Last year in my BBC article New Year Resolutions I came up with a new diet to help women lose weight. It was a totally revolutionary concept and I called it The Mad Axeman Instant Weight Loss Programme. You see, I'd come to the conclusion that the only way I'd ever lose weight was if I was handcuffed to a madman holding a loaded shotgun to my head demanding my abstinence from food under pain of my losing a body part; a darn good approach to dieting if you ask me and a hell of a lot cheaper than signing up to a programme that charges you to tell you how fat you are - I've got a husband for that.
Unfortunately, my revolutionary new diet failed. Abysmally. In a desperate attempt to fulfil my ambitions I wrote to all the nutters I could think off who might assist me in my endeavours. As (bad) luck would have it most of them were on Death Row so couldn't spare the time. A few celebrities trying to cash in on the publicity did turn up though. However, being celebs (who get confused easily) they didn't all bring the right equipment. For example;
Brad Pitt proved he's been taking fatherhood too seriously by forgetting his weapon altogether and arriving with a dummy instead; I think Angelina was after some parenting tips.
Simon Cowell turned up with only his ego; I reminded him I only wanted to lose weight not commit suicide.
Tiger Woods arrived with his club at which point I said "Can you move into the light - My flash is not working" and he legged it. Pity; it looked a promising scenario.
Ashton Kutcher's weapon of choice was his mobile phone. Yep, he thought he was going to be clever by threatening to bore me into dieting with his moronic Twitter ramblings. A promising idea but one which overlooked the fact that I knew the perfect place to shove his mobile. Yeah, Up There. Yep, you know just where I mean! And for anyone out there who thinks Ashton Kutcher is actually a range of designer cushions let me tell you he is actually a toyboy actor (I think) married to Demi Moore..... although hang on...let me check my Upholstery Manual..... Nope got it wrong...he's a small Taiwanese clothing exporter of polyester night shirts......
All credit to the lovely Tommy Cruise who you know I just adore.. who did turn up with a loaded shotgun. Unfortunately for him I'd put my bullet proof knee protectors on. So no joy for Little Tommy and no joy for Mrs T...
Anyhow, this year I've come up with an even better diet. It's called Mrs T's Hot Dish Diet. Now I know all my lady friends in India will be getting excited thinking they've got one up on my English and American readers with their shelves of lovely spices all at the ready. Not so my friends, not so! Mrs T can't have a diet based on curries because well ...poor Mrs T's tummy can't take anything stronger than a Korma. In fact the last time I had a Madras I broke the world record for the 100 metres dash.
No, it's not a curry based diet. It's a Hot Dish as in a Hot Male Dish. Confused? Right, let me explain. Here's the theory...
A hot, sexy, handsome celeb like my favourite Pierce Brosnan or perhaps the younger Daniel Craig or even an athletic God like Kobe Bryant or the (yummy) Andy Roddick offers himself up as a dinner date as a reward for the most successful woman to lose weight and get fit over the course of a year.....
And there you have it! It's as simple and easy as that! A cheap and effective cure for weight gain and obesity without having to even consume lettuce! Can you imagine the results? Women all over the world would lose weight instantly at the thought of a date with the likes of George Clooney or Clive Owen. A world wide contest would ensue for The Dinner Date of a Lifetime. There would be qualifying heats where contestants model aprons instead of bikinis and fight it out with frying pans and cudgels instead of singing and dancing. Hideously insincere speeches like;
"I want to be a nun and work for a pittance training rescue donkeys to sniff out water in the Sahara desert"
would be replaced by heart rendering pleading such as;
"Oh please, please, please let me have a date with George! I've lost 21 stone, run the New York Marathon, produced my own range of diet suppressants, climbed Mount Everest and now I'm a size Zero. I really want a date with George cos I know he'll love my Before and After piccys!"
( Possibly followed by copious weeping.)
Yep, it's time to dump the The Miss World Beauty Pageant and replace it with The Hot Dish Diet Pageant. Personally, I reckon I could lose half a stone in one day at the thought of a date with Daniel Craig. In fact, just trying on every outfit in my wardrobe would probably result in enough sweat loss to reduce my waistline by an inch. (Obviously a LOT of squeezing and panting involved there.)
What d'you reckon folks? A perfect diet scenario?! Now all I need is a nice hot male.... Anyone got any suggestions who Mrs T should approach for her Hot Dish? Or any of you guys out there want to volunteer? (Photos and particulars to my email please.) Note; I am discerning - so don't try and fob me off with piccys of Gordon Brown or Peter Mandelson.
Ps: Coming next - a true story about U2's Bono!