Hey Fatty Boom Boom

Well it’s official. My 11 days in an all-inclusive paradise has resulted in me being the combined weight of Barry White and Demis Roussos. These guys may have been morbidly obese but at least they could hold a note. The only thing I can hold is several large chicken kebabs simultaneously. I swore an oath to myself that I would not become a stereotypical Englishman abroad at an all-inclusive establishment and eat my bodyweight every half an hour. So much for broken promises, I am eating like a condemned man who has been given the dubious request of having anything he wants for his last meal before being strapped to the Electric Chair and cooked himself. You see these US prison documentaries where the killer – who has normally murdered his whole family and some – always seem to have the same dietary requirements. It’s a variation on burgers, fries, fried chicken, steak, washed down with coke (personally, I would politely ask for a triple rum with the coke considering the circumstances) and an ice-cream dessert. For me the only thing that’s condemned is my waistline. I soon won’t be able to fit into any chair electric or otherwise if I don’t rein in my elephantine appetite. Roll on Friday when I return. It’s Slimfast, Ryvita biscuits and stomach crunches for the rest of the year.