w.atching the w.orld unw.ind

Today's lyric:
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"She looked like she learned to dance from a series of still pictures
She's madly excited now, she throws her hands up like a tulip
She looks like an illustration of a cocktail party
Where cartoon bubbles burst in the air, champagne rolls off her tongue
Like a second language."

Elvis Costello (feat. Chryssie Hynde): "Satellite"
From the album: "Spike"

In the absence of the long-awaited wrecking trip, and feeling thoroughly brassed off by the day-thwarting weather, I shelled out on a new camerage as a 'reward' for the good Mrs.D. (who ended up losing over 3st on her horrendously harsh diet) and it is expected imminently.

With luck, better weather and a favourable wind, there may well be clickage this weekend?

So enjoy yours, y'all..

Labels: Clickage, Diet

Today's lyric:
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"Feeling so tired, can't understand it
Just had a fortnight's sleep
I'm feeling so tired, I'm so distracted
Ain't touched a thing all week

I'm feeling drunk, juiced up, excited
Ain't touched a drink all night
I'm feeling hungry, can't see the reason
Just ate a horse meat pie

Yeah when you call my name
I salivate like a Pavlov dog
Yeah when you lay me out
My heart is beating louder than a big bass drum, alright."

The Rolling Stones: "Bitch"
From the album: "Sticky fingers"

In my still non-alcohol-fuelled dream (the diet-sponsoring GP has persuaded Mrs.D. to 'go for the burn' in order to come off all lifetime-projected, blood pressure-reducing medication, so still no wine for another 3 weeks or so!) I went to a 'place of torture' with several strangers and then spent an hour lying on a bed, equally miffed about not joining in and equally pleased not to be wasting my energies on unrewarding exercise.

At the end of the hour, I went for a beer and by the time I'd finished it, they were ready for their next session.

While I, of course, needed to rest.

"But your dog desperately needs a walk" they chorused, poiting en masse to a supine mini-Dobermann lying on a pillow under a duvet.

"Yeah, right it does" I gave back.

Wtf are all these nightmares coming from?

Maybe it's not the lack of stimulant that's giving me such vivid (and, for me, unusually memorable) dreams?

Perhaps it's the new diet? (Just joshing, Witchy, if you're still out there?)

Labels: Diet, Dreamery

Today's lyric:
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"Was it love, or was it the idea of being in love?
Or was it the hand of fate, that seemed to fit just like a glove?
The moment slipped by and soon the seeds were sown
The year grew late and neither one wanted to remain alone."

Pink Floyd: "A new machine (Part II)"
From the album: "A momentary lapse of reason"

or has Blogland ground to a shuddering halt?

News Dietary:

Mrs.D. has now officially lost 40lbs. She may start to ease back?

Labels: Bereftness, Diet, Health

Today's lyric:
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"One night I was dancin' with a lady in black
Wearin' black silk gloves and a black silk hat
She looked at me longin' with black velvet eyes
She gazed at me strange all cunning and wise
Then I saw the flesh just fall off her bones*
The eyes in her skull was burning like coals
Lord, have mercy, fire and brimstone
I was dancin' with Mrs. D."

The Rolling Stones: ""
From the album: "Goat's Head Soup"

* 26 days of her diet (and my abstinence) left...

Labels: Diet, Music

Today's lyric:
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"I bet your Mama was a tent-show queen
And all her boyfriends were sweet sixteen?
I'm no schoolboy but I know what I like -
You should'a heard 'em just around midnight."

Rolling Stones: "Brown Sugar"
From the album: "Sticky Fingers"

A BT-employed friend of ours was enjoying his conjugals of a Sunday morning, when the bedside phone (one of hundreds in the house - it was like being in a clock shop at midday) rang. And rang. And rang.

Eventually, he could stand it no longer.

"Hello son, you took a long time answering?"

"I was down the garden, Dad" he panted in reply.

"You sound out of breath. Did you have to run back in?"

"Look, Dad, I'm in the middle of something* right now. Can it wait?"

"Sure. I just wanted to tell you about..."

Click.

* He's divorced now. There was reference to her being called a 'something' in the grounds...

Not that Mrs.D's into boxing, but she's off to her weekly weigh-in tonight. At the last count, she was -30lbs/60 days. Half a pound of butter every day on average for two months.

Strangely, the weight seems to be being shed from all round, not just in the tummy region. She reckons she's lost 7" in the ladybumps area? Imagine the equivalent, lads, in the trouser-snake department? Blimey, I'd be almost minusly-endowed!

As a divertissement (et je ne sais pourquoi) I've been creating some new French words.

(Note to self: Must get out more!)

So far I've come up with 'Departyr' meaning to abandon a rave, and 'Devanner' meaning to leave a convoy of mobile homes.

Aidez-moi!

Oh. And HAPPY ST GEORGE'S DAY!

Labels: Anecdotes, Diet, Verbiage

Today's lyric:
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"Now I've made up my mind - I've made my mistake
And I know that she cries for you, when she's barely awake
Well she's going to bend your mind - well I hope it don't break
Now it's my turn to talk and your turn to think
Your turn to buy and my turn to drink
Your turn to cry and my turn to sink down in the Blue Chair
Down in the Blue Chair."

Elvis Costello: "Blue Chair"
From the album: "Blood and Chocolate"

Spotted on a fellow commuter's freebie paper - an ad for "The Dyke Golf Club".

And I thought, No! - they surely couldn't restrict...

Then I saw it was based at The Devil's Dyke, Brighton.

Phew.

I realised this morning that I never did explain the secrecy behind an earlier post.

Mrs.D. is on a GP-approved diet which involves no solid food (or alcohol) for 100 days and only 500 calories per day, via liquid, vitamin-supplemented drinks. And by the end of her sixth week, she'd lost 24lbs. She just wanted to get used to the regime, before 'going public'.

But like a fool, I volunteered to not drink while there was just the two of us at home, a proposition only to be broken if we had guests or were going out. All too rare an event, as it turns out. Hmmm.

The 13.76 in the post title refers to my weight at the start of this vigil, and six weeks on, I'm now 13.44. So 42 days virtually without any wine or beer and not significantly lighter than normal weight fluctuation would generally give rise to?

Only 58 days to go...

Labels: Diet