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Showing posts from May, 2004

Fat People of Britain: put down the fork.

So the government is worried about rising levels of obesity amongst the british populace. The tabloids carry stories of a girl as young as three dying due to her obesity. Britain gets ever lardier, waistlines going up in direct relation to the nation's hospital beds filling up with groaning, wobbly heart disease cases. Clearly Something Must Be Done. Clearly it is the fault of the evil pernicious food industry sneaking extra calories into their products, it's probably a terrorist plot or something. Failing that, it's the government's fault. Anyone's fault other than... Yes, fatty, your fucking fault. You choose what you put in your mouth. Nobody else. Parents! If your child is fat it's YOUR FAULT. But this ready meal is so high in salt and saturated fats! you cry. Who bought it? Eh? But my child doesn't like food that's good for them! Bullshit. Growing up I simply had a smaller portion of what my parents ate. In this way I developed a palate which mea

Families, eh?

Well that was a great deal of fun. Nan's ninetieth passed off ery well, I'm pleased to say, and the lady in question was somewhat overwhelmed emotionally. I, of course, merely had a speck of dust in my eye. It's odd, as I rarely think of myself as being a family oriented person. I'm fairly isolated from them all here in Lancashire, and weeks will go past where I have no contact with parents or siblings, let alone aunties and cousins (I do try to make an effort to write semi-regularly to Nan, as the matriarch of the family it seems the only respectful thing to do; plus it assuages my conscience somewhat when my behaviour has perhaps not been of the highest), yet seeing everyone again was, well, kinda good. Not just that my uncle John looks so like me it's a bit spooky, not just that, at ninety my Nan looks in better nick than she did when she was seventy-five (sporting a natty pair of pinstripe trousers that some of the twentysomething ladies present looked at w


Right then, I have time now. So, to recap: Matt has no internet for an extended period of time. During this time Matt does several exciting things. Playing geetar in a wild and incoherent fashion for Porl, which I'd been dying to do and which was pushing the most fun I've ever had. Tick off another box on the mental checklist (only to discover that a number of other boxes have mysteriously appeared). Discovering that I'm going to be reading on the radio next month (radio Merseyside no less, does my fame know NO BOUNDS? The upside is that I will then be able to state without fear of contradiction that I have broadcast for the BBC) and, perhaps best of all, taking delivery of an industrial quantity of recreation, leading to many hours spent looking out of my window in a vague good mood. Furthermore this weekend I shall be off down south for my Nan's surprise 90th birthday party (cue a slew of lame "don't surprise her too much" jokes). This is a Good