Regime

What on earth are you up to?

The good lady enquired from the kitchen doorway.

I put the jar of home-pickled jalapenos down, chewing madly whilst making a dog drinking beer face.

The regime baby. Bingo wings gonna be gone.

She fixed me with an incredulous look.

Are you seriously telling me that is what you are having for your breakfast? Pickled jalapenos?

Yeah baby. Wasn't it Copernicus that said "Go big or go home?"

I stuck another one in my mouth wincing at the combination of wild heat and tarty cider vinegar.

You're nuts. You need to take care of yourself.

Don't worry lass, I am having coffee too.

I waved my hand smugly at my coffee that was brewing.

Eat something proper!

She rolled her eyes to the moon and back and stomped out. I put the lid back on the jar. Silly good lady. Didn't she know that to get rid of bingo wings and quivering moobs you had to take it to the max?

Since my awful bingo wings revelation earlier in the week I have been going full on boom. Sticking to a regime that is not for the faint of heart. I am fully determined to get quickly back to my recklessly handsome self so that I can wow the local wildlife and be accorded the respect that a man of such mannity deserves.

After my hearty repast of pickled jalapenos. (You should pickle your own, much better than that shop bought tosh.) I headed out to work.

The morning passed in a blizzard of caffeine, water and urinating and then it was lunchtime.

Time for the gym.

Although I have been a member of my cheapo gym for some time, I must confess, to my shame, that I have really not been going since the start of the year. Sleepless nights and birthday celebrations have put me off my stride a little. So it was fair to say that I didn't strut in with my quite my usual bullish confidence.

I decided to start with a little stretching. Ha, this was easy. I was slaying the gym!

I finished my stretching. Right. Time for this room to go boom.

The free weight section was quite heavily populated. I grabbed a couple of heavy dumbbells, winking at myself in one of the mirrored walls. I started to work out.

Ten minutes later, sweat was pishing out of every pore that I had and my arms were twitching like my old Aunt Hilda after a couple of vodkas.

I moved to the machines and managed another ten minutes. I noticed that my pre-ejaculatory gym groans had scared quite a number of people off.

I decided that enough was enough and I had made a good enough start.

Back in the office I feebly flopped around in my chair like a stranded jellyfish for a few hours letting out the odd whimper. Occasionally I mustered the strength to sit up straight and answer an email or two before escaping home.

On the way home I congratulated myself on an amazing week of sticking to the regime. Heck, at this rate I will be back to my old self in absolutely no time at all!

I opened the door to the family home and stepped inside. Immediately I smelled something amazing. Something spicy and cheesy and tomato'y. Like a zombie I followed the scent into the living room. The family were all at the table and before them was a couple of giant pizza boxes.

Daddy!

Both the little lady and the good lady shouted through melty mozarella mouths.

You joining us for some pizza Daddy bear?

I thought about the watery, shitey soup that I had been planning to have. As I did, the good lady waved a big slice of spicy devil pizza at me.

Pah, did she think me so weak? This was bingo wing removal week! There was no way I would fold and just eat giant clumps of melty cheese on a tasty pizza base with loads of toppings. No sirree Bob!

Daddy is strong! Daddy is fierce! Daddy is...

Grinning like a buffoon with a slice of pizza in his hand, chewing on a big corner of joy...

Ah fuck it, it's Friday!