The first little step in getting fit is to give up smoking..
Well stop at least, that’s all I can say at the moment. I’ve stopped many times but I can never say I’ve quit… as I’ve started again.
I’m at work it’s 8:38 in the evening and I’m going down to our palatial smoking area and I’m having the last two fags in my packet and that’s it.
I’ll stop.
I am an unknown artist, a paddling oceanographer, and a merciless romantic. Fans globally faint away over my innovative range of waistcoats, slippers and dressing gowns. I don't sweat. I have won second prize in a Blue Peter competition, play noisy pool yet I am reserved in defeat. Children and animals trust me.
I can catch two flies at once with unfailing accuracy. I can erect Ikea furniture in a day and still have time to repaint the entire hall in the evening. I know the precise position of every grocery item in Tesco. My dancing belies belief and explanation; I have perfect feet but rather disappointing ears. The laws of physics do not apply to me.
I jump, I skip, I weave, I frolic, and my bills are never paid on time. I have given confessional to bikers but am recognised as the devil by Mormons. I have many names.
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