Something a little more dignified in future, please?

[davywavy]

I've talked before about the D-Plan diet ("Eat less food, take more exercise") and its astonishingly beneficial effects upon general health and fitness when applied in sensible moderation. However, in the past some people have disagreed with it as an effective diet plan. So, by way of a scientific experiment,* I've spent the last few weeks practising the anti-D-Plan diet: namely "Take no exercise whatsoever whilst stuffing your face until the button flies off your trousers".
By rights, if the D-plan diet is a poor way of gaining health and losing weight, then the anti-D-plan diet should be a lousy way to gain weight and lose fitness, right?
Ha.
Needless to say, I've put on a bit of weight, so it's back to the exercise regime after a few weeks off and by golly it was hard work. Just how hard was summed up whilst kickboxing on Monday night when I distinctly felt something go *boing* where something shouldn't go *boing*, and realised that a trip to see a professional medico was in order.

So it was that last night I found myself in St Thomas' Hospital, being prodded and poked in an intimate, undignified and embarassing fashion by trained medical practitioners. Being asked if something hurts by a man wearing medical gloves isn't something I'd normally put at the top of my list of ways to spend an enjoyable evening**, but eventually the doctor turned to me and told me I'd got a severe strain in the muscles of my groin.
Hilarity ensued.
I would mind less if I'd been doing something that could possibly make this less undignified. If I'd been able to say; "Yes, Doc, I've got a queue of supple honeyz outside my bedroom door, and servicing them all has obviously taken its toll. Heigh ho, I suppose it's the price one pays for being a love god, isn't it?" or something along those lines it would have been better than having to own up to guzzling grub and booze like there's no tomorrow and I'm wearing an elasticated waistband on my trousers before flinging myself back in the deep end and trying to boot that irritating Green belt upside the head.
Why can't I have a cool sporting injury, eh? A duelling scar, perhaps, or a limp like Herr Flick of the Gestapo? Why do I have to get an injury which, if it happened to anyone but me, I'd be rolling on the floor hooting with merriment? It's a real Terry and June injury. You can almost see Terry Scott struggling with a deckchair before clutching himself and falling to the ground, and that's the sporting injury I get.
I bet Jackie Chan never has this trouble. He gets cool injuries like a fractured skull and severe spinal damage. I just have to walk in a funny way for a while.

Bloody real life.

<sup>*And not because I'm bloody lazy and a greedy pig or anything like that, oh no.

** Unlike token_limey, who positively thrives upon that sort of thing.</sup>