Avast behind!

Girls, girls! What are you doing to yourselves? When I were nobbut a lad, sights like this were so rare we could afford to joke about them. Now, it's no laughing matter. Mountains of wobbling flesh are everywhere. Quivering acres of flab are changing the nation's scenery for the worse.

I'd previously thought that Skegness was full of them only because it's flat terrain and attracts the sort of holidaymakers who get turned away from airlines on safety grounds. But for reasons not worth going into, I was in Warrington at the weekend and they're stiff with them there, too. So at a service station on the way back, I did a scientific countup and found that less than 4% of the whole female clientele was decently svelte. Then, this morning it turned personal. I was lectured on my (barely discernible) cholesterol level by a nurse whose uniform was straining at the seams. Well, OK, she droned on about my smoking as well but it all seemed so offputting knowing it was coming from somebody who can't shave her own legs without using a mirror.

I blame the Government. Obesity has only become so widespread in the last three years, since it started lecturing everybody about getting fatal diseases from overeating. Now it's pretty much the norm. It does prove that TV programmes by that woman who makes people cry and inspects their faeces have no effect, though, which is a slightly positive note.

Fortunately, Mme. gets more willowy by the day so is immune from criticism. Her sister says it's because of the stress of having to live with me but I've never believed what she says about anything since she tried to sell me a time-share in Croatia.