Ladies Who Lunch.

I am carrying a few extra pounds. I admit it. Hands up. You've got me there. However, to the annoyance of the media and the advertising industry, I don't mind. I'm happy with the way I am. If I should want to lose weight in future then I shall, but gaining a personality or happiness would be a lot harder to do.
I wasn't always overweight. I used to workout every day, run 3 miles every night and weight train twice a week. The pressures of work, however, gradually soaked up my excess energy and my fitness regime declined accordingly. Now I am at a stage where I don't think I've seen my penis looking down from a standing position since 1997..........but, as I said, I don't care. I don't go down there that often, anyway. The view is not, I imagine, breathtaking. It is for others to lap up.
Nearly all women, on the other hand, are obsessed by their weight. There are miriad reasons why but that is for another time. Suffice to say that they just are and, as a result, are continually on fucking diets or moaning about their size.
Why then do they eat the way they do? Do you want to know why many women might just be a tad over a Size Zero? Well, just go into a pub or restaurant at lunchtime and observe. I was in a boozer today, sitting opposite a group of four evidently retired guys who shared just one bowl of chips as they chatted about the meaning of life, the universe and everything. Then, two women of about the same age as me came in. They sat equally nearby and one ordered a diet bitter lemon while the other opted for a mineral water to drink. Healthy and weight conscious, eh? They also launched into a massive chat about how they had signed up to new gyms and were working out every night after work. They even demonstrated the kinds of exercises they did by waving their arms about - it looked like two deaf people having a row!
They obviously felt they were being good girls by having such slimline drinks to accompany their evening workouts. Then the food they had ordered arrived. Jesus H Christ!! It took four of the bar staff to fucking carry it over!!! Their table was full to bursting by the time the last plate was placed before them. There were chips, beans, jacket potatoes, chunks of lasagne, chops, sausages and loads more besides piled up in Desperate Dan-style food mountains.

What is the bloody point of ordering a diet bitter lemon and then devouring Venezuela's entire calorific intake for a fortnight? Why bloody moan about your weight if you eat like a pig? Why suspect you might have some glandular disorder when you scoff your own bodyweight in food every lunch?

Women's eating habits never cease to amaze me. Ever been to a hotel with your wife or some other female and sat down to breakfast with her? She orders the smoked haddock, a croissant and a glass of mineral water to keep in line with her latest diet while you, obviously, opt for the Feeding Frenzy For Six fry-up. What does she do then? Yes, she starts with the "Oh, can I just have one of your sausages.....and some black pudding.....and a few beans.........Oh, and some of that bacon, it looks lovely" routine. By the end of the meal she is prepared to stab your hand with her fork if you dare reach for the last piece of toast!
They always want what you've got, food-wise, and they always want to eat. I mean, I can go days without eating so much as a single Rice Crispie. Admittedly, when I do break my fast I invariably eat half a cow and then lie under a rock to sleep it off, like some sort of fat, ugly snake. If a woman goes more than two hours without cramming some sort of food into her mouth she gets hypertense!
Women also love biscuits and cakes and cream and sweets and all that crap us blokes abandoned as kids in favour of alcohol, smelly cheese, and more alcohol. There is one false idol, however, they truly worship - chocolate! What's that all about? It rots your teeth and makes you throw up eventually - it's like kissing a tramp. Not ideal fare for keeping your weight down.
No, women's eating habits can go to Grantham.