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manicmustard-blog-blog · 5 years

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Changes. Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes.

Many people have asked me what it feels like to have lost a lot of weight. Now, I can hear some of you running for cover. "Oh God, the prat's about to wittle on about weight-loss and fitness and all that....save meeeeeeee" before you close down the webpage, open up Youporn and search for greased-up blonde midgets. I mean, that's what I'd do. In fact I still might. But nope, I wanted to share a post that isn't so much about the physical journey I've been on in the last couple of years so much as the mental journey. Because it's occured to me today that it's been a hell of a ride, it's far from over, and most weight-loss/fitness blogs and articles don't really touch on it.

So, what am I talking about you may wonder? Well, it's a strange one. When I first wanted to get fit, it was for several reasons. First and foremost, I was the size of the deathstar, which according to medically-recognised officials is generally not a good thing. "Dat's no moon innit blud". So, fair enough, I thought, they have PhDs and impressive little rooms with ferns in and the ability to prescribe heavy drugs so I might as well listen to them. Being less large and able to shop in normal places seemed like a good reason. Also, my local Dominos delivery driver was starting to become like a best friend and that's never a good sign.

Secondly! Back in the day I was diagnosed with type 2 Diabetes and if I'm being quite honest, I quite fancied a future where I don't have to worry about my legs dropping off. I quite like my legs, they're useful for walking and punting small children out the way. Admittedly, there was potential here to go full pirate mode with my pegleg, but then I've got to buy a parrot and let's face it, the fuckers are expensive, repeat boring catchphrases and then shit on you when they think you’re not looking and I'd already had various humans in my life that could fill that role without much difficulty.

Fine, fine, so yes, those two reasons ALONE were and still are great basic reasons to get fitter and lose weight. But I can honestly say a big part of the reason I keep on the wagon now is for the mental gains. I mean, I was depressed back then. I don't think I was completely aware of it but I was. I had little motivation, not much to strive for (or had lost faith in striving for) and I didn't set many goals in my head. To be honest, I am still quite simple with my life goals - I'm not interested in a lot of shit that interests other people because I see it as superfluous, pretentious shite that I really don't need, but then on the other hand I buy tat like virtual reality equipment and jump around my room pretending to be a cyborg ninja, after which I play in virtual reality... But now, I feel like I want to get up in the morning, I want to do my workouts, I'm looking forward to the future with confidence and a sense of excitement while being grounded in the present moment. It's difficult to explain but I honestly feel alive again and have done for a good couple of years now. Plus my future wishes are quite simple, a woman I only spend 30% of my time wanting to murder, kids that aren't as much of a fuckup as I was, a nice place to live by a forest and eventual world domination. I mean, it's the little things right?

Now, that doesn't mean I don't get down days. In fact, part of the reason I've started to write this diaryesque article isn't because it's just sunshine and roses. That wouldn't really warrant an article and would be boring to write as well as to read. No, it's more about the complex ups and downs I've found myself going through as my overall mood has noticably increased bit by bit. I've found myself having to actualy get used to being cheerful and confident for a start - now how fucking stupid does that sound right? Being that way should probably be natural, but for me, I've still had a bit of "fatbrain" in the back of the mind feeling almost uncomfortable in the moments where I'm happy, confident and feeling on top of my game. It's almost as if part of me is so NOT used to feeling like that, there's been part of me trying to hold that back.

I mean, how stupid is that. Feeling uncomfortable with feeling comfortable? Anyway, another thing I've noticed is that my sense of self, or ego, or whatever the hell you want to call it has skyrocketed slowly but surely since this all began. Now that's been a weird one. When I was younger, in fact, for a good deal of my life, I've had a sense of self, of who I was - but I was always very good at hiding it, because naturally I didn't have much of an ego plus quite frankly I'm a bit weird (now I'm just okay with this and glad I'm not as limited as some in the way I think and act) I was that teenager/20s guy that had never had a girlfriend, never got laid, had trouble concentrating and generally got treated a bit like a second-class citizen due to the way I carried myself and most likely my appearence - NOT being a victim here - it is what it is and I should have learned quicker to sort my shit out. But the point being, the majority of my lifetime with that kind of perspective of feeling like I wasn't as good as others, not as intelligent nor as confident kind of creates a massive, huge distortion when you spend a few years sweating your arse off and suddenly start to realise "Hey, actually I can do xyz task quicker than most people I know, I deal with situations without getting flustered and my mindset is healthier and more active than it's ever been" and suddenly, blam, slowly but surely something just changes - confidence, assertiveness, thinking on my feet, worrying very little about what others think, taking my time to address situations and genuinely feeling just great suddenly flowed into my life. It's honestly the weirdest feeling...but like everything else, it's taken time to get used to. It's basically my sense of equilibrium getting flipped completely on its arse.

See, the slight trouble with going from miserable shutin to sociable happy person is not just the fact it feels uncomfortable. It's about realising boundaries and having enough mindfulness to not let it take over. I've found that I've had issues with aggression, I tolerate little to no bullshit and I am aware that sometimes I'm walking around maybe a bit too happy and cheerful for some people's liking (fuck em). But the bonus (or the thing holding you back, says my inner voice) of being who I was before is that I still have a decent amount of empathy in my system. I find it worryingly a LOT easier to simply make a decision now and not necessarily worry too much about hurting someones feelings if there is the need for it. I haven't and still don't feel bad about that. I go by the mantra of "Don't be a cunt unless you have to" and I honestly believe that. Besides, I can't keep everybody happy all the time and if ultimately they're fucking up, doing something stupid or worse, have decided to have a cheap shot at me, then to be honest, they did it to themselves. It's not that I can't understand what that person is feeling, but it's incredibly easy to hit the off-switch when it comes to actually caring. That in itself has made me feel uncomfortable and indeed a bit worried in the evenings when I'm sat in front of a computer screen contemplating the day and wondering about the person I'm becoming.

*I have suddenly realised this may not be as motivating as I originally thought. Maybe I should headline this article with "Hey, if you get fitter, you can turn into a narcasistic sociopath with occasional rare spurts of empathy and a God-complex too! Fun for all the family! Until you eventually eat them."*

Ahem, where was I... So yeah, overall, without wittering on, it's just honestly surprising how much your personality can change along with your perspective, sense of self and Christ, everything! I honestly never expected all that to change. I mean, dieting for less fat...bonus! I'll look better. Maybe get fitter and be able to do more...wicked, I love walking up stairs without having to change my shirt! All that honestly I expected, but if you said to me "Keep on it and you'll basically change into a very, VERY different person." Then I'd have laughed. I mean, I went through a psychotic breakdown many years ago where I completely lost my mind, and yet I still came out of it more or less the same person when my brain stitched itself back together. It's just weird. And I am very very grateful, because as a closing note, I'll be completely honest. I didn't like who I used to be very much. I do now though. Or at least, I'm learning to.

#fitness change personality confidence fitnessbenefits happiness

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 6 years

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My Kingdom for some bread.

Well. It's been a hard week here in the UK. First off. The apocalypse happened. And by that I meant it snowed, got a little bit cold and basically everybody utterly lost their shit and left their houses in mass droves in order to buy as much milk and bread as they could possibly fit in their claw-like appendages before wobbling down the streets like demented penguins, snarling and hissing at anybody nearby who dared to cast their eyes on their moist yeasty goodness. Basically like any other day except with bread instead of tinfoil and meths. We get a nice crowd where I work.

And yes, as some of you know, I work in a shop. So I got the utter joy of listening to gormless fuckwits cry out "Ey mayteeee, you not got any milk or bread left?" before I would inform them in the most professional manner possible that "No, we had no milk, the cows are all dead and every baker in the country had been executed and their entire families set on fire" Suffice to say, the customers weren't impressed, I was mildly amused and great fun was had by all.

Particularly noteworthy mention should go to one particular customer, who when faced with a completely empty milk-fridge, decided to literally put his hand upto his forehead and slowly peer at every shelf with slow and meaningful intent as if he were a ranger stuck on the hills looking out for an army in the far distance. Maybe he thought the back of the fridge extended several dozen miles or perhaps he assumed that we'd equipped all the bottles with cloaking technology out of the Predator movie and he was waiting to see the tell-tale shimmer of a cloaked bottle of semi-skimmed quivering in fear.

Now. I understand of course that it was particularly bad weather for us at least. We're not Russia, Finland or Canada and aren't used to well...anything other than rain really. But do people really have to panic so much when the white stuff drops? Not only that, but do they have to state the fucking obvious? Over the last few days I've been informed in a stern manner by one angry women that "People will have to use more heating because it's cold"....no shit Sherlock. They'll probably drink more water when it's hot as well. Here's your Nobel fucking peace prize. Incidentally, I’m still trying to understand why she seemed so annoyed with me while mentioning the plight of having to top up her gas card for her heating? Did she think that I made it snow, or that somehow the gas prices were my doing. I mean. I wish they were. Being an omnipotent God AND in charge of British Gas would be a sweet deal. But urm, no basically.

Oh and top marks goes to one regular who in a verrrrrrryy serious matter of fact way told me "Well, it'll be dangerous to walk around if it rains, because the thing is...(insert pause for dramatic effect...I shit you not) you see...water turns to ice when it's cold." FUCKING HELL. NEWSFLASH EVERYBODY! Apparently water turns to fucking ice when it gets cold enough!! Jesus H fucking Christ! How did we cope before getting that turd-nugget of truth into the system? Next thing we know is when the summer comes, I'm going to have the same cunt standing in front of the shop with a melted ice-cream all the way up his arsehole telling me that he's just found out cold stuff melts when it gets warm. Why up his arsehole? I don't know. I could venture a guess involving a gimp, some rope and a slightly dodgy scenario involving the afore-mentioned Cornetto and half a pack of butter, but why ask questions when you get stupid fucking answers?

Oh and particular note-worthy mention should go to all those who queued up, desperate for groceries, scratching each others eyes out and commenting on each other with the same level of disdain that I generally hold for most of the human race. Well fucking done to you people, as already stated I couldn’t agree more!..but here's the thing - if you're the person who's currently queued up with enough supplies for a month and blatantly part of the panic-buying shambling masses...then don't look around at all your fellow shoppers with an air of superiority then sneer to your friends at how every other dumb fucker there is panic-buying and can't cope when you're blatantly doing exactly the same fucking thing! I mean, it's a bit like me going to a pub, drinking copious amounts of vodka, shitting myself in glee before smearing half a kebab down my face and then walking through town pointing at everybody else commenting on what a pissed-up disgrace they all are. You just don't do it! If you're going to panic-buy, or act a twat, then just get to grips with it and accept it like a comfortable pair of knickers. Don't point at every other cunt before sticking a label on your head that says you're the smart one.

#beastfromtheeast weather britaininnit useyourloaf

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 7 years

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Keto = Bacon. Bacon = :)

Once again yes I'm a lazy bastard and haven't written anything in a while, mainly because my life consists of work, working out and playing video games. I live an exciting existence. Much like a unicorn that bathes itself in hemp oil and then considers setting fire to itself just to feel the itchy goodness of the warming flames as they gently caress its pink genitals and set fire to the universe. But of course that would be way too exciting so no.

