There are some things in this world a woman should never have to see and her own fat arse is one of them. I saw mine. In a mirror, two mirrors to be precise – not because my arse NEEDS two mirrors to be seen (it’s fat but not THAT fat) but because with two mirrors you can do that looking-back thing to see what everyone else sees and I wanted to see what my new combat pants look like (the internet sent them) so I rang Lottie to tell her to bring round the mirrors.
Eight panic attacks (severe enough for two heart attack scares) later and I realised I should have just stayed curious.
Listen to me, She-Hermits – Hermititis is BAD FOR THE ARSE. Very bad. If you’re in the early stages and you’re still able to go out of the house, GET IT SORTED OUT NOW before it gets any worse or your arse will spread like a fucking HUGE blancmange and after a few years it will SUFFOCATE YOU IN YOUR SLEEP. I’m about a year away from having to have scaffolding erected to hold the fucker up when I walk.
And that’s what’s done it, not WALKING. I used to walk all over the place, I loved walking, but now I can only walk round the house so many times before I’m LITERALLY bouncing off the walls with boredom – walk, walk, walk, walk, BOING, walk, walk, walk, walk, BOING, walk, walk, walk, walk, BOING.
So I’ve made a decision (HALLELUJAH!) and what I’ve decided is that from tomorrow I’m putting my arse ON A DIET.
This is my diet (below)
DOTTY’S FUCKING FAT ARSE DIET.
No more McCain’s Chippy Chips
No more Hobnobs (when I’ve scranned the two packets in the cupboard)
No more Double Gloucester cheese (which is FUCKING LOVELY when grated over a plateful of McCains’s Chippy Chips and thick Bisto gravy (beefy).
No more Goodfella’s Thin And Crispy Twelve Cheeses Pizza (AHA! Betcha didn’t expect me to eat Italian cuisine – I do have SOME secrets I don’t tell you all (y’all)).
I think that’s it.
As for exercise, I haven’t been able to do my own invention exercise (which you can find HERE – CLICK IT CLICK IT) because I can’t hear the Jaws music properly so I can’t tell when Jaws is circling close to my table. So I looked up arse exercises on the internet and found some that I’ll have a go at, but one I WON’T BE DOING is the one where you have to get down on all fours and cock your leg like a dog pissing on a lamp post. I might have a fat arse but I still have my DIGNITY.
I’ll let you know how it goes.