The Great British Slob (Not To Be Confused With Obesity) Poem by PAUL COLVIN

They’re always drinking skinny cokes then wolfing down Big Macs,
A box of chocs and bags of crisps, is their idea of snacks,
Chips and burgers or kebabs, that’s their staple diet
Or anything that’s bad for you, so long as they can fry it!
Morning exercise for them is walking for their food;
To a greasy spoon for breakfast, within the neighbourhood,
A hundreds yards is their top whack, cos any more would kill
And if they build up muscle, they’ll need to take more pills.
But come the night, when hunger calls, as they’re sitting watching telly
Snuggled up on seat or couch, they have to fill their belly,
A man-size snack, and I mean huge, is washed down with a drink
But the calories, from sixteen pints, is much more than they think!