Instead I tend to wait till something interests me sufficiently enough to write about it and to be honest, I've had enough of political bullshit recently so I really can't be arsed to discuss that. Except of course to say that we're all going to hell, the Earth is fucking doomed and we might as well eat fucking cake. Because on the one hand we have lefty lunatics that want to change history to make themselves feel comfortable in their safe space while simultaneously forcing several genders on every man woman and child ("No Lucy, you're not a girl, you're actually a fucking manbeast from the planet Zod, now go play with your imaginary penis") and on the other hand we have people who want to see gays and young people shot into the sun. It seems few people have balance and more and more people go far on one side or the other and then defend "their side" like a fucking religion. I'm more centre-right wing and can see obvious plus points from both (yes, I'm switzerland, sue me) but seriously, life is too short so fuck all of that. Like I said, we're all doomed and quite frankly it's about time. Now where's my fucking cake?

But seriously. Today I'm going to do another article about the whole fitness/weight-loss bullshit (and....that's 90% of your readership closing the tab) because yes, it's what I do, yes I'm slightly obsessed and yes it seems to work. So on with business.

Now, I've recently reached another plateau. To be exact, I did about a month or so ago. Nothing new, when you lose a LOT of weight, it won't happen just once. It'll happen several times. Now there's scientific reasons for this, ranging from metabolic adaptation, to hormone-changes and all kinds of other shite, but let's just call it the magical Fairy that frags diets in the arse and leave it at that. So yeah, once again I was working out, dieting and the scales were sitting kinda still. How fucking boring right?

So yet again. I decided to change things up. Now previously I've upped my workouts, dropped bad habits, added intermittant fasting and a few extra supplements and they've got me through a tough patch. But this time I decided to try something that I've read about a LONGggggg time ago, which quite frankly sounded so good I've left it as my "magic bullet" for when I really hit a hard patch. And recently, I hit that hard patch. With my bum. No. Only joking. Metaphor motherfucker. Harf harf.

So what did I do? I went Keto. And by that I mean I tried something called the Keto diet. Now, it sounds complicated and if you google it you'll get weighed down with a million fucking technical bits and bobs that explains in a very boring fashion how it works - but basically, in laymens terms it's a slightly ripped off version of the Atkins diet from the 80s/90s, which in turn was a ripoff of a diet done in the 50s/60s to cure epilipsy. So anyway, does the cunting thing work? Glad you asked!

In short, you eat less than 20g of carbs a day. This starves your body of carbs, your body then does magic and adapts to consume fat and protein more effectively and instead of running mainly on glucose, your body then runs on ketones! Like I said magic. So, the obvious advantage to this is that you get to eat cheese, bacon, butter, sausages, steak, pork, mince etc etc. As long as it's got a decent protein/fat content and virtually no carbs, you're good! Of course, you have to keep in a calorie deficit to lose weight because as with any diet, it always comes down to calories in vs calories out. Simple.

So the advantages? Well, from my own personal experience, I feel less like I'm on a diet. Don't get me wrong, I still have spells during the day when I'm hungry (especially when I do a mini fast till midday/afternoon) but the hunger is much less intense. Also, the food being based on fat and protein takes longer to break down and generally leaves you satisfied for longer. Oh and results! First week I lost 11lbs, (no doubt mostly water weight) and this week I've lost 3lbs. So in that area I'm quite happy.

Only downsides obviously are no bread, no milk, no rice, pasta and obviously no sweets/chocolates/shite whatsoever. But on the flipside keto isn't necessarily a diet to live on forever, but it does seem to be an effective way of burning through your belly fat by making your body consume fat as a primary resource. No doubt, I'll go back to a balanced diet at somepoint when I'm bored of it. But honestly, having bacon, eggs and garlic mushrooms cooked in butter as my first meal of the day makes a hell of a change from the usual oats and soup that I have for breakfast/lunch.

So would I recommend keto? Absolutely. You'll piss like a racehorse from all the water you're drinking, your fridge will be full of chunks of animal-flesh (mmm, tasty!) and you'll buy butter by the ton. But. If you do it right, you'll lose weight and feel pretty decent. Unless of course you eat the butter by the stick like somekind of fucked up dairy lollipop. In which case, you're doing it wrong and I don't envy your toilet.

#keto lazybastard unicorns wibblyfuckingwobble

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 7 years

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NotquitesurewhereIwasgoingwiththis.

I'm a lazy fucker. I really am. I keep meaning to update this damned thing and yet once again I find myself off doing other things, like saving the world from blood-sucking transvestite wombats or enabling tiny midgets (sorry, the vertically challenged) to finally cast off their insecurities by smothering themselves in a mixture of jam and gecko faeces while they parade around in high heels shouting about their human fucking rights. I also occasionally make toast. That's a lie. I don't do bread. Carbs innit.

The reality of course is that I have a job and the attention span of the aforementioned wombats (mmm, honey) plus I may or may not be a tad crazy so that whole prioritizing thing generally goes out the window. Much like the idea of that realistic Lego fire station I wanted when I was six. Thanks mom. It's not like you ruined my childhood or anything.

And speaking of moms and ruined childhoods. Inevitably we think of supermarkets. Now. I'm a bit of a weird fucker. I actually like shopping and that does include in supermarkets. I like patrolling through the aisles with one eye on my six looking for fresh deals to terminate and the gathering of so many types of food in one place always makes me think about exotic places in the world that I've never been and possibly may never go. It's just a weird thing, I find them usually relaxing. But as with all things. The cracks start to appear, the reality of what is and what may be starts to leak into my subconscious and for some God knows why reason I find myself slowly thinking about massacring everybody within a 20ft radius. Make that 25ft. That way we'll get the cunts perusing the salad aisle who casually glared at me for taking the last courgette. Fuck them and their vegetable racism.

So. Taking a deep breath. I'm going to be honest and cast aside my usual cloak of "Idontgiveafuckery" and be totally honest about what fucks me off about these places when I'm not walking around with the patience of a saint. Think of this as being like Gandhi when he finally slipped on a moist turd and decided "Fuck it, I'm nuking Jerusalem and banning fun" Because I'm pretty sure that's what happened.

Well first off. I generally like to walk around being a reasonably considerate cunt. Not overly considerate. Nobody likes a fucking walkover and since I spent pretty much the first 20 years of my life being a doormat to every fucking potato with a mouth, I have come to the conclusion that it isn't much fun. But honestly, I still don't feel the need to walk around like an utter dick bouncing into every other poor bastard who gets anywhere near me. Some people in supermarkets, on the other hand seem to either have their "twat" switch pushed all the way up to 11 or they have absolutely no fucking spatial awareness whatsoever.

*Splat* "...ran over some cunts foot. Oh well." *Boom.* ".smashed into some old guy, shattering his fucking pelvis for good measure." *Kablowey* "Oh look. I ran over an orphaned cat with aids and then ate her kittens. Take that you furry cunt."

I mean, who does that?

Seriously, use those fucking eye things occasionally and look around and don't hit every other peon on your mission to get some spaghetti to feed your equally dense bastard family with. In fact, just do us all a favour and stay home and fucking starve. That way I don't have to worry about you rear-ending my arsehole while I bend over staring into the cheese section thinking about whether I fancy Brie or fucking Gouda.

As well. On the issue of being an inconsiderate wank stain on humanity. Let's talk about some people who take their children to the supermarket. I get it...You have kids. Kids can be a pain in the fucking arse to sometimes control and I honestly have sympathy when I see some poor sod struggling with a months worth of shopping while contending with the demonspawn that vomitted forth from her battered and slightly sad vagina, moaning and crying because they've only got 184 fidget spinners and little bastard Timmy down the road has 185. I get it, you're trying to control the situation and the fact that you haven't marched them over to the salad section to drown the little fuckers in hummus shows an almost infinite amount of restraint. You are not the person who makes me angry.

What makes me angry is the fucktarded parents who walk around letting their kids run their trolleys into people, cause chaos and scream and yell with absolutely NO attempt to fucking control them whatsoever. I get that you think your little angel is special, and their way of expressing themselves is to break anything they touch and fucking run around demanding attention off poor old Doris, who just wants to spend her pension and not think too hard about how she's only got a year at most left on this fucking planet before she finally gets her wish and fucks off back to hell...but come on. At least try to pretend you give a shit! Imagine you're on fucking Facebook if that helps. Or that for every 10 minutes your brats spend not fucking up everyone elses day you'll get an extra gram of shite to shove up your nose and make the pain go away. For fucks sake just do something other than apathetically watching your offspring literally shit on everybody else around them with a moronic look on your face that suggests to me that perhaps a cull isn’t the worst idea ever.

Also, on the list is anybody who decides to look at stuff while dangling their trolley across the entire aisle as they wank off over the posh bacon. We get it. Posh bacon is nice and the correct cultural response is to elevate your genitals to eye height, imagine the smokey goodness and pop one off while trying hard to not think too much about how dirty your frying pan is. And by God do you like it dirty. But seriously, I'm okay with you DOING ALL OF THAT as long as you don't block me and every other poor desperate refuge of humanity while you're in fantasy land thinking about grease and love stains. I mean, for fucks sake. Maybe I want some bacon? Maybe I want to get past? Maybe I want to just pretend this entire fucking building doesn't exist and in fact I'm standing in the digestive tract of a mutant Giraffe with nano boots and an optical sensor where its fucking over-sized robot cock should be? Whatever thought going through my head is interupted by the fact that I can't get past you and your twatting bastard trolley. You do get plus points though when you finally snap back into reality, look around you at the half-dozen shoppers that are waiting to get past and say "ooooo sorry dearies" because we're British and fucking polite and shit. I mean. Manners cost nothing right?

Finally, on the list. People that take the last muffin. Now. As you know. I'm on a diet and technically don't eat muffins because apparently they blow up my uterus or whatever the fucking male equivalent is, but yes, just stop it. Either way. If I eyeball that shit from a fucking mile away and start walking towards it and at the last minute you swoop in with that ever so fucking smug look on your face and snatch that shit away from me and therefore my fucking destiny of eating my glazed trophy muffin, then you and I have a got a fucking problem and by God I WILL glare at you in an intense display of passive-aggression before picking up a donut instead and pumping my ever so moist and angry tears into it's gooey yet firm dough and eating the bastard with one bite before sobbing in the car park and dreaming of a life where myself and the muffin lived happily ever after.

Just don't do it alright. Drop the fucking muffin and walk away. Drop. The. Fucking. Muffin.

Unless it's got cherries or something in it. In which case feel free to take it and choke on that shit.

So yeah. Supermarkets are fun. Take your family. Just not your kids.

#dontwritewhiletiredkids robotvaginas supermarkets regularwriterlol

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 7 years

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Mystery Article. Okay. It’s not. It’s about ferret-farming.

