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I’m Glad I’m Me

I’m working very hard at the moment and thought I would ‘relax’ this evening by watching quite possibly the most dreadful ‘car crash telly’ I’ve seen since my Anna Nicole Show watching days. It was a terrible dilemma – my choice was Horizon – a quest for the ultimate cosmetic creams that actually work, Half A Ton Hospital – incredibly obese people at a fatally flawed nursing home in the US, or reliable stand-by at times like this – CSI. I probably should have stuck with CSI but instead I went for Half A Ton Hospital. All of the massively obese and very ill people’s stories were terrible and heart-rending. It took the death of a 29 year old patient and friend of 24 year old 27 stone Sequoia to do something about herself. It took a stomach staple operation for Tammy also 29 who had been raped 10 years ago and turned to comfort eating since to ‘cheat’ and keep ordering potentially fatal post-op take-out to the nursing home where she was convalescing. This really jarred for me – where’s the logic? A nursing home for morbidly clinically obese people that allows them to order gianormous artery-blocking take-outs (Tammy’s favourite being only meat, cheese and marinara sauce pizza – no vegetables please and a tub of icecream to finish off). It appears there was indeed a double logic here – ultimately the doctor who ran the hospital was running a business – one he nearly lost when they all waddled out in droves after he imposed a strict diet regime banning all junk food full stop. Rather depressingly the success rate is only 2% for obese people who lose a substantial amount of weight and manage to keep it off – that’s a shocking percentage. Heroin and alcohol addicts have a higher rate than that. My point is that the doctor who ran the nursing home was actually promoting eating not helping people get better for themselves. As if that wasn’t harrowing enough – I then segue’d nicely into Marbella Wives – er – more like Marbella Munters if you ask me. Absolutely revolting. Ugly old cow’s with disappointed gash-like mouths and much too much more money than sense. The worst culprit being Lisa who had a son who’s nappy she had only changed once – he is nearly three and is called Blue. She didn’t like it as the time she did change his nappy she ‘got shit in her new nails’. Nice. The film ended with her interviewing some poor long-suffering Filipino slave ( I mean ‘helper’) who she told most strongly that Blue (or Blaauuuw as she pronounce it) must not be allowed to hear her voice in the morning and must be kept away from the kitchen as she likes to sit and have her coffee’n’fag in the peace and quiet of a morning. She was awful.

So – I’m glad I’m me despite the fact I’m worried about the potential of developing Bloggers Midriff Syndrome due to spending an increasing amount of time on the internet. Or perhaps Bloggers Anonymous beckons? Yes that’s it – perhaps I should start up the first support group for Bloggers that just can’t leave it alone?! Here’s a picture my 5 year old did on the computer. I am so proud.

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And lastly, I purchased a pair of purple spandex lycra leggings from ebay today. It’s ok – I haven’t lost my mind. I’m going to a ’70’s’ party on Friday. I bought a Cher wig too. I laughed when I opened up this picture described as ‘Size 10 Sandy from Grease-style lycra leggings’.

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More like Bandy the Boiler from Birmingham! Er…not quite a size 10 I fear? Oh I’m so glad I’m me. Well I am today anyway.

UPDATE: Is it bad for me to want these original Terry De Havilland ‘Wonder Woman’ shoes?

I really think I must – I love them. Shoes and books are my weakness.

Yours Ro-Mo-Fo xxx

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