All entries for Saturday 19 March 2005
March 19, 2005
My bloody brother let it slip to my mother that I am bulking and I have just received an angry phone call from my mother trying to talk me out of it. Here is a brief transcript of the conversation…..
Mother: Matthew, David told me about your bulking and I have to say I am very disappointed. I don't want you to turn into one of these disgusting musclebound freaks. All the muscle will just turn to fat as you get older and you will end up like your father. What possessed you to want to bulk?
Me: Mother don't be silly. It won't turn to fat, the only reason boxers get fat is because they eat the same amount when they stop workiing out as they did when in training. And I am bulking because I want to get in good shape for the beach this summer.
Mother: You silly boy. Lots of muscles are common, and proper, nice girls don't care for muscles. Only lower class, sluts like muscular men.
Me: That is not true mummy. There is nothing wrong with having muscles. It doesn't make me common. I will retain my plummy accent and continue to wear tweed and will even return my hair to its side-parting but I want to bulk so I can get big and muscular to impress the ladies on the beach.
Mother: THAT IS IT you are not allowed to go on holiday to Scandinavia. I thought you were going to watch Swedish films, as i know how much you love arty films, but lo and behold you are just going to flirt with Swedish girls. Why cannot you date one of the nice public school girls i introduce you to?
Me: Mummy, they are all boring and all they ever talk about is horses, hockey and shopping. Besides, none of them are natural blondes, and I know how you want me to have beautiful blonde babies.
Mother: While that is true Matthew, I want you to marry an English girl who went to a public school, not some liberal Scandinavian blonde bimbo.
Me: Mummy I am not going to marry the first girl i meet on a Swedish beach. I am just going to have fun and romance.
Mother: Matthew, I have told you many times and I tell you again. I have to approve of and meet all prospective girlfriends before you go out with them.
Me: Mummy I am almost 21. I can choose who i date
Mother: I know best. I just don't want you to end up with an unsuitable girl.
Me: No girl I ever date will be good enough for you.
Mother: (attack is the best form of defence) well i won't give you seconds and you can buy your own food…