Once again it's time for the dreaded monthly article. The red mist has gathered, a storm is brewing and I'm about to rant about something yet again for the simple fact that I can. Still here? Excellent. But what? What on earth has mildly irritated me today in such unfathomable ways that it can burst apart the very seams of my normally zen-like wellbeing and provide me with enough internal rage to lay siege to your poor eyes with angry words designed to blast and sunder at your very soul?

Well. It's actually something I remember ranting about years ago. So straight off the bat, originality is fucked and flushed down the toilet. Hey, it's 2017, there are no original ideas left and unless you're contemplating whether or not your hairy and slightly pokey vagina means you have 5 genders or 6, you should really be used to this type of thing right now. Fine. You want originality? Try mixing sawdust in with your goulash for an ethnic twist. Perhaps rag a mountain goat while you're at it and you can drain it's juicy innards into a bowl and mush it up with some dead fermented wasps so that you can tell all your friends how fucking cultured and enlightened you are.

Phew. Not you of course dear reader. Just people. You know. The other types of people. Not you honest. You're special and unique. Just like Uncle Jeremy told you at Christmas as he gently stroked your knee with a little bit too much enthusiasm. That's right. I know. Everyone knows.

So. What was my article about? Oh yes. Online dating. Ahem.

Haha. Well, as many/some/none of you know depending on what day of the week it is, I came out of a long-term relationship a while ago and to be honest have no real interest in getting into a new one right now. Why? You might ask with quivering lips. Well, to be honest I'm incredibly fucking lazy and the idea of getting to know another person and having to actually give a shit about them and all their fucking problems and whether or not they approve of my life choices and fucked-up personality is a little bit more effort than I can stand right now. Plus I've started watching How I Met Your Mother recently and quite frankly I don't want to have to watch it from the beginning cos some girl/bloke/vegetable/marsupial that I'm dating decides that we should start from season 1. I mean. I'm willing to make an effort for a potential soulmate that I might spend the rest of my life with, but as with everything in life, there are limits.

But yes, despite my general satisfaction with remaining single for a variety of reasons I won't go into here, (next article already planned, boom) I decided many months ago to create a dating profile (because I'm original as the rest of you salty bastards) and have a look to see what's going to test the waters for when I can be bothered. So. What did I find. Well, hmm.

Now. I can hear you all thinking at the same time so bear with me a second. You're thinking, "Get over yourself!" or "Stop being so fucking fussy!" or "Why am I reading this shit?" (mind-control..) and to be honest you're right in some regards but it's not honestly because of the basic reasons you'd expect...it's because most of the profiles I've read are quite frankly as BORING as my left nut sack and so full of shite that it honestly just makes me want to strangle the next biped I come across. But why? Huh? HUH!?

Well, to start off with. I get that despite our fantastic age of equality and all that bollocks, men are still expected to make most of the effort by SOME women, especially early on. But for fucks sake at least bother to fill in the "about me" section of your profile. Don't just put a bunch of dots or even worse write "lol, I dunno wot to put ere" and expect to get anything other than a fucking troglodyte respond. Show a bit of your fucking personality. Unless of course you're trying purposefully to advertise that you're an empty-headed shallow fuckwit with absolutely no opinion on anything besides what you've read others repeat on Facebook. In which case, well done.

Equally. For those that actually can muster the powers of their vocabulary and spew forth more than a few words on how shit they are at actually articulating anything past a fucking duckface...I can only suggest that you try to be at least slightly realistic. For example, don't say three fucking words about yourself and how you love Hollyoaks followed by an explanation of how you won't respond to any men who don't make an effort to come up with proper conversation and have something interesting to say. Be realistic. I wouldn't walk up to you and say "mE liKE shIny ROCKS!" while scratching at a nice pile of nearby granite then get all pissed because you don't start quoting Shakespeare in response.

Likewise! Don't set your profile to "looking for fun and nothing serious" and then spend several paragraphs writing about how you're looking for a soulmate and are fed up with getting messages from bastard men who just want sex. I get that most dating sites don't have an "I'm bipolar" option nor provide a big flag to point out that you can't work out the basics of setting up your fucking profile. But either way you're not doing yourself any favours.

Oh and talking about pictures. Try and have some variety for god's sake. Different situations. Different environments, something to perhaps portray what type of person you are. If I see a profile with pics of holidays, backpacking, nights out and a few decent selfies or pics with friends etc, then I can't help but take more of an interest - it just looks a bit more interesting even if it is probably false advertising. Well done you! However, if all 8 shots are of the same fucking aforementioned duckface taken from a slightly elevated angle with different filters then just...just no. Much like the whole "lack of words thing" I mentioned earlier, it kinda makes me wonder what the fuck went wrong in your childhood that turned you into yet another pod person.

Oh and as a final note. When you're describing who you're looking for - I get that being honest is a good thing, but I've nearly spat my coffee all over the screen with utter amusement and tumultuous glee when I see the occasional profile with a very average girl in it explaining how anybody who is not fit as fuck and over 6ft tall shouldn't even bother messaging them. Perhaps it would be equally acceptable if I demanded a fucking supermodel with no gag reflex and huge tits that dispense chocolate milkshake when I twist her nipples. I mean really? What utter bollocks. Besides, if I was superfit, ripped and over 6ft, I wouldn't be on a dating website, I'd be selling that shit to rich housewives and buying all the chocolate milkshake that my superhard man-pecs could buy.

So... Random glimpse into my fantasy of being a male cocoa-whore asides...what else? Well, nothing really. All I can say is that when I am finally ready to start dating, I either need to start socialising like a normal person or failing that, lobotomise myself with a blunt and reasonably heavy object. I'm not entirely sure which one sounds more appealing.

#online dating #dating #lol

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 7 years

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Can there be a positive side to mental-health problems?

Well, it's been about a month...so article-time. WHAM, BLAMMO, straight out the pot etc. Nah. In truth I wasn't sure what to write about as I didn't want to potentially drone on about the fitness or weight-loss routine and I'd prefer to stick to more positive things these days. Unless of course they involve various customers at my workplace getting abused by a hairy Mexican cucumber called Steve. In which case, go ahead. Just take pictures.

So.. Having touched on the issue before of the various mental health issues I've had and still cope with on a day to day basis, I thought I'd actually go against the grain and write about some of the oddly positive effects that I've experienced having lived with clinical depression on and off for most of my adult life as well as psychosis. Now. This might seem a bit odd, obviously most articles touching on mental health deal with the negative effects as well as how to cope with day to day issues and all that shit. But hey, we've read all about those and to be frank most of us have lived with our own mental health issues or most certainly known somebody with them. So something different then.

Where to start? Let's start by saying that what I'm about to write is obviously based on my own experiences and deals with my own philosophy on the subject coupled with my own coping strategies. So it's my perspective. That doesn't mean I'm not unaware of those that have much more crippling mental health problems than I've ever experienced or those that are dealing with them right now and feel like every day is hell. This isn't meant to insult anybody or seem unempathic. It's just my own way of seeing things. Which you're here for I hope. If not. Get out.

So funnily enough, speaking about perspective. That's one of the things that's changed for me quite considerably over the years. I've found that as a result of spending various sections of my life utterly depressed and in some cases, incapable, I've learned to enjoy some of the simple things in life and not to take things too seriously. You could say that I've brainwashed myself to be happy just because I'm not getting repeatedly curb-stomped by life right at this present moment in time, and you'd be partially correct. But the interesting side-effect is that when shit happens, both mild (some idiot just pushed me out the way) or the more severe (getting cancer) you find yourself able to cope with it more. Now, obviously some of this can always be attributed to life experience and growing up. But part of those experiences for me have been getting utterly shat on at various points in my life by both body and mind and funnily enough, they've helped me to adapt and grow. Also, while I still wish for better things in life, I realised that breaking your soul over the life you think you should be living is a pointless waste of the life you actually are living. By all means, change what you can and improve, but don't fret over things that are never going to happen or simply out of reach. It's a waste of mental energy and serves no purpose whatsoever other than to bring you down and make you even less capable of doing what you need to do to survive.

Second thing I've noticed that's improved is empathy and my general understanding of other people. It's a weird one. Because when your mind's hit the floor and you've spent some serious time considering whether or not life's actually worth living and if you'll ever be able to hold down a job again or even manage to walk out your front door, you find yourself suddenly not hating other people so much for their weaknesses and failings. Sure. The ignorant as shit chav scumbag you have to serve at work who doesn't know even basic manners would be a much more productive member of society if somebody turned him into glue or fed him to a horde of ravenous gerbils...but part of me can't help but think "Fuck. What type of life has that guy had to become such an utter shitstain?" Okay. Maybe I'm confusing empathy with something else but you get where I'm coming from.

"No. No we don't." - Everyone

Fine. In short. People are all flawed. None of us are perfect and now I've come to terms with what an imperfect and occasionally cuntish person I can be, I've finally realised that the key to happiness is to simply not expect other people to live up to our expectations of what they should be, but to accept them for the lying, hypocritical and beautifully flawed human meatbags that they really are.

Basically every Disney movie ever.

"Too much Dij, too much." - Brain

So yeah. Empathy covered. What else?

Oh yeah. Now this one's a bit personal to me and involves my psychosis I had several years back that had me experiencing complete delusions, visual hallucinations, a general inability to do anything and an overwhelming constant state of near suicidal misery that lasted for the best part of several months. Oh and of course, the biggest part - the auditory hallucinations. Aka, voices in my head besides my own.

To explain how ANY of this could have a positive effect, I should explain that in general, the lack of really living at the time as well as the utter lack of joy and lack of interest in ANYTHING coupled with a confusion about my own existence does tie in with the first point. Perspective. So yeah, living in such shit times obviously helps you appreciate what it's like to have your mind working normally. Or relatively normal enough that you can function.

But the main issue is the voices. Now, before explaining, I should explain what they are and what they were like in the beginning. Well, they were the first noticable part of the psychosis that I really remember. I don't actually remember the initial delusions, or the confusion, but I always remember the voices. I remember how at the moment of breakdown, I suddenly heard friends, family members, all suddenly talking to me as loud as if they were in the room. All conversing with each other and with me. Some of them explaining the situation I was in, some trying to convince me that I was dead, others telling me they hated me and wished for my suffering. Suffice to say. It was a bit of a headfuck.

Would. Not. Recommend.

Now, without rambling on, these voices stayed strong for, well, years. Even when I started my current job and despite the anti-psychotics, I struggled with voices, delusional thoughts and fantasy day-dreaming merging with reality. But I managed. And through coping strategies, I got better at managing them. Finally, I got off the meds and if anything, my thinking has never been clearer. But here's the thing I generally don't mention too often for fear of making people uncomfortable. But sod it, I'll just say it because it's kinda necessary to make my point... The voices and delusions never totally went away.

Now, the delusions. They still waft into my thoughts. But I cope. I ignore them. I'm firmly enough invested in "this reality" enough so that I discourage or ignore the idea that the universe might be different somewhere and somehow. They're not overly beneficial, perhaps they make me more imaginative even when it's not necessarily appropriate but hey ho.

