Curdy Milky Bits

Being an avid... uh, let me rephrase that... vaguely enthusiastic participant in various weightloss programs, I've become a bit of an armchair expert on them. This brings me to my latest disappointment.

I've been on the Tony Ferguson weightloss program for around 4 months now and have quite happily lost 11 kilos. However, out of curiousity - and the convenience of being able to get supplies at a supermarket 24/7, I decided to give The Biggest Loser a go. I grabbed a pack of soups (just over twenty bucks) and a few chocolate shakes (nearly four bucks each) and gave it a whirl.

My first mistake was to take them to work with me meaning that, due to the fact I am literally in lockdown for eight hours, they were my only source of food for eight, long hours.

Now, with the Tony Ferguson shakes, I can add a spoonful of coffee, boiling water, stir and end up with a creamy, yummy vanilla latte or mocha coffee. Figuring the Biggest Loser shakes were basically the same, I tried making a mocha coffee with a chocolate one. YUK!

What's a nice way to say 'consistancy of ground rat droppings'? It was watery, and developed a crust on the top which, when stirred in, gave the impression that fibre glass had been finely ground up and blended in. I tentatively took a mouthful and gagged. I let it sit for a while hoping that it would all 'blend in' but it simply turned into a fibrous mess... it was like drinking something that had curdled.

So, this experiment was stamped 'DUD' and filed in the big white filing cabinet with the flip-top lid, in the kitchen.

Round two was a stab at the Roast Chicken and Vegetable soup - which I was hoping would be successful as by this time I was starving.

With the Tony Ferguson soups, my favourite thing to do is grab a single-serve bag of steamer veges, steam them, sprinkle an Asian Curry or Creamed Chicken Soup over the top and add boiling water. Stir it up and you have either a two-minute laksa or a chicken/vege stew of sorts. I figured it would be the same with The Biggest Loser soup...

I steamed up the veges and sprinkled on the soup. Upon closer inspection, it looked as if the soup was comprised of powdered glass! There were tiny little crystals of an unknown substance throughout the mix... weird. Throwing caution to the wind, I added boiling water and stirred... and the whole thing separated and congealed. It looked like a thin, curdled custard gone horribly wrong.

It was watery with little lumpy, milky-bits suspended in it. However, being as hungry as I was, I gave it a burl. It tasted like it looked... curdled and with a grainy texture. Little lumpy white fibres clung to the veges... so I filed it in the same cabinet the shake went into...

... and scammed half of my colleagues pizza.

In short, fantastic television concept... but it's no wonder they all lost so much weight... they starved.

Busted...

We all do things automatically... stuff you do every day without even thinking about it.

If it's something 'anti-social' - like scratching, picking your nose or adjusting yourself - you take a quick look around to make sure nobody is watching before proceeding. However... why do we throw caution out the window (literally) when we are in our cars?

On my trips home from work each morning, I'm amazed at the amount of people I see scratching, picking and preening, totally forgetting they are out in public. They wouldn't do it standing on the footpath or even in the middle of the road, yet they will do it in their car.

I found out just how public doing stuff in the 'privacy' of your own car can be this morning... and I will NEVER do it again!

Sitting in the traffic at a set of lights, I was waiting to turn right. The traffic was banked up both ways as either heading north or south will still get you onto a freeway heading into the city.

I was contemplating just how much the hot cross buns I had eaten earlier were bloating my stomach, when the need to 'pass wind' came on. Without a second thought - and as I had done on numerous occassions due to being the only person in the car - I decided I'd simply let one rip.

I lifted myself off the seat slightly, twisted a little for maximum effect and gave the appropriate facial expressions of a job well done. Excellent... I felt instantly better and relax back into the seat.

The 'bip bip bip bip bip' of a horn beside me from the traffic banked up in the opposite direction brought me back to reality...

I looked over and there are two council workers in a white Hi-Ace truck, hanging out the window laughing and applauding...

... oh... dear... god...

Realising that my fart had not gone unnoticed, I did the only thing I could... I rested my head on the steering wheel and pulled my hair around my face. I was mortified! I hoped that the traffic would simply move on, but no, it sat still for a few minutes more allowing my tormentors the thrill of watching me slide as deep into my sheep skin seatcovers as I could - all the while yelling, honking and giving me the big 'thumbs up'.

I started laughing and, figuring I might as well try and save the last shred of dignity I had left, I turned to face them and gave them the sweetest smile I could muster. The driver just grinned and gave me an 'okay' sign... then they drove off.

Slinking home, I told my other half what had happened and he just burst out laughing... I will never live this one down it seems.

Delinquent Pigeons

I was out the back yard this afternoon putting some stuff in the bins and have been bailed up by a pigeon. And not just any pidgeon, it was the Punk Pigeon of Death.

As well know... pigeons are known for being placid little guys who only really care about scamming free meals, crapping on anything of value and having bird-sex in the background of your carefully composed wedding photos. They scoot off when you approach and the most agressive thing they do is coo pigeon-abuse at you from a great distance.

But not this little guy... he was on a mission. Whilst the reasons for his full-scale attack on me will never be known, it has now made me wary of these deceptively passive guys. It's like being bailed up by a pensioner... with a pointy stick.

I was simply dumping stuff in the bin, when I became aware of a foofing noise and movement next to me. Looking down, I saw a pidgeon fluffed out to the max strutting back and forth, jumping at me and 'foofing' every now and then. I actually laughed at it and turned away to continue with my task - which must have annoyed it, as it took it's display one step further... it pecked my bloody ankle!

Spinning around I did what any normal person would do under attack - I kicked at it... further enraging it. It jumped up and made a swipe at my knee... then returned to foofing and strutting around my feet... WTF??!!... it's a pigeon for christ sake!!

I pretty pissed by now and picking up a plastic bottle, hurled it full-tilt at the little bastard. The bottle went right, he dodged left... which left my ankles open for attack again. Bugger this, I figured, you want war you little bastard... you'll get it!

I jumped at him with my right foot swinging and managed to connect this time. I punted him fair across yard, causing him to bounce off the fence. But did this stop him? Nooooooooo! He righted himself and got airborn, then literally divebombed me. WTF?? This - again - is a bloody pigeon!!!!

It landed back on the roof of my car and strutted back and forth, foofing and jumping... then flew off. So, here I am with a bloodied ankle standing under the carport wondering what the hell had just happened.

So.. be careful of those cute little pigeons with the punk-spikey-hairdo... the little bastards are planning global domination... one peck at a time.