Another Quickest of Quick Doodles

Brooding action hero! I think he kind of looks a bit like Sylvester Stallone in his younger Judge Dredd/Demolition Man years. I love those films! My Grandfather use to record all these action movies from TV and then when I visited, we'd sit and watch them for hours. Although seeing the 3-boobed alien chick from Total Recall was kind of awkward.

Employment

Clicking mice, tapping keys, ringing phones and computer screens.
Hours stretch out like a desert road. Tired eyes hoping for the clock to change. Looking for the numbers to alter, like an addict looking for a fix. Each glance always done with haste as each minute feels like ten. Office life is no life for me.

It's unfortunate that so many people celebrate the arrival of Friday with such fervour, all because it heralds the start of the weekend and the weekend meaning no work for two whole days. Then just as quickly, treat Monday like a plague victim. Shunned, cursed and avoided because it brings with it the beginning of the five day trudge towards the next weekend. Weekends are placed on such high a pedestal that they may as well be in orbit. I say it's unfortunate because a job is something you must do in order to live in relative comfort, and something you must do for a damn long time. So why is it everyone, myself included, doesn't strive for a job that doesn't make the weekend look like an oasis in the 9 to 5 desert that is Monday to Friday?
Now I for one find myself to be quite lucky. I all but fell into my job and while it's a far cry from anything I had in mind in my wondrous youth, it's not really something I can complain about. I rise at 6am (turns out there's a 6am) and start in my office at 7am. I have my own office. Me! I'm 23 years old with my own office. It's sounds impressive if I don't go into detail, so I won't. I can wear what I like, not that I have an aversion to suits, I love suits, but wearing your most comfortable clothes in order to sit in a room for 7 hours is a blessing. The only issue really is that I can get bored and in essence, offices and boredom pretty much go hand in hand. Yet I still find myself yearning for that relaxing wave to wash over me as I step out the doors on a Friday afternoon. Sure it isn't just offices. I have friends in retail and teaching who feel the same way. So why is it we just want to spend 48 hours a week pretending the other 120 don't exist? Is the idea of working, paid employment nonetheless, that abhorrent to us and our urge to do as we please so strong?
Laziness? Selfishness? Or perhaps something of more virtue such as the need to work for oneself? To be your own man maybe (yes I said own man you political correctness nuts). Whatever the reason(s) and whether the fact gets resolved in time, all I can say is: TGIF.

Dr. House be angry.

On Healthy Eating and Self Torture

SO. I've joined a gym. Again. This time last year I actually joined a gym and contrary to popular belief went more than twice. The problem I had though was this: it was boring! Now I know all you actual healthy livers, movers and shakers out there will be all "It's not supposed to be fun!" but I ask you; are you not supposed to enjoy it even a little? In the end my exercising half-life seemed to be somewhat closer to that of fruit fly than the athlete I'm hiding somewhere beneath all the fat. The following 3 months actual got paid for as I told (read: lied to) myself that I'd go again.
Fast forward many months to the end of March 2010. With my best friend no longer half a country away at university, I used my keen wits to convince him to tag along to this flaunted building of machines designed exclusively to make you hurt. The conversation went something like this:
"Kev. Come to the gym with me."
"Ok."
He never stood a chance. And last week we signed over our bank details, firm in our beliefs that in time we'd be carved into some kind of demi-gods capable of running miles on a single breath and bench-pressing small families. This has yet to occur but 3 sessions means that I may require multiple breaths to walk a mile and can bench-press a small family of hamsters. Healthy living aside, people only go to the gym so they can look good naked. Everything else is just useful side-effects. Living longer means looking sexy longer. Needless to say, I'm now enjoying it. With my partner in crime egging me on all the while. Oddly enough the running/rowing/jogging/weighting is actually easier than it used to be. My theory: quasi-vegetarianism.
I love meat. It's awesome. But my diet was less than awesome and I can be picky when it comes to veggies. So I made myself be a vegetarian for 1-2 months in order to try things more and I have to say, quorn is pretty damn awesome to. Now I eat it most of the time and only engage in flesh consumption when someone else has cooked.

Pros: Delicious
Healthier
More energy
Insanely easy to cook
No dead animals for people to shout at me for

Cons: Quorn be freaking expensive!
My sleepy little city barely sells the stuff anywhere
I have been more ill more times while this has gone on
than when I was Mr. Picky-Carnivore, Consumer of Flesh

All in all it falls down to whether I want to be poorer, suffer illness more, have less time for fun but look sexy OR have more money, lots of meat, negligible illnesses, all the fun-time I want but be referred to as "cuddly".

Think it's a pretty obvious choice. Now where'd I put my gym bag?

The "I couldn't think of a title" Title

Writers block, writers block. Why are you here?
"I love to keep my friends so very near.
I'll hinder, I'll bar, I'll burden and choke.
To stop the creations of all you good folk."
He then cracked a smile and with a cheeky wink,
Into my thoughts the blocker did sink.
I swore and I cursed at this offensive intrusion.
"How to unblock?" I had no conclusion.
But then an idea snuck past the fiends gaze
And broke me out of this writers block haze.
"Use him!" the thought whispered into mine ear.
"Write about him!" It all became very clear.
So I struggled and squirmed out of his grasp,
And with each keystroke he let out a gasp.
"I am beaten. Finished. Spent. Undone.
This battle is over yet the war just begun.
I'll learn from this boy! This defeat by rhyme.
I'll be back soon, just give it some time."