The voices however. Now this is where from my perspective, things have taken an odd turn. Of course, the negative personalities that seem to gain utter joy from my occasional bad fortune and actively wish me harm and indeed sometimes will it with all their strength are still there, but I've learned to ignore them so much over the years that now it's second nature. As for the positive side? Well, I remember before the psychosis, I used to think my way through problems or life in general by doing just that. Thinking about it. Weighing up pros and cons, looking at the various outcomes and deciding what seems best at the time. Same shit no doubt that everybody does. Now though, I do all that but the different voices (or personalities would perhaps be more apt) chime in and give me their perspectives on the matter and actually discuss whatever's on my mind. With occasional input from me of course. Of course, occasionally they talk utter shite for their own amusement but to be fair, who doesn't?

Before I finish I should point out that of course I'm aware they're just different aspects of my subconcious. Not demons. Or spirits. But, to be honest, who cares? They come in useful and seem to help for the most part. Weirdly enough from my own musings, they occasionally point out things and even ideas or viewpoints that I hadn't or wouldn't have normally been consciously aware of - difficult to explain, because of course, as soon as an idea pops into your head, you're aware of it, but this is different to that. It's hard to describe, same mechanism probably, but a different way of delivery. Suffice to say, it's quite different to thinking to yourself and having something occur to you. But it's a positive, so what's not to like?

Either way. Perhaps the greatest ability I've learned from all of my experiences so far is to follow the constant advice of many grandparents everywhere and simply try to always look on the bright side of life. It doesn't mean you can't be cynical, or angry, or even hateful...but it's how quickly you turn it around or turn a shit situation into a manageable situation in your own head. Because at the end of the day. That's where it counts. Not how somebody else feels about something, or how they manage something, but about how you manage to live with something. You won't always succeed at fixing your head when something goes wrong, but try your damndest anyway and refuse to let the universe win. That way you can't kick yourself too hard in the balls if and when you mess up.

So anyway. Hope you've enjoyed reading my somewhat self-indulgent post. To be totally honest, writing about it for others to read (judge/hate/lambast/poo self laughing at) has been kind of relaxing. Who knows? Maybe I am a people person. I'll have to dig one out the freezer and find out.

#hahajustkiddinghonest macaroni toohonest? ramblingnonsenseagain

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 7 years

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Working in Retail. Fun. Yes?

Quivering. I put my head over the rubble to check for signs of enemy activity. The smell of baked flesh wafted across the battlefield, permeating the nostrils with its acrid scent. Realising the futility of the situation, I took one final last gasp and allowed myself to think of happier times in life before I hauled myself up into the fray and prepared for the onslaught that awaited me.

"Bottle of vodka and 20 Lamberts mate."

Beep.

"Sun and a chocolate bar."

Beep.

"Your head on a spike and a cup of your shitty coffee PLEASE."

Beep.

Yes. Sadly. I am one of those damned, the lost, the forgotten...the poor fucker who has to work in retail - or to be more specific in my case, a small corner shop (literally, the fucking thing's even on a corner...) where the locals are FAR too local and most of our trade is in cigarettes and cheap meth. Sorry, sorry, I mean Frosty Jacks. Not that you'd know the fucking difference because both are for tramps.

So, working in this valuable cornerstone of our society. I have realised several key features of working in the industry that make the job...well, quite frankly a little bit shite sometimes. So here you go. Another lazy "list article" because why the hell not?

People who don't know how to use the shop properly.

Right. Simple one this. What are the basics of using a shop? Well, I was always taught to grab my stuff, have my money ready and then pay the cashier with minimum fuss before getting the hell out of there. Simple right? Well...apparently not. Quite a few of the customers in my store seem to vary in their idea of how to shop. I love the classic myself - where they rush to beat other people to the queue, throw a few things down which I scan and then they say "Ohhh, I've forgotten a few things!" before they charge off around the shop for 5 minutes hoping I'll hold their place in the queue.

Which I do sometimes. Depending on how much I dislike the look of the other people waiting. What’s life without whimsy?

Equally. Running in from outside and trying to push in front of the queue because you have a taxi waiting/are in a rush/have friends waiting on you/have aids and will die in the next 5 minutes ARE NOT valid reasons for me to tell every other poor fucker in the queue to go and wait while I serve your entitled little ass first. Get to the back of the line fucker.

Last but not least. Have your fucking money ready. Don't wait for me to patiently scan all your shit in, bag it, total it up and then stand there with a dumbfounded "Oh...I have to pay for this shit?" look on your face before your spend ten minutes trying to pay the exact amount in small change and lint. Because if you do that, I will daydream for at least 10 seconds about ripping your arms off and feeding them to you through your anus.

Becoming free childcare.

We get it. You want to go the pub and the only way to keep the kids entertained is to throw them a fiver, tell them to fuck off to the shop for half an hour and hope they don't manage to piss pure sugar over your new burberry top from all the 10p chewbars that they buy...individually. One after an other...because realising that two 10p chew bars equals 20p is apparently too complicated for the average 12 year old to figure out.

Scratch that. Change the title to "Teach your kids basic mathematics for the love of God please."

Oh and manners would be nice too. Not that I don't enjoy having small dumb illiterate children treat me like I'm shit under their shoe. I mean, next to getting molested by a clown, that's way up there on my "happy day" accomplishments.

You realise that a significant section of society still consider washing to be a luxury they can't afford.

Who'd have thought soap was so fucking expensive right? I mean, with all the smelly fuckers coming in, it must be expensive. Oh wait. It's not. They're just lazy scumbags.

Buuuut. You know what's worse than a bad smell? A bad smell that you can kinda identify in between the retches that leaves you puzzling for hours as to what ungodly combination could create such a stink. One particular "lady" who enters our shop has a discerning odour that seems to be something between mildly smoked haddock on a hot day mixed in with cookie caramel milkshake that's just gone slightly off with a bit of added bacon grease.

Yeah. This job can be grim sometimes.

The key to the universe is in the backroom.

So yeah. One thing I learned years ago is that in retail, everyone assumes the backroom is some huge fucking warehouse that holds everything times a thousand including the lost souls of the damned. Which is partially true when I'm on a lunchbreak. But please people, stop assuming that when I tell you we're out of stock, that it might be in "the backroom". Because 9 times out of 10 it isn't and all that happens when you ask me to check is I go into the back, scratch my arse a bit for good measure before doing my special little dance that I perform when I'm supposed to be doing work before coming out with a VERY sad look on my face as I explain to you that "No, we don't have any....SORRryyyyyRYRYYYyyyy" while simultaneously thinking about whether or not I could store your severed head on the soft drinks shelving unit AND whether or not your aforementioned head should be facing me as it gazes into the abyss. I mean, do I WANT to make eye contact with you while I make coffee in the morning? Idontthinkso.com

People who like to shop 1 minute before we're about to close.

I hate you. I literally hate you all. If you cheerfully say "Ho ho, I bet you're wanting to go home rather than serve me!" then I won't just hate you. I'll purposefully go out of my way to find out where you live and hurl live trained suicidal robot gophers through your windows and stand outside in the cold moonlight touching myself inappropriately while my cyber buddies gnaw on your limbs and detach your penis with their laser eyes while you sleep.

Oh but when you arrive 1 minute after we've closed and bang on the door shouting "MAteeeee, I need rizlas/electricity/beer/ciggies" then I will feel happy and content as I explain "Sorry, we're closed!" while chortling to my colleague and inhaling your sweet yet every so slightly salty tears.

Dealing with legitimately fucking crazy people.

As any of you who know me in person realise, I myself went batshit insane a few years back when I had a full-blown psychosis that I've mostly recovered from asides from the occasional voices, hallucinations, need to eat raw meat once a week and constant belief that everybody around me is a figment of my imagination and that I am in fact suspended in some kind of simulation of which the only purpose is to poke me with sharp sticks until I either murder everybody or go for the exit node and hope for a decent respawn..

Anyway...where was I? Oh yes. Crazyness. Well, having a reasonable idea of what that's like...I recognise genuine crazy in others. Not pissed up drunks, or aggressive short men, or any of that shit...but genuine "serious mental-problem" crazy and to be honest, this varies massively depending on the person. We have the irritating delusional sorts who are convinced that they're Neil Armstrong. To the quiet ones you notice talking to themselves who seem to take it "just a little bit too personally" when you accidentally grab them blue rizla instead of green. Either way, there's a lot of crazy people out there and I can swear it's a lot worse than when I first started in this type of job over 15 years ago.

You rapidly start to lose your faith in humanity.

Now. Granted, it wasn't very high to begin with. Even as a small child, I had the general realisation pummeled into me that plenty of people are utter cunts and the rest are people that generally pretend not to be cunts, and then cuntify you for good measure. But yes, sadly working in retail has its own little ways of dragging down your human spirit, beating it to death with a piss-soaked chain of wrath and then bringing it back to life just so that it can be sodomized a little bit more.

Of course these encounters range in intensity. From the low end of the scale scumbag who gives you the "I'll fucking murder you" eyes while slamming down their money to the mid-level angry alcoholics that threaten to disembowel you and your family for denying them their 7am bottle of rotgut. But sometimes it's not the obvious crazy shit that gets you down. It's the little things. Like seeing the teary-eyed drugged up girl with her abusive boyfriend, putting up with his shit because she has no idea of how to get herself out of that situation. Or the kid who asks his mum politely for a carton of juice because he's thirsty, before being told "NO I CAN'T FUCKING AFFORD IT"....5 seconds before the greasy-haired bitch comes to the counter and orders 40 cigarettes, a half bottle of vodka and about 20 quids worth of scratchcards. It's just little things like that, when you see the shittier sides of humanity that you really start to just wonder if the best thing would be if the sun exploded or something.

So yes. If you're considering a career in retail and value your sanity. Well, do it anyway, it'll either break you or make you stronger. Or it’ll make you like me. And you don't want that. No. You really don't. Run dammit. Run. Before I smear you in green paint and spank you like a disobedient avocado.

#retail workinginretail retailhell imokayhonest ididadegreeforthis? itsnothatbadhonest merryfuckingchristmas!

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 7 years

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10 things I’ve noticed about losing weight and exercising!

So it’s official. I’ve hit a pretty big milestone this week. 56lbs lost since February! Which is a massive 4 stone! Woo me. Add to the fact that most of that has actually been lost in the last 6 months since my breakup and I’m even happier. The only downside is that I’m about halfway to my goal - so another 4 stone to go!

Anyway, rambling aside... 4 stone of weight is a pretty large amount and I’ve noticed several difference in various areas of my life since losing the weight and improving my fitness. So in a lazy “let’s throw any old shit together” attempt at an article. Here goes my top 10 list of.... “Things that change when you lose weight.”

1/ You feel the cold more.

Seriously. Not even fucking joking here. I’ve always been that guy that spends most of winter in a t-shirt laughing as people walk past me in a bemused fashion going “Oh you must be cold” while I shake my head, rip icicles off my nipples and urinate on their cat to show just how “not cold” I am.

