You know how some days you feel really confident and you look in the mirror and think, yeah I look pretty good. Well today was not one of those days! Today was more like, why does everything I put on make me look like the magic pudding? It was one of those days!
I stupidly stepped onto the scales the other day only to be horrified yet again by my findings. Surprise, sur-fucking -prise! When am I going to learn to steer clear of that fucking thing? It majorly wrecks my mojo every damn time! I think that I am going to have a ceremonial smashing of the scales at my place because I don't think that I have been pleased with the numbers that I seen on them for around twenty odd years, so why the fuck am I still doing this shit to myself? They need to be destroyed, a scale sacrifice is in order!
If I am willing to be totally honest with myself, I would have to admit that it really has nothing to do with the scales and everything to do with the way that I feel in my own skin right now. I don't feel terrific. I know that I have put on a few kilos and I feel like shit about it. For some reason I always feel like I am failing at something tremendously important when I put on weight, which is totally ridiculous I know, but I do.
Losing weight is such a bloody bore, I really hate dieting and not eating what I like. And even though I am totally committed to my daily yoga routine, it's not doing me any favours in the weight loss stakes. In fact, I think that I have gotten bigger since I have been regularly practising; how is that possible? I would like to try and convince you all that it is just extra muscle weight that I have gained, but nah...I don't even have enough bullshit to lay that one down and make it stick. I'm pretty sure that the extra roll that has appeared on my tummy is not muscle, but just plain fat. Fat that is made up of butter, whiskey, dark chocolate and cheese. Why? Oh why does all the delicious stuff have to be so bad for you? And shouldn't a person be rewarded for doing more exercise and giving up smoking? Getting an extra layer of fat hardly seems fair to me, and unless I am moving to the North Pole soon, it is also useless to me!
I know that I am too smart to allow a stupid fucking number on a scale to define me, or my worth, but god it sucks when I don't see what I am hoping for when I look down at that digital pad. Curses on scales I say, and curses on the stupid stereotypes that we allow ourselves to be defined by in this mixed up, muddle up world of ours. I'm tired of feeling depressed and putting pressure on myself to be something else, it is seriously no way to live. Who really cares about a few extra kilos anyway?
Unfortunately I do, I really do. And as much as I would love to throw those bloody scales in the bin, I am also terrified that if I just completely let go that I will turn into the Michelin Man within 12 months. AHHHHH! It's bloody salad time again, but I'm not happy about it. Not happy about my weight or my lack of self confidence to just be who I am. Boo to me, this routine is getting so fricken old! Someone just shoot me in the head and save me from my own bullshit please, that would shave off a few unwanted pounds of ugly for sure!
I stupidly stepped onto the scales the other day only to be horrified yet again by my findings. Surprise, sur-fucking -prise! When am I going to learn to steer clear of that fucking thing? It majorly wrecks my mojo every damn time! I think that I am going to have a ceremonial smashing of the scales at my place because I don't think that I have been pleased with the numbers that I seen on them for around twenty odd years, so why the fuck am I still doing this shit to myself? They need to be destroyed, a scale sacrifice is in order!
If I am willing to be totally honest with myself, I would have to admit that it really has nothing to do with the scales and everything to do with the way that I feel in my own skin right now. I don't feel terrific. I know that I have put on a few kilos and I feel like shit about it. For some reason I always feel like I am failing at something tremendously important when I put on weight, which is totally ridiculous I know, but I do.
Losing weight is such a bloody bore, I really hate dieting and not eating what I like. And even though I am totally committed to my daily yoga routine, it's not doing me any favours in the weight loss stakes. In fact, I think that I have gotten bigger since I have been regularly practising; how is that possible? I would like to try and convince you all that it is just extra muscle weight that I have gained, but nah...I don't even have enough bullshit to lay that one down and make it stick. I'm pretty sure that the extra roll that has appeared on my tummy is not muscle, but just plain fat. Fat that is made up of butter, whiskey, dark chocolate and cheese. Why? Oh why does all the delicious stuff have to be so bad for you? And shouldn't a person be rewarded for doing more exercise and giving up smoking? Getting an extra layer of fat hardly seems fair to me, and unless I am moving to the North Pole soon, it is also useless to me!
I know that I am too smart to allow a stupid fucking number on a scale to define me, or my worth, but god it sucks when I don't see what I am hoping for when I look down at that digital pad. Curses on scales I say, and curses on the stupid stereotypes that we allow ourselves to be defined by in this mixed up, muddle up world of ours. I'm tired of feeling depressed and putting pressure on myself to be something else, it is seriously no way to live. Who really cares about a few extra kilos anyway?
Unfortunately I do, I really do. And as much as I would love to throw those bloody scales in the bin, I am also terrified that if I just completely let go that I will turn into the Michelin Man within 12 months. AHHHHH! It's bloody salad time again, but I'm not happy about it. Not happy about my weight or my lack of self confidence to just be who I am. Boo to me, this routine is getting so fricken old! Someone just shoot me in the head and save me from my own bullshit please, that would shave off a few unwanted pounds of ugly for sure!
LOCK, STOCK AND TWO SMOKING BARRELS
Release Date: 1998
Rating: MA 15+
Running Time: 107 mins
Guy Ritchie's first full-length movie feature, which he penned and directed, introducing us to the underworld of British crime and kicking off the careers of Jason Statham and former Welsh football player Vinnie Jones. Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels received favourable reviews, quickly gaining a cult following and receiving a nomination for a British Film Award, and it is easy to see why, this is a hilarious and thoroughly enjoyable movie, that should be on everyone's must see list.
When a group of small time British crooks send their card shark mate Eddie into a notorious card game against the crime lord Hatchet Harry, there's no way that they can lose. But, of course, they do, and find themselves in way over their heads, and trying to come up with the $800,000 that they need to get out of it all, is not an easy task.
All of the violence of a Tarantino film, peppered with sharp wit and Cockney cheek, this film is a winner. Guy Ritchie has made this work in what feels like a slap dash manner, which gives the whole seedy nightmare a real edge and a very cool vibe. Expect to have a lot of fun with this film, it's not demanding to be taken seriously, this is one to just sit back and enjoy.
FINAL SAY: Bad breath, colourful language, feather duster....what do you think they're gonna be armed with?
4.5 Chili Peppers
Release Date: 1998
Rating: MA 15+
Running Time: 107 mins
Guy Ritchie's first full-length movie feature, which he penned and directed, introducing us to the underworld of British crime and kicking off the careers of Jason Statham and former Welsh football player Vinnie Jones. Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels received favourable reviews, quickly gaining a cult following and receiving a nomination for a British Film Award, and it is easy to see why, this is a hilarious and thoroughly enjoyable movie, that should be on everyone's must see list.
When a group of small time British crooks send their card shark mate Eddie into a notorious card game against the crime lord Hatchet Harry, there's no way that they can lose. But, of course, they do, and find themselves in way over their heads, and trying to come up with the $800,000 that they need to get out of it all, is not an easy task.
All of the violence of a Tarantino film, peppered with sharp wit and Cockney cheek, this film is a winner. Guy Ritchie has made this work in what feels like a slap dash manner, which gives the whole seedy nightmare a real edge and a very cool vibe. Expect to have a lot of fun with this film, it's not demanding to be taken seriously, this is one to just sit back and enjoy.
FINAL SAY: Bad breath, colourful language, feather duster....what do you think they're gonna be armed with?
4.5 Chili Peppers
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