Lardathon Day #12

I break every Lardathon rule there is to break on Day 12. Every rule that is, except the lard based confessions bit. But I have a lot to confess. I spend too long in the morning getting ready and therefore don’t make the early train which gives me enough time to walk from Liverpool Street and have to get the tube but when I get to the platform the platform is chokka and the board says the next train’s in two minutes and I think I won’t be able to get on the next one as there’s too many people but the board says the one after that is 13 minutes and I think fuck that I’ll have to walk but I’ll be late and it’s raining and I’m going out tonight and my hair will get messed up but I walk anyway and I get to work late and my boss has gone out but the fucking twat has left a note on my desk saying where are you? and I think fuck off you twat and I’m thinking I’m not in the mood for being wound up today and he’s out all day until about 2:30 and it only takes him until 2:40 to wind me up and I don’t know whether I’ve got less tolerant over the last few weeks or he’s got worse as he never used to wind me up so much but now I know what all those looks were for when I first started working for him two years ago when everyone looked at me in a pitying way and I said no, he’s fine to work for and it’s taken me two years to realise what all those looks were for because he really is a pain in the arse but anyway he eventually fucks off and stops annoying me and I can get on with my far more important business of meeting up with Gary and Kate for a night on the piss and we meet up in what used to be the no smoking pub and then we go and eat too much and are shocked by the size of the chairs and even more shocked by the size of the bill and so we decide to be cheapskates and not pay the service charge and anyway you expect to be served in a restaurant, why else would you go? and then we try and find the Belgian bar we’d come out to investigate and my directions are crap so I phone Tracey who I had been relying on to find it but she had emailed to say she was sick and couldn’t come out but did I want to go on a pub crawl with her on Saturday that involved getting free t-shirts and I say I can’t go on a pub crawl, I’m going for pizza, but anyway she directs us to the pub and we find it and Kate says if she buys the round will we stand outside with her so she can smoke and we say ok then and we spend ages looking at the beer menu and I have a chocolate beer that I decide I don’t like very much and think that you shouldn’t fuck about with chocolate and put it in beer and the next round I have a sour red beer which is nice and we spend a few hours going through the beer menu but don’t even make a dent in it and decide we have to go back sometime and try more beer and somewhere in the evening I decide we all have to go to Copenhagen in September and Gary says can’t we go next year and I say no, that’s too far away, we have to go in September and I’ll get a passport and then we decide to find a northern line station for Kate to get home and Gary says I know the way to Moorgate, we’ll walk, it’s not far and I say do you know the way and he says yes, it’s just down there and then we’re walking and walking and walking and my leg is hurting and I’m limping and I say you lying bastard you don’t know where you’re going, I could have found our way there quicker, I walk that way every morning on the way to work and we end up in a Wetherspoon’s in Old Street and there are some trees and I say where did the trees come from, are they stolen? and we drink in the Wetherspoon’s until chucking out time and I say my train’s not ’til 1, where can we get more beer and Gary says he’ll find somewhere and we find a tube for Kate and we go past some bars that have huge queues and I don’t want to queue and then we get to Liverpool Street and my train’s going to leave in two minutes so I decide to get on the train instead of trying to find more beer and get home and somehow I manage to lose my iPod headphones between the front door and the table which even by my standards is remarkable and I go to bed and I wake up and think thank fuck it’s Friday and I get on the scales and they tell me I’m my heaviest ever and I think I don’t actually care.

Lardathon Day #12
Starting weight: 9 st 4
Current weight: 9 st 4
Breakfast: Muesli & soya yoghurt
Lunch: Quorn ham slices and salad sandwich on granary bread
Dinner: Humous, halloumi, borek, mantar
Other: Nectarine
Lard based confessions: Shitloads of Belgian beer
None. Oops.


  • poor waitress 🙂

  • Well sounds like you had fun out and about except for the sore leg.

  • Wowser. What an adventure.

    BTW, do you pause to breath when you talk? Very interesting writing style. It keeps the reader in a state of suspense. 🙂

    I must say that after reading all these UK blogs I’ve realized (or realised) that my understanding of the English language is severly lacking.

  • I don’t think I talk like I blog but I’m probably not the best person to ask 🙂

    Which strange English words do you need translating? Joggerblogger just makes most of his words up, so don’t worry about his blog 😉

  • chokka is a funny word but it sounds Australian to me so that can’t be Kates stumbling block.

    How did you hurt your leg?

  • My leg’s been bad since my 8 mile treadmill extravaganza 🙁

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