Would you believe me if I told you you could gain weight, lose money, and feel worse than you have in months?

Oh fuck why did I do this? Why did I do this to myself?

I am in physical pain.

On Saturday night I finished work so freaking hungry I went on the ultimate fool’s errand:

A Lidl run on an empty stomach.

That’s right. There I had been so sure I was all mature and sensible… pride comes before such a terrible fall. Gah I am in so much discomfort. I can’t sleep.

I know that was Saturday night right? Should be better by now, should be so much better…

Except I WAS all better, and I went and did it again.

Maybe I’m not making sense.

I went to Lidl to reward myself for… no, there was nothing to reward myself for. I was just hungry as fuck and didn’t feel like eating any of the perfectly viable food options waiting in my fridge. WHY YOU FOOL, WHY?

Ugh hurts so bad. Seriously…. uncomfortable to sit up, lie down… can’t sleep. Can’t enjoy self in any way.

I went to Lidl after work, anyway, and managed to make it past the first sweet and chocolatey aisle of temptations and picked up some lettuce and avocado and I was so cocky, I really thought I could do it…

I made it half way into the next aisle and…

Oh god.

I arrived home in the torrential rain (it’s flooding here, that’s right I may need to evacuate my home with severely strained stomach muscles. Not fun, and I will look really awful for the hot coastguard or whoever… actually I’m being melodramatic, I don’t live near the river so I’m ok.)

and unpacked, in disbelief at what folly the hunger had unleashed…

A packet of mysterious origin “mixed” sausages.

A pack of high sugar high salt and that’s about it, crust-free bread


“yoghurt” with chocolate balls




Pear juice

A jumbo bag of salted peanuts.

Sun dried tomato pate


Also a whole load of salad-y bits and pieces but that is just empty nutrients, I stuck those in the fridge and moved immediately to consuming as many of my awful treats in one go as possible.

I made sausages and I fried onions, I buttered the white bread and put sun dried tomato shit on that and wrapped sausage and onions up like in little sleeping bags, and I made what I affectionately called a salad but was really mozzarella, avocado and a bit of lettuce..

and arranged this on a plate and my juice and the caramel squares beside my bed-slash-eating area (don’t judge me I couldn’t take it right now) and I settled down for the ABSOLUTE GREATEST SATURDAY NIGHT ALONE OF MY LIFE!

Oh yeah!

I watched some movies so forgettable, I don’t even remember what they were. Either that or I do remember and I’m just ashamed of falling in your estimation if I tell you. Yes, I know, I admitted to feasting in bed on my own on a Saturday night and I’m too proud to admit to what goddawful chick flick I watched. What, you never see a hypocrite before?

I ate my sausages rolled up.

I was unable to open the olives so they were left out of my “salad”.

I ate my “salad” and felt like this counted for something even though it was 50% cheese.

I was so over full and stuffed to bursting but I wanted more, more, MORE!

I moved on to caramel squares. Oh man were they good caramel squares.

At one point I had to turn on the light (did I mention I was in the dark?) to check if the base of the caramel squares was actually biscuit at all because it just tasted like crumbly but solid brown sugar. Mmmmm caramel… so good… I couldn’t stop eating.

It was so GOOD. But there was no room.

My belly has shrunk considerably since I first started torturing myself to better impress the men around me who don’t appreciate it anyway.

I used to be able to eat all this and more so much more.

I forget sometimes, but I had the appetite of a beast.

I would have had my sausages in sleeping bags feast and then the caramel squares and then probably some pringles or something and then maybe a pack of jelly sweets and then some ice cream. And I wasn’t really very fat, but I would have got there I’m sure… all the more annoying then that I am so MEAN to myself now with food and I’m still considerably more plump than Terri Hatcher or Victoria Beckham, not that I would want to resemble anything so haggard or skeletal but I feel like I should have got to perfection a long time ago with less effort and not be only a good part of the way with a huge amount of effort.

And it’s been so long since I have really indulged at all besides the odd pizza and then oh man the self flagellation for getting extra cheese… then salad salad salad for dinner. Damn it.

