We must, we must...

we must improve our bust...


After having quite the worst outing on the river on Monday, I've been hitting the gym hard-core. I spent 30 minutes on the erg, followed by 30 minutes on the Ladymaker. The 'Ladymaker' is my name for the cross trainer thing on which men never look good despite providing a really good work-out. Then some leg exercises. Today it's an upper body day...maybe shoulders and chest. I'll soon look like Joan Collins with HUGE shoulder pads a la Dynasty or perhaps Dolly Parton. I'm not fussed.

Anyway, I feel much better for putting myself through the paces at the gym. A good session at the gym makes a crap day feel just a bit less crap.

Have booked my flight to India in January. 3 weeks of iodine tablets, anti-malarial pills, dysentery, poverty etc...should be good though.

Currently listening to Agnus Dei from Schubert's Mass in G.

My Jaffa Cake addiction seems to be in hand. I've not had a single one in over a week, which is the longest I've gone without one. Fingers crossed and all that. This means so much to me and my family and friends. I hope I don't fall off the wagon.

Actually it doesn't really mean anything at all to me. I can quit whenever I want to.

Had a drink with Ivan yesterday at The King's Arms. Double Chocolate Ale is cheap and good. If only everything could be the same. We had a good long chat about this and that and decided we should go out together but quickly discounted that idea.

Good lyrics:

"Went to a party
Danced all night
Drank 16 beers
Started up a fight"

Sounds better sung in a French accent.

Now listening to: Friday Night, Saturday Morning by Nouvelle Vague.