But now. Fuck me. I’m cold all the time! I actually had to buy fucking winter clothes. WINTER CLOTHES. I mean...shirts with long sleeves made out of lambs wool and testicles. (maybe not the last part) Either way. If it gets much worse I’m moving to somewhere warmer. Like the sun.

2/ More energy, more drive and a general increase in confidence.

Shocking right? But yeah. Everything feels easier, better, more relaxed and just generally...more. Hard to explain really. But I honestly feel better than I’ve felt in months. Even several blond naked midgets dipped in honey and laid out for me in a display of transhuman fetishism couldn’t make me happier.

Possibly.

3/ You get cranky when you miss an exercise session.

For me. My exercise sessions are 2 hour (okay, hour and a half now I’m quicker) walks all over my local area up and down big hills where I get to shoulder-barge old grannies and single mums with prams out the way because they’re all so FUCKING SLOW.

Ahem. Where was I? Oh yes, anyway....before the lifestyle change, I didn’t mind walking...but the idea of going on a long walk like that would have been pretty low on my list of “shit to do” because there were more important things in life that demanded my attention. Ya’know. Like sleeping. Eating. Sleeping a bit more. Having a snack and then possibly a nap. But now on the rare occasions where I’ve missed a session due to work or injury, I’ve noticed I feel really, really, really, REALLY down and pissed off for like the entire frigging day. Who’d have thought?

4/ People are much nicer.

Okay. Bit baitish this one but it has to be said...people do seem to be nicer, more pleasant and generally more open since I’ve lost weight. I’m not necessarily saying it’s a superficial thing because I get it - I haven’t just lost weight, I’ve cheered the fuck up and started being more useful which is a good thing and 90% of the people I actually know haven’t changed their attitude towards me much from when I weighed the same amount as a small tank. But it’s interesting to notice how randoms - like some customers who previously treated me almost with contempt - are now all smiles and actually trying to make small-talk. Funny world.

5/ Eating shit food suddenly doesn’t feel so good.

So obviously in the last year I’ve had a few naughty days and even the occasional naughty week. But it’s interesting how my “naughty days” have changed. A few months ago, I had a rare hangover and spent the next day CRAVING the mightyness that comes from a traditional English breakfast. I mean, I was frigging obsessing over the bacon, the hash browns, the sausages...so I drove to the supermarket, grabbed the shit required like a crazed meth addict getting his hit and proceeded to cook the HELL out of it. And...I finally came to eat it and....threw over half of it in the bin.

Was I full? Not particularly. Was the food bad? No. Decent quality stuff. So what was wrong? Well, honestly...I just wasn’t enjoying it as much as I thought I would. After months of eating fish, chicken, rice n veg....suddenly, eating shit didn’t feel so good. Who’d have known.

So now when I have a treat day, I stick with my favourites, fajitas, steak and eggs, even occasionally a burger - but I make the burger from scratch myself and oven cook it. It seems that your taste in food can actually change. Weird right?

6/ Clothes shopping actually becoming fun.

Yes I know I’m a man. No I shouldn’t enjoy clothes shopping. Yes you can have one of my man cards. But I want it back, preferably sprayed with a hint of cinnamon and a dash of elderberry.

Fuck it. Just keep it.

So where was I? Oh right, clothes shopping. So yeah, basically, before I used to go shopping and looked for clothes that roughly had the same dimensions and fashion-appeal of a family-sized tent. Now, I can actually shop for clothes that look nice and make me feel decent. And shock horror...I like it!

Though in all fairness I am one of those weird people that likes shopping. I even like supermarket shopping. That’s right. You come to the supermarket with me and I WILL spend at least 5 minutes looking at all the different packs of bacon while cooing at the firm meaty goodness.

Not gay honest.

7/ You brace yourself when somebody asks “how have you lost so much weight?”

Not because I’m a cunt. I honestly will happily tell anybody how I'm working on it. But the simple fact is that the answer is boring and as soon as I tell somebody that I basically started eating less and exercising every other day...I can actually see the boredom in their eyes. No, I didn’t use a magic pill, yes it can be hard work, no it’s not exciting.

I think in future I should just start telling people that I ate nothing but dried whale semen and chanted to the blood God in Hebrew every night for exactly 6.4 minutes instead.

8/ People start telling you to stop losing weight.

People are honestly quite lovely for the most part. (no they’re not, they’re utter cunts - inner brain) Ignore him, they’re fine. Anyway, so yeah, people are lovely and many have taken an interest in my weight loss - but a few people have started to tell me I’ve lost enough weight and don’t need to lose anymore.

Which is just silly.

I could understand if I’d reached an anorexic 5 stone and survived on lemongrass and water. But I’m only just under 17 stone! I need to lose more dammit!

But nonetheless. Nice compliment!

9/ Your perspective changes.

Not in an overly deep way. But I now feel more confident about the future, what lies ahead, what I’m doing now. Everything in general seems to have taken a positive step in my head and less seems to bother me now. Whether it’s being asked to clean up jizz stains on the milk fridge at work, (joking, it’s just milk, I think...) putting up with customers trying to pay for £40 worth of shite with pennies while simultaneously trying to dryhump the counter or even listening to one crazy regular talk about how he’s a legal expert, medical expert, and apparently bumfucking the president of the Phillipines...this stuff does not seem to be winding me up like it used to.

Either that or it’s all silently building up in my head till I inevitably go on a killing spree outside my workplace with a machine gun while masturbating like a frenzied chimpanzee on heat.

Scratch that. That was inappropriate. Make it a flamethrower. The machinegun would be too quick.

10/ You fart more.

I mean. Might as well end it on an elegant note right? Much like the elegant notes that come out my backside. I mean, SERIOUSLY! If I wanted to kill all my work colleagues, friends and customers I’d think of a much more original and interesting plan that simply gassing them all into smelly oblivion.

Not that I’ve thought about killing them of course. Well. Perhaps just a few of them. But in all fairness, the fantasy usually ends up with them stuffed, embalmed and propped up in my living room watching TV with me so hey, happy endings right?

Right?

#weightloss top10weightlosstips imastrangeman whowantstotouchme? coffeetime

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 7 years

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Overwatch Competitive

So. Been playing Overwatch on and off for a few months now and it’s a fantastic game. Utterly full of variety, easy to pick up, hard to master and it brings out the competitive side which is always a good thing. Anyway, I decided - after avoiding competitive mode for a while - to give it a proper shot and well, I’ve come to a few base conclusions, So in no particular order, here they are!

1/ Teamwork is king.

You can be the best solo player for pure DPS, healing, or just generally having a bag full of nasty tactics that make the other team hate you by the end of the match. But it doesn’t matter if your team doesn’t stick together or just full on sucks. Which brings us to...

2/ Awful, awful, awful players are attracted to competitive like flies on shit.

I personally decided to get half decent at the game with a few characters before heading into competitive play. That way I’m generally doing a decent amount of damage or healing, have figured out the basics of teamwork, realised that the objective is king and have learned the maps well so I know all the shortcuts and where most of the medpacks are.

Other players do not do this it seems. So expect to see loads of noobish mistakes being made, like players trying to take on the entire enemy 6-man team by themselves (and then dying horribly approximately 0.5 seconds later) to Zenyattas that don’t ever use healing orbs or just the usual defence scenario where you realise your entire team has completely split up and abandoned the defence post only to get picked off one by one like incompetent tic tacs. It get frustrating pretty quickly.

3/ Support your healer!

In all fairness, any team worth their weight in salt will quickly identify and attempt to eliminate the enemy healer, especially if that healer is actually making a difference. But equally, if you’re on a team and see your healer getting attacked, it’s generally a good idea to try and protect them. But the painful reality is that 90% of players take the attitude of “Our healer’s getting shot...oh well, fuck em. Time to run in the opposite direction.” For extra irritation, you can almost guarantee that the very same cunt who leaves you to die will then be spamming the HEAL ME! emote like a fucktard about 10 seconds after you’ve died and are no longer able to save their cheap arse.

4/ If you’re going to tank. Use some common sense.

Why? Because not all, but some of the tanks players in the game seem to take on the attitude that they can withstand hellfire itself...and then they die. So they run in...and die...and run in....and die. As a tank, yes you are strong, but if you peg it away from your team or don’t wait for a healer, then the chances are that you’re going to be about as useful as a cock-flavoured lollipop.

which brings us to...

5/ Support your fucking tank!

I know. I know. Almost obvious. But while your tank is absorbing damage like a motherfucker, use that time to perhaps kill the enemy team! Rather than run off or generally fuck around doing very little of actual use. This goes threefold for fuckwits who run past Reindharts shield and then wonder why they’re dead 2 seconds later.

6/ Don’t play snipers if you can’t hit a fucking barn door from 2 meters away.

This is why I only play snipers in quickplay. Because while I’m not awful, I’m not overly good either. Sadly, the amount of awful fucking snipers about is unbelievable. Actually, I should just change this one to “Dont play classes you’re shit at in competitive play” but I’ve started now and hence shall finish. But yeah seriously, if you’re crap with the more intermediate to advanced characters like Tracer, Genji, Widowmaker, Hanzo, Zenyatta or Symettra...then just don’t bother. You’re not only fucking up your own chances of winning but you’re letting the team down. Leave that shit to quickplay, git good first and then bring your game to competitive.

7/ Don’t get frustrated when you’re in a PUG vs a premade. You will lose.

Competitive tends to bring out the premade teams who strategise and communicate constantly over the mic. They almost always stick together, they actually use tactics and they will use their ultimate abilities in unison within 1 second of each other to utterly bumrape the opposing team. Or in this case. You.

Sadly, if you’re in a pickup group with players that don’t talk over the mic, don’t know each other and are most likely to tell you to fuck off if you try hatching a plan...then, don’t expect to survive against a premade. I have been in a few PUGS with some AMAZINGLY skilled players that just about held their own against an obvious premade, but that doesn’t happen very often.

In short though. Don’t lose your shit over it when your entire team gets steamrolled and the match is lost in less than 2 minutes. It happens, it sucks, but it’s a good way to learn. Also, it’s good to feel the fear now and again!

8/ People leaving will make you want to quit competitive.

Interestingly enough, I haven’t noticed anywhere near the amount of quitting in quickplay as there is in competitive...which is kinda weird considering there’s a penalty for leaving competitive. But yeah, sometimes you’ll be right near the end of a losing match and somebody quits...no big deal. Quite often though, you’ll be five minutes in, perhaps struggling a bit against the other team and somebody will throw in the towel and doom the rest of your team. I’ve even seen it happen a fair few times where somebody quits in the first minute of the game starting...and then the game boots everybody and you get chucked to the main menu. Kinda irritating when you’ve spent 2 minutes searching for a game and another 2-3 minutes loading up the map, choosing characters and getting ready for the doors to open.

9/ Be prepared for long matches.

