Tuesday, June 21, 2005

Salad Daze

It seems like summer has finally arrived. What a difference a fat ball of gas 93 million miles away makes to London. Suddenly everyone decides to go outside, to bask in the heat. It's a nice idea. What isn't a nice is people who get burnt to a crisp. It's true what they say. "Only mad dogs and englishmen go out in the midday sun." The amount of sorry looking lobsters I saw on Monday proved me right. As a rule of thumb I usually duck for cover between 11.30 and 2.30. And for your skin's sake, put on some sunscreen or wear a hat. It's common sense.

Another interesting thing I saw is the willingness guys are to get their tops off and play football in the sweltering heat. Does heatstroke mean anything you you guys? At least get a few sunbeds in to give your self a base tan and save us all from the milk bottle white. (that sounds incredibly camp)

I'm digressing. Anyway on the subject of summer, I'm on a mission to find the best salad ever. I've got a few recipes, but I'm always on the hunt for some more. If you happen to read this, take a few minutes to add a recipe, and I'll dig up another recipe, to add to the vegetable pile.

There is a few reasons I love salads in summer. They seem like the perfect food. Not too heavy, really good for you, and with hot weather, who can be arsed standing in front of a stove? Not me. I just wished my local shop knew anything about vegetables. Nearly everything is rotting or shrivelling up. How do they expect anyone to buy this crap? Brixton Hill, sort out your vegetables please! I might have to venture down to Electric Avenue and buy a good supply of veges, or take the plunge and start getting a Abel & Cole's Organic box, once a week. The best reason however for being a salad freak for the next few months is to get rid of the few pounds of fat that have decided to stay put in my belly. Cheers Becks.

This brings me round to the final stage of my summer plan. Actually to do some exercise. Last time I attempted the gym it was a total disaster. I went, paid my dues and went for my induction. Easy peasy. Next time I went down to the gym it was rammed, and nigh on impossible to get on anything. Fuck you Fitness First. They told me to come in the morning at 6.30, as that time was less busy. This was at the beginning of the year. I tried it once. I made it to the end of the street and quickly turned around. There were like polar bears rummaging through rubbish bins, and penguins trying to waddle south. Fuck that for a game of soldiers. Back to bed, to get up at a civilised hour.

To top it all off, I didn't read the fine print of my contract (as usual) and they kept on taking £45 out every month. Wankers. However I'm now an expert with dealing with the man, and got out of my contract. It involved talking through clenched teeth, asking for supervisors, and talking to everyone that would listen. It took a month, but it paid off.

So I've figured out, that gyms aren't for me. My gym card however makes a good chopper, so it's not a total waste. So, I've decided to buy a bike, and start to do a few laps of Brockwell Park, eventually, once I'm game enough, start to bike to work.

Wish me luck, I'm off to price bikes the noo.