Fat buggers unite. You have nothing but your bellies…

Well that fat pot belly I gained over the feastive period is on it’s way out! I decree.

Today I picked up an exercise bike! No, really. I used to go to the gym, but it was such an arse to drive there, work out, shower, drive back… I just quit. So now, as I consider the prospect of a mid-farties heart attack, I’m getting back into shape. The best resolutions are those that cost money, so a couple of hundred quid for the bike is a good resolution hardener. Tonight, I weighed 81kg in my socks, with a resting pulse of 70 bpm. I want to improve greatly on that before the days get light enough to go out and exercise properly in the countryside again.

Oh, that New Year champagne… As midnight approached, miss said ‘Ill get the champagne, daddie.’ Pulling the cork and pouring, I failed utterly to notice the temperature of the bottle. miss didn’t know champagne was supposed to be drunk chilled, and she’d just got another bottle off the rack! Bye bye one rather fine bottle of warm bubbly. I suppose one can only be glad that an eleven year old can still be so uneducated about alcohol…

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