Weighty matters — 7 Comments

  1. Great stuff! A former girlfriend bought me a leather belt in 2003.  I remember the date cos it’s the same year I split with my wife (oops!);  since that time I have made a couple of extra holes in it as my waist expanded for some unknown reason, but it couldn’t have been the beer because beer is 95% water of course! Anyhow in recent months I have embarked on a breakfast regime of eating fruit instead of eggs, bacon, fried bread, etc.  Am now back to using the original holes in the belt which shows, 15 years later, that it was a bloody good belt to last so long (probably expensive, but we did love each other enormously for about 3 months so her purchase was justified), and, as I probably drink far more beer than I did in 2003, it proves that beer was never the problem!

    • They say that gravity pulls down all the liquid stuff inside the solid skeleton, so a spreading waist is probably just your lungs heading south.  Spend your days standing on your head and you’ll soon look like Charles Atlas again.

  2. “So what weight should I be?”

    It doesn’t matter. You’re either overweight or underweight. Either way, you need intervention from Nanny

  3. I’m five foot ten – and being retired, now tip the scales at just over fourteen stone. I’m not overweight, just undertall.

    And I’m happy with it ‘cos as long as long as I feel OK, I don’t GAF!

    At my last company medical a little over three years ago, my cholesterol level was less than four, my pulse rate around fifty eight (wasn’t a nubile young nurse)  yet I adore fish & chips, a full fried breakfast with lots of fried bread, and Chinese and Indian takeaways – not all at the same time, though. I’m also something of a chocaholic and enjoy a few beers.

    Sod the nannies! I’m content.


    • According to South Park, you’re just big boned.  I haven’t the faintest idea what all my levels and the like are.  Doc never seems to worry so why should I?  There again, it could just be the drugs he helps himself to that keep him calm?  I have never counted calories in my life and don’t intend to now.  It smacks far too much like narcissistic neurosis to my way of thinking.

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