You know good things happen in threes? Last night at Body Pump I was working out behind a lass whos arse, and I shit you not, was bigger and lumpier than mine.
I spent most of the hour trying to work out where her arse actually ended and I think it was around her knees.
*takes a moment to be smug*
To recap:
1. I did not have the largest arse in the room for one whole hour.
2. I've left a job I despised.
3. In under two weeks I'll be flying to Australia for a year.
Once the reality that all this is happening finally sinks in I think I may just wee myself.
*claps like a spastic*
Anyway, if I don't blog for a bit its because I'm off to visit the various friends and family I have scattered around the North West where I shall be avoiding various perils including but not limited to:
Liverpool - Might wake up on bricks.
Warrington - Possibility of casual headbuttings.
Ashton - Last time I was up there I was informed it had been unofficially renamed "Slashton." Nice.
Manchester - Extreme inebriation followed by vomiting into a bin and/or over the shoes of those unfortunate to be too close.
Yeah, that used to happen a lot.
Usually Involves Cake