So I forgot how painful and uncomfortable it is to have your stomach try to double in size from the force of food inside trying to fit… ugh horrible.

And I ate ALL the squares that night. And I wanted to cry afterwards like when you sleep with someone you weren’t attracted to, and afterwards it’s like the biggest injustice ever because I feel like why should I pay with all the guilt and unpleasantness when I didn’t even reap the rewards of my self indulgence?

I didn’t even enjoy those caramel squares because I was so full. the last one, and yes I am ashamed to type this, I just pushed into my cheeks and licked my fingers because I was sick and tired of holding it in my hand.  And then I waited until I felt like I could handle some more and swallowed it gradualy. Oh the shame.

I tossed and turned in AGONY for hours. I had some fizzy things that go in water that are described, like most of EVERYTHING in Italy, as being “a digestive aid.” Eventually I was able to sleep. I dreamt of cheese, and being thrown out of a supermarket for eating cheese and throwing the rinds on the ground, and also trying to have sex with people in there.

I woke up today and was still in pain, so I just had coffee thinking, you know…


Then I had some herbal tea.

Then I thought, damn I have so much nice food in my house, I wonder will I ever feel normal again?

I swore I would only eat little bits of things.

I finally felt normal again around 4pm.

Then I had…drumroll….

The exact same thing I had last night. Well I had to finish the sausages.

This time I put melted cheese on top because I wanted cheese but didn’t feel like eating any lettuce today.

I did not have any caramel squares left but after my sausage rolls I imediately felt so disgusting and pained again that I don’t even think I would have…

oh who am I kidding, I just ended up snacking on peanuts all night.

And then I had some brie about 2 hours ago.

With olives (to celebrate that I got the jar open)

And now I can’t sleep because an alien it trying to stretch my stomach out so far… so painful…

oh man starting to freak out maybe it will…


ugh no…

I’m ok. I just need to not think like that.


Ok that thought freaked me out so much I went and tried to make myself throw up but it didn’t work, it’s too unpleasant to force yourself to puke I don’t care I tried, for some reason the only time my gag reflex decides to sit one out, it’s when I’m actually jamming my hands down to my tonsils.

Now I just want to say I will never put my body through this again, but I already did it so I can’t even say for sure if I’ll learn from this experience or what.

Either way, after the amount of crap I have ingested I am gonna need some kind of intestinal flu type miracle… I mean if a moment on the lips equals forever on the hips, what happens if I have spent about 36 hours with junk food in my mouth?

Don’t answer that.

All my hard work,

I am gonna hate myself for this one.

Oh but in non-stretched-out-stomach news,

I also went out on Friday night with my awesome heels (I conveniently forgot about the height of most Italians) and I looked great and I had fun and then we went dancing but it was pissing rain so there was no one out, we had to go this awful studenty night club where the music was shitty but I thought fuck it I just want someone attractive to validate me as a woman by telling me I look good, but then the only person who did tell me I looked good was a weird German guy in the queue to the toilets. He said “why are you so good looking?” and I was flattered for a second and then I saw he had a pot belly but it was the kind of belly that a 5 year old little boy would have, I am picturing a little boy in like christmas pyjamas or something and the idea grossed me out considerably also he was not attractive, and I was just like “amazing genes and a lot of expensive makeup” and then he leapt on me and I allowed the first part of his drunken leering hug but cut him off before he face and head could get too close to me. I tried to do this in a way that said “look, you gave me a compliment so I am being magnanimous by allowing an introduction to a hug, otherwise you woulda got maced”

Then I went back to the dance floor and noticed there was one perk to being a head taller than everyone- I could scope out the talent quite easily.

Or in theory I could have- but in practice- and here we have it, my freaking THESIS on why I haven’t had any luck with Italian men…

dum dum dum…

It’s because I avoid their eye contact.


I don’t know how I haven’t picked up on this before, but there it is.

