Chunky, yet hunky!

I am hugely, vastly, monstrously, obesely, humongously overweight! My arse is becoming increasingly more magnificent by the month, and I reluctantly have to admit that my paunch has 'death in service' written all over it (metaphorically, not in the form of a tattoo; that would be odd. I seriously need to do something about this, and the time I need to do something about it is now. I can no longer keep saying Future OfClayton should go on a diet, the fat git! Past OfClayton spent too many years eating, drinking and making merry, and now is the time to pay the piper.

Of course, I've been on diets before. But like most folk with a bit of excess flab, it was a short term thing, and the man boobs soon returned. In fact, I spent most of 2011 on a diet (very difficult considering the number of nights spent in hotels). At least I told Mrs OfClayton I was on a diet. The jury's still out on whether I told myself as well. One way or the other, my weight at the start of 2011 pretty much matched my weight at the start of 2012 . . . so no matter who told who what, I wasn't on a diet!

Now, however, I really feel I'm in the right place (mentally speaking) to go for it during 2012, and become the man I once was . . . and stand a chance of enjoying retirement. I know that retirement age is being pushed further and further into the future, and if you hear me use the word 'pension' , I would probably be referring to a French B&B, rather than any money I may have when I'm old. It'd be nice to have no-one to boss me around (apart from Mrs OfClayton) for a few years, though. Wish me luck! I'll report back as I progress towards the body beautiful.

Dragging on

I went to see The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo at the pictures last night. Oooh, it's a good film! I'd never read the book, and didn't really know anything about the plot in advance. I went along with a friend I've known from school age and, though we usually enjoy the same films, he hated it.

It is a dark, edgy film. Quite grim. Bleak scenery. Clipped dialogue. Some moderately disturbing scenes. Gripping drama. However, you really have to keep your mind on what's going on, who's related to who, etc., etc. It's a sort of murder mystery, and you have to be on your metal to work out why the detective (actually a journalist) finds stuff out. You can't miss a second (out of the whole three hours) of it. And that's why I think my friend didn't like it, and I did. You see, he has a problem with his waterworks. He won't admit it, but he has. Every time I've been to a play/film/gig with him in the pat year, he's had to go to the loo at least once during the performance. Let's face it, we're in our late 40s, and we're going to start hearing the word 'prostate' used more and more often. I can only conclude his ostrich-like denial is due to a fear of a doctor shoving a finger up his bum. I share that fear (especially after witnessing one of the scenes in The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo), but I'm determined that, should my waterworks start to play up, I won't hesitate. I'll grit my teeth and make no fuss whatsoever as the doctor pops on his marigolds and uses me as his own personal Sooty. Worryingly, when I was young, the term 'all-nighter' meant staying up all night drinking. Now it means going a full night without getting up to use the loo. Hmmm. . . .