Atkins My Arse

And of course that would be my diminishing arse. It is still a considerable bum of course and there is no danger of overhearing anyone saying anytime soon, “Nelly’s trousers look as if her arse has fainted.” Those of you skilled at reading between the lines may have noticed that I am doing the healthy eating and walking thing. And three cheers for me that I have not been using my blog as a platform from which to bore you all rigid with the day-to-day details of this. But I do feel it is time for a bit of a progress report. You’ll be wanting to know what weight I am now. Won’t you? No? Oh go on, you do so. TRUMPET FANFARE I now weigh – now where did I put those scales. Oh yes. I remember now. I threw them away 6 months ago. I don’t know what I weigh. I probably weigh more than Bert, definitely less than Ploppy Pants. BEST DIET BOOK I Can Make You Thin by Paul McKenna. He probably could too if he locked you in a shed and fed you bread and water for six months. But even though he, like the rest of them, is a lying toad, his book does contain some kernels of truth.

• Eat

• Don’t overeat

• Move about a bit more

• And don’t expect instant results.

CONFUSION All these different diets are a complete load of bollix. You know that. One says eat 15 times a day, another says eat once a day. One says eat no fat, another eat no lean. All bollix. All you have to do is stop eating stuff you don’t need and move about a bit more. POKING THROUGH KEEK Gillian McKeith! Put that turd down right now. I have only one piece of advice to give you about keek and it involves pumpkin seeds. Chew them thoroughly. You have been warned. They’re not like sweetcorn. They’re hard. THE END RESULT People - there is no end result. Eating properly and taking a bit of exercise is forever. I’m still a bit of a pudding but I’m getting to be a healthier one. The walking has increased my suppleness. I can climb gates with ease now. I’ve got a belly but it’s a singular belly and wonderfully my feet have got thinner. Most mornings I lie in bed for a while admiring my slender feet and I’ve even started painting my toenails. Many shirts and blouses have been brought from the back of the wardrobe to be worn again and all my waistbands have got roomier. Some have gotten fall down roomy and might have to be recycled but that’s no bad thing. So if you’re ever passing through Cully I’m the one with the skinny feet, pulling up the baggy trousers and with a knife between my teeth.