My Morning Routine

Are you aware of mymorningroutine.com? It’s a fascinating, inspiring site where a series of American high achievers tell us in valuably excruciating detail what they do in the morning to be so fucking amazing.

Do yourself a favour and take a look.

Of course, as a high achiever myself, you probably want to know what I get up to in the mornings. So I thought I’d write my own ‘My Morning Routine’, ready for when they inevitably ask.

It uses the stock set of questions they use on the site. I hope it helps you in your own quest to begin the day like a champion, ie, me.

 

What is your morning routine?

I wake without an alarm at 5am. I immediately drink a glass of water with a squeeze of lemon, some chia seeds and four fingers of scotch. Then I ask the hooker to fuck off.

Within 4 hours, I am up, though I always allow myself 15 minutes before I rise to be grateful, to set my agenda for the day, and to sob relentlessly in vast silent gulps as the darkness in my soul taunts me without remorse.

Once up, I begin my workout routine: gripping the seat of my toilet as tight as I can for 15 reps every minute, or whatever coincides with the explosive bouts of volcanic diarrhoea that rip out of me like jets of pure hate.

Once that’s done, I take a shower hot enough to lift the skin from my bones (but never, it seems, hot enough to make me truly clean).

Recently, I began experimenting with a form of Taoist meditation, but I ended up realising that it was absolute fucking garbage. So I went back to power shower choke wanking.

How long have you stuck with the routine so far?

Since I was 7.

Has your routine changed over recent years.

Only since I discovered power shower choke wanking.

Do you do anything before you go to bed to make your morning easier?

I stop at the fourth bottle of claret ‘n’ WKD and limit myself to one hooker or two masseuses (who I find I can get through quicker than a hooker). I’ve learned that this reduces the night terrors substantially.

Do you use an alarm to wake you up in the morning, and if so do you ever hit the snooze button?

Fuck off. You snooze, you lose. Also, my fine motor skills aren’t developed enough in the morning to actually hit a snooze button.

How soon after waking up do you have breakfast, and what do you typically have?

I don’t like to eat until around 11am, because up to then I’m usually dry-heaving or crying with regret. When my appetite awakens, though, I hit it with my own smoothie recipe. Take two double bacon and egg McMuffins, a pint of cider, seven eggs, a string of Cumberland sausages, three pints of milk, eight Cheese Strings, four KitKats, a handful of Tangfastics and a large pork pie. Blend. Drink.

Don’t try it, though. It’s dangerously powerful. I made it for a colleague once and his heart stopped beating. In fact, his heart still isn’t beating, and this was three years ago. Basically, his heart stopped and didn’t start again. Essentially, he died.

Do you have a morning workout routine?

Grasping the toilet while I shit, like an Astronaut holding on during re-entry, is all I need. Gyms are for the mentally weak / cunts.

Do you have a morning meditation routine?

No. I’m British.

How does your partner fit into your morning routine?

She’ll have been asked to fuck off before it begins, so not at all. And anyway, she’s a different one every time, often with a shaky grasp of English and keen to get to the next client so she can earn money for her pimp and maybe escape the modern slavery she finds herself in. In short, it’s a win-win.

Do you also follow this routine on weekends, or do you change some steps?

I don’t stop at the fourth bottle of claret ‘n’ WKD and I don’t stop at the first hooker. Inevitably, that means I wake a little later – usually around 9.30pm on Sunday.

What do you do if you fail your morning routine, and how does it impact on the rest of your day?

Put it this way. Once, I went to bed at 10pm, sober, and slept for eight hours. I dreamt with remarkable clarity and awoke fresh, invigorated, focused and ready for work. It was fucking horrible. I had to spend the next week at a South London sex dungeon having moonshine injected up my a-pipe and crack cocaine poured into my cockhole. Never, ever again. (The eight-hours-of-sleep thing.)

Anything else you’d like to add?

Anyone who reads this far into your articles is clearly a fucking sociopath or unemployed, so nah.

 

There you have it, my friends. Don’t steal any element of my morning routine for yourselves, though. I’m an incredible machine and I need this kind of jet fuel to start my day.

Why? Because I AM THE PLANNER!

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