So I was on a train. No scrap that. I was waiting at a train station. For ages. So I went into the cafe and bought some foodstuffs. I was hungry but they only let you get stuff on your debit card if you spent £5 so in order to make up the total I bought one of these celebrity moron magazines*. As I ate my food I flicked through it and spotted a silly diet plan. Some celebrity had put their name to it. It was a detox thing.
I wondered to myself if anyone ever actually put these diet plans into action. It looked so simple and promised so much. After yesterday's debacle on the toilet I'd become a bit paranoid about my weight**. I decided to take the magazine with me onto the train just in case I decided to follow... The Carol Vorderman 14 Day Detox Diet!
It'd worked for Carol. Surely it'd work for me. She'd condensed her secrets into one detox diet all for me. Brilliant. Or not. I had a niggling thought that I was being taken for a fool somehow. I imagined the fat stupid women who followed this sort of diet. I laughed at their pathetic nature and then remembered that particular herd also contained me.
On the train I noticed a woman sitting opposite me. She was clearly bored so I offered her the magazine. It was a close call, as in my embarrasment at owning the thing I almost said; "Want to borrow this magazine? It's not the sort of thing I usually read I was just upping my total on the 'till. I'm not saying it's the sort of thing you read. You look a bit scratty and stupid but I'm not rude enough to assume this is true of your mind. Oh shiv. Sorry. Don't cry, I just. Ruined." Fortunately my filter is improving and I only said the first sentence. To be honest I was so embarrased at owning the magazine I'd probably have been more comfortable with a soft porn mag in my hands. At least I could pass it off as an ironic statement. A celebrity moron mag has no duality of meaning.
When I got where I was going and actually looked practically at doing this diet I realised it was hideously complex and involved lots of cooking and no meat. It was also, in my opinion, a bit #hit.
This means that I'm no longer in the herd of desperate fatties who cling to a Countdown TV presenter's dietry advice. They've left me behind.
I'm not sure this is a good thing.
*Not one published by EMAP magazines. Erm, in fact that's obvious because EMAP magazines don't publish anything other than great magazines. Anyone who says I said any different will have to prove it in court.
**This toilet was tricky for me to use. Perhaps not the toilet's fault but the fault of my fat body? I'd imagine a standard toilet would be a bit tricky to negotiate if you were a sumo wrestler. Am I getting to that point?