This is about nothing being wasted, of course, because I am going to allude to the environment when I in fact refer to obesity, and one can only assume little of the slab gets left on the slab... well, until the other part of .. & taxes.
This morning, the big thing was our nation's 'kids of greater than desirable girth'. So far, so Billy Bunter (I hoping I'm safe in this from the PC police, as they all seem to have just graduated in the last 10 minutes from the University of Nannyton with a degree in ElfernSafety and a higher in fixingfingswotwasneverbroketilnow, and while there were lots of punters sticking their oars in when not at classes for 2 minutes a week no doubt).
So we had the Blair-babe blue rinse with the scarf and sing-song patronising voice on the couch, and at the other side a young lady of 12 and her Mum. Not at school today then, 'cos what's better than being on the telly to say that it's really hard not to eat all those buns because of the nasty ad men.
Which the blue rinse obviously got inspired by. Because she reckoned that the supermarkets and parents didn't have enough information, and they needed.. an ad campaign.
Now I am a TV addicted couch potato with the best of them, and merely by paying a bit of attention to the bits between Big Bruvva and The Qui... er... gambli... er... rip-off shows, have a pretty good notion that if you feed your face, or that of your child's, with endless burgers and fries, and then don't kick 'em out in the garden every so often, they may end up like the young Princess of Tonga this am. And I'm pretty sure the supermarkets know this too.
So no amount of money frittered, battered or otherwise coated on such an indigestible notion is going to make anyone take a blind bit more notice of such a thing, or make one whit of difference, except denuding apparently pretty low stocks of public service funds.
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