The government’s ‘obesity tsar’ has made a new law. And it reads thus:
“From hereon thereafter and from this day forth, women, trans-women, almost women and a few camp men shall be offered food portions of a lesser volume and weight than those given to people with testicles, people who wish they had testicles or those identifying as ‘butch’.”

Men (of all types) need more calories each day than women, its… proven. Scientifically. Innit. So this should be reflected in portion size. Go to a restaurant, order hamburgers, ‘his’ comes in as a quarter pounder, her’s, a slider. That’s fair. Though there are issues.

I like Mel getting a lot of food because then I get to eat some of it. And what if a small man, 5 foot 6, goes out for dinner with an amazon who’s 6 foot 2? Who gets the bigger meal? Who ‘needs’ more calories? And what about the pressure on food serving staff? Do they have to ‘presume’ gender?? That wouldn’t cause much bother, would it. What about me? I’m a man, but I identify as a pig. I want one-and-a-half portions. And how about ‘sharing plates’? Does someone stand by to make sure it gets shared unevenly in accordance with the fat-tzar’s rules? If I identify as ‘gender neutral’ do I have to go hungry? How about bisexuals; do they get to eat both portions?

Nice idea, Tsar, but no tsigar.

We went to Edinburgh on the weekend. Train Saturday morning for a Xmas party Saturday evening, train back Sunday morning. Long way for a party but it had to be done. We pitched up at our tube station to get down to Kings Cross and… closed. ‘Planned closures’. Really? Whose fucking plans? Not mine. Ok, we Ubered. Got there in time for our train. And for Edinburgh. What a truly fabulous city. So beautiful. Not just the castle (which we didn’t go see), nor Hollyrood (nope), but all of it. And it’s like Berlin in that most of the people speak English there. I want to go back. Maybe in the summertime.

Tonight; 8pm, Spurs vs Sparta Prague. Starring… Joey!!! He’s a ‘mascot’ at tonight’s match at the Lane. Yes, he’ll be all kitted up and walking from the tunnel holding someone’s hand onto the pitch. I’m hoping he doesn’t trip over. Or pick a fight with one of the other mascots. But I’m almost as exited as he is. The game I’m not bothered about, but Joey walking out with the team? The stuff of dreams.

Happy Tuesday

A xxxx