And this trollop thought SHE had problems...

After totally abandoning my gym regime (and therefore my very little outfits that left very little to the imagine) I decided to get my body and confidence back in shape. My confidence had obviously not taken THAT much of a hit as after a couple work outs, I was rocking a vintage crop jacket, bare chested, mid drift in full view and quite happily shacking out in middle of a club full of hot guys. The outfit may not quite have hooked the future husband, but it definitely caught the eye of a certain indulgent I liked. (Watch this space!)
The next day, I geared up, hopped on and went cycling – for the first time in YEARS. It was like watching Bambi walk for the first time. Stabilizers definitely wouldn’t have hurt. For a start I was hardly in exercise attire: Pyjama bottoms & this season’s Versace flat cap (which the wind tried to steal like Bridget Jones at EVERY opportunity). Then after nearly being hit by a fire truck full of London’s finest firemen – and coming within inches of a crappy fiat (and my life!!) Cut to me screeching like the woman from Psycho.

When I managed to pull myself together, and continue with what composure I had left. I feel a little flem… Wait, nope, too chewy for flem. Fuck me sidewards it was a FLY! My, Oh My, I was literally the old lady that swallowed a fly. I actually thought bugs shacking out in people’s tracheas was an urban myth. So after looking like I’d just sucked a lemon, I spat the bitch out (so much for composure) before skidding against the curb and face diving towards the pavement. All in front of the fifty gazillion heckling cars halted on the high street, including the fire-engine.

So I’m guessing that after nearly running me over, seeing me choke on my own terrified screams (i.e. Sinitta in I’m a Celebrity), and locking lips with the gutter, the steamy firemen weren’t rushing to the poor little gay boys aid. I wasn’t wrong. Probably for the best, cut to me being swept up into the thick arms of a fireman, smiling, with antennas and wings stuck between my teeth. And herein lies the problem, I wanted to BE the bike, not be on it.