"Fat to Fittie"

Losing weight at Christmas is almost impossible and it’s not just the food that’s a problem, wherever you look there’s alcohol, which for some reason is given a festive twist. At what other time would you ever consider drinking gingerbread beer, Christmas pudding Vodka or cinnamon lager? Okay, I made the last one up, but it’s only a matter of time. For some reason they think that we’re gullible enough to get into the spirit and give these weird flavours a go, trouble is, they’re right. Quite often they taste like shit and you may only have one, but that doesn’t matter to the company as they’ve bumped the price right up, while doubling the sugar content. You may not lose the pounds physically, but you can be assured, before the season’s over there’s a lot of them missing from your bank account.

I do admit though, one drink I indulge in at Christmas is Port, I love it, of course it’s associated with Henry the eighth and is blamed for giving him the gout that blighted his life and eventually led to his death. It also caused him to become massively obese, shrunk his penis and made him impotent, perhaps I should consider knocking it on the head. Lets be honest, it’s not a great look, fine I suppose if you’re the king of England, but for us ordinary folk, it makes picking up girls as hard as becoming a brain surgeon on the moon. It can though have it’s plus side, when entertaining a lady, mix it with prosecco, a little pomegranate juice, then bash some seeds into the glass and voila, you become a cocktail connoisseur with the sex appeal of Tom Hardy in a thong.

Another problem at this time of year, is the fact we seem to drink nearly every day, with everyone using the age old quote to justify our piss head ways, “Come on, it’s Christmas”, it feels like the whole world uses the same excuse. At this time I put my hot tub up and as a treat make about 18 bottles of mead and place them in a plastic dispenser right next to it, so easy to just reach across for a top up while having a soak. For the last few days I’ve been looking at the full container, thinking, I’ll wait till the weekend before cracking it open, got a friend coming round and we can put a dent in it together, sadly that virginal moment has now gone. As I was preparing to get in earlier, for some unknown reason I decided to put the inflatable lid leaning against the mead. It was about 60 seconds before I realised the sound of trickling water was not coming from the excess usually caught in the cover, but was actually my precious mead, gutted doesn’t even come close, about 3 bottles now covering my decking. Yes I did consider licking it up but the night before I’d knocked the bucket I pee in over at the same spot. Some of you may be thinking “You pee in a bucket next to the tub”? well yes I do, it’s a long way to the toilet and my crippled hips make the journey even harder, despite the fact I swilled it down, even I’m not that desperate.