A Pain in the Neck, 12 Minutes Exercise and a Preempted Tribute!

Posted on March 1, 2012

A description of someone or something that is a real annoyance or nuisance is often described as being a pain in neck or a pain in the arse and though I have been fortunate enough not to have a had a pain in the arse as yet, yesterday morning, for some inexplicable reason, I awoke not being able to move my head, such was the pain down the back of it,  that went in to my neck and down my right arm. I am uncertain what the root cause was, but it was was probably an awkward sleeping position or a game of badminton the day before that had tweaked a nerve ending. At its peak, my right arm went in to a state of pins and needles and the only way out seemed a bullet to the back of my head, it was utter misery. A hearty dose of red wine and ibuprofen last night got me off to sleep and thankfully, I woke this morning with just a dull ache rather than the full scale pain of yesterday. Phew!

The next time I describe someone as a pain in the neck, it will be aimed at a person who is spiteful, nasty and evil rather than a minor nuisance. Someone who is a minor nuisance can become “He’s a broken fingernail” or “She’s like mild indigestion.” This particular pain in the neck was more Adolf Hitler than say, Alan Hansen, who is more like an irritable bowel after a night on the Port and Stilton. The great irony of this injury is that it was more than likely caused playing badminton, one of the many games I partake in as part of my ongoing futile attempt to become the “Jack of all Sports Master of None” as a way of  keeping my fitness levels up and my obesity levels down. I do this so I can live to a ripe old age when I will be able to worry myself sick about my pension and slag off the youth of today whilst I urinate in my wheelchair. I expect that if I get to 80 (highly unlikely) a pain in the neck will seem like a lakeside picnic on a warm summers day.

If the BBC2 programme Horizon is to believed, all my attempts at being the fittest 44 year old in my Cul-de-Sac have been a waste of time anyway. I would have to run two laps of the world to burn off a cheese filled jacket potato and a pint of bitter, but three minutes of vigorous exercise a week could turn me  in to an Adonis. You need to watch it on BBC Iplayer (Click here) it is extraordinary stuff that will have people ripping up there Gym memberships……before sellotaping them back together again after realising they have signed up to a hereditary index linked membership for the whole family to enjoy until the year 3000. There are apparently three types of person and 20% of us are genetically made up as fast calorie burners and 15% are slow burners. I bet if there was a survey of fat forty-something blokes a 100% would claim to be in the 15% slow burning category with 0%  claiming to be fast burners. “I had eight pints of Kingfisher and a curry last night, but because I am a slower burner, I just cant seem to burn it off, the only thing burning is my ringpiece.”

This also blows my “Gospel according to Mathew Syed” theory to an extent, because if there is a genetic reason to how our energy levels are made up (which seems pretty evident) then surely if two people practice one sport  under the same golden 10,000 hour rule with one person being in the 15% slow burning bracket and the other in the 20% fast burning bracket, the level of performance will differ? The nature/nurture debate goes on and on, I wonder if Francis Galton (author of Heriditary Genius in 1869) ever thought expert opinions on genetics would still differ one hundred years after his death? Still, as an experiment for you all to enjoy, for the next month I am going to try a vigorous exercise routine for at least the time scale recommended on Horizon. This will include working out on a rowing machine and a cross trainer along with attempting to masturbate myself to an orgasm whilst looking at a picture of  Deirdre Barlow on my computer screen. If nothing else, I will have a right arm like Arnold Schwarzenegger, so it’s a win win situation really. I will give you the results of my weight and general health during the first week of April, shortly after the operation on my penis.

Fitness wanking material: Deirdre pictured shortly after swallowing Ken’s spunk.

What kind of exercise Davy Jones of The Monkees did was obviously not enough to keep his 65 year old heart ticking away and I must admit that writing a glowing tribute about the Monkees and downloading their greatest hits a day BEFORE he passed away did make me feel rather strange. Saying someone is great and buying their albums is a rather bizarre habit people indulge in after a person has died ( see Whitney Houston, Michael Jackson and Amy Winehouse etc etc) so trust me for trying to be different and getting in first by doing it all the day before. I said what I wanted to say about the Monkees the other day, but that won’t stop me posting another of their hit singles on to this page. Sod it, I will say it again, the Monkees were the undisputed Kings of  manufactured bands, at some point, somewhere, whether we care to admit it or not, we have all sung along or danced to the Monkees at a Birthday or Wedding party. When we were teenagers having drunken barbecues at my Mum and Dad’s house the Monkees album would always appear eventually!

Hopefully this was all just a coincidence and I have not become the prophet of doom, though in some circumstances it could be fun………..

George Osbourne is wonderful chancellor, exactly the right man to take our economy through troubled waters at this difficult time. He is, without doubt, one of the great political leaders of our time…..a truly great man of the people!

It’s worth a try.

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