I got two emails today from my blogger pals asking me ‘How fat are you?’ Cheeky bastards! Fat enough to tell everyone I know I am on a diet- is how fucking fat I am!
I know it is crunch time as all that fits me round the fat ass is the old purpley linen cropped trousers I bought last year and to be honest its not really cropped linen trouser time…the fucking rain tells me that.
Guess what? It’s stopped raining and the sun is here…hurrah just in time for me to wear my cropped purpley things for the last time this year! I know I am extra fat as none of the bra’s I bought will encompass my overflowing fat boobies…not a good look.
So here I am eating stuff like buck wheat, lentils, millet and hemp…I know! - How much does that sound like the stuff you feed a fucking scary owl?
I have an owl’s diet…no doubt I will get ‘bird flu’.
I read in the papers today that we have to watch out for dead birds…when I was in Edinburgh at the Fringe; there were dead pigeons out on that back court daily, it was either bird flu or angry killer rats that ran a protection racket which saw the ill-fated pigeons fail on a payment and end up on the pavement. Hey I know rat lingo…!
So having eaten food that sounds like Japanese torture techniques, I must have lost some weight this week eh? Failing that I will turn into one of those middle class hippy type people who un-wrap an organic cucumber on the tube and nibble it between stops as I tuck my organic hemp, hand dyed skirt under my hairy thighs and wrap up my unruly grey hair (dyeing it is unhealthy) and go off down the platform looking for sick birds to rescue and tuck into a shoe box that used to contain non leather organic tofu sandals! That will be me.
I will go on weekend retreats that involve bead making and mung bean burgers stalls and teach myself re-birthing and pull a mini fat Janey made entirely from reclaimed cat fur from my vagina as ex-beaten housewives bang drums and chant tunes from dolphin dreams. After that we can all sit down to a big treat of lemon and dog eye herbal tea and talk about the wonders of the birth canal.
Ok that is never going to happen, but the strange thing is…I know that shit goes on somewhere and I am missing out on the fun of it all…
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