Tag Archives: farting

Una Paloma Blanca !

If there are a few things I have learned in my near on 45 years on this planet, Algebra, Trigonometry and Transposition of Formulas are not three of them – although I will be attempting to learn those again early next year.

No, but I have learned a few things, specifically this week, I have been learning about Gym things – let me share them with you.

1. Why do people drive to the gym to then use a running machine?  How about you run to the gym, don’t go in, turn around and run home.  Saving yourself the gym membership and the cost of fuel in your 5.0 ltr V8 monster truck and getting a run out in the real world!

2. Better still, why the hell would you go to the Gym to use a step machine?  How about you head to the pikey flats around the corner and climb the stairs to the top (guaranteed the lift will be out-of-order or at least stinking of piss so much you wont want to use it).  If you really want to hot things up, you can knock on the drug dealers door and tell him you are selling on his patch, then see who can make it to the 12th floor first.

3.  The Gym is not a social club – Social Clubs are for socialising so go there instead.  There is nothing worse than watching a 50 something man, cheesing all over the women in the gym, leave them alone !  One guy at my gym, gets off his machine and gets onto the one next to the chicks and then constantly talks to them, worse still, he talks across the gym to them too, so I have to hear it over my headphones.

4.  If you are one of those women that likes the attention of the cheesing saddo’s mentioned above – please bear in mind that if you put as much effort into your workout as you do talking to the Cheese Meister – your arse would be half the size it actually is.  With a smaller, lighter arse, your big 5.0 ltr V8 monster truck won’t use quite so much fuel and you will be more attractive to less cheesier options.

5. Lastly but by no means least – NEVER FART IN THE GYM.  People are breathing hard, the last thing I need is to have to chew the eggy air around me after someone has dropped their guts in front of the vent for the air conditioning. What is wrong with you fucktards ?

 

There, moan over.  I got my first puncture on my new bike this weekend.  Quite a hefty one too

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And if that wasn’t enough for me, I also found some Chimay Blue for my troubles

 

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Now all said and done – the beer went down well with a Pizza – and me still weighing in at a pokey 88kgs !!  I am still left wondering how I managed to pick up suck a big nail on a bike tyre (sorry ‘tire’ for any yanks reading) but as a kid, I could always find punctures too – thankfully I was taught well on how to fix them.

Boulder, Colorado is drawing closer although I saw on the news today in the Gym while rowing hard and chewing eggy air that there was heavy snow on the mountains.  We have a saying on boats – there is no such thing as bad weather, just the wrong clothes.  Well, I have one lightweight army jacket with me and 4 T-shirts (5 if you include the FHRITP.com) so I might struggle a bit.

There, I think I am done for the evening, just want to leave you with a footnote.  In the 70’s when I hit the social club scene pretty hard with the parents, there was a song that everyone sang. Una Paloma Blanca. Turns out Paloma is spanish for Pidgeon, all this time they were singing about a white Pidgeon and I bet no-one knew.  If you need help remembering the song, check out the link below, turn up the volume, roll down your flares and file me under groovey.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQK9k42ongU

Ah, rocking the Bedworth Working Mens Club, Radae Club, Roots at Ryton – man alive they were the days – Brownsover Social Club


It comes with age

Yesterday morning whilst out walking I felt the urgent need to poo.  Problem was, I was already 2 miles into my walk and had a dilemma. Should I now take the shortest route back to the house or continue with my planned route hoping I could successfully hold the poo?

As a kid, we regularly had competitions to see who could hold a poo for the longest, and as kids, we seemed to do much better, 4 or 5 days at a time was not unusual – or that’s what I seem to remember.  Midway through my life ( I guess that’s about where I am at 42) I seem to be able to hold a poo for  a significantly shorter period of time, sometimes an hour or two can seem an impossibility.  This of course worries me greatly because in another 30 years or so, at the same rate of deterioration, by the time I have thought that I need a poo, it will already be rolling down my trouser leg to the floor, which might lead to some very embarrassing moments at the Post Office counter, or in the bakers shop, or worse still, Crown Court as a Juror ! ‘Permission to be excused m’lord – I just shat on the floor’!

I digress!

I opted for the shortest route back but that was still a mile and a half.  With a good pace on it is harder to hold a poo but at a slower pace, it would take me longer to get back – it was a serious dilemma.  It was still before 7am so I did consider a quick squat in a bush, no-one was around to see me, I could get away with it if I really had to.  I let the pressure off as much as possible by farting when I felt brave and clenching when not so brave.

I was by now creating a picture in my mind, and this is something we have all done I promise – getting back to the house, 100 yards out, belt loosened, trousers unbuttoned, door key out at the ready, not even shutting the front door behind me, getting to the bowl, dropping my pants and lifting the seat in unison and before seated, letting rip!  What if I got all that right and fumbled the seat?  It could all end in a shitty disaster.

And it gets worse – as you think about that picture, the need to poo becomes more intense – now it’s in mind games territory.  Don’t think about the build up of pressure and it will subside, think about it and you will be filling your pants a mile too early and then have to squelch the next mile hoping you don’t bump into anyone you know – now that would be a serious walk of shame, more serious than the morning after with a ‘Nora’!

Disappointingly for my readers – a mile into the remaining trip, I got it all under control and made it back in a timely fashion.  I was so moved by the whole experience, I thought I should share it with you.

 

On a more springtime note – what is with the weather?  It snowed yesterday and almost got down to freezing point!  I am expecting to be greeted with a Spinney full of bluebells one morning soon, so I may have to take my camera out with me – there is something hugely pleasing about walking through the woods with a carpet of bluebells