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Thursday, July 21, 2005

The big news of the day is that according to my bathroom scales this morning, I'm officially back down to the weight I was before I went to America in March. So I've finally managed to lose the two weeks worth of fast food fat I acquired in the ice cream parlours of Texas. And it's only taken me four months. Hurrah! I just wish Saddam Hussein could have seen me looking this slim.

It's perfect timing, because having shed the pounds like nobody's business, it means I can eat to my heart's content at the two (count them) birthday meals I have booked for next weekend. And by November I should have lost that weight too.

But fortunately, in an effort to stop me eating, my freezer helpfully broke down last night, and seems beyond repair, meaning I now have very little to eat, and will be surviving on Laughing Cow sandwiches until I can be bothered to drive to Asda. I'm planning to market the idea as a weightloss plan called 'The Broken Freezer Diet'. It should be a big seller.

In other news, Lisa and I now have tickets to see purple charlatan Colin Fry at the end of August. In the words of Lisa, "we're officially going to chat to the dead on my birthday". I'm hoping to get a message from my deceased cat, Oscar. He left rather suddenly, and I'd just like to know that he doesn't blame me for over-feeding him Felix.

Oh, and one other thing - I've managed to get hold of a copy of the current issue of Front magazine, which features a four-page article on King Nicholas. I've not bought the magazine before, and I'm not all that familiar with lad's mags in general, so could someone please explain to me what "regal as f*ck" means?