Sunday, May 18, 2008

Wasted.

I'm glad that at least a couple of folks enjoyed my poetic answer to the doggerel artist's cheeky query about my grossly supersized frame. My only defence is that I piled on some weight when I stopped smoking (just eating sweets all day eventually has an effect).... Once I stopped smoking I also developed a liking for a nice pint. I don't drink large quantities of beer (except for the odd festival or two), but I do enjoy a tipple, and of course that also has a detrimental effect on ones waistline.

Truth be know.... my poetry was in fact written whilst I was a bit drunk on Friday night. I know I shouldn't drink and blog, but no harm done.... THIS time!!

And so.... wasted......

We went out last night to meet some of my old work colleagues.... Adam, Don, Emma, Gary, and Stu (and a couple of Emma's friends too) painted a bit of Huddersfield a dazzling shade of crimson. I think it's fair to say that everyone was a bit worse for wear (except Stu, who was driving) and none more so than Dawn, whom I had to nurse back to health during today after what can only be described as a "rough night".

So, today's been a wasted day. Perhaps that's where the term "wasted" originates?

Ironically, everyone last evening that I haven't seen for quite a long time now commented on the fact that they thought I'd lost weight.... how odd?? I haven't actually lost any weight (I don't think) - I'm somewhere around 14 and a quarter stones!! What I have noticed though, is how much better I carry myself since I started training on Wii Fit. It's all about posture!

On that note, an image of an applauding taxi driver flashes back into my mind as he observed my attempt at the "king of the dance" yoga pose on the street corner last evening.

Note to self.... drink + yoga = silly idea!!

3 comments:

  1. A Doggerel Artist Hat TrickMonday, 19 May, 2008

    At fourteen and a quarter stones,
    Including all the meat and bones,
    A fair old lump and no mistake,
    And all from beer and too much cake.

    The Fox is growing rather large,
    His nights spent in the Rat or Barge.
    His size becoming such a wonder,
    His clothing nearly rent asunder.

    Ten pints or more it soon will take,
    The giant Fox's thirst to slake
    His need for beer so raveneous,
    The intake's now intravenous.

    A troubled Fox and growing girth,
    And rhyming comments, filled with mirth.
    Just what will help Fox reach his zen?
    Perhaps an ale filled Scammonden?

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  2. a fat fox, hey? now why be that, with all the biking and walking you do ... ahh, it be the beer, then. that be it.

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  3. Hey, I was trying to look up a poem I remembered from school and found your blog. You're good. :-)

    'my god I'm dead the young man said when he saw his battered head petalled on the crimson sand' really stuck in my mind.

    You remember more, including the author. I also remember one about a guy being electricuted on a pylon!!!! They were both in a poetry book I studied for O level English. Any idea how to get a copy of that book?

    Anyway - I agree, beer and yoga don't mix... I tried it one sunday afternoon and fell over quite spectacularly....

    :-)

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