Buckle that swash.
Four weeks on a course with the fitness industry’s equivalent of David Brent tested my patience and homicidal urges (previously suitably dormant) to a wonderful new level. This portly chap dished out his wonderful nutritional advice through the most pornographic of moustaches long before Movember had entered our thoughts. The glaring contradictions in his dietary gospel enraged even the most passive of attendees at one of his tangent rich sermons. Testing times.
In spite of our perpetual rage in the classroom almost everyone passed and are now qualified fitness professionals. Kudos to all who triumphed in the face of such moustached and plump adversity. Bless the poor fellow; he is a terrifically nice guy although horrendously misguided in his approach. The end of course shindig was poorly attended, shitely orchestrated and thoroughly enjoyed by most. Erotic hula-hooping, Mr. McCann decking a sprinting felon, far too many toxins and a long cold walk home made for a princely hangover the next day. Cue a change of scenery for a cheeky Stirling shenanigan of a Tuesday evening.
After overturning the majority of the items in the household searching for my pirate boots I conceded defeat and hurtled towards Stirling at dangerous speeds with what can only be described as significant mal-intent. A quick-fire training session led us into the murky dark of Stirling’s nightlife. Dressed as a pirate I aimed to swashbuckle the night away even in the absence of a rapier with which to buckle said swash. Cue a Pants and Tony drinking session; which are notorious for ending less than well. Some 6 Jager-Bombs and a jug of cocktails later it was clear that a dance-off was going to be necessary as our travelling tales were oft intermitted with spontaneous bouts of boogying. Several more shots and a minor lapse in time allowed for limbs to flail marvellously in and out of time with the music simultaneously. Pants was pretty much passed out whilst still dancing so triumph and glory were mine. After a chivalrous stroll in accompaniment to the taxi rank I slummed it out on Silver Fox’s floor.
Waking up almost naked face down in what was thankfully a fair accumulation of my own saliva provided me with the platform to set about my day with an optimistic splendour. Eventually homeward bound it was to sleep, wash and relax all of which had become pressing matters although not necessarily in that order.
In spite of our perpetual rage in the classroom almost everyone passed and are now qualified fitness professionals. Kudos to all who triumphed in the face of such moustached and plump adversity. Bless the poor fellow; he is a terrifically nice guy although horrendously misguided in his approach. The end of course shindig was poorly attended, shitely orchestrated and thoroughly enjoyed by most. Erotic hula-hooping, Mr. McCann decking a sprinting felon, far too many toxins and a long cold walk home made for a princely hangover the next day. Cue a change of scenery for a cheeky Stirling shenanigan of a Tuesday evening.
After overturning the majority of the items in the household searching for my pirate boots I conceded defeat and hurtled towards Stirling at dangerous speeds with what can only be described as significant mal-intent. A quick-fire training session led us into the murky dark of Stirling’s nightlife. Dressed as a pirate I aimed to swashbuckle the night away even in the absence of a rapier with which to buckle said swash. Cue a Pants and Tony drinking session; which are notorious for ending less than well. Some 6 Jager-Bombs and a jug of cocktails later it was clear that a dance-off was going to be necessary as our travelling tales were oft intermitted with spontaneous bouts of boogying. Several more shots and a minor lapse in time allowed for limbs to flail marvellously in and out of time with the music simultaneously. Pants was pretty much passed out whilst still dancing so triumph and glory were mine. After a chivalrous stroll in accompaniment to the taxi rank I slummed it out on Silver Fox’s floor.
Waking up almost naked face down in what was thankfully a fair accumulation of my own saliva provided me with the platform to set about my day with an optimistic splendour. Eventually homeward bound it was to sleep, wash and relax all of which had become pressing matters although not necessarily in that order.