I am not exactly mad about watching films these days, probably because I have the attention span of a goldfish. It usually means that it takes me a year or three to watch something after it is first released. (That’s why I haven’t seen The Girl On The Train yet and – oh never mind.) Last night I tried to watch The Wolf of Wall Street. I managed about an hour of it. I even broke my rule and ate chocolate to try and enhance the experience. It just seemed to be a constant blast of sex, drugs, violence, orgies and greed. Frightening to think it is based on true life. So I gave up and watched Call The Midwife, much easier to watch.
Eating the Sunday night chocolate seems to have added about a kilo to my weight. I knew I should not have succumbed to temptation. I blame Paul (he gets the blame for everything).
“I could kill a bar of chocolate.”
“Well have one then.”
“I won’t be able to get into my cycling shorts.”
“Don’t worry, they’re elasticated.”