That's probably too much for some of the bleeding hearts, I'm probably guilty of lazy, ignorant, stereotyping. F*ck off – I'm the one who has been stolen from and I'm no millionaire. Anyway, back to the reputable guy, David Cox is his name, using a book by Paul Chek, I'd sooner be bald than tired, apparently I'm a protein type and I need to eat more proteins and proper full fats none of this reduced fat processed nonsense. The absence of carbs screams Atkins, which apparently this isn't. I'm nervous about this because sadly I don't think national advertising can lie (that badly) although everyone (literally everyone) has told me that one of the most popular and prevalent sweetners in the world (Aspartame) is the root of all evil, maybe I'm being naïve! The other thing I'm wary about with this Diet is that before my stroke, I ate what I wanted and never had a problem with energy, why should a bit of brain damage totally alter the relationship between your diet and your energy levels? No idea what the answer to that is. I'll tell you who else can't answer that question: Medical Science; doctors;consultants; neurologists; brain surgeons; interventional neuro-radiologists (apparently); psychologists; neuro-psychologists; psychiatrists and anyone with a hoighty toighty high falluting title because every bloody time I have ever seen a so-called expert they've been no help. This isn't me advocating put yourself in the hands of 'alternative medicine' because some of them are charlatans, thieves and my personal favourite 'daft hippies' and if someone as much as mentions the 'power of positive thought' I'll run their toes over! The thing that really upsets me is that it has taken over four years and I still feel terrible. If I bought a pint in a pub(sod it several pints) and I didn't feel any different after drinking them, I'd be furious, I'd feel cheated – this is how I've felt everyday since I woke from my coma in those happy days of January 2006!
As usual I've been trying to keep my mind off all this by taking in a gig or two – this week it was the Editors
at Brixton Academy and comedian Sean Lock
in Blackheath. Both ended up being sold out and I almost couldn't go to either because my lift for the Editors fell through and I plain forgot to ask anyone for Sean Lock but even though begging for help chips away at my remaining dignity, my begs received answers, on Thursday my personal trainer, Jose (pictured here with his other half Rebecca, a nutritionist who helped me refine my blunderbus-like supplement intake). He's a good lad, we were talking in the car on the way to Brixton and he told me his best mate is also called Jose and he'd be a rich man if he had a pound for everytime someone had told him the joke 'what do you call 2 Spanish firemen?' Hose-A and Hose-B of course!I met hose-A and Bec through a mutual friend I met on the internet) and at the end of the gig when he said 'I really enjoyed that' it effectively doubled the worth of going. I do hope Sarah, a very pretty stranger who yabbered something to me at the end of the gig about the 'Editors being like Joy division'. Whatever that means, I'd only got tickets because I'd seen them on TV at Glastonbury and thought they looked good, my record of enjoying stuff live, I've seen firston TV is pretty good, Kasabian, the Killers, Lady GaGa -what can I say? I'm an advertisers dream! I hope this girl, Sarah, gets in touch, she did write down my email address, but nothing yet – although she did do that thing that all pretty girls seem to do that reminded me of this:
Isn't the bloke a spectacular pr*ck? It does make me laugh though because girls do do that – they casually slip in the b word thinking it will have no impact but it is metaphorically similar to booting a dog across a road. I have been debating whether to include this because it does make me chuckle in a sort of puerile way and I suppose it's airing dirty laundry in public but I couldn't resist when a friend mailed me about feeling down I replied with this The girl who I went out with for seven years
and broke my heart emailed me out of the blue the other day, I
couldn't resist childishly replying - your husband hasn't turned out
to be gay?
I've not had a reply and I'm not expecting one - Childish, but it made me feel better. I should probably stop doing things like that, But some things are just too hard to recover from. I used the metaphor in this once to describe my progress as 'dragging a dead horse across a plateau'. I hope I start noticing a difference soon! I am bored, badly bored but Sean Lock was good last night and my ribs still hurt . He may not be the slickest comedian, in fact he did say that – but his delivery as 'angry man in the pub' and his tactical (sparing) use of swearing is funny as f*ck (I can't do it) is masterful. His observational stuff is spot on too – like those fans in toilets being nothing to do with Ventilation, they're there to hide the sound of people using the loo. Eg the sounds of people strainingg that sound like someone trying to get a double mattress up a spiral staircase! I must thank Michael Lewis for taking me. Sadly his partner Gaelle couldn't make it because she was holding the fort with her 10 yr old daughter Lucie and my heart goes out to them about the difficulties they've been having with their landlord which looks like forcing them to move from a house they're happy in. Natural Justice just doesn't exist. Anyone who thinks it does is as stupid as Glen Hoddle!