(diaryland) November 09, 2004 - 5:24 p.m.

I watched a TV show about fat people on Sunday, and they showed all the crap they ate on a big table. I looked at it, and realised it was exactly the same shit that I eat. It was my life. I had eaten giant heart-clogging fast food meals three times in the last five days.

On the outside, I am a thin person. On the inside, I'm one of those lard-arses who parade their rolls of fat whilst wearing an especially-made bikini on Maury.

So, I decided to eat healthy. For me, that's fucked, I discovered. Apparently the reason why I seem to need fast food is that I appear to have the metabolism of a vole. If I eat a shitload of healthy stuff, it seems that I need to eat another shitload of stuff half an hour afterwards. That's very annoying.

I'm worried that if I eat healthy like those fat cunts on the telly did for eight weeks, I'll lose two stone like they did. And then I won't actually weigh anything at all.

Oh, well. I suppose I'll just have to continue with shovelling in salty crap every few minutes and then die of a heart attack at 40. At least I won't be wasting away that way.

I've got a headache I'm so hungry. I should eat that orange I've got.