Remember that TV documentary about liposuction ? All those disgusting, greasy, yellow dollops of fat they removed? Remember when Vanessa Feltz suddenly slimmed down by a ton or two? Remember when you yourself lost that fifteen pounds last summer?
Clearing Fat from Sewers
Where do you think all the lost fat went?
Perhaps you thought you sweated it out, and it just evaporated into the air. Or perhaps you imagined the Feltz household having cupboards filled with fat. Or the liposuction clinic possibly shipping all the yellow stuff to China, where they add whitener and sell it back to us as packaged lard.
Guess again…
This is the sewer running under Leicester Square, where Thames Water have been busy clearing the build-up of fat. One thousand tonnes of it. Enough to fill nine whole double-decker buses. Though the Daily Moaner understands there are no current plans to do this.
See that bit right on top of the shovel? The bit that’s glistening? That’s your fifteen pounds. That used to be your belly. Or maybe your arse. Think how much happier you were when you had it… okay, so you were more — comfy — then, but you didn’t have to watch what you ate and count every bloody calorie. But now… think about it… you can have it back if you want. Just ask Thames Water nicely.
Disclaimer: The Daily Moaner couldn’t be arsed to research this story properly. There is just an outside chance that all that fat isn’t your personal lost poundage at all, but may be down to the fat products you poured down the sink. Either way, it’s your fault.
What are Thames Water going to do with it? We don’t know. But maybe they do ship it to China, where they add whitener to it and sell it back to us as packaged lard. Who knows?
Regular readers will know that the Daily Moaner is not a fan of cutesy little kittens who can’t spell on the internet, as we said here. Although we did show readers how to wrap a cat for Christmas, but that was just so it could be posted abroad somewhere — anywhere — with no return address.
But now there is good news for all internet cat-haters — an Italian TV chef has recommended eating these over-cute fuzzy fur-balls. Hooray for Beppe Bigazzi, who is 77 and too old to give a damn what people think. Beppe told viewers that cat was “Better than chicken, rabbit or pigeon “, and that cat casserole was a favourite dish in his home region. Mmmmm — yummy!
The whole of Italy immediately exploded in incandescent rage, with people waving their hands about as they talked, arguing whether the cats should be soaked in spring-water for three days, as Beppe advocated, and how much garlic was needed to ward off the evil spirits.
Meanwhile, for those of you who can never quite get enough pussy… Back in 1931, Harry Roy and his Bat Club Boys were recording a cheerful little ditty called “My Girl’s Pussy”, which you can hear by visiting the Internet Archive here, and clicking on “Stream”.
To the right, a picture of the girl in question, plus the pussy in question.
Any questions?
Two sets of figures collide today in a startling vindication of Darwin’s theories.
Does My Bum Look Big in This?
Ten years from now (in 2020 for those who failed maths) 81% of us guys will be waddling buckets of lard, wedged permanently into our chairs by the arse. A further 68% of women will be asking “Does my bum look big in this ?” when modelling sofas.
At the same time, unemployment is rising in our tiny island. Add together those actually out of work (2.6 million ) and those working less hours than they want (2.8 million ), and you get – let’s not always see the same hands go up. Yes, you get 5.4 million and rising.
Now, follow the Daily Moaner’s logic closely. Overweight and obese people need an ever-growing supply of cream cakes, jelly etc etc, to maintain their vast wobbling behinds. The strain on Tesco’s will be enormous. Simultaneously, a smaller working population is supporting this growing mass of protoplasm, working longer and longer hours to pay off all Gordon’s stealth taxes. As time goes on, a larger proportion of the food supply will go to the obese and retired, leaving the workers too weak to continue.
At this point, these two sets of data having reached critical mass, an enormous social explosion will occur, and everyone will die from heart attacks brought on by diabetes, lack of ability to reproduce (too fat to fuck), or sheer overwork.
Natural selection in living colour. Darwin was right . This is how the dinosaurs died.
Good news recently from the US — Americans have stopped getting fatter. Or rather, they are still becoming fatter, but at a slower rate.
A huge shower of statistics from the Centres Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, shows that the number of lard bags fatties obese people is levelling off at a third of the adult population. Roly-poly kids are about a sixth. No figures available for cats and dogs.
Several people have exploded without warning recently, as they waddled along the pavement — sorry, sidewalk. And there have been isolated examples of spontaneous combustion, when one Heart-Attack burger too many has triggered a meltdown of subcutaneous body-fat. Okay, we made that up, but it could happen at any moment.
In some areas of the country, the air alone is 14 calories per lungful.
The UK isn’t lagging far behind. And the Daily Moaner… is on a diet.
Former useless wanker postman Alan Johnson, our hapless Home Secretary, has been babbling pompously to the Beeb about a “raft” of new measures, which will be approved by the spineless puppets of Parliament (if they know what’s good for them!) later this year.
We Have a Winner!
Among the sooper-dooper new rules is one to ban drinking contests, which up till now we all had the freedom to decide for ourselves. This is a feeble attempt to “tackle Britain’s boozy culture”. Every hour of every day, young people are engaging in speed-drinking bouts, during which they averagely consume a week’s alcohol in seven minutes, after which they fornicate with each other for three hours non-stop. Ah to be young again!
Liam Donaldson, our soon-to-step-down Chief Medic, reckons it would cut crime by 45,000 crimes a year, and reduce annual hospital admissions by 100,000. (Figures courtesy of the Dept of Made-up Statistics .)
Another knee-jerk reaction to Daily Mail-type stories. Another headline for Mr Johnson. Another “crack-down” which will be impossible to police, and which would have no effect if it could be policed.
Drink Makes Your Eyes Go Funny
These drinking contests provide a valuable service to society — they occasionally remove a spare idiot or two from the gene pool. These people should be encouraged to break the world record for the highest number of Bacardi’s drunk inside an hour. We should be cheering them on as they down their twenty-seventh pint. They are natural winners of the yearly Darwin Awards.
What is the government worried about? We’re unlikely to run out of idiots. Especially Mr Johnson.
