely could not multi-task between the two wounds. Thankfully, next door had a spare plaster and I managed to have a nose around to see what the other flats look like.

Arse flaps. Most people pop next door for sugar or coffee (or so those media execs would have me believe). Me? I go for emergency medical assistance.
If Carlsberg did neighbours……? I think I’ll have tonight off, perhaps go to Sainsburys, after all, how wrong can it go whilst buying veg? Oooooohhh, Friday night excitement at its best!

Lager, lager, lager, lager

I’ve just read one of Housse’s first posts and I resisted the urge to go completely against the grain of it and the comment thread. It’s not that I have anything against Housse (that is Witho’s job!) or the people that commented, it’s just that I have a different point of view.

Essentially, Housse went on a Stag weekend, didn’t want to do the Weaselling (boulder climbing) and absailing, didn’t want to drink to excess and didn’t enjoy the lap dancing club. Fair enough, he didn’t want to do it, stood up for himself and didn’t go with the flow. Good on him, it’s a tricky thing to do in heavily testosterone influenced environments, I just think it’s a pity he felt obligated to enjoy these things. I realise that is usually people like me who make people like him feel obligated to do these things.....

The thing is, if put in the same situation I would have done completely the opposite: I love getting mucky and dirty, I love climbing things, I love competition, I especially love abseiling and the huge adrenalin rush you get as you start to lean back over the edge and let the rope take your weight, I love drinking to excess with a group of mates and hey, I love going to strip clubs – I appreciate that the ladies are in charge, but I enjoy it. I enjoy being a lad, I enjoy the games that can ensue when surrounded by other lads, if someone says slow down during a big night out I tend to speed up. The number of times I have downed pints when Underworld "Born slippy" is played in the pubs is untrue (see post title for a clue to the chorus). It’s a bit self-destructive, but I know when I’ve had enough/am being a right twat and call time when due. And yes, having been the instigator, calling time is hard to do and I get a lot of deserved stick for it. But you reap what you sow.

I don’t do it because people are pressuring me, I’m not doing it to impress my peers, I’m doing it because I enjoy it. I think it’s fair to say that when I go out with my mates, I do tend to ring-lead and encourage over the top behaviour. That is just the kind of person I am, I’m enjoying it and I want everyone else to enjoy it too. Also, nothing sucks more than sober people reminding you of what you did the night before.

Of course, every now and then you come across some resistance to certain ideas, such as flaming sambuca, streaking, setting fire to your chest hair etc. But usually some cajoling does the trick and people start to lighten up. I don’t see it so much as bullying, I see it as providing a consultation service - suggesting the best way to have my version of a good time. Unfortunately, after one large company bar bill where our users saw my consultation services in full swing, I now have a little bit of a reputation when down the pub with them. Occasionally it can be a real arse, as people expect a certain level, occasionally it can be a great excuse and thankfully I don’t have to try.

On reading Housse’s post, my initial reaction was stereotypical, Lord Flashhart’s voice came into my head with a thundering, “What a POOF, WOOF!” but perhaps I should start to think twice before giving people a hard time. Just because I enjoy getting dirty, drunk and having a complete stranger’s boobies thrust in my face and then her turning around to give herself a good spanking whilst she wears nothing but a skimpy thong, doesn’t mean that the next man will enjoy it (and I do enjoy it, it's not a macho thing). Maybe I should let people get on with it. Or maybe people just need some motivation to get horrifically drunk and I‘m doing God’s work brother?

I think that is why I enjoy Doug, Joe and Mav’s company, we’re all alike. If one of us slows down, the others give him shit until he’s a lap ahead, effectively the bullying is reciprocated. Mav isn’t called two-sips for nothing…….

Huh, full circle, how did that happen?

Aitkins and Tilesey

One of my particular interests is sports nutrition. Due to my quite sporty based life style and high calorie usage, I do have to watch what I eat in order to keep myself healthy - something I’ve neglected to do of late due to the house and now I have my first cold in 8 months. I am a lot more conscious now of what I’m eating than I was a few years ago and my body is thanking me for it. I’ve also lost a stone in excess weight and have bulked up, grrr manly.

Anyway, Hannabella is now going on the Aitkins diet.

This really fucks me off.

1.) The Aitkins diet may make you lose weight (mainly water), but you also lose a lot of the good bits of your body and can really fuck yourself up.

2.) We all know and regularly tell Han, if she cut down on the beer intake then she'd lose weight. You have to cut out beer on Aitkins, so she will lose weight - but she'll thank Aitkins and not us!

Han does so much exercise, even more than me (although she does have a lot more spare time, student!), and she has lost a lot of weight but obviously feels she needs to lose more.

Aitkins is SO not the way for her to lose weight. She is a student who drinks a lot, she also does a lot of sport. Both of these together mean she:

Hurts her kidneys and liver due to excess alcohol intake
Is permanently fighting off dehydration due to sports + hangovers
Needs to have a higher calorific intake than normal people
Puts a lot more pressure on high bones and joints
And because she does (small!) weights and lots of running, she needs protein to help repair and replace the muscle.

And in a nicely ordered list, the side effects of Aitkins:

Possible kidney problems
Ketosis (high levels of blood acids)
Potassium and calcium depletion,
Muscle weakening

I can draw you pictures if you like...!

Hannabella, please stop being so stupid (and filling up the fridge with cream and other crap) and just cut out beer from your diet. Each pint you consume contains as many calories as a mars bar, just cut out beer (which you have to do for Aitkins anyway!) and I promise you’ll lose weight.

Fucking Aitkins, fucking bollocks. Simple equation for weight loss: If Calories In is less than Calories used then you'll lose weight.

Weekender rehashed

Last weekend was a great laugh.

Saturday I got a few more things done on the flat, including replacing a P-trap (that’s U-bend to you lot) which is an entirely unpleasant experience and put me off ever becoming a plumber. Mario, I got you through all of Donkey Kong and Wario’s temper tantrums, damned if I’m going to help you with the day job.

Then over to Mr Bergh’s house for a braai….. We found that lighting the fire was thirsty work and so had to crack open the beers by 2PM. 5 hours of cooking later: 2 beer can chickens, 2 pork shoulders, 1 lump of beef, all roasted in my Weber and then we bbq’d several million sausages, 2 steaks etc, etc, and I was knackered.

And then I drank a lot.

And then the JD and lime shooters came out.

9AM on Sunday I’m driving to the rugby sevens and feeling like absolute poo. Thankfully Mav, who organised this effort, had a few ticket disasters to cheer me up:

He had to return the tickets because they were the wrong colour
He then had to go back to work on Saturday to pick the new ones up from his desk due to Friday lunch time beer related memory loss.
He accidentally bought the more expensive tickets
On the wrong side of the pitch (shadey side)
Where there were NO women
And plenty of fat chuffers

So, we drank the watered down awful tasting bitter, then tried the lager to find it equally awful and then moved onto coke so at least we’d sugar rush. I don’t get it, prime rugby stadium, crap beer. Awful. At least the rugby was good.

The best bits:
I got asked for my autograph as did the other boys.
We played rugby with the Italian team
Mav got a Fijian autograph.
The Kiwis did the Haka for us.

Monday and I headed back to Southampton at a leisurely pace. Put up the shower, decided on a shower screen rather than a curtain, put up my clock and generally cleaned up. Tonight I’ll be sorting out a cover for the big ugly heater and will paint the tiles in the bathroom….. oh the excitement. So much excitement, I’m even dragging along a little helper in the form of a Hannabella……