Monday, August 25, 2008

Stupid Adverts


Alright, it's not new, but the more I see of these adverts, the more I want to enter the Land of TV and kick their sets over shouting: WHAT ARE YOU DOING?


Because, it's like this: all jolly family scenes, set to faux-Damien Rice type, Lucky Jim's 'Your Lovely To Me' .  In this little medley, which includes toothless grandpas and babies, we find Little Tyke who hands his dad some toast that he's just wiped around some grass with his wellington boot, and enter Middle Class Kitchen where dad and 2.4 kids sit round the table awaiting the arrival of mum's sandwiches.  

This is when I begin to hate Kingsmill and all it stands for.  Seriously.  It's as bad as chuffing Mum's Gone To Iceland, which is unforgiveable, but this one's just that little bit more sinister, because it cloaks itself in humour.  Like painting a clown face on a missile.

See: mum makes the sandwiches and places them on the table for her hungry family.  They may as well be banging their cutlery on the table and shouting UG UG UG.

My other most hated scene: mum (sitting away from family on sensible picnic chair) pulls out the tupperwear full of homemade sandwiches for the family and hands them around (because they're incapable of putting their pampered little paws into a sandwich box and removing the bread triangles themselves) at which, Little Tyke thinks its hilarious - HI-LARIOUS - to pop his tomato bits into his sister's hood.

Now, let's look at it another way.  Would we ever see Sister do that?  No, because Sister is one pubic hair away from handing out sandwiches themselves.  Sister's too busy using the lid of the tupperwear as a plate to be up to tomfoolery.

So let's have a look at what Kingsmill thinks equals a Real Family:

Mum is the food machine who waits on her family.
All little brothers are naughty.
All sisters are good little girls.
Dads do nothing - their role is behind the scenes where they earn the money that bought the food that mother uses to feed her family.

Those advertising geniuses at Kingsmill must've been flying the day they came up with THAT innovative approach.

Monday, August 04, 2008

The Results Bit

Ready? Minus 5lbs!

I know.

Luckily, Kylie left her hot pants here or goodness knows what I'd've been able to wear from my selection of kaftans.

Am feeling rather surprised and not a little - are these scales broken? But they're the ones that treated me so cruelly last week, so either they've developed a conscience or it's true. And I've managed to do it with my tipples so all is not lost. Yay!

It's a good start, though, eh? I was as 'good' as possible this weekend. I tried to eat as much within the diet as possible but I did have some pizza with William on Saturday night. But even then, I only ate the smaller slices and didn't end up feeling like I was about to give birth through my ears. I guess it's the cutting out of all the sugary shit - there's been no junk-type stuff (apart from the pizza) and most of the time I've been adhering strictly to my green day philosophy.

Things I've not done:
No lager/beer type thing, apart from a bottle of Sol at the pub with Sar.
No bucket of Minstrels at the Cinema.
Not eaten pizza til it came out of my ears.

Things I have done:
Stuck to my Green Day philosophies
Eaten more fresh veg.
Eaten bananas in yoghurt to fill me up.
Made my own breakfasts.
Allowed myself some booze.
Had one croissant on Friday morning.

That said, I was feeling pretty low and grouchy yesterday, which I think is through lack of protein - I realised that, for a pretty meaty person, I hadn't had anything closely resembling carnival for a week (apart from the four prawns in my Wagamamas rice on Thursday night). So I'm having a red day today and tomorrow - a big old chilli with no rice for tea tonight and then smoked salmon and more chili tomorrow.

It's strange how introverted you become on one of these diets, though. There's a real focus on where and how you can eat so meals out and snacking on the run become tougher to face. Yesterday I went to the V&A after a breakfast of mushrooms and tomatoes and was absolutely desperate for something sweet. Then, rather fantastically, I stumbled across this gorgeous little place called Snog which does fat-free frozen yoghurts so I had one of those with fresh strawberries and felt quite sated. Which was brilliant.

Ordinarily, I would've succombed without thinking to an on-the-run snack kind of thing which would've had cheese somewhere in it. Like when I was in Greece, I was forever eating the Cheese Pie - a kind of cheese turnover thing that was born in the Land of Lard. I had a feeling they may not be a Friend of Thin, but because everyone seemed to be eating them, they felt all continental and healthy. Not to mention the fact that the Mediterranean diet is supposed to be the best in the world. I'm guessing, though, that, in hindsight, the general Mediterranean doesn't spend all day face down in Cheese Pies. It would be kind of like me living in Greggs the Bakers which is the highway to Morbidly Obese and frequented by those who smell of fried food and make up the audience of Jeremy Kyle. If Gregg's Cheese & Onion Square is anything to go by, despite my naieve reckoning, the Cheese Pie perhaps isn't actually the food of the Gods ...

Anyway. Five pounds down, nine to go until target for October. Maybe I CAN do this.

High Five Smallwood!