I don’t know about you but even at the ripe old age of 46 I still feel like an 8 year old and with September looming, it’s coming to the end of the summer hols, a fact underlined by the start of the football season the weekend just gone. Supporting a team that gets beat 6-1 at home on the opening day is a classic case of ‘I didn’t choose to be a football supporter, football chose me.’ In many ways I truly wish I just didn’t care about football, but that would be like trying not to care about beer, sex and life in general. Recently I have even been contemplating death – not in a suicidal way (well, not often) but more in a ‘am I ready for this’ scenario. Well boy you’ve got the rest of your life to get ready for that one so best get on with it.
With this in mind I have made two big adjustments to my life – Drink less beer, and start training. The former is easy as crisp cold San Pellegrino fizzy water with half a lime does wonders for replacing a crisp cold San Miguel without any lime no problem. But the training is a little bit different. The running is ok but it’s the upper body that is screaming in protest at the amount of press ups and chin ups it is being required to perform. It is ten long years since these muscles saw a proper sustained period of working out and they say muscles have memories but these lot must have forgotten because they really are not happy at this latest Sunday development
So the result is every Monday I wake up feeling completely wretched and done in, in no way able to work and barely able to breath. This feeling continues long into the week, to around about Saturday lunch, when a few swift pints soon sort that out – completely exhausted, sighing and whingeing all the time, and looking in the mirror every 5 minutes to see if there is even a modicum of growth to those pecs in exchange for all the hardship they are experiencing. I don’t know why I bother – as soon as I stop, within a few weeks I will have developed man boobs where once there used to be hard muscle. Gutted.
For those of you who are in the slightest bit interested, I live on a diet of dehulled hemp seed and hemp oil right now, with an assortment of fruit vegetables and grains to accompany. Hemp to Slick Timbo is like spinach to Popeye – I swear by it and with about 100gms of dehulled seed a day, and a 500ml bottle of help oil a week there is no way I am going short of nutrients.
Anyway – it is Monday morning so best off get some work done – we are releasing issue 4 of Off the Hoof online for free this week after me and Posh Eddy became converts to the Hopi Indian prophecies after catching them on YouTube – and decided that issue 4 is so good that it needs delivering to the 4 corners of the world via the internet without charge.
And we are announcing our new Off The Hoof On Tour Eco Veggie Fayres this week too so there’s a load to be done and as usual I cant really be bovvered with any of it but there you go, with any luck I’ll get fit and be able to keep up with the demands of running 4 businesses without an overdraft in a recession.
Until next time
Xxxpeace Slick Timbo
Ps Big thanks going out to all our team and all our supporters – you are truly magnificent. In Moyes we trust.
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