Sounds silly because an average quickplay match last about 10 minutes or so...but I’ve played competitive matches that have gone on for over half an hour. Usually only happens when one team wins the first two rounds....and then the other team plays and wins the following three rounds. But yeah, 5 rounds for one match. Makes for some epic games though and a nice chunk of XP when you’ve finished.

10/ Teamwork! Lol. Kidding...but no seriously.

No I couldn’t think of a tenth point! Haha. But yeah. Teamwork. Stick together and you will win more matches. Go your own way like a special snowflake and well, get used to seeing the inside of your spawn point...as you die, again, and again and againnnnnnnnnnnnn!

As a final point....if you hear Genji from the enemy team activating his ultimate. Look up, look behind you...just fucking look everywhere and prepare to mow the fucker down as QUICKLY as possible. Because if he gets into the middle of your team with his swords, you’re probably looking at half your team dead in 2 seconds - or even a team wipe if the Genji player is particularly skilled.

Oh and don’t forget to teabag your fallen foes now and again. It’s just good manners and doesn’t lead to enemy players leaving the objective to personally hunt you down in a pure ragegasm. Honest.

#overwatch overwatchcompetitive highnoonhasgivenmeptsd

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 7 years

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Elections. Opinions and being offended.

So as we all know, 2016 has been an interesting year. Asides from a multitude of popular celebrities getting murdered by the grim reaper, we’ve also had the Brexit and now, Trump winning the presidency of the USA. Holy shit right? What a year indeed.

Now, before I go any further I’m going to demonise myself and no doubt lose half my Facebook friendbase by admitting that I voted Leave earlier this year. Now. According to most people on Facebook, this means that I’m a dirty racist, muslim-hating, xenophobic piece of trash that has utterly fucked the country’s future and thrown our economy to the wind.

The truth of course is that I don’t give two fucks about skin-colour. I judge a person generally by how they treat me and how they treat others. Equally, I’ll admit I’m not a fan of organised religion in general, and that does include Islam. However, equally for the most part I really don’t give a shit if I’m being completely honest. Praise or worship whoever the fuck you like. Just don’t shove your religion in my face or I will chew it up and spit it back at you in small God/Allah-sized pieces. Good? Good.

As for the economy etc. Well, I’ll be the first to admit I’m not an economist. Neither is 99% of the country. (and no, quoting memes on Facebook doesn’t mean that you’re more informed or educated) However from what little I do know, I have a strong belief that this country is more than capable of creating trade with other countries without necessarily having those countries tell us how to run our shit. Which is the main reason I voted Leave.

“Why?” You might ask. As you dab the single tear dribbling down your cheek. Well. Because while I’m not unfamiliar with the fact that our own elected scumbags in charge are pretty much unaccountable for their actions and do what the fuck they like, I’m even more uncomfortable with a group of equally morose motherfuckers from another country with even less interest having power over us to further their own ends.

As for immigration, that does weigh in to a degree but I’ve no problem with genuine migrants being helped. What I do have a problem with is people travelling through 10 perfectly safe countries just to get to Great Britain and then making out that they’re desperate. If you were desperate you would have welcomed the first fucking port in a storm. No ifs, no buts. If I had my arse shot off and my home blown to crap...I wouldn’t come across help only to say “No thanks, I know you’re offering help, but I’ve got better options.” At that point, you stop being a desperate immigrant fearful of your own survival and become an economic migrant. Simple as that.

Anyway, having “excused myself” for my opinion, what about Trump? Well, personally, to a large degree, I wasn’t overly won over by either of the candidates, as they both have massive political and personal failings, but ultimately, if I’m being honest, despite his MANY unlikeable traits, I’d have to say I’d prefer Trump. He comes across as petty and a misogynist...but compared to the Mafiosa, lying and possibly criminal Clinton who seemed hell-bent on sending everyone into WW3 with the Russians...I can’t help but think that he’s the best choice out of two fucked up apples. Time will tell.

So what’s struck out most about Brexit and the Trump win? Well. First off. If you admit to voting to anything that isn’t Remain or Clinton, you will automatically be labelled as either a scumbag, racist or just plain stupid by a reasonable proportion of people you know. Which is kind of sad to be honest. It eliminates discussion or debate on the merit of being able to say “I’m enlightened, I know more than you, I’m not a racist, therefore I’m right and there is no more to discuss.” Usually followed up by “lol ur hitler!”.

The funny thing is. I actually know some of these people who paint such an idyllic picture of themselves and the truth of their actions and opinions over the years paints a slightly different image. One person, who on Facebook is as left and loving as you could possibly want to be has previously admitted to me that he thinks everyone who hasn’t achieved anything spectacular in their lives should be taken away and executed on their 30th Birthday much like Logan’s Run! Another used to like killing small animals for fun. Another spent most of her life getting coked out of her mind and stealing when she had the chance. One in particular pretty much fucking hates everybody and goes out their way to upset and belittle others for “the lolz”. The list goes on. Now. I’m nowhere near fucking perfect and in all seriousness, am probably more fucked in the head than most people I know despite my own mask. But I can’t help but laugh. Maybe because I’m aware I’m far from fucking perfect myself but equally hypocrisy and chaos generally amuse the shit out of me.

Interestingly enough this does raise the issue of whether or not people are as honest about their poltical and personal affiliations as they make out. I mean, Trump won. That honestly surprised me. Going by both conventional media and social media, you’d have thought that Clinton was guaranteed. So what the fuck happened? I can only guess that what people were saying on Facebook didn’t necessarily equate to how they voted.

So at the end of a long rambling rant. What have we learned? Well. First off, if you know that one of your friends on Facebook supported somebody you dislike, then feel free to debate them if you care enough but for the love of God, try to avoid calling them everything under the sun and blocking them for just having a different opinion. I mean, if you can’t see the irony of being against hate while spewing it yourself, then I don’t even know what the fuck to say.

I’ve read recently about friendships and even families breaking down in the last few days over differences of opinion and really? I mean, fucking really? Is it worth losing friends over a situation that ultimately won’t really affect you? “But it will!” you cry. No it fucking won’t. The sun will still come up in the morning, you’ll still spend all week at work and all weekend getting fucked up and hopefully fucking but for the most part, this shit isn’t going to change your lives. There are always going to be people that hate you because you’re a man, or a women, or black, or white or believe in magic sky fairies. Stop giving such a fuck and worry about the real problems in your lives that actually DO make a difference to your way of living and start changing those instead of demonising people for having a fucking opinion.

#rant #trump2016 #brexit #hashtagssuck #79friendsthismorning #howmanythisevening? #lol

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 8 years

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Exercise Essentials

So I decided to post my previous blog on facebook last night and I rapidly realised that although I covered a fair bit, there were a few pretty important elements to my diet/routine that I'd missed out. So quickly, here they all are.

1/ Sugar. It's the enemy. Kill it with fire. Then murder it again for good measure.

Obviously I was forced into cutting sugar almost entirely from my diet with the exception of that found naturally in veg/fruit etc due to my diagnosis of type 2 diabetes. Now. While my cut was kinda extreme (but necessary) I'm at least partially convinced that it's helped me with my diet and energy levels. In fact having read up on the whole sugar thing during the last few months, I've come across plenty of articles with supporting medical theories that suggests a shift in a way of thinking recently regarding diets - namely that the "original" dieting method of low fat, and high carbs is utterly fucked and to blame for a massive outbreak of diabetes and that in fact, it's healthier to cut out refined carbs as much as possible and instead get your calories from lean sources of protein like meat and fish supported by healthy veggies to fill you up. Obviously some carbs are required and for me that generally involves a half cup of white rice with my food. Now yes...I know. Brown rice is better for you. But it takes a bumtastic amount of time to cook and personally I think it tastes like dried dog shite. Not that I know what dried dog shite tastes like. Honest.

2/ Calorie counting. It's a good thing. I use http://www.myfitnesspal.com/

Maybe an obvious one. But I found this to be helpful. By adding weight, target weight etc and then logging your food everyday, you get a reasonably accurate calorie intake for your day and can see whether or not you're below your allotted calorie allowance. Now, to start off with this is a bit boring, but after a bit it becomes part of the "lifestyle" routine and if you're like me, you'll get fidgetty and irritated if you don't log that extra banana you shoved in your gob for food measure.

That sounds a bit wrong.

But yeah. It gets kinda addictive and from my personal experience, helps to keep you on track. Plus on the days you do go over your allowance, you get a nice big red mark to tell you how annoyed your computer is with you and how much you fail as a human being.

Good stuff.

3/ Vitamins and supplements etc.

Now okay. I know this sounds a bit like memescience and there's a lot of people who say this shit is unnecessary if you eat correctly. But I've personally been taking the following for months and could swear it's helped. Either that or I'm swayed by pretty containers and like washing down pills like a junkie needing his fix.

Vitamin D. High potency of 10,000ius. Apparently in the UK, most of us suffer from a deficiency of Vitamin D as it's mostly only soaked into the skin by sunlight. Seeing as how 300+ days of the year are filled with acidic rain and suicidal squirrels, you can see how this is a problem. Anyway, this stuff (technical term!) apparently improves a lot of things from improving your bodies immune system, to helping with depression to even BANG helping with weight loss. So if you take just one thing. Take this.

Multivitamin. Just because I might not be getting enough Molybdenum in my system. And as we all know, that stuff is "the shit".

Zinc 50mg. Zinc helps improve libido, fights diabetes, maintains hormone levels and fights cancer with sharp sticks. It's pretty decent and another one like Vitamin D that apparently most people are deficient in.

Omega 3 Fish Oil 1000mg. Once again, helps with depression, joint health, skin problems, weight loss and increased energy.

And a healthy mention goes to a new supplement that I'm starting just this week:

Magnesium 400mg. Apparently helps with anxiety and nerves, insomnia, increases energy, prevents migraines, aids in digestion and helps to regulate calcium, potassium and sodium levels in your blood. No personal experience obviously but everything I've been reading about this suggests it's another very decent supplement to take so until I find it's got the unforseen side-effect of making me poo myself to death, I'm gonna give it a shot.

4/ Have a treat day once a week.

Various sources online have suggested that when you're on a low-calorie diet, it's actually good for both your physical and mental well-bring to have a treat day once a week where you up your calories. Reason why? Well, from a mental point of view, that once a week is something to look forward especially when the diet does have its hard days (happens occasionally) and from a physical side, according to those in "the know" it's good to confuse your metabolism once a week by occasionally surprising it with a decent calorie load to stop yourself going into the not very technical description of starvation mode that your body can drop into when you start cutting your calories. So a treatday once a week might actually make you lose more weight because your body isn't entirely convinced that it's about to die from a serious lack of McDonalds.

I might add, my treatday generally involves technically breaking my "no bread" rule by having fajitas made from tortillas, chicken, peppers and onions - the calorie amount for that meal comes up to about 1700 calories, which brings me up to about 2000+ with soup and porridge. It's a lot more than I normally have but not excessive and if I exercise on the same day I still drop below my allowed calories. This has worked for me. On the other hand, I've read plenty of reports online of people utterly binging on a treat day with sweets, icecream and all manner of shit that brings their calories to 5000+ and that's when you fuck up your entire week. Treatday means a treat, not a fucking last meal before they shoot your bollocks off and then saute them for good measure.

