THIS week, I'm not writing about eating. Or food. Sorry,
but I'm not. I'm going to write about cars. From now on, this is going to be a car column. I know a lot about cars. They tend to have wheels and go 'I/room, vroom', don't they? I like red ones. I am shortly off to the Geneva Motor Show to see if they have any red ones. With wheels. That go `vroom, vroom'. I'll report back directly. And that's it for this week. See you next week. Bye.
What, you need more copy? Honestly, give you an inch and you'll take a mile. No, I'm not being unprofessional, actually. I can write more. I know a lot about cars, as I've said. Here goes: I like blue ones, too. Although not as much as red ones. I like those Smart cars. They're cute. I always want to give them a little cuddle. I think doors are always useful on a car. And brakes are handy, too. For stopping. Happy now? See you next week. Bye.
OK, OK, I can see the car column isn't going to work. But I can't write about food. It would be too cruel. You see, I'm on a diet. Well, planning to go on a diet, that is. I'm getting a bit fat, I think. Recently, even, at my local swimming-pool, two young kids were about to sfart a race but then postponed it because, as one said to the other: 'Hang on. Wait for the fat lady to get out the way.' I was the only other swimmer that day.
Of course, as a socialist/feminist/Tesco Clubcard holder, who fully appreciates that imposing slimness on women is patriarchy's way of keeping this particular sex oppressed and downtrodden, I didn't take it too badly. I cried for only six days. Yes. I did think about throwing myself from a tall building, but what if I bounced? Think how embarrassing that would be. Beauty is only skin-deep? I know, I know! But that's deep enough, isn't it? What do you want? A ravishing, well-toned pituitary gland?
So I go to my local bookshop, to buy some diet books. I don't know what I'm looking for because unlike cars — if I were you I'd opt for one with a steering wheel, which helps when it comes to getting round corners — I don't know a lot about diets. Isn't there something called the F-Plan? That rings a bell.
I look for it on the shelves but can't find it. Maybe I'm confusing it with G-Plan. Was there ever a G-Plan diet, I wonder? If not, there should have been. It would have been a good diet. I mean, how many calories can there be in a 1970s, hideous, teak-effect lounge unit with sliding glass doors?
And what about the F-off Plan? I like the sound of that. 'When going out for a drink with friends, you don't have to have fattening alcohol. Instead, how about a nice slimline tonic with ice and lemon, which is most refreshing?' F-Off! 'Instead of taking the lift at work, try using the stairs.' F-Off! 'Think: A moment on your lips is a lifetime on your hips.' F-Off, F-Off, F-Off, F-Off! This would be a satisfying diet to be on, I think.
In the end, I opt for Dr Atkins's New Diet Revolution (The American Blockbuster! 3 Million copies sold!' Vermilion, £6.99); Monica Grenfell's Beat Your Body Chaos Diet (Turn the Clock Back in 28 Days', Pan, £8.99) and Rosemary Conley's Red Wine Diet ('It Works, It Really Really Works', Arrow, £5.99).
I pay for them at the till where, tragically, the assistant doesn't say: 'What do you need these for? Are you buying them for a friend?' I then go home, where I am nicely greeted by my son ('Where have you been, chubbers?') and my partner (I'm leaving you for another woman. Yes, she is thinner and more attractive, but that's just a coincidence, fatso'). It's so nice to be loved for yourself.
This diet business is very confusing. Dr Atkins says don't count calories. Or cut out fats. Dr Atkins says that you should just cut out carbohydrates, which slow down your metabolism. Monica Grenfell — the founder of the landmark Internet Diet Company — also says don't count calories. It's all to do with hormones. Eat lots of asparagus. Rosemary Conley says count calories, allowing for a 200-calorie, daily treat that may be two St Michael's Fat-Free Crispie Cakes or, then again, may be two thin slices of Soreen Malt Loaf (no butter!).
God, which to follow! I just don't know. Dr Atkins? Well, Nigella Lawson recommends it — 'the perfect diet for those who love food', she says on the front cover — and she is beautiful, isn't she?
But, then, what about Monica who has, after all, gone to the extra effort of including real-life case-histories of menopausal women suffering from hot flushes. And Rosemary? Doesn't she promise weight loss while doing only the exercise you want to do and still having three glasses of red wine a day?
I can't decide. I truly can't. I know, I'll go and have a snack while I think about it. It's OK. I'm only going to have a Ryvita. Thinly spread with butter, lard, whipped cream, Ben and Jerry's Chunky Monkey, an M&S fresh cream trifle and a Jacob's Club (orange). I like the new Vauxhall Corsa, by the way. It's nice. Next week, I'll be test-driving the new BMW Z51, which comes with windows and seats as standard. I may have decided on my diet by then, and may or may not be thinner. I'll let you know.
PS: You may also be interested in ordering my own, forthcoming diet book, the DPlan, which offers the invaluable advice: 'Just don't eat so much, you fat, greedy pig.' Cost, £349. Steep, I know, but it really really works!
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