Gravity

I am losing the battle of the bulge as middle aged spread is defining gravity instead of defying it and by darn accepting gravity as I grow outwards and downwards simultaneously. Where is the new Einstein when an apple is about to fall from a tree to re-define a theory. Probably looking at his mate - a chubby falla called Newton surrounded by dozen apple cores ...

I refuse to accept two chins are better than one, except for dinner for two and the calorie count can face the exercise bike tomorrow.

The Executive gym was advertised, was displayed in full glare of a website and when tomorrow comes the bicycle strap is broken, the whattismacall creaks more than my aged bones, friction resistance is guaranteed by rust. This time the carbohydate burn is going only slightly warm as blood boils. Fitness will have to wait.

Pass me the salad with all its little local germs. Pass me the toilet papaer as the biological meltdown of the stomach intestinal traffic goes supersonic. Gravity appears to work here too.