From Mr The Rake:
About ten minutes ago, Kate made a facetious comment about us having a “lifestyle-off”. When my response to this was “mine’s better”, she told me to prove it. This is a totally fucked up reversal, since I’m supposed to be the lawyer and Kate’s supposed to be the dirty hippy. Pardon my swearing; I’m also trying to demonstrate to Kate that my brand of humour is totally unsuitable for her blog. I don’t think she knows how many jokes about Michael Jackson I took out of the last post. AIDS tree.
Anyhoo, my lifestyle is awesome. My average day starts at 6:35 am, when I get up to go to work. Getting up early is awful and it should be illegal, but starting off in such a shit way means that the day can only get better from there, even if I find a dead clown at the bottom of the driveway again. On the weekends I don’t have to get up early, so I set my alarm for hahaha you have to be fucking kidding o’clock. The clowns have been cleared away by then. I think I live in a bad neighbourhood. I don’t know where I am going with any of this.
I always skip breakfast because food is for the weak. After I’ve jumped into my suit and run (metaphorically; running sucks) into the city, I smash out a day’s hard work in the law mines. I work best in manic bursts, kind of like how Hunter S. Thompson would if he had been fuelled by Coke Zero, chicken burgers and Caramello Koalas instead of drugs and more drugs and more drugs.
When I get home I do something fun – watch TV, read a book, figure out the Unified Theory of Everything and then forget it because I got distracted by the sheer number of 10 year olds who play Xbox Live and have, according to them, had sex with my mother – to kill a couple of hours. At some point I might cook something comprised
substantially primarily exclusively of meat, or just order a pizza because frankly my time is more valuable than the price of pizza, or would be if I used it for anything useful.
Later in the evening I drink half a bottle of single-malt reality improving juice, say my evening prayers (Eastern Orthodox Satanist), get the guitar out and play some songs that I don’t remember but I can only assume include a flawless rendition of Megadeth’s Hangar 18, and then pass out ready to do it all again the next day.
All of this makes me a pretty fantastic role model, which makes it puzzling that Kate voluntarily lives like a peasant in the Dark Ages. She gets up at first light to subject herself to levels of physical exertion that would be considered torture in most civilised societies, even on weekends, especially on weekends. She eats very little that I wouldn’t feed to a rabbit, barely partakes of delicious, flammable make-everyone-else-slightly-more-tolerable juice, and perhaps worst of all, listens to Flo Rida (which again, counts as torture when the CIA does it to someone).
It’s honestly baffling that Kate thinks she leads the better lifestyle. Oh, yeah, cool, it’s natural and you feel great. You know what else is natural? Intestinal worms. Stop being a goddamn hipster; life is not better because you intentionally make it suck. Get off my lawn. YOLO.
Loving my cruel other half?
Check out his last post - Why you will Die Alone
Or the interview – Mr The Rake’s Views on Exercise