I THINK MY BRAIN IS FULL

I really don’t like the idea of some Scottish midget rifling through my shit.

Gillian McKeith, nutritionist to the stars (and the criminally fat) is not someone that is deserving of the celebrity status she now commands. This poisonous dwarf is making life a misery for those of us that like a good munch.

Look at her. She’s been shot in a comedy photo-shoot, in her nightwear. I hate her. I hate her little face, her little twisted body and most of all, I hate her war on food.

This horrible woman has taken it upon herself to wage war on all of the fatties that currently think nothing of yamming back a burger or two in the quest to be fulfilled. I have nothing against fat people, really, despite them being a constant source of amusement for my oh-so childish mind. I’m on the large side myself, which means I’m fully entitled to point, stare and mock.

Seen most recently on Supersize Vs Superskinny, McKeith has been trying to reduce the size of fat women’s fat arses. Not such a big deal, you might think, but this horrendous little hag is so ugly and deformed herself that every word that comes out of her mouth about self improvement sounds hollow and misguided. Sure, she’s concerned about the state of people’s health and, sure, she’s trying to do something about it, but the way she does this is so offensive to my very core that were I to see her in the street, I would shove her to the ground by her stupid little face. That’s known as a “Handsome Gav”.

However, her self-appointed crusade isn’t what really bugs me. No. It’s the fact that this disgusting old crone has been known to play with other people’s poo, in order to tell them what’s wrong with their diet. Yeah, you read that right. The woman is a faecal freak and likes to poke around in human waste. I’m sure she feels there’s some scientific benefit to pulling apart turds in order to work out what they’ve been eating but… well… come on. They’re fat. Surely it doesn’t matter what they’ve been eating? Surely the important thing here is how much they’ve been eating? I don’t need some withered little bitch yanking my stool apart to tell me that!

If you should happen to see a five foot tall Scottish trot roaming your town, possibly waving some sort of anti-corpulence banner around, do yourself and your nation a favour and kick her to the ground. Stamp on her face. Lay a nice steamer next to her head and tell her to inspect it.

This is very important.