Entry for 18th August, 2008

I have not been feeling on top form since Crieff. I suspect that this is to do with (a) eating my own bodyweight in Chicken Dhansak, and (b) breaking my monthlong alcohol-free zone in a rather big way. I have returned to the office rather bloated and pasty. I suspect that some casual passerby may mistake me for a giant maggot.
However, I am not entirely downhearted, for I know that Paul Mackenna can Make Me Thin! His little book says so. This evening I shall read it in bed, turning the pages with my podgy little maggoty hands, whilst I guzzle a crunchy and fourteen cheesey biscuits.
Diet books are like hard core porn to us fatties. We lust after the promise of perfection. Paul Mackenna may not be able to make me thin, but he still has the power to titillate in the small hours of the morning.
Come on bad boy: make me thin. Do it baldy.
Do it for me.