Pure Awkward |4| The Weight
Here listen, lads. I’ve weight on. The girls are telling me I have to lose a couple of pounds before the summer, like. I got my haircut there last week and they were all pure shocked at the weight I was after gaining. I don’t feel it in myself to be honest with ye. I feel as fit as I always was. You know, they make my dinner but now I’m half starved. I can’t have any treats at all. Not one thing nice. It’s horrific. I’m wasting away lads. Will you take a look at me? Sure I won’t survive a winter. My portion sizes have gone right the way down. I mean that’s all well and good but, you know yourself lads, I need a bit of weight to keep me going. I’m a growing fella. It doesn’t matter what I say. They have me lumbered in with them on their diets. You should see all the lettuce that comes to the house. We’re like a fecking hippy colony. They went on holiday to America last year and it has gone to their heads’. I’m telling ye. They have a holiday coming up and they want to be ‘bikini ready.’ What does that even mean? Sure, I’m going on no holiday. I don’t have to be ready for a thing. They put themselves under that pressure. I don’t see why I have to be roped into ‘operation starvation,’ in all fairness.
The girls are after buying me a bowtie. Apparently, they think it makes me look pure handsome. Your man, Jack from next door says they have a fool made out of me. Kate says that it brings out the colour of my eyes. Everyone says they have a fool made out of me but sure, I don’t mind it. Women, fawning all over you? How bad? I went to the hairdresser the other day and when I came back they were all over me lads, I’m telling you. They are mad after my hair. They are telling me that my blonde tips are gorgeous. I mean, I know I’m handsome. It doesn’t take any fool to figure out what’s in front of him. I mean, I’m not septic now but I’m pure handsome, all the same. I don’t understand what the big deal is.
You never get to watch what you want to watch when you live with women. I never get to watch one programme. It is always ‘girl movies.’ I know enough about Nicholas Sparks to write an autobiography. They are all weak for that Super Vet show. Anna doesn’t stop crying when they have it on and Kate is weak for your man, the Vet. I can’t stand it myself. Jesus, watching anything medical like that gives me the willies. They are all bawling the entire time they watch it. Why would you watch something like that? I haven’t a notion why you would bother. Ellen is weak for the vet on it anyway. She’s always fawning over him.
I haven’t a job, you know yourself? So I am in the house the whole time and when they get home, I’m looking for the chats you know? Christ. You go over to them and they’re like:
“Get off me, will ya? Go away from me now until I’ve had a moment to sit down.” How does any fella cope with women? One minute they are all over ya and the next they don’t want you near them! I can’t figure them out. They are pure strange. All I ever get is:
“Stop eating my food. Stop taking my socks, stop farting and burping.” Sure you can’t do a thing right. It’s a like a fecking concentration camp inside in there. It’s pure awkward, in all fairness.
