Diet starts Monday | Scouse Bird Blogs

Here we are again. It’s Monday morning. Fellas everywhere are lamenting the start of the working week, they think they have problems? Us girls are lamenting the start of our diets after no doubt falling spectacularly off the wagon over the weekend, or rather falling out of Mr Chips with a pizza in one hand and fried chicken in the other. We know full well we’ll probably only last until Monday lunchtime, maybe Tuesday night if we’re feeling particularly wilful, but either way we will start in earnest chasing the perfect bikini body as soon as we’ve waved goodbye to the weekend.

I’ve been on more diets than you can shake a stick at. In fact I’d go as far as to say that I’ve been on a diet since the age of 12, that’s most of my life. I’ve done Atkins, The South Beach Diet, Anorexia (lasted an hour), bulimia (well I gave it a go but the only vomming I like to do is after a shot of sambuca), Alli, diet pills, Slimming World, Weight Watchers. I consider myself an expert. Those who can’t do, teach eh?

One time when I was giving slimming world a bash, I woke up Sunday morning after a heavy night on the vodka diet cokes, passed out on the couch (hadn’t made it up the stairs) and I found SW home-made chocolate mousse spread out all over the floor. What the…? Ah well, I thought, at least I didn’t get a pizza. That’s a first! I lay there on the couch dying and watching the Hollyoaks omnibus, made up with myself and feeling pretty smug at how boss I was at dieting. Then I noticed the teeniest tiniest sliver of tomato sauce sittin off under my fingernail, winking at me. Er, what are you? How did you get there? I rang my mate, “Hiya, did I have pizza last night?”

“Are you messin?”

“Er no, I woke up with chocolate mousse all over the floor. I don’t remember having pizza.”

“Girl, you had a pizza, 2 pieces of fried chicken while you were waiting for the pizza and you had your stopwatch on your phone out givin the pizza man a countdown cos you wanted your pizza RAAAR NOW.”

“Oh FFS!”

Spectacular fail.

Then there was the time when my thirst for pizza nearly burnt the house down. You may or may not remember earlier on in the year when a certain scouse messiah had his birthday party in bar red. Yeh I got home from that night, whacked a pizza in the oven, fell asleep on the couch and woke up to this. A cookie size piece of charcoal – it was 12” when it went in. The place stunk for weeks. On the bright side, at least I didn’t get to eat it.

With regards to diet pills there’s only 2 ways they can go. You can either be bouncing round like you’ve had a spoonful of speed for breakfast and have the constant worry that you may in fact be having a heart attack in your twenties…or there’s Alli. That’s a class all of its own. It works by stopping your body from absorbing any fat in your food. Where does this fat then go? They don’t tell you this. They leave you to find out for yourself. I remember the day after I started taking it I went the toilet for a wee, did a sly lady like trump and BANG toilet full of red oil! I did not know what was happening. I would’ve shit myself had I not been terrified of the consequences. Oh the glamorous side of dieting eh? Sorry. Too much info – but people need to be warned!!! We’ve all got our dieting horror stories to tell.

The only thing so far that’s worked is getting regular exercise. Sorry I know I’m telling you what deep down you already know but there’s no magic cure to our terminal heffa-dom. We are greedy bitches and the only way to combat is to sweat it out. May I recommend Zumba.

Good luck girls and remember your diet mantras!

Sexy for Mexi

No pizza before Ibiza

No carbs before marbs

Like a rake for Sharm el Sheik

Skinny for Domminy

No ham before the dam

Lots of poo-ey before Koh Samui

No grease before Greece

Etc etc

Inabit

XOXO

PS Startin Weight Watchers today

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