Some people think they have solutions to life. Jogging is one. I feel compelled to say that after years of trying to get fit; this does not inspire me with confidence at all.
I see some of these the poor wretches coming past my window, dragging their ghosts along. What tortured perverted mind could invent such a thing?
The idea that after a ten hour shift on a factory floor, you should come home and go out for a jog, to me is like saying, “Well, you’ve got a cold but, what you really need is a touch of Malaria!” Obscene mumbling madness!
Where can this stuff come from if not from the pit of Hell?
On looking out of my window last week, I saw a man of about fifty who immediately grabbed my attention; he was wearing a tracksuit and bending over like he was being sick!
I went out to ask him if he needed help? He replied that he had ‘forgot his water bottle’. He looked so ill that I took him into my house and revived him with cups of tea. It took about an hour for him to look anywhere near normal, I also felt compelled to ask if he could eat some food? He devoured a cheese and onion flan, two rounds of veggie sausage sandwiches and three Kit Kats.
Only the Prince of Darkness could bring about this insane purgatorial suffering called Jogging, it is far beyond the wit of man! That poor old man with drooping tongue and badly fitting false teeth. The only good thing to come out of this was that he was intrigued when I said I had a three-word solution to his problem!
What’s that he asked? “Take up eating!” I said.