It is so clear to me now…

I realise that’s what I’m doing. My best friend’s theory is that I do this to avoid actually having to be with someone, but I don’t think that’s right because when I find someone I think is hot then I am all about the eye contact, sort of…

I think what is going on is I am afraid of giving eye contact before I have properly checked the guy out and decided he is definitely hot or tall enough or whatever.

In a club it is dark and there is awful strobe lighting and you can’t tell quickly… by the time I have a lock on a potential candidate, I have already been staring long enough for him to think I am checking him out in a good way. And I don’t know, I sort of feel like having given eye contact i sort of enter into a non-verbal contract with the guy and will have to put up with his unwanted advances all night.

I am not just being paranoid here, this is based on some experience. but by avoiding all eye contact I am essentially cockblocking myself forever…

So have to stop doing that.

But it’s making me realise how stupid I’ve been, just standing around expecting men to fall all over me while avoiding their eyes at all costs.


Ugh my stomach, it will be too late now when I start eyeing up the menfolk next weekend I will be a good dress size bigger.


Wanna feel normal again.

For a second considered reverting to an earlier save game… damn real life, why no saves?

Too hard to get it right in one…

Uggghhh can’t sleep, won’t be able to sleep…

So miserable.

Stupid stomach.


5 responses to “Would you believe me if I told you you could gain weight, lose money, and feel worse than you have in months?

  1. I hate overeating but I have been pigging on potato chips lately.
    I have to admit I have been quite lazy lately. I am playing Fable III and she just became queen. So hard to stop…
    At least I blogged today.

  2. hahaha! I did the same this weekend! I ate enough curry for 3 people (not counting the cornetto, subsequent entire package of strup waffles I inhaled while doing my shopping in town, pre-diunner bag of crisps, and after dinner chocolate bar and 2 bananas) That nite I couldn’t get near any open flames for fear of causing am major environmental disaster. Then the next day scarfed down the left over curry and lit a candle.
    The men thing is a struggle… I see guys I’d love to approach me, but they don’t and it seems I always get the real slimey ones. I suppose the decent ones don’t roll that way. The men either grope and drool all over you, or ignore you. My friends don’t even know any decent guys… they are all old men with spaghetti arms and panama hats.
    Dunno how it is in your zone – but I did my one-niter, now I can’t get rid of the guy. Beware, better if you don’t let anyone know where you live- for starters.

  3. Pingback: Hey barkeep, you know caffeine’s an aphrodisiac? No, it’s not… Oh, well I’m just horny. « More fucking opinions from someone on the internet.

  4. Wow. What an epic, slutty, eat fest. I totally approve of it. I was completely salivating reading over what you just ate. Damn you MFO, damn your delicious taste.

    My slutty eating fest will be just as bad this weekend. I’m going to summon the spirit of “Fat Guy Who Lives In The Basement Of Parents Playing Video Games.” I’m just going to have food and every form of alcohol spread around me in an arms lengths reach around my couch. Skyrim… so close.

    You shouldn’t be the one trying to go out and talk to guys. You’re a babe. Guys with balls should be going up to you. Why is Italy so damn backwards… with everything?! It hurts my brain.

    • Dude I know guys are supposed to be hitting on me but they just don’t. I’d say maybe I intimidate them but that feels like the sort of bullcrap they tell ugly girls so they don’t feel ugly. I don’t know man, I mean if I were a guy I would be all over me. I wear dresses every day, I cook, I like to spend long periods of time on my own, I don’t like shopping with men, I can drink whiskey without making a face, and you could ask me to do any weird shit in bed and the worst would happen is I’d say “no”. Also I dislike cuddling after sex. Also I don’t like getting head. And I don’t give a crap about whether the seat is up or down, I have an equal opportunities policy with the toilet. (I think I might just post that as my profile on a dating website, see what happens.)

      Yeah I have to do a double shift today but tomorrow work half the day and same Sunday (I got roped into Sunday damn it) I’m buying a bottle of whiskey and I will try and replace gorging on food with getting horribly drunk to save calories while playing Skyrim. OH man I am a catch. Happy gaming to you man, if you have it already. I am jealous much.

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