Tag Archives: burger

Half arsed entry for a half pound burger

Sorry to be boring and talk about this crap again, but I’m very tired and need to go sleepsies soon. Anyway, I know you all secretly love every time I write about losing weight and that you all want me to succeed and feel every knock to my confidence when I hit bumps along the long, winding road of… umm… yeah. Whatever.

This has been the absolute worst week for my health kick since I started it all of not that long ago. From the “I’m so hungover, tired and drunk that I literally can’t do anything other than order some fried chicken” or last Sunday, through the stupid work stupid meeting after stupid hours where I stupidly got a stupid kebab and onto yesterday’s “yeah, whatever, pizza is fine” I’m not doing so well.

Naturally I just ordered a burger. I’m hungover and tired again, leave me be.

Hopefully when I weigh myself on Tuesday we can all see that I’ve lost some pounds and will therefore be able to continue this style of ‘not really doing it properly’ and just shoving my stupid face full of cheese and shit all the time.

Yeah, that’s your lot. No apologies for the shitness on show here. No retreat, no surrender, no remorse etc etc.

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BBQ-a-go-go

It’s officially barbeque season! I say this in full knowledge that many of you have already been to BBQs this year; fully taking advantage of that one sunny day we had two months ago. But I’ve called it now, and we all know I am the Master of Ceremonies when it comes to barbequeing, so shove that in your pipe, naysayers.

Anyway, what this means is we can now look forward to the slightest hint of sunshine being greeted with a mass flocking to the nearest supermarket to fleece the poor blighters of all their meat and assorted snack products. At least I’m fairly safe this time around, unlike in Leeds where the nearest Co-op was frequented by 90 per cent students, thus meaning everyone who shopped there had the same idea. And there were never enough burgers. No, this time around I’m in a half-real place with half-real people, so the mad meat rush shouldn’t be as frenzied.

Anyway, today is my first barbeque of the year. I say this and I don’t actually know for a fact if there is to be a barbeque at the party I’m off to. I’ve seen the word used somewhere at some point and I’ve just assumed the best, so off to Morrison’s (yes, I’m in the north) to buy a selection of crappy meats to shove in shitty baps.

Haha: “shitty baps”.

I will likely not report back with the success or failure of this barbeque mission, as I likely want to forget this entry ever existed. It has been written under severe duress as I prepare to leave the house for the day: something I never like doing. Wish me luck, children. (I’ve made myself hungry writing this)

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