I got to thinking the other day, as I watched an anorexic-looking young women waiting to cross the road, how great it would be if we could donate fat as we do blood. I, for one, would readily volunteer.
It could benefit those who are ill and emaciated, insulate the malnourished and provide a quick fix for those struggling to gain weight (Oh, to be in that category!). It could even be used for cosmetic implants to the cheeks – both facial and buttock.
Imagine the queues outside the ‘Fat Bank’ on a Monday morning, stretching as far as the eye can see; the vain and the overweight united in sharing a common goal to rid themselves of yesterday’s splurge – be that a carrot and three raisins, or a roast dinner with all the trimmings.
“How much would you like to deposit today, madam? Ten pounds or twenty?”
“Let’s make it twenty. I’m going on my holidays next week and need to fit into that teenie-weenie bikini.”
What a joy it would be to tuck in to your double cheeseburger with fries, or Rogan Josh and an extra portion of onion bhajis, in the knowledge that you are providing a service to the less endowed of society.
Now I’m sure my proposal will be branded as unhealthy and opposed by certain factions of the politically correct brigade. They might even advocate that if people avoided eating this much stodge in the first place, they wouldn’t need this service. But let’s face it, extreme dieting can be as bad for your health as having the odd blow out and nowhere near as much fun.
So let the campaign begin to rid the nation of their flab to replenish the needy, and when that’s done, let’s eat, drink and be merry and repeat the process all over again the week after.
Image credit: rusak / 123RF Stock Photo