Poor Rob. Never mind that he writes a mighty fine blog. Never mind that he’s got himself an awesome book deal. What he does mind (a lot) is that some pikey-ex of his is putting it round the internet that he’s fat. And apparently he’s not. He’s a veritable man-mountain; he’s a brick shithouse but he’s not fat.
But if he was he could blame it on a virus. It’s true, it really is. I read it in the Sunday Times and I got it here.
Being fat has got nothing to do with glands, genes, or gluttony. You catch it like the common cold. It’s an illness! It’s an epidemic!
But. Twenty doesn’t agree. And when I have a think about it I don’t agree either. The simple reason is that all the fat people I know, including myself, do like to eat a lot. And that all the very fat people I know eat a hell of a lot and don’t shift themselves that much.
So I shan’t blame a virus for my being as fat as a fool, or as Bert so sweetly puts it, ‘a fat wee fucker.’