That being said, I have had the occasional naughty treatmeal such as an entire pizza to myself that took me over my calories into the 3000+ range and hey ho, I survived and still lost weight that week, but I wouldn't recommend it on a regular basis!

5/ Start doing weights.

This one I've only started doing recently and I'm kinda kicking myself for not starting it months ago properly when I started the whole diet routine. Lifting weights apparently aids weight loss by building muscle that requires more calories to maintain and it also aids testosterone production for men as well as firing up your metabolism. Also, even in the last two weeks I've noticed I can heft around heavier shit at work with a bit more ease. So yeah, recommend you start this early on unlike myself. Bad Mustard.

6/ Read this - http://liamrosen.com/fitness.html

It's a sticky from the /fit/ section of 4chan. Yes I know, 4chan is generally known for it's infamous /b/ section with all the wonderful pictures of dead people being ear-raped by horny giraffes wearing skirts, but the /fit/ section in general is quite interesting and can make for an entertaining browse. The FAQ that I've posted in particular is actually very good, very educational, straight to the point and brutally honest in some areas. It's also quite motivational. Go read now. Go read. Now dance. Dance like Mr Hairy Chicken. Good. This pleases me.

7/ Cut out bread.

Like I said, I have tortillas generally once a week on my treatday and that's fine. I still lose minimum of 2lbs a week, sometimes upto 4+. But when I first haphazardly started my diet earlier in the year, I was doing pretty much what I do now, except having bread with soup and toast for breakfast instead of porridge and not only did it take a long time for the losses to kick in, but I felt a lot more wearier than I do now. Perhaps losing the weariness is generally down to a multitude of reasons, but I'm reasonably convinced that bread didn't help to start off with. If anything, having two slices with my soup added a minimum of 200 calories a day. So that's 2000 every 10 days or 6000+ every month. That's nearly 2lbs of extra weight a month. And that's just having it with soup. Add another 2 slices a day for toast in the morning and you're talking an extra 4lbs of weight a month. And that doesn't take into account the butter/marg/peanut butter/jam that you'll probably want to liberally spread over it.

So yeah, I think that's covered the shit I missed in the original article. Keep in mind that all of this is from my own personal perspective as well as what I've researched online. It's not overly scientific, but then who the fuck wants to read that? Apart from scientists. Who may currently be planning to atomise me for mocking them.

In which case. Go ahead. But aim for the man tits first will ya? They're annoying and are confusing my expectations of boobs having hair on them.

(too much Dij, too much...)

#fuckmeanotherone? #weightloss2 #idonthavehairynippleshonest #sharingiscaringright? #foreveralone

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 8 years

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Weight Loss

So as promised, I’ve decided to write a fancy and incredibly funky article about my personal experiences with weight loss recently and hoo har if it ain’t calorifically dense with words and mad phrases yo!

Stop it.

Okay. Now that the inner demon has spewed verbal diarrhea onto my keyboard again, it’s time to get serious. But where to begin? Well, somewhere near the start seems like a good place.

“It was a cold winters eve. Dwarves lined the streets all wearing pogo hats and small children delicately bounced over the snow, yelping in rapturous glee as they embraced the soothing yet bitter cold that heralded the start of a new day. Meanwhile. In the faroff village of Torquaye, a fat man woke, belched into the cold frigid air with a sense of certainty and then proceeded to eat the children.”

I was that fat guy. I was also the children. But I digress. In short. I was a very big guy. Still am to a degree but yeah, I made the mistake of basically eating a fuckton of bad shit over the years and ballooning up to 20+ stone. What to do right? Well, at first the answer seemed to be to eat more pizza. But after I realised that was fucking retarded. I decided to diet.

And then nothing happened.

So I decided to diet again.

And nothing happened.

See where this is going?

Then finally. I got diagnosed with diabetes and something just fucking clicked. I mean, without meaning to sound too much like a cliche, a light just went on in my head and said. “Okay. Enough fucking around. This is serious now. You could fucking die or go blind or lose a foot. SORT YOUR FUCKING SHIT OUT.”

So I did.

The End.

,,,,

,,,,,,

Kidding. But in all seriousness, I needed a catalyst to kickstart me onto the diet which I had so desperately wanted to start for a good few years. So since the waffling is now over. I’m going to talk about what I did with a few helpful steps to getting there and hope not to bore the shit out of people. Still reading? Good.

So to start off with I educated myself. Boring right? Well no. It’s kinda important to get basic facts about dieting and changing your lifestyle down right before embarking on a holy crusade to banish the fat to the nether regions. Without a basic idea of whether or not you’re doing the right or wrong thing, you could quite easily put in a lot of effort, emotion and time only to get zero results (or worse!) and find yourself sufficiently discouraged to drop the whole idea alltogether and ring up your old friend Dominos for some cheesy advice with a slice of pepperoni.

As an example; not only have I made mistakes myself in the past, but I’ve found myself cringing when people I know have started a diet by utterly starving themselves, cutting out lunch, and eating lettuce for breakfast etc. Don’t get me wrong. Dieting requires willpower. But slamming your head into a rock and gazing at the bloody yet slightly pretty viscous pool of your own vital bodily fluids isn’t the way to do it. Worse still, such behaviour not only guarantees that you’ll crash and burn about a week or two in, but you’ll probably overall gain weight because A: your body goes into starvation mode and literally sucks in the crap when you finally gorge on those cookies and B: when you crash and burn...you crash and BURN. Replace the word BURN with “stuff yourself fucking silly because you’re so hungry you could quite happily stab your own grandmother and eat her eyeballs” and you’ll be somewhat close to the truth.

So educate yourself and don’t make stupid mistakes. That’s step 1 by the way!

Step 2 is obviously applying a common sense diet to yourself that isn’t a fucking fad diet or some other utter bollocks that gives amazing results over 1 month and then bumfucks you in the mouth without lube for the remaining 11. The simple thing is, dieting is ironically very, very simple. It involves burning off more calories than you use. So if you go for a strict but sensible diet like myself which involves no crap whatsoever and eating simple whole foods like porridge, soups, chicken, fish, veg - then yeah, you’re pretty much guaranteed results AND while you will be hungry from time to time, you won’t be utterly starving.

On the other hand. If you try the latest seaweed diet or some bullshit that involves eating as many carbs as you can shove in your face before 2:38am on a full moon, then the chances are that once again, you’re going to fail. Either the diet will be so anally specific in what you have to do that you feel like you’re constantly fighting a battle, or the diet works in the short-term but doesn’t take into account the fact that as soon as you stop the fad diet, the weight comes straight back on again. Also. To be quite honest, dieting shouldn’t be stupidly hard! Don’t get me wrong, even if you do it right, it will require willpower, contant reassurance to yourself and generally be hard sometimes. But if it’s so difficult that it’s genuinely stressing the hell out of you, then how the hell do you expect to maintain that for any length of time? You just can’t is the very smug and somewhat right answer.

That being said. There are plenty of ways of dieting that I haven’t tried that I have read very good things about. Slimming world routines are supposed to be quite decent for example, but from what I gather they use a lot of common sense and give you the option to have a lot of variety in your diet. So a good thing then.

The third step I’d recommend is to not become disheartened. I know from personal experience as well as reading numerous blogs from other dieters that at some point you will feel despondent for a variety of reasons. Perhaps you’ve just started your diet and you’re not seeing any weight loss yet? In which case I can tell you it took me 4 weeks of dieting before I saw ANY results. Which sucks because quite frankly the first couple of weeks are the hardest...especially when you don’t see any form of response to your change in lifestyle.

Another downer is when you’re doing exceptionally well but over induldge and have a week with no results or even worse, a gain. That happens. You might have a particularly depressing week and say “fuck it” one night. Or you might finally stop bailing on everyone and have a weekend of drinking and hangover food. It happens. But there is a difference between successful dieters and those that fail. Those who fail let a temporary mistake become a permanent one. The ones who succeed get miserable, kick themselves in the backside and then get back on the fucking horse. Be the horse. Or get on it. Just don’t eat the fucking thing alright?

While we’re on the subject of horses. Let’s go to step 4. Alcohol. Now. The likelyhood is that you like the occasional drink or worse, you like getting utterly smashed every weekend. The sad and to the point fact of this is if you want to diet and see results, you have to stop the drinking for the most part. Alcohol doesn’t just equate to huge amounts of calories, but there’s also the double kicker that your body prioritises burning alcohol as a fuel source before ANYTHING else. So any carbs, fat, protein you have....they basically get ignored for the most part while your body works on burning the alcohol off first. Simplistic way of explaining it. But you can obviously see why that’s not a good thing if you consume enough alcohol to last 24 hours. Pretty much everything you eat in that time is wasted calories. Also, seeing as hangover food generally involves greasy shite and whatever you can mop up off the kitchen floor with your tongue, the chances are it’s not going to be healthy food sitting in your colon either.

Now, I generally only have a decent drink every 4-6 weeks as of recently and usually that’s because eventually friends get fed up of me bailing on them and want to come over for a drink/film night or I end up getting invited to something or another which involves the tasty booze. Now so far, I have been derailed only once and that’s when I went fucking mad and drank an entire bottle of vodka. Last week though I had my first drink in about 5 weeks and had a half bottle. Same week I weigh myself and a massive 4lbs loss. So it is doable if you’re sensible and stick to sugar-free mixers. I wish I could say there’s an easy way of having your cake and eating it. But let’s face it, that’s what got most of us into trouble in the first place. Damn you tasty cake. Damn you and your iced nipples.

(”what?” - brain)

(”dunno” - other brain)

(fuck you guys, I’m outta here - imaginary hamster who I’ve named Frederick the 2nd.)

Where was I? Oh yes. Dieting. Right...

The obvious 5th and useful step is to exercise. Now I know. Exercising involves getting up off ones arse and actually doing something and nobody, I mean fucking nobody hated the idea of that more than me, but I went ahead and did it anyway. Why? Because it helps obviously!

Now apparently dieting is majority influenced by what you eat. I can believe that. Somedays when I’m being a bit stupid and not overly hungry, I can easily eat only 1200 calories - which as a bigger guy who originally needed 3000calories+ just to maintain, means that I was essentially dropping well over 1500 calories a day. Now, if I spend an hour on a crosstrainer as I used to years ago, or as preferred these days, go for a 2 hour walk, I can burn about 600-800 calories. Even on a good day when I consume nearly 2000 calories, I still lose 1000 just by dieting. So yeah, the diet should always take precedence over exercise....but, if you combine the two together. Then you have something that really makes a difference. Even if it means losing on an extra couple of pounds a month - that’s a stone in a year. So yes, whatever type of exercise you can do that makes you sweat, get on it and keep at it. As said, I go for 2 hour walks (now more like 1.5 hour due to getting fitter) every other day as well as walk to work and back so that adds up.

