Hello Stranger, My Best Friend

Hi,

Nice to meet you. You're at this thing too, huh? Who do you know? Ah, you're her husband. You don't know anyone either? Aha! It appears that you have all the qualifications to be: MY BEST FRIEND FOR THE EVENING.

Let's bond through the medium of Jägerbombs. You want to drink Crème de Menthe mixed with Baileys? Anything for you buddy, the night is young and we are, of course, the best of friends. Let's try some Sambucca.

I have given you your assassin name: "The Chiropractor." I shall refer to you by this for the rest of the evening.

We start to share strangly intimate details. That's ok. We're friends forever. Let's dance. Golly! You can really move. If I wasn't married and a little bit more gay, you'd be the guy for me.

You know, I think our lady wives are really impressed with our behaviour. Look at the way they are looking at us. I think that's called "eye-fucking." I am really lucky to have a best friend like you. Man these whiskey-shooters are good. Perhaps they'd taste better in a pint of guinness.

It's three thirty ay em and we have started discussing homoerotic action thrillers. I too think that Jason Statham has never appeared in a bad movie. Its a pity that Josh Hartnett isn't in more films.

Someone is taking photos? Huddle up, buddy! We'll want to capture this moment and remember it for the rest of our lives.

The bluffers guide to a half marathon.

Decide to do the race at the last minute, make sure you haven't planned or trained towards it at all.

Make sure you have never run the distance. In fact keep any running you do under 5kms.

Two days before the race eat and drink as much as possible. I recommend the Dom Perignon 1999. Exceptional. Wash this down with at least 5 pints of heineken. Not necessarily in that order.

Get a rotten nights sleep.

Get to where you are going, register, then go out and buy some gear (socks, shorts etc.)

On the night before the race, eat as much as possible. To aid digestion of the Goats cheese, scallops, pannacotta and 1/2 bottle of pouilly fume, I recommend a peppermint tea to aid digestion. Drink a lucosade sport before bed.

Get a rotten nights sleep.

Get up, have a Lucosade Sport, two poached eggs, two sausages, some brown bread, toast and two cups of coffee.

Pee. A lot.

Tog out and run the marathon. Make sure that you have vaselined your balls and nipples throughly.

Feel a sense of elation and satisfaction at having run a 1/2 Marathon.

Eat a banana and some snickers. Go and eat a throughly repulsive lunch. Have a pint of Guinness.

Begin to feel pain, drink some more lucozade sport. Eat a three course meal, Drink a bottle of wine (Bordeaux, if possible). End the night with a gin and tonic.

Wake up. Really feel extreme pain. Have breakfast (full irish). Have a bath. Go home, go to bed.

Wake up. Feel less pain. Go to work. Go for a swim. Go to bed.

...TBC...

Triathlon

A couple of chaps in work are running in the Dublin City Triathlon. I half-heartedly said I'd give it a go.

There are a couple of issues around this (always with the excuses)

I am a fat fuck

I have young children

I have no runners

I have a shit bike

I have no wetsuit

I have taken no serious exercise in 15 years

So, if I am going to take this seriously here's the plan:

Buy runners. Make sure that they cost more than the bike.

Ride the bike I have

Buy a wetsuit

Run small distances at night

Cycle to work

Swim

Swim in a river

That's it eh? Willpower required. Lots and lots and lots. We'll see, I'm not very hopeful.