I've started a diet in earnest.
When you can hide two Tim Tams between your belly rolls, it's time to acknowledge that you indeed have a weight problem. With this in mind, I started on that Tony Ferguson weight loss program and it works for me... until I hear that bell, that is.
I'm doing okay, most of my cravings have disappeared and I've dropped a few kilos over the last couple of weeks. I'm making myself exercise - I've bought one of those Pilates Chairs, but that's another story altogether - and have discovered that I don't need to eat 'bad stuff' to feel happy... until I hear the bell, that is.
Think of it like Pavlov's Dog: The dog is fine until the bell rings.
It is this conditioning that causes my dilemma... with the bell ringer in question being the Home Icecream man in his 'Happy Van of Evilness'. This nasty little man is like your local drug dealer... skulking along loaded with his wares, pouncing on unsuspecting, good folk going about their business.
I mean, seriously... how unfair is it to turn up JUST BEFORE DINNER during school holidays when the streets are covered in kids, whose mothers have been spending the last hour trying to get them inside to eat their dinner? C'mon... this guy just ain't playing fair!
When you are dieting, that bell could be two tones short of a cat's howl... but it still sounds like a symphony - a symphony of chocolately bits and crunchy cones, filled to the brim with creamy delights and...
But I have come up with a solution!
Next time the nasty little man in the 'Happy Van of Evilness' comes calling, I am going to beat him at his evil game... I'm going to load up with Sugar Free, Low Fat Icecream beforehand... shovel myself full of the stuff... overload myself...
... then I won't be able to get to his van...
...the stuff is so full of Malitol, I will be stuck on the toilet for days. From past experience, when they say 'excessive consumption may have a laxative effect' believe it...
... oh dear God... believe it...
No comments:
Post a Comment