Treadmill

I've had a very busy time lately. To stave off boredom I waved the wife's credit card to help increase the national debt, and purchased a tin garden shed to be used as my holiday home away from home. It's at least ten feet from the house, so this will reduce travelling time and associated costs. Initially I had a bit of trouble and installed the roof where the floor would have been. Except there wasn't supposed to be a floor, so I just turned the entire project upside down. Had to drill a few holes because things didn't line up, and managed to drill a 3/16th hole in my left thumb. I didn't know a thumb owned so much blood. I sipped a few red wines to avoid dizzy spells and woke up the next morning with a sore head but my thumb was still in one piece. Marvellous stuff this cheap supermarket wine. I think I'll recommend it to the Minister of Health as an essential supplement for garden shed do-it -your-selfers.

New Zealand used to be an excellent DIY country but these days you need a council permit just to sit on the loo. So don't tell anybody about my "built without official permission" holiday home. If you do, guess whose loo I'm going to sit on next? Shit on me, you back stabbing council nark, and I'll shit on you. I'll tell council you were smoking cigarettes and drinking alcohol in their CBD. It'll be the council concentration camp for you. So there!

The wife's sister complained I was getting a fat stomach and that she might have to latch onto a slimmer mattress dancing partner. Mattress dancing was the only damn thing that made me stand up and take notice: so I made up my mind on the spot. A trip to the supermarket, three casks of red wine and a $199 treadmill exercise machine later, I was ready to accept all challengers to my dancing with the wife's sister's mattress routine. To quote Winston Churchill. Never before in the history of mankind were there so many women who enjoyed mattress dancing. I will fight for them on the waterbeds, the single bunks, the
floor and the back seat of motor vehicles. I will never surrender.

It took nearly three hours of rolling all over the floor to assemble the made in China treadmill. New Zealand is at the bottom of the world compared with China so I had to assemble the components the other way around. Finally, after installing two batteries to make the computer work, I was ready.

Knowing that excessive exercise was bad for my mattress dancing muscle: it could cause it to over extend, I took things easy. The first day I trudged wearily for 10 seconds and increased my tiring exercise by 2 seconds per day. By the end of the first week I was trudging my heart out a massive 22 seconds a day. Not wishing to overdo things, I levelled out to 20 seconds per session. My mattress dancing muscle increased dramatically in size but the wife's sister never complained. She just threw her arms and legs in the air and screamed delightedly. She's always relished energetic quick stepping over time consuming waltzing. But now she has learned to love my energetic time consuming quick stepping. One must progress in the name of art.

After a month of treadmill exercising and mattress dancing, I retired to my tin holiday home to recover from my over extended indulgences. Energetic quick stepping is damn hard on the knees. But after a week of red wine reflection, I realised that mankind has his immoral obligations, so I guess it's back to the wife's sister's mattress dancing treadmill again.

Please don't tell the wife about my holiday home. She thinks it's a tin shed and I don't want her trust in me betrayed. I have my reputation to consider.