Noon. Am never going to gym again. Am never going to lose the weight, never and don’t bloody well care. Was consumed with rage whilst lying on front with bum in air failing to lift weight bar with ankles. Looked round to see everyone contorted ludicrously in machines like Hieronymous Bosch painting.
Why are bodies so difficult to manage? Why? ‘Oh, oh, look at me, I’m a body, I’m going to splurge fat unless you, like, STARVE yourself and go to undignified TORTURE CENTRES and don’t eat anything nice or get drunk.’ Hate diet. Is all fault of SOCIETY. Am just going to be old and fat and eat whatever I like and NEVER HAVE SEX AGAIN and WHEEL MY FAT AROUND ON A TROLLEY.
Sunday 5 August 2012
Weight (unknown, daren’t look).
11 p.m. Have today consumed the following things.
*2 ‘Healthy Start’ (i.e. 482 calories each) muffins
*Full English breakfast with sausages, scrambled egg, bacon, tomatoes and fried bread
*Pizza Express pizza
*Banana split
*2 packets of Rolos
*Half a Marks & Spencer chocolate cheesecake (actually, if am honest, whole of a Marks & Spencer cheesecake)
*2 glasses Chardonnay
*2 packets cheese and onion crisps
*1 bag grated cheese
*1 12-inch jelly ‘snake’ purchased at the Odeon cinema
*1 bag popcorn (large)
*1 hot dog (large)
*Remains of 2 hot dogs (large)
HARHARBLOODY HAR. Put that in your pipe and smoke it, society!
Thursday 9 August 2012
152lb, weight gained since last week: 10lbs (though maybe chocolate cheesecake is still intact in stomach?)
2 p.m. Could hardly bring self to go to Obesity Clinic as was so ashamed.
Nurse took one look at scales, marched me into the doctor, and then made me go into the Group Therapy room, where everyone else talked about their ‘eating relapses’. Actually it was great. Mine was definitely the best and everyone seemed deeply impressed.
9.15 p.m. In spite of – or perhaps proving – nurse’s lecture (‘it takes three days to create a habit and three weeks to break it’), just want to eat cake and cheese again, and go back next week and impress everyone even more.
9.30 p.m. Just called Tom, grated cheese falling out of my mouth, and explained the whole thing.
‘Nooo! Don’t start trying to out-relapse obese people!’ he said. ‘What about Twitter? Have you followed your followers? Follow Talitha.’
9.45 p.m. Tom just tweeted me Talitha’s Twitter address.
9.50 p.m. @Talithaluckybitch has 146,000 followers. Hate Talitha. Hate Twitter. Feel like eating cheese again, or Talitha.
9.52 p.m. Just tweeted Tom: <@JoneseyBJ @TomKat37 Talitha has 146,000 followers.>
<@TomKat37 @JoneseyBJ Don’t worry dear, they’re mostly people she’s slept with or been married to.>
10.00 p.m. Talitha tweeted back.
<@Talithaluckybitch @TomKat37 @JoneseyBJ Darling it’s really TERRIBLY vulgar to display the green-eyed monster on Twitter.>
Friday 10 August 2012
Twitter followers 75, then 102, then 57, then probably none, by now.
7.15 a.m. 75 followers have mysteriously, silently appeared overnight.
9.15 p.m. 102 now. Feel overwhelmed by responsibility: like am leader of a cult and they will all jump into a lake or something if I tell them to. Maybe will have glass of wine.
9.30 pm. Must clearly show leadership and address followers.
<@JoneseyBJ Welcome followers. I am thy leader. Ye art most welcome to my cult.>
<@JoneseyBJ But please do not do anything weird like jump into a lake, even if I suggest it, as may be drunk.>
9.45 p.m <@JoneseyBJ Gaah! 41 one of ye followers have drained away as suddenly as ye first appeared.>
<@JoneseyBJ Comest thou back!>
Thursday 16 August 2012
137lb, pages of screenplay written 45, Twitter followers 97.