Monday, March 21, 2011

Busy, busy, busy

Today I went to the gym, partly because I want to start riding my bike more frequently, and thus feel the need to get Big And Strong. Or at least a bit bigger and stronger. Or at least not have arms so feeble that I can't hold onto the handlebars, or legs so weak that I can't stand on the pedals for more than a moment.

But also because I drank three pints of Wifebeater last night, and needed to clean my system out.

I'm not sure if a diet of hot cross buns and 'reassuringly expensive' lager is the best preparation for an evening of exercise, and I'd also been woken by the cat sitting on my chest and purring this morning, so perhaps I wasn't fully ready. However, my new exercise regime consists of just lifting something very heavy very slowly, and after about twelve minutes I was quite limp and weak, which felt very efficient.

I warmed down on the rowing machine. The woman next to me was rowing while listening to her ipad. This looked a bit daft, because she had it on the floor and her headphones running up to it, flicking around with every movement fore and aft. Plus an ipad is a large, expensive and quite fragile gadget - not the kind of thing to put on the floor of a room full of exhausted, sweaty people. I'm not saying she should have been like me, but a little ipod is a lot more practical to strap to your arm than an A4 sized computer.

Although if she had done a workout with her ipad strapped to her arm, it probably would have been quite a lot of exercise.

But then you'd end up with one arm much bigger than the other, unless the ipad arm was much smaller to start with. And I'm no doctor, but I reckon if your limbs are that ill-matched, you probably require specialist intervention, not a man on the internet telling you to tie your computer to your bicep.

After the gym I felt better - I don't think I can have been hungover all day, but my head was in a mess, my guts were in open defiance and I wanted to die - oh, on reflection I was hungover, wasn't I?

As I came out of Tin Hau MTR, I heard shouting. This time it was an angry old man in an ill-fitting stripy shirt, shouting at some fruit. This was less aggravating than the angry shouting man in Central MTR last week, although not if you were a fruit, I suppose, or if you had to hang around and listen to him for half an hour. Perhaps I should start logging shouty man appearances around Hong Kong, and provide some sort of guide for tourists.

This would make up for me polluting the internet with irrelevance. Last week I unwisely titled a post "St Patrick's Day and nudity" and had ten times the number of visitors I usually receive, although I imagine they were all disappointed as they'd found me by typing 'nude st patricks day' into Google, and I hadn't come up with the visual goods, so to speak.

Though this tells us that in order to boost traffic to a website, apparently you just need the word 'naked' in close proximity to the name of a particular holiday. Which means if I run out of things to write later this year, I can just pump out Easter nudity, Thanksgiving nudity and Hannukah nudity.

Shouldn't have used the word 'pump' there.

Two other projects: one that's reaching completion, and another that's starting, but I'll talk about them in another post.


Post a Comment