Saturday 20 November 2010

Take Two Pairs of Socks on a Run? Too Right..............

I have a dilemma.

Today, I was bought a present. Now, don't get me wrong, I am not in any way ungrateful. Especially when they were bought by the much beloved Mrs B. And I asked her to get them. But, now I have got them, I'm not too sure.

I am talking about a pair of running tights.

Well, I say running tights, but in all honesty, quite what the difference is between them and ordinary tights is beyond me. Apart from the fact that this is the first time I have worn the running variety.

Mrs B got me two sizes to try. Medium and large. One look at the large was all I needed. I'm too scared to go anywhere near the medium.

So, I hold them up in front of me, eying them suspiciously. All I can think is "This ain't gonna be pretty".

"Well, try them on then" says Mrs B encouragingly, with more than a twinkle in her eye.

I take off my standard jogging bottoms and put them on. Now, when I say 'put' them on, I mean wrestle, cajole, fight, squeeze, and generally pour myself into them. After much 'rearranging', I stand in front of her for her opinion.

She collapses on the floor in uncontrollable, hysterical laughter walks slowly around me, taking it all in.

"Look" she says. "They have a little pocket at the back". I feel. Sure enough, right in the middle, and slightly above the 'pant melons', is a little pocket with a zip. I'm not saying these things are snug, but if I put a pound coin in that pocket, you would be able to tell if it was 'heads or tails'.

And that's not all you could tell about me.

You can see EVERY little detail about the lower half of my body, with these damn things on. The varicose veins, the spot on my left bum cheek. Heck, you can even see my pulse! I could have gone to the local automotive supplies shop, bought a can of black paint, and sprayed THAT on the lower half of my body. AND made the whole job look like I was wearing clowns trousers compared to these things.

Honestly, all that's missing as far as I'm concerned, is the Tu Tu, and the cod piece.

And therein lies the problem. I do not have the 'equipment' to wear this type of clothing. It was all fine and dandy for Lindford 'Lunchbox' Christie. In fact, how he managed to run without tripping over his 'cucumber' was nothing short of miraculous.

It's just that I am less 'cucumber'. And more 'pickled gherkin'. And the last, smallest one, that always gets left in the jar too.

And the cold weather is certainly not my friend at the moment either. It's getting too cold for shorts now. The trouble is, it's also too cold to wear the tights.

And another problem. In a race, there is quite a lot of tight clothing around. And some of the female runners look rather good in it. Should I be following one of them, and the 'gerbil wakes up in his cage'  beast roars from it's cage, it'll make national headlines.

And, if Ned Flanders shows up in HIS mega tight all in one ski suit, forget it! 

I am going to have to run around the whole race, saying to myself over and over again "Think unsexy thoughts". "Think unsexy thoughts".

So, you see my dilemma. Do I run in shorts, and get bloody cold, or do I run with the tights, and risk being known as action man, with moving eyes, a big gun, and no penis.

Or, I've just thought of a third option, and also the title for this blog. Take an extra pair of socks. For 'enhancement' purposes.

P.T.F.O.

Monday 1 November 2010

Cucumbers seem to be getting a raw deal lately......

Last night, I had trouble sleeping. I know we all suffer with a touch of insomnia at some point. The truth is, I thought I had nothing on my mind.

Until today.

Now, some of you have been directed here, by somebody whom I shall refer to as 'My Right Honorable Friend'. If I call him a friend, he gets all silly, and starts giggling like a schoolgirl. And if you saw the way he dresses at the weekends, the laugh REALLY is a bridge too far.

The term 'My Right Honorable Friend', as many of you know, is used in parliament when when one politician is talking about another one in the house of commons. And my guess is that they use the term because it's more polite than phrases like 'That festering turd from the opposition', or 'The scheming, back stabbing, good for nothing, expense robbing freeloader'.

In this case, let's say it replaces the phrase, 'Cynical, festering turd from three doors down'.

Just for arguments sake, of course!

Now, before I move on, for those of you who wandered onto this page by total accident, firstly, bad luck. And secondly, it may help you to read THIS first. It just might help you make sense of the rest of this. I emphasize the word MIGHT.

It will also be a minor miracle if the link works.

Well what are you waiting for, GO. NOW. I'll just stand here, arms crossed, tapping my foot impatiently until you get back.

Well, you took your time didn't you? If I'd have known you'd be this long, I would have painted the ceiling. (Work it out, will ya!)

Now I don't know about you, but when I first read the blog of 'My Right Honorable Friend', It seemed he had gone quite mad. Indeed, I thought he had sat at his laptop, and typed the words 'Bitch, Whine, Whinge', over and over and over again.

It wasn't until I re-read that I realised that he has a genuine ability to write in a witty, interesting way. And, I am not being sarcastic here. 'My Right Honorable Friends' literacy skills border on the genius in my view. And I am sure I am not alone in this view.

