Where did all the thin kids go?

Here's a kid who has my respect. Look at the size of that lunchbox. I used to take my own packed lunch to school, which my mother would pack with wholesome snacks such as raisins or celery or turnip juice. I would cast envious glances across the dinner table as the other kids tucked into their Mars Bars and Jammy Dodgers, all the time wondering why my mother was putting my health before my street-cred.

I'd love to tell you that I had the last laugh - emerging as one of the UK's finest athletes, while all my gluttonous friends ended up fat-arsed, couch-ridden spud sacks. I'd love to tell you that I'm not typing this with the top button of my trousers undone, for fear of reversing my digestive process and pooing out of my mouth. I'd love to tell you I don't have a job that involves sitting on my arse for 12 hours a day, exercising little more than a corpse with a bad back.

On the news this morning they were discussing a new system of labelling food, so we all know exactly how much sugar, salt, cyanide etc. each item contains. That way we can make a conscious decision to choose a healthy diet and watch the weight come tumbling off. The manufacturers want to put on labels detailing the percentage of our daily intake each item provides. The Food Standards Agency wants to use a 'traffic light' system of red, amber and green, because we're all too thick to understand percentages and the pretty colours will make us feel happy.

I think they've got it all wrong. Having a diet of breadsticks and runner beans isn't going to keep you skinny if you're sat on your arse all day. I was fit and healthy at school on my Olympic diet, but so were all of my chocolate-gobbling friend because we spent all day outside, running around and rolling in the mud. Since starting my office job, my waistline has expanded at an exponential rate and I'm now approximately the same size as the moon. If the Government want to use traffic light warning signs, it should be job applications.

Green = Beergut unlikely
Amber = Beergut a possibility
Red = Beergut a certainty, girlfriend a distant memory

That's the kind of advice that I would take notice of.