Oh, I'm having a real huge fucking crisis. This is an emergency.
Actually, it's not. It's patheticness on a gargantuan scale but maybe you can understand.
So I fly out to Cape Town in February and I am going to be there for Cape Town Pride.
Now Cape Town Pride is like any Pride.
It's basically a chance for a whole bunch of gays to get together, wear as little as possible and flounce around in front of each other while using it all as an excuse to take drugs during the day.
This will be the first Cape Town Pride I am going to in. my. life. So you wanna be / look / feel good, yeah?
I have been surfing the official website to see what level of talent there is and I have to say that this is about the limit.
I have whited-out the faces - it just feels the right thing to do?!
So this is what I'm up against...
And do you know what? I know I already look better than the four guys in the green hotpants.
It will probably be the only time I ever attend Cape Town Pride so I want to look the best I can.
However.
I walk through the double doors of the gym, like I did this evening, and the motivation just drains from every pour of my body.
I have no idea what the fuck it is... and it's really terrible.
Sitting down at a machine I yawn, look around and just feel this overwhelming sense of apathy.
I left work today and am not back until the second week of January.
Somehow I have to find the energy and the motivation to hit the gym hard for the next ten days. I have to find the motivation from somewhere.
I have 6 fucken weeks. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!
This is hopefully going to be one of the best holidays I have had in ages so I really wanna look good.
For the three weeks I am there I am pretty sure I'm going to be spending most days on the beach. Clifton 3rd beach more specifically.
When they do surveys of the best beaches in the world, Clifton is usually featured.
I am going to be spending three weeks on a beach amongst this...
Thinking about this / looking at this picture really stresses me out.
Sometimes I really do envy straight people - straight girls excuse so much!
Sometimes I wish I could just turn off the Body Nazi switch.
Sometimes I really do wish I could just be happy to look like these two in a Speedo...
Ah, whatever.
We'll find the inspiration somewhere and try our best. Too much of this self-loathing can get so tedious.
Besides, I can't think about this any more because it's making me panic.
Friday, 28 December 2007
Panic stations
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
6 comments:
i'd recommend a low carb/crystal diet for a week or two before heading for pride. but that's against doctor's orders.
Gabriel: What do you mean? Like cut out carbs and just smoke crystal meth all day?
Aw! Gabriel - that's like the old-fashioned way of losing weight by taking laxatives and smoking.
I never thought of that. That's like the best suggestion so far! You're going to make a good dad you are...
How about surgery? If you jump on it now then the scars might have disappeared and hey it might be on sale!
Oliver: You know you're right too. I have been down to Harley Street and checked out what's on offer and there's nothing on sale. Although I do need things done that I don't know if plastic surgery could fix.
Speaking of which though - I could do with some chiselled cheekbones.
But then what about the scars behind the ears??
There's always a danger you'll end up looking like The Joker.
No one will ever be looking behind your ears.
You can get six pack abs put in I've heard too at the surgeons office.
Carl
Carl: Yeah - I know. It's called abdominal etching and apparently everyone is doing it. I think I am going to have to investigate this.
Though I am slightly sceptical that you can do 100 sit-ups a day for a year and get okay-wish abs but 24 hours under the surgeons knife and hey presto! Hmm...
Post a Comment