88.

My appetite has become insatiable. I'm starting to actively look forward to those Marks and Spencer adverts. I've considered taping them, but i can't be sure when they'll crop up. But when they do, it's glorious. Semi-sexual.

Finest Organic Free-Range Lincolnshire Pork Sausages, lovingly embraced by a succulent Cranberry and Merlot Gravy, gently straddling Devonshire Creamed Mashed Maris Piper potatoes....etc etc. This is my porn.

Anyway, it's with this new desire to roll in mashed potatoes and have butter intravenously inserted into my straining guts, that i've taken to watching 'The Two Fat Ladies' on UKTV Gold.

I love them. Both of them. Seriously. For those of you unacquanited with Jennifer and Clarissa, allow me to introduce you...

If you've read any of the blogs you'll know where i stand on the class issue. But these two old fuckers are the exception to the rule. They're so posh i find it hard to make out a lot of what they're saying. Which is ok because the words i CAN make out are ridiculously entertaining. They have this programme where they drive around on a motorbike (one sits on the motorbike, the other one is shoe-horned into a sidecar) to essentially ogle men with semi-interesting occupations. Not that you see much of the men. Thank fuck. Who needs cotton when you can have silk?

Jennifer and Clarissa then spend twenty five minutes in a kitchen (each programme has new men to ogle, with new occupations and a new kitchen to cook in) making what can only be described as platefuls of saturated fat and sugar.

Anyway the food is not the point. The point is that i could watch their chubby little pudding fingers work a pizza base all day. One of them died. The one with dark hair. I wasn't sad at the time but all week i've been grieving. People take the piss out of the two fat ladies (the clue's in the title) but i reckon ogling men a fifth of your age whilst ladling the chip fat down your gullet is pretty high on the list of ways in which one should want to go.

Beats getting your nappy changed at 'Sunnydale Retirement Home', being forced to listen to piss-poor versions of 'Sentimental Journey' in an NHS establishment that reaks of piss and eating liver.

Your Good Health Ladies. Chin Chin x