Fat girls

Obesity. There’s a fat word. That big round ‘Ooh’ at the beginning, and then the ‘bee’ which actually looks like the sort of people the word is describing in profile. The only way the word could better describe the condition was if it was longer and had an ‘oom-pah’ sound in the middle of it. In reality, this is not needed, as most people using the term ‘Obese’ follow through with the silent action of puffing their cheeks out like a startled fish and holding their hands two feet from their hips.

The newspapers recently made much of a decision by some school somewhere (I suspect the journalist was little better informed than I) to ensure that the word ‘Obese’ did not appear on any kids’ school report. This is, to a certain extent, a sensible move. After all, any parent irresponsible enough to let their kid get so fat that his size is appearing on a school report is unlikely to know what a word means; so better leave it at ‘tubby’ and move on. The question might well be; ‘what is a reference to the size of little Johnny’s arse doing on a school report in the first place?’.

Only two subjects have any real reason for addressing the subject, the first is physical fitness, where, let’s face it, anyone unable to commit themselves to playing football in blizzards, go into crunching rugby tackles with kids twice their size and three times their age, get to the top of the rope in the gym in under five seconds and achieve marksman standards of flicking arse with a wet towel is considered a ulist.

The second subject is home economics, where the report might explain that eating everyone else’s homework is unacceptable.

Why is size an issue? Unless the kid is actually so fat that his classmates can’t see round him to see the blackboard, or his mass has become a nuisance by attracting small objects into his orbit, then I don’t think a school report is the right place to inform parents that their kid is a fattie. This will already have been done in the caring environment of the school playground, where a (wide) circle of taunting kids will be chanting ‘porker’ around some quivering wretch. What the school, the parents and the fattie himself are unaware of is that these taunting kids are actually sponsored by the local corner shop in the sure knowledge that the kid will comfort eat his way through a dozen curlywurleys to get over this, thus assuring a healthy profit for the week.

A bigger problem than fat kids are fat adults. That’s because, with fat adults, there’s no chanting circle of evil sods to tell you you’re fat – unless you’re a fat bloke. That leaves the problem of fat girls, where, without honest friends, the only signs of your size being a problem are the lack of a boyfriend and the fact you own all of ‘Sex and the City’ on VHS and DVD. And a three figure weekly grocery bill.

That’s because, unlike fat kids and their school reports, taunting and ritual humiliation by sadistic gym teachers, nobody is telling fat people that they are fat anymore. Fat people are being told that being fat is normal. This has led to fat girls dressing like thin girls…with disastrous results. It used to be that to be an evil genius, you had to live in an undersea volcano base and plot to destroy New York with a giant robot or something. Now to be an evil genius all you need to do is design hipster jeans for fat girls. These, worn in combination with a tee shirt, are truly a sight to behold.

You want to know when you’re fat? It’s when people start using your arse as a landmark; ‘yes, carry on, take a left at the Red Lion, then a right at that girl’s arse, then you can’t miss it’. Oddly, this means that fat people are more useful than thin people, who are mainly used as warnings of what happens when you go vegetarian.

Worried you’re fat? Try Google Earth. On it? Start slimming. Fatty.

Back to school with Dr Atkins

The Atkins diet has come to Macnabbs Mansions. It’s like hell for vegetarians in the kitchen at the moment, the fridge bursting with not just meat of many kinds but eggs and cheese as well. Deliveries of the stuff are now made by Lancaster Bomber dropping cows into the back garden.

I, however, am not on the Atkins. Instead I’m showing support by helping out on the consumption of meaty stuff, but either served in a bap or with chips on the side - the Atkins with carbs…essentially the Fatkins diet.

The Atkins is the perfect diet for lazy sods. Eat as much as you like and take no exercise whatsoever. The only sacrifice you have to make is that you can’t have carbohydrates. These apparently exist in far many more foods than you could possibly imagine. Bananas for instance. Bananas are bad for you when you’re on the Atkins. Fruit, bad for you, when on a diet. Something tells me that the small print at the back of the diet books shows that the research was funded by the national associations of master butchers, hog breeders and cow-pokers.

With madness such as this being accepted as a ‘diet’, it’s little wonder that this week it was revealed that a lot of kids have stopped eating school meals now that a healthier diet has been introduced. I’m not intimating that the media is owned by the same vile corporations that own the sort of food outlets that have to give you a toy to convince you to buy food there, but surely the story is not that a few thousand chavs are not now having school dinners but rather that millions of kids are now enjoying a healthier diet.

I mean, genuinely, what sort of thick-as-shit parent is going to let their kid bunk off school meals in order to go down town and get a burger? - because it’s sure as hell not one who’s going to provide a packed lunch, unless that packed lunch is packed by somebody else, such as a spotty youth in a fast-food place. Kids go back to school today and, frankly, after seeing some of the chip-guzzling, lard-arsed, lank-haired, dead-eyed fag-sucking trolls* that squeeze themselves into their full-to-bursting leggings, it’s no bloody wonder that they don’t worry about their kids diet - it looks like the only time they break a sweat is when they are confronted by salad.

Food is a subject close to my heart - increasingly so as my diet lays down the fatty deposits on my arteries, and I’ve been eating long enough to be suspicious of anyone who thinks that a skinny body lies at the bottom of a plate of sausages. The only thing you’re going to make skinny eating sausages is the pig you get the pork from.

* I’m not kidding, they look like they should be spending their time lurking under bridges and subsisting on an all-goat diet