Which is just as well. Because one or two of his other talents, have COMPLETELY deserted him.

Now, I have known for some time, that 'My Right Honorable Friend' has had problems with his running. And it would have been the easiest thing in the world to make fun, tease, and generally be a bit of a git about it. But, being the softhearted, kind true friend that I am, I chose not to.

The point I am getting to is that you have heard of 'My Right Honorable Friends' issues from him. I played no part in his public 'de-bagging' at all. He has, however, chosen to blame me.

And it is from this, that I have to defend myself.

So from the top.......

I like cucumbers. They have a raw deal. Associated with salads, to which nobody will admit to eating, and being green, means they are a hard sell. It's true, most of us buy them, but do we stop and ask ourselves why? And correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't they the only veg, or fruit, or whatever they come under, that you can by half of? You don't see many halves of tomatoes, or apples being offered in the shops.

Anyway, I digress. The reason 'My Right Honorable Friend' thinks cucumbers are evil, is because of what he does with them. And probably, the same reason why you can buy them in halves.

What! You want me to draw you a diagram? Think about it. Anyone who sits so bolt upright for THAT amount of time can't be holding a fart in for that long. And the constant look of surprise on his face is a dead giveaway.

Right, on to the real issue. The running. He IS a better runner than me. Or WAS. He has been doing it for longer, he is fitter, faster, and younger than me. I am happy to admit this because of late, the wheels have well and truly fallen off as far as his running goes. And it adds real depth to the statement that, as it stands right now, he is not as good as me. And I am NOT good. Not even a little bit.

I know, that in the not too distant future, I am am truly going to regret this blog. A lot. So I will enjoy my brief moment whilst I can.

So, in the order that 'My Right Honorable Friend' wrote about them, the reasons for the poor performances.

The slowest ever. His excuse:- 'It was more cross country'. A couple of stones and a bit of mud hardly constitutes cross country. He did however, beat me on this one. I, in turn, set my best 10k time.

The one he ended up in an ambulance in. Reason:- It was a ruse. He realised he was on for a slow one, so he pretended to faint. As he was being loaded into the back of the ambulance, and driven off, he was clearly heard to cry out 'The finish line's the other way, moron'.

Did I show him the finishing medal for that one, by the way?

The one he suffered 'horrendously' in. We know. The whole effing field knew. But, injuries can happen to anyone. Particularly when the are the subject of some good old fashion voodoo.

And the half marathon. My first, I hasten to add. It should have been David and Goliath.

Not 'The Tortoise and the Hare'.

The only good thing to come out of this race for 'My Right Honorable Friend', is the fact that they read his name out as he crossed the finish line!

I can't comment on the race he did well in. Why? BECAUSE I WASN'T THERE! But if you want my opinion, I think he got his 3 year old to run it.

And then, 'My Right Honorable Friend' goes on about the Superman/Kryptonite comment I made. I was trying to make him feel better for goodness sake. Far be it from me to start teasing when we are 12 miles from home, and  in HIS car. He says he'd rather be Batman. I'm thinking more Wonderwoman. Breasts on ANY man that size without surgery is just damn freaky. And strangely, a bit of a turn on.

The small cock thing. Moving on............................................

The whole point he comes to, is that I am his evil nemesis. The epitome of evil. Well, it may suprise you to know, that I have my own opinion.

Impotence comes in many forms. Of course, there's the obvious one. Where the blood doesn't get to the bits it should. And instead of the cries of 'OOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHHH', your just left with 'OH'.

Then there's the one suffered in the public loo. You go in to an empty public convenience. 2 urinals, about 3 inches apart. So you start to go. In walks someone else, stands right next to you, and everything just grinds to a halt. The tank is full, the floodgates are open, but there's a sodding great fish blocking the tubes.

It seems 'My Right Honorable Friend' is suffering from a form of impotence. When he is training, all is well. But when the pressure is on to perform, Mr Floppy refuses to co-operate.

So, what about his ways to be rid of me?

Drive me out of town? Note he didn't say run. Enough said.

Trip me up in our next race? He hasn't really thought this through. He'll either be ahead of me, or behind me. True, if he decides to take another nap during the race, then there is an outside chance I will trip as I try to step over him. I will be on my guard.

Adopt me as a child? He has beautiful kids. I would be waaaaayyyyy out of my league. Besides, he has enough nappies to change.

I didn't forget the kneecapping thing. I saved it until last deliberately. I confess. I have a thing for hammers. Claw hammers to be precise. You see, I swallowed a nail when I was younger. And despite time, gravity, and a WHOLE lotta prunes, it's still in there. I can just get to it with the claw hammer.

The cucumber simply wasn't quite up to the job.

P.T.F.O.