Saw this advert in a magazine the other day. Apparently I have a hang-up about my stomach; but I’m not to worry! This company has been working hard on developing innovative technology to make me look like Catherine Zeta-Jones in my bathing costume – PHEW!
So, how does this innovative tummy slimming technology work I hear you ask…
Well, here are my suggestions:
1) You drag your swimming costume up your body – tucking your flab in as you go – and an activated voice tells you to take it off again immediately and replace it with a bin bag to completely cover you up
2) The flab is re-distributed. If my stomach flab is sucked in it can only go to one of two places: under my boobs or around my arse. If it joined forces WITH my boobs I’d be over the moon – for the first time in my life I’d actually have a decent pair of boobs! But UNDER my boobs…not so much. If it settled around my arse that wouldn’t be good either. Kim Kardashian might have a humungous arse, but it’s still pert…if mine became humungous it’d just look like a sack of spuds trying to burst out of a string bag
3) The swimming costume is actually made of well disguised industrial metal and is able to successfully contain the population of a small Caribbean island; so dealing with my stomach flab won’t be an issue. Only problem is I’ll not be able to breathe, and will most likely feel sick – plus my ability to drink a shed load of cocktails by the pool will be seriously diminished
4) The swimming costume is magic, and the minute it comes into contact with my stomach several inches instantly disappear
The thing is ladies…I’m just glad to know that innovative technology is being put to such good use!
It’s great to know that our stomach flab is keeping technologists and/or scientists awake at night!
Have decided will no longer be wearing my big ‘squeeze it all in’ knickers. Think they might be why I feel a little queasy at the end of girls’ nights out. No, the number of cocktails consumed has absolutely nothing to do with it.
Big ‘squeeze it all in’ knickers are great in theory but in reality, I ask you, where does all the flab actually go?
It would be great to think it was going to be pushed up into my bra to give me a decent pair of boobs, but alas no. It actually does two things – neither of which is the slightest bit helpful. The flab squeezed up and out of the top of the knickers settles in a roll just below my bra, making me look like Hattie Jacques in Carry on Matron. The flab squeezed down and out of the bottom of the knickers settles in a roll across my thighs, making me look like a Russian shot putter that’s gone to seed.
The overall look is of a doughnut with an elastic band round its middle.
Not a look I’ll be chasing anymore. In future, if I’m feeling a little queasy at the end of a girls’ night out, I’ll have to come up with another excuse for the cause of it.
I clean my house from top to bottom once a week. It should take me – at most – a morning. How long does it actually take me? A full day.
Why? Because every time I go into a bedroom I have to flop onto the bed and have a loll.
It’s not a choice – it’s a fundamental necessity. I have tried resisting the urge, but what harm am I doing?
Yesterday was no different. Made it as far as first child’s bedroom and that was that. Once I’d flopped I realised I felt rather tired, so turned over – quite happily – to have a snooze. Quite happily that is until my stomach flopped over with me, and requested that I move up as it didn’t have enough room.
Quickly got up and decided to get on with the cleaning. Think from now on it will only take me a morning.
My body seems to have made a rather distressing development.
If I bend over, while wearing tracksuit bottoms, my stomach flab flops over the top of my knickers and starts to roll them down.
This is very depressing in the house. It’s extremely alarming in the supermarket.
Clearly I need to stop wearing tracksuit bottoms…