Oh and also, exercise doesn’t just help with the weight loss. It also helps to tone your body up and makes you feel better about yourself. I highly recommend it for the latter reason alone to be quite honest.

Just don’t think that walking for 10 minutes or even 30 is sufficient exercise. If you’re not slightly sweating by the end of it, then you’re not making much of a difference.

So those are the basics. There’s a thousand and one other things I could say about dieting, getting fitter and exercise. But to be quite frank I’d probably end up writing a book and you’d all get bored to death...Or you’d buy it and make me enough money to drop my till-monkey job and bask in the sunshine somewhere while gazing at young spanish women in bikinis. But that’s my personal insight into weight loss so far. (mmm, bikinis.)

As for myself. I’ve currently lost over 50lbs and dropped over 6 inches from my waist. Most of which has happened in the last 4 months. I’m still not content with my size though so I plan to keep going for another 50 just so I can brag about being that irritating bastard that dropped 100lbs. I can say this though. I haven’t felt this happy, confident and at ease with myself for many years. I only wish I’d kicked myself up the backside and done it sooner.

Oh and if I can do this. Anybody can. Guaranteed.

(disclaimer. If you have no legs, get fed by a machine or have been genetically modified by reptile people to only accept KFC as a form of delicious sustenance. Then maybe not. That being said. There’s no point sueing me as I have no money and will just laugh in your face before farting in your tea and weeing on your pet cat for good measure.)

(disclaimer 2. I don’t hate cats. I just think they’re generally evil little shitbags from an alternative dimension that have been sent here to mock us with their general apathy and fondness for shitting in my bed.)

#weightloss #notadiarythistimekinda #diet #hairyhamsternipples #iwonderwhatbeingnormalislike? #probablyfuckingboring #ohyeah #healthy #seaweedisnotafood.com

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 8 years

Text

So it’s been a while Ver 2.0

So where to start? Well. I haven’t updated this damned thing in nearly 3 years and a fair bit has happened in that time so hey ho. I guess I should get this shite out the way for my own peace of mind and then perhaps, just perhaps I might write some articles that don’t make my tumblr look like a fucking diary.

Last time I checked in, I was in a pretty bad place. I was recovering from a massive psychosis, not working, unhealthy as fuck and co-habiting with my girlfriend of several years. Well. Pretty much all of that has changed, except the unhealthy bit, but I’m working on that slowly but surely. Honest. *eats cake*

So first off. I got a job. Hooray! You shall say with flamboyant happiness and mirth! Who am I kidding? Nobody except me reads this fucking thing and I can’t see that changing at anypoint soon. But yes. I got a job....at a shop! How’s that for fucking originality? Me! Working in a dead-end retail position! It’s almost like the 4 years of getting a degree was for nothing! Oh wait. It was.

Hah. Anyway, despite being slightly bitter about that. It’s actually not a bad job. Granted there’s several customers and their children that I’d happily murder in cold blood just to taste their salty tears. (especially the children...) But otherwise it’s okay. It’s a job. It’s a reasonably healthy way of earning a living and it’s got me back out into the world. So if anything I’m grateful for that. Besides it’s braindead work that a lobotomised fucking chicken could do. And as we all know. I’m an expert on chickens.

The other thing is that I’ve pretty much recovered from the psychosis. I say pretty much in that I only stopped taking the Risperidone a few months ago and yeah, everything’s better. I still get the voices and the occasional auditory hallucination, but God tells me that’s fine and I shouldn’t worry about it until he resets the universe again.

Kidding. Nah. In all seriousness, things are much better and hopefully I won’t ever relapse. If i do. It’ll probably be brought upon in a sub-psychotic fit of rage induced by one of the bat-shit retarded customers that I have to put up with and then it won’t matter because I’ll most likely be getting trotted off to prison for murdering them with a blunt icecream to the back of the head while I dance around the shop flailing with glee and masturbating like a feral chimp on acid.

Like I said. Back to my old self. Disturbingly.

What else? Oh yes. The girlfriend. Well. That’s over.

...

.....guess I should say more about that. Well. The short version is that it ended about 5 months ago through a pretty amicable breakup. The long version is that for reasons I’m not going to go into here, it just slowly died a death. Personally, I think there were faults from both sides and I’m aware that financial struggles early on during the relationship coupled with various personal problems not to mention the stress of my meltdown probably helped to kill it dead. Not much I can do about that except appreciate the good times, learn from the bad and put it down as being a very important part of my life. Experiences afterall are all we really have in the end and despite it not always being easy, I wouldn’t remove those experiences for the world. I still thankfully have maintained good contact with my ex and wish her well in the future. She’s a good person (despite the fact she’d argue with me over that!) and deserves a happy life.

Anyway. Also earlier this year I got diagnosed with diabetes. Now. For anybody who has known me long enough, they know that I’ve yo-yoed with my weight since forever. I’ve made a habit of losing a large amount of weight...getting into happy mode and then inevitably life’s stresses come along, facefuck me like an otter and then I put it back on again.

Well, yeah, that happened again. Last time ironically wasn’t so much stress actually as I was just being content with my life and I stopped giving a fuck about my appearence and sadly health without realising it. I’ve added that to my list of pitfalls to watch out for in the future.

So yeah, diabetes and I was weighing in at about 21 stone. Suffice to say, the diabetes was the first kick up the arse I needed to start sorting my lifestyle out and losing some weight. The second kick up the arse if I’m being completely honest was finding myself single again. Both seem to have worked because I’ve managed to drop nearly 50lbs. Would’ve been more, but I stopped giving a fuck for the first two months after my relationship broke down and while I didn’t actually gain any weight thankfully, the reasonable quantities of alcohol that I consumed kept me from losing any. So yeah, I’m just over 17 stone now with a goal to hitting 12 stone eventually. I’m feeling much better in myself and have hugely improved energy levels, libido (cor blimey guvnor!) and confidence. I’ll probably write an article about that on its own at some point but suffice to say. Shit is going well. Oh and my bloodsugar levels from my recent diabetes test have shown MASSIVE improvement. So yay me etc.

The other things are obviously I’ve moved from when I split from my ex. I’ve gone from the most depressing fucking flat EVER to living with one of my best and most longterm friends that I’ve had the good fortune of knowing. If you read this you silly cunt, all I can say is thanks!

So. For now that’s about it. What does the future hold? God knows. I’m being honest. For the time being the job is fine and just about every other job in the area that I’m qualified to do is basically the same money but without the guaranteed 30 hours. Besides, in a weird way I’ve grown accustomed to my little shop with its fucktard customers and varied colleagues. Varied. That’s all I’m saying. Yeah. I’m not saying anything else. I don’t need my coffee cup being wiped along the rim of an arsehole before I drink from it.

Yup. It’s a classy place.

Otherwise the only other vague plan I’ve got is to perhaps try teaching English somewhere in Asia (possibly South Korea) in a few years when I’m healthy, have saved up, done the required teaching courses etc but I’m still in two minds for various reasons. We’ll see. Besides, knowing my track record for updating this thing, the next post might be in five years time explaining how I’m now a transexual being who identifies with microwaves and is currently in a relationship with a gay cat called Dave.

#mylifeagain #updatenumber392389237 #work #diary

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manicmustard-blog-blog · 10 years

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theHunter Review

Right I know, I know. I usually don't bother with reviews, but I saw that a hunting game I dabbled with years ago has finally come onto steam and I've been left so flummoxed by it that I thought I'd come onto here for a quick rant. Hell, I'll be honest, this isn't even going to be a fair review, it's just going to be a rant.

So what game has peaked my interest and mildly pissed me off today you may ask? Well, it's called theHunter, note the catchy name. And as hunting games go, I can only imagine that it's a pretty decent representation of what real hunting is like - ie lots and lots and lots of walking around aimlessly hoping to find something to shoot. And yes, there is that! But wait, there's more.

theHunter seems to be a decent attempt at making a "serious" hunting game for the fans and the serious wannabes. Now that's awesome and they've done a great job in many departments. The graphics are pretty stunning, the sounds are quite enticing and have you actually believe you're walking through the woods of some North American wilderness and even the gadgets and guns behave more like you'd expect them to in real life. So all good eh? Well, yes and no.

On one hand, the "serious" nature of the game is quite interesting. This isn't a game you throw yourself into for a quick 20 minute blast, in fact I'd say that if you shelled out real cash and hence blackmailed yourself into playing it for fear of feeling like a twat otherwise, you'd need to dedicate at least a couple of hours to it in one solid sitting as you will probably spend the first 20 minutes slowly walking into the woods trying to find prey trails and then the next 20 minutes trying to track down your yummy deer before making the oh so satisfying kill. And the kills are satisfying. Afterall, if you've spent the best part of half an hour or so tracking down a pesky deer, then putting a round of your old faithful through its neck just seems like the right thing to do. But therein also lies an irritation.

You see, rather than just sell the game at £20 or £30 a pop. Some bright spark decided to make the game a freemium title. Now, you know how I generally feel about those from previous posts and this is sadly no exception. So what do you get as a free player? Well, you get the ability to play the game with a nice rifle and do missions to get in game currency to buy stuff, so nothing new there then. Sadly the game introduces licences, much like in real-life, where you're only allowed to shoot certain animals. So having done the tutorial I decided to wing it into the full game in search of mule deer - because that's the one animal I was allowed to shoot. Guess then what I found? Well, pretty much every single species except mule deer! Sod's law perhaps.

What's doubly irritating is that when you find a trail marker, you get filled with excitement...only for your hunting gadget to cooly inform you that "Yes! You have found whitetail deer, rabbits, coyotes, wild pigs and a few aliens anddddddd YOU HAVE NO LICENCE FOR THEM SO YOU CAN'T SHOOT THEM." So in short and down to brass tacks. If you don't pay money into the game, you've got yourself one pretty looking, but pretty boring walking simulator.

Now. Anyway that may be unfair and I need to bother with the game a bit more perhaps. But I've just spent the last hour on one walkabout where I literally found nothing I could touch and was rewarded with nothing more than backpain from leaning towards the monitor in hope of finding something that the game would actually let me shoot. Don't get me wrong, I know I'm tightarse in general and don't like shelling out money where I don't have to, but even if I did suddenly have £30-£40 to drop on a game, I'm don't think my initial impressions of the game would convince me that this is a good place to put it. Harsh perhaps, but an honest opinion from the first few hours of playing.

Finally, I know I hate freemium games generally, which means I am a bit biased right from the load, but one thing that I noticed more than anything was the hunting licenses. I mean, it wouldn't be so bad if you could buy a hunting license for an animal and that's it. But no, in this game you can buy timed licenses for different animals that run out after 1 day etc. That just seems kinda over the top to me - and yet again reinforces my love for games that you buy and then actually own, rather than games that offer everything for "free" and then keep constantly screaming at you for your credit card details.

I'd still recommend trying it anyway, if only for the nice walking simulation for when it's cacking it down with rain and you can't be arsed to leave the house.

#thehunter #freemium #pay to win

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