My doctor says I'm overweight,
I'm in the orange band,
To make it to the yellow zone
I'll need a helping hand.
So he's cancelled Sunday breakfast
And sworn me off scotch eggs,
He's drained my car of petrol
Chuckling 'Learn to use your legs!'
But I don't really buy it.
There's alternatives to diet.
I used to have a ponytail,
So first I had that chopped.
I filed off my fingernails -
They didn't do a lot.
I syphoned every orifice,
That's ears and nostrils too,
Then shaved all up and down the stairs
And blocked my pores with glue.
I bought myself a leotard
All webbed and made of feather
And leaf-thin flip-flops filled with air
(I'm hoping for good weather).
So the morning of the retest came,
I wandered down the road
And got savaged by a pit bull,
Who chewed off all my toes.
And thanks to that good fortune,
When I stepped on the machine,
The doctor said 'I've got good news!
You're one gramme in the green.'
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