Monday, 19 October 2009

Instant Korma's Going to Get You


Hello again, fair readers.  After a regretable week's absence from the blog, I join you once more with a shiny, new Packard Bell and a renewed sense of computing reliability.  Our new PC is black, which is appropriate considering we mourn our old Compaq.  We have held the funeral, but have yet to dispose of the body.  This whole situation has the trappings of Jacko's demise.  We're not sure when the results of the post-mortem will be released.  We remember the Compaq with both nostalgia for its brilliant moments (creating UK-sized passport photos out of our own flattering pictures) and bewilderment with its strange behavior in its last days.  All it wanted to do was sleep.  I don't believe any charges will be pressed against its incompetent medical staff, however.

As promised, I thought I would give my impressions of recently joined English Weight Watchers.  I have no experience with American Weight Watchers, but of another "fat club" instead, so perhaps there are culturally significant differences to discuss.

My meeting is held in an old stately manor house converted to a Best Western Hotel.  I had to mind my head on an original stone, gothic arch as I trekked to the meeting room.  They had less to eat in those days, so perhaps the atmosphere is supportive from a historical point of view.  I doubt there was a concept such as "low-fat" in the 17th century.  Maybe they got activity points from lively games of croquet on the grounds, which are a sprawling 20 acres.


My entire reason for joining is to pound the brakes on steady weight gain accelleration (as aggravated by the foods discussed in prior postings).  I haven't mentioned my unsettling hobby of finding very tasty ready meals (mostly Indian) in the marked-down bins at Tesco and hording them in the freezer for future Chumley-friendly dinners.  Indeed, instant korma has gotten me up a few pounds.  Enter gothic dieting.

My first meeting was a good experience, especially after I pinpointed the source a soft but steady crunching noise.  I had heard the place had a ghost or two, but the meeting was not advertised as "scare your way thin."  Everyone in the meeting was crunching bags of crisps and chips after they had weighed in.  Our astute leader was selling them at a little kiosk in the back of the room, which could be viewed both as entrapment for the perennially hungry and a brilliant stroke of business acumen.  I did wonder if this activity was a bit counterproductive.  They were eating with gusto.

I am happy to report success so far, despite snarfing an entire box of diet chocolate covered toffee bars procured from the "crack shack" at last week's meeting.  The entire box was 7 1/2 points, and I was trying to blend with the natives by partaking of their weight loss rituals.  I have valid sociological reasons for such snarfing.

Post script confidential to J and ST:  I lost 5 pounds despite eating the entire bag of Cheetos you sent.  They were my lunch one day, and I have never been so happy to be covered in fake neon cheese powder.  Wotsits here just aren't the same.  I am forever in your debt.

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