Image by OwenBlacker via Flickr |
| Thinning hair, Jenny Craig diet? Oh dear Cheryl, what's it going to be next? Piles? |
The telly ad's a psychological masterpiece too. Cue Cheryl Baker complaining that x months ago she looked like a pudding (or was it a sausage?) but now thanks to the Jenny Craig programme, she's lost gazillions of pounds. Yipee, good for you Cheryl. (Just please don't sing.)
So Cheryl, tell me, how is it working for you? Do tell!
"Well, it's simple, I don't have to do or think about anything. I just get meals on wheels."
What? Are you out of your plastic-wrapped, calorie-controlled F***s Fizzed mind?
I know we all have our own weird and wonderful reasons for putting on weight, I do, really I do. But until Tesco is nuked and the Star Trek replicator becomes the norm, I'll hold vice-like to the view that taking just the tiniest bit of responsibility for what I shove down my cakehole is the grown up thing to do.
I hate food shopping. It's dull and lethal when you're hungry, but I'd rather guerrilla-fight my way down the chocolate aisle and take my chances than be condemned, yes CONDEMNED to an existence of pre-packed budgie food that even the couriers must be embarrassed to deliver.
Am I being too harsh? Perhaps Cheryl Baker is just the glamorous, mumsy advertising face of Jenny Craig, and not in any way representative of their real clientele? That must be it. Because unless you are a poor soul who needs a winch to hoist you from the sofa to the kitchen, why on Gandalf's green earth would you do a diet like this?
But let's just suppose you do decide to chuck in your last shred of self respect and sign up. What happens when you reach your goal weight? When you've GPS'd the last quinoa grain on the last environmentally evil plastic platter, and you're wrenched from the bosom of mother Jenny to fend for yourself. What then?
Yes, that's right, slim one, it's only a matter of time.
Temptation is patient.
MOOOHHHHWWWWWHHHHAAAAAAAHHHAAA!
Bon weekend!
I hate food shopping. It's dull and lethal when you're hungry, but I'd rather guerrilla-fight my way down the chocolate aisle and take my chances than be condemned, yes CONDEMNED to an existence of pre-packed budgie food that even the couriers must be embarrassed to deliver.
Am I being too harsh? Perhaps Cheryl Baker is just the glamorous, mumsy advertising face of Jenny Craig, and not in any way representative of their real clientele? That must be it. Because unless you are a poor soul who needs a winch to hoist you from the sofa to the kitchen, why on Gandalf's green earth would you do a diet like this?
But let's just suppose you do decide to chuck in your last shred of self respect and sign up. What happens when you reach your goal weight? When you've GPS'd the last quinoa grain on the last environmentally evil plastic platter, and you're wrenched from the bosom of mother Jenny to fend for yourself. What then?
Yes, that's right, slim one, it's only a matter of time.
Temptation is patient.
MOOOHHHHWWWWWHHHHAAAAAAAHHHAAA!
Bon weekend!
