Well, at least I’m bang on trend. There’s BoJo urging us overweighters to lose five pounds in a bid to save the NHS a whopping £100 million over the next five years, as he launches his Better Health Campaign.
I’ve bloomin’ well already done it, with maybe a pucklie mair pounds to offer our great leader by next week.
Do I feel prood? Nae really, the up-and-downy way my diet’s been goin’ over the last two months, I’ve every chunce of puttin’ on tomorrow exactly what I lost yesterday – without the foggiest notion why.
Besides, the PM’s new push for slimline fitness is masterminded by Public Health England. In other words, it’s directed at Sassenach blobbies.
Mo…reen! Racist and Fattist. In my defence: surely Scotland is already way in the lead with some of the measures newly unveiled for England, like tempting shoppers with unhealthy treats at the checkout tills?
We did that years ago, as well as banning super-cheap, super-potent booze. Holyrood: tick, tick.
And why does no one these days ever dare utter that three-letter word, fat? Is “obese”, especially morbidly, less offensive? Don’t think so.
As a champion chubby masellie (ie won’t disclose how much I really, really should lose until I’ve lost it), I’d rather be described as plain and simple F-A-T.
After all, it’s a good Anglo-Saxon word for which there’s been no objection down through centuries of the English language.
I may be wrong, but oor magnificent Doric hasn’t even come up with a really coothie alternative.
So why in the name of all that’s politically correct is it now verboten from our speech?
Mind you, even Scottish dieters would still welcome any help we can get.
Boris reckons banning junk food advertising until after 9pm could have a major impact on our bloated bods.
Scyooze me? I’m OK – and feeling pretty self-righteous – earlier in the evening, after I’ve nibbled my 6pm avocado and egg salad, minus dressing, minus salt, minus taste. Minus onything!
Then, as ordered by all the slimming gurus, I attempt to swoosh gallons of water doon my thrapple, the aim presumably being to tiddle it a’ oot during the night, until I stand on the scales the next morning, magnificently de-flushed and de-ounced.
But we all know it doesn’t work that way. By 9pm, my whole mindset is on a different planet.
Utterly ravishing (as my mum used to say) with nothing in my belly but a sprinkling of greenery and half the Bon Accord baths, whatever comes on telly has me gaspin’ for something to eat. Even if it’s just an ad for Colgate’s.
Show me a Domino’s Pizza promo and no, I’m not sending out for one (not that much of a glutton – yet) but, within seconds – and before you can say: “Fit aboot the diet?” – I’m up and into the kitchen making my own cheesie toastie(s) slavered in Red Leicester, bacon and chilli sauce, (go on, you know you want one).
Calorie count? In the billions? So Boris. Forget the 9pm junk-food deadline. Just ban them all full-time.
To help fatsos like me.
Will Posh crack a smile at son’s high society wedding?
Have you got your save-the-date card yet? Me neither, but dootless it will arrive any day.
I mean to next year’s wedding of the year – 21-year-old Brooklyn Beckham to four-years-older model Nicola Peltz.
Apparently top of the guest list are Prince Harry and Meghan, close to becoming THE people to invite in Hollywood high society. Oor peer Queen must be cock-a-hoop about that.
Canna wait to see the other glittering stars on the wedding list. Or the venue. Or David’s new hairstyle and Victoria’s outfit. But, ticky-bets, she won’t crack a smile the whole day.
Spain may be least of our worries
More affa news for prospective holidaymakers as the Government announced – at the very last moment – a 14-day quarantine for anyone coming back from Spain. Fit a nightmare.
I know a couple who left for Alicante the day before the announcement, en route to maybe buying themsellies a villa in Benidorm (Here’s me: “Greeeat idea! I’d just love to see it some time!”) Who knows when we’ll see them again.
The irony is that GB has a worse virus infection rate than anywhere else in Europe. There’s been a spike in parts of the Spanish mainland, but top holiday spots like Mallorca, Ibiza and Tenerife have a tiny fraction of cases.
So why the blanket ban? Yet another example of the Johnson Government making the wrong decision at the worst time.
And what are we to make of predictions there could be a second wave of Covid-19 within a couple of weeks?
A new lockdown? All the bars and restaurants that have recently opened will have to shut again? Will pupils go back to school?
However, as I write, Scotland seems to be hugely more in control of the virus than England. Instead of quarantining holidaymakers coming back from Spain, wouldn’t it make more sense to close the Scottish border and ban any English from travelling north and potentially infecting us?
This article originally appeared on the Evening Express website. For more information, read about our new combined website.