Sueing Adrian Chiles

I'm not sure why but i once read an interview with Adrian Chiles. He said he gave up bread, potatoes and pasta and the weight 'fell off him'. He lost three stone. Adrian doesn't look like a liar. So i gave up bread, pasta and lovely potatoes. But I haven't lost any weight. None. I think I've put on a pound and a half actually.

I think i know the reason...

I spoke to my mum yesterday and she said 'What are you replacing bread with?' and i thought for a moment and then i said 'cheese'.

And also i realised early on that even if i can't eat crisps, i can eat pork scratchings.

I looked at the Adrian Chiles interview again today. I stared at the photo. Adrian Chiles is fat. I've taken diet advice from a fat man. I didn't think this through.

The curse of Nelly Furtado

It sounds like a herd of bisson are charging away from a landslide. It looks like Matt Lucus in a wig having a coronary. It's me on the treadmill.

So why? Why? Do i have the song Maneater by Nelly Furtado on repeat when i do it?
(If you're unfamiliar with this melodic masterpiece, it starts like so...
Everybody look at me, me I walk in the door you start screaming Come on everybody what chu here for? Move your body around like a nympho)

I always saw myself as a nice folk musicy sort of a girl. But when i'm on the treadmill with Nelly I become badass....and kickass....and it's scary...but more-ish at the same time.... like, when you were little, leaning back on your chair when your mum told you not to ....or now you're grown up doing tequila shots in the early hours when you have work in the morning.

I'm doing it!

For two days now i haven't smoked or eaten sugar or bread..(that's bread Bread, BREAD, lovely sour dough bread, toasted bagels, granary bread, crumpets, muffins, dirty white bread, Bread, BREAD)
..or potatoes, as in chips, roast potatoes...(i can't even type roast potatoes without needing one of those spit suckers they have in the dentist)
....and as for the exercise...
i have done an hour of yoga each day and had both my 20 minute runs (on a treadmill..sounded like a herd of bison were in the room..nearly fell off it when i tried to turn Nelly Fertado's Maneater up on the ipod)...but didn't die so that was a bonus-what i hadn't factored in is that i can't now move...it hurt to pick up my lap top to type this....a stenner stairlift would wipe the floor with me going upstairs and there would be no hope of me getting downstairs again without somesort of gurney......and because i have had two days of food denial and exercise when i look in the mirror i expect to be thin, and taut and really rather hot.......but i'm not...I'm fat... fat as a town..that town being Tokyo...and i don't look hot..i look a bit mental because i really want a cigarette and i've had two brandies because the only way i can combat this change of lifestyle is to remain pleasantly pissed at all times....

only another 363 days to go...

bollocks