I've been around. I've travelled. I've been to all the major, principle European towns and cities ? Dover, Calais, Ibiza. I've even been to Paris, well the bit where Euro Disney is. And through my travels I have yet to see anything quite as absurd as the concept of middle aged adults using travelling apparatus which is slower than walking. And London, it seems, is the epicentre of such activity. The ISIS of travelling slower than walking.
Just the other day there was someone in Hyde Park operating what can only be described as a medieval torture device on wheels. You know the position that professional limbo dancers get in to? Well that , but also peddling. And with no saddle. And a line of sight obscured by bobbing knees. And this is supposed to constitute progress? When William Wallace was put on the rack by Edward Longshanks in the movie Braveheart, did the king of England go ? " I think we're missing a trick here with just a torture device, maybe if we stuck some wheels on it ". I think part of the problem is that we've quite simply lost the art of standing up to people and telling them to stop talking shit, or in this case inventing shit. I appreciate there are trolls and a lot of unpleasantness on the internet which is hugely regrettable but so much inadequate nonsense seems to be pervading into society on a daily basis without seemingly any resistance. Don't rely on the media, they've got their collective tongues so far up the celebrity establishment arse you're never going to see any opposing view point. Pick up any celebrity magazine these days and you'd be incredibly unlucky not to see a picture of a celebrity, normally arm in arm with their partner, looking gaunt, tired, depressed, complaining of the trauma and desperation of their battle with their weight. The article then goes onto say that they've lost 3 stone in 2 days but now the effort required to lose that last stone is on a par with the challenges immigrants are facing every day by risking their lives boarding sub- standard people trafficking ships to Europe followed by 1000's of miles of crossing mainland Europe on foot only then to try and avoid capture and deportment back to their original country of persecution. A TV news crew manages to interview a mother who has had to leave her family to pursue employment in Europe, she holds up a raw potato as evidence of all she had eaten that week- "All week? The lucky bitch, I'm only allowed half a raw potato, and that's on a green day "says the celebrity, disgusted that a malnutritionised, scared woman, who has had to abandon her kids is allowed more carbohydrate allowance than her.
We are always hearing of the pain and trauma a celebrity goes through to get in shape, but we never hear of the fun they had putting the weight on in the first place. The coming home and diving into a bath of Pringles, snorting lines of black forest gateau in nightclub toilets and having a hotel threesome with a lamb casserole and macaroni cheese. Their publicist letting them out the side door of the hotel to avoid the awaiting paparazzi. I currently possess what is popularly referred to these days as a " Dad Bod" , a popular social media title which is basically a euphemism for " lazy bastard". I've had a " Dad Bod" since I was 9 years old , quite disturbing to think that I could father children and wear socks with sandals from such a young age. "Dad Bod" is basically a polite way of saying that sweating on a hot day does not constitute exercise. Everyone exercises these days, even the dead have done a half marathon. "I'm doing a 10k this weekend?", "What's that? " you ask, " summit to do with computers?" , " no, stupid, it's a race for charity" , " and do you get all the money if you win?" "Of course not the money goes to a charity but it's not about the money", "Isn't it? " you say looking baffled " No, it's the fact that people see you doing it ". Expect a full page interview on the perils of the half raw potato diet very soon.
