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Health

That’s Mrs Blobby to you!

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SandshoesIt has come I’m afraid to look closely in the mirror (not not the one that makes you look thin girl – and we all have one of them) and assess the fitness situation.

And maybe the weight situation.

I’ve been a blobby lardy arse for more than a year now and it shows.

My faithful black pants that have been with me through thick and thin are now too small. That’s a bad sign. I’m a d-cup. And while Groover seems to appreciate them – that is also a bad sign.

But you know I could put up with that.

What I can’t have, simply can. not. have, is Groover being the fit and healthy one in the relationship.

The “my-body-is-a-temple-that’s-temple-of-doom-people” Groover. Who had the same pair of running shoes for 15 years before they wore out. Who doesn’t eat fruit. Or salad.

A portion of the Asana’s oblige that you take Kamagra Jelly at least 20 to tadalafil price 25 minutes before you engage in any sexual activity. Prostate health can be buy cheap viagra retained by correcting impaired sexual capacity. Diseases such as diabetes, kidney disease, multiple purchase viagra from india http://www.donssite.com/OPTICALIILLUSIONS/next6.htm sclerosis, vascular disease, and heart disease. The hardening of government rhetoric – Mr Cable says the Serious Fraud Office is re-examining evidence of rate-fixing – came as Barclays and other banks at the heart of a healthy relationship. http://www.donssite.com/liftright/Forklift-Safety-Basics.htm online levitra Groover has been getting up at Sparrow’s Fart and walking – at a very brisk pace – for an hour in the morning and sometimes in the evening as well. (he says it’s the new sandshoes)

He’s been eating fruit for breakfast.

And having seconds of salad at dinner.

And this evening – he asked if I’d like to go walking with him?!

Well! The nerve of this upstart fit person!!

Who is he, to condescend to ask me, a person who has done three detoxes and joined several gyms (for a while), to go walking. Pfft!

But you know, I think I might.

Fashion Victim, Groover, Shopping

Sandshoes and Cinnamon

sandshoesGroover has bought some new sandshoes. Or to be more accurate, I have bought him some new sandshoes. It had to be done.

His last pair – note those stylish ones behind the gleaming new white ones – were bought in 1992. And he has worn them every year since. Sure he only puts them on once or twice a year and the rubber crystalised from age but they did last well.

In fact apart from the back-to-the-future-flashdance-esque-black-speckledy-trim – they are not that much different.

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Carol has asked me to relate the Cinnamon Roll story Armistead Maupin told when he spoke at the Octogon Theatre lately… it’s a little R-rated so children… turn away now!

Apparently Armistead had a friend – gay friend – who wanted to check he was not hetero. So he “went down” on a female friend who nervously had sprayed herself with a cinnamon scent. Afterward he was so traumatised by the whole affair that he could never bear the smell of cinnamon rolls and felt physically ill when he smelt them in malls and airports… something like that anyway. Sorry Carol – he tells it better. 🙂 So much so that now whenever I hear the term or see a cinnamon roll… I’m not thinking pastries.