Day 163
Bad news.
Taking leave of her senses, the current Mrs. Snowman has decided that I am to go on a diet. I’m not sure if it’s the unusual amount of sport currently being broadcast into the house or that I no longer have a pair of trousers that fit correctly but as from today I’m on a food regime.
Clearly I was not present during the decision making process so it came as something of a shock when I was presented with her revised idea of breakfast.
Muesli.
Those who prefer their food to be edible are probably unaware of this so a word or two of explanation is warranted.
Imagine the bottom of a parrot’s cage that hasn’t been cleaned for a few weeks and then think about the little pellets of shit produced by a hamster. Loosely mix them together with the contents of a Hoover bag, throw it into a bowl, pour milk over it and lightly sprinkle with sugar. The resulting mess looks like dog sick and tastes like…well, what I’d imagine dock sick to taste like really.
Regardless of this vision, Mrs. Snowman was adamant.
“Eat up, it’s good for you”.
“Regurgitated vomit is good for me?”
“Well, you can eat it or wear it, it’s your choice”
Considering her enthusiasm I was surprised to have a selection.
Any potential decision was effectively made for me after I paused a fraction too long and she started tapping the handle of a kitchen knife in very menacing fashion. This was not an option I really wanted to contemplate if I failed to tuck in so I took a small mouthful as a sign of good faith and tentatively started to eat.
I shall not give you the precise details of what it’s like suffice to say I’d be very happy to meet the bastard who invented the stuff…for about five minutes in a soundproof room.
Far more worrying though was Mrs. Snowman’s insistence that I also have an exercise program to assist with the endeavour.
As you will no doubt recall, my idea of exercise is walking to the fridge to get a beer and lifting the television remote control in commercial breaks during movies but in conjunction with my repulsive new menu, the wife has insisted I perform some kind of daily work out.
If she thinks I’ll be transformed into some kind of Adonis with a lithe, muscular body and the looks of a matinee idol, I think she may be slightly disappointed.
“Pissing in the wind” was the exact phrase that came to mind.
For example, she tried to justify it thus:
“When was the last time you even ran up the stairs?”
“Last time you made a curry I would imagine”
Thwaaaack!
I had to concede her point as I wasn’t fast enough to avoid the slap.
“See, you’re so unfit you couldn’t even avoid those”
“Er…those?”
Thwaaaack!
“Yep, that one as well”
Maybe I do need to think about my fitness. If nothing else to avoid Mrs. Snowman’s retribution.
I think the poker gods were also in a mood for personal reckoning today.
20cents was invested in a cash game in between a couple of freerolls that lasted precisely fourteen minutes.
Fourteen minutes incidentally was my total combined time. I needn’t elaborate further but it may have been the lack of food that affected my judgment.
I’ll sneak in a couple of cream cakes tomorrow to assist in my impending victory.
Harping back momentarily to our previous discussion about the Olympics, it was reported today that four horses had failed drugs tests. This isn’t a gag; it seems there are performance enhancing drugs for animals.
Equine body-building stimulants would explain the physique of a few female eastern European shot-putters but this isn’t what I’m talking about.
I just wondered what the stable lads were asked to do after they’d completed their events for the day.
Probably put them out to grass.
From what I can gather the horses got stoned too.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $2.07
Taking leave of her senses, the current Mrs. Snowman has decided that I am to go on a diet. I’m not sure if it’s the unusual amount of sport currently being broadcast into the house or that I no longer have a pair of trousers that fit correctly but as from today I’m on a food regime.
Clearly I was not present during the decision making process so it came as something of a shock when I was presented with her revised idea of breakfast.
Muesli.
Those who prefer their food to be edible are probably unaware of this so a word or two of explanation is warranted.
Imagine the bottom of a parrot’s cage that hasn’t been cleaned for a few weeks and then think about the little pellets of shit produced by a hamster. Loosely mix them together with the contents of a Hoover bag, throw it into a bowl, pour milk over it and lightly sprinkle with sugar. The resulting mess looks like dog sick and tastes like…well, what I’d imagine dock sick to taste like really.
Regardless of this vision, Mrs. Snowman was adamant.
“Eat up, it’s good for you”.
“Regurgitated vomit is good for me?”
“Well, you can eat it or wear it, it’s your choice”
Considering her enthusiasm I was surprised to have a selection.
Any potential decision was effectively made for me after I paused a fraction too long and she started tapping the handle of a kitchen knife in very menacing fashion. This was not an option I really wanted to contemplate if I failed to tuck in so I took a small mouthful as a sign of good faith and tentatively started to eat.
I shall not give you the precise details of what it’s like suffice to say I’d be very happy to meet the bastard who invented the stuff…for about five minutes in a soundproof room.
Far more worrying though was Mrs. Snowman’s insistence that I also have an exercise program to assist with the endeavour.
As you will no doubt recall, my idea of exercise is walking to the fridge to get a beer and lifting the television remote control in commercial breaks during movies but in conjunction with my repulsive new menu, the wife has insisted I perform some kind of daily work out.
If she thinks I’ll be transformed into some kind of Adonis with a lithe, muscular body and the looks of a matinee idol, I think she may be slightly disappointed.
“Pissing in the wind” was the exact phrase that came to mind.
For example, she tried to justify it thus:
“When was the last time you even ran up the stairs?”
“Last time you made a curry I would imagine”
Thwaaaack!
I had to concede her point as I wasn’t fast enough to avoid the slap.
“See, you’re so unfit you couldn’t even avoid those”
“Er…those?”
Thwaaaack!
“Yep, that one as well”
Maybe I do need to think about my fitness. If nothing else to avoid Mrs. Snowman’s retribution.
I think the poker gods were also in a mood for personal reckoning today.
20cents was invested in a cash game in between a couple of freerolls that lasted precisely fourteen minutes.
Fourteen minutes incidentally was my total combined time. I needn’t elaborate further but it may have been the lack of food that affected my judgment.
I’ll sneak in a couple of cream cakes tomorrow to assist in my impending victory.
Harping back momentarily to our previous discussion about the Olympics, it was reported today that four horses had failed drugs tests. This isn’t a gag; it seems there are performance enhancing drugs for animals.
Equine body-building stimulants would explain the physique of a few female eastern European shot-putters but this isn’t what I’m talking about.
I just wondered what the stable lads were asked to do after they’d completed their events for the day.
Probably put them out to grass.
From what I can gather the horses got stoned too.
Starting bank: $0
Current bank: $2.07