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I was flicking about on TV last night and ended up watching a documentary about Paul Mason, who at the time of filming was the fattest bastard in the UK and possibly the world. He weighed about 60 stone, even heavier than big-boned Michael Bolton.
Fair enough, he was quite open and honest and you'd have to have a heart of ice to not feel something for the human doughnut, but few programmes in recent years have left me feeling so angry.
In the last 10 years this fatty has cost the NHS well over £1m, yes one million pounds. He had a carer 12 hours a day because he was so fat he couldn't even get out of bed.
Would someone with cancer or other incurable disease get the same amount of money spent on them? Would they fuck. Does a 95 year old woman who can't get out of bed get a full-time carer in her own home? Does she fuck. But hey, spend your life eating crisps, sweets and burgers and go straight to the head of the queue for a hand out. Something is very wrong in this country.
There are people virtually starving in this country, having to use food banks to feed their children. But Paul Mason was getting over £1500 per WEEK from the taxpayer to fund his junk food lifestyle and young ladies to wash his knob.
Despite Paul Mason blaming his jumbo size on the death of his father/mother/parrot he chose to put food in his fat gob. No one forced him. Why should he get ANY help from the NHS/taxpayer? Perhaps if he'd been told to fuck off 10 years ago and get by on normal benefits he wouldn't have been able to afford 25 bacon butties a day.
He finally had an operation (on the NHS, naturally) to staple his huge belly and has slimmed down to 22 stone. His problem now is the huge folds of skin that cling to his frame. And yes, you've guessed it, he's getting another free operation to remove them.
Does this make you as angry as it does me? Well I've had enough, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em I say. I have already eaten three twirls, two burgers and a tub of ice cream this evening - if I do this every day for a few years perhaps I'll get £1500 per week tax free like Mr Mason.
Fair enough, he was quite open and honest and you'd have to have a heart of ice to not feel something for the human doughnut, but few programmes in recent years have left me feeling so angry.
In the last 10 years this fatty has cost the NHS well over £1m, yes one million pounds. He had a carer 12 hours a day because he was so fat he couldn't even get out of bed.
Would someone with cancer or other incurable disease get the same amount of money spent on them? Would they fuck. Does a 95 year old woman who can't get out of bed get a full-time carer in her own home? Does she fuck. But hey, spend your life eating crisps, sweets and burgers and go straight to the head of the queue for a hand out. Something is very wrong in this country.
There are people virtually starving in this country, having to use food banks to feed their children. But Paul Mason was getting over £1500 per WEEK from the taxpayer to fund his junk food lifestyle and young ladies to wash his knob.
Despite Paul Mason blaming his jumbo size on the death of his father/mother/parrot he chose to put food in his fat gob. No one forced him. Why should he get ANY help from the NHS/taxpayer? Perhaps if he'd been told to fuck off 10 years ago and get by on normal benefits he wouldn't have been able to afford 25 bacon butties a day.
He finally had an operation (on the NHS, naturally) to staple his huge belly and has slimmed down to 22 stone. His problem now is the huge folds of skin that cling to his frame. And yes, you've guessed it, he's getting another free operation to remove them.
Does this make you as angry as it does me? Well I've had enough, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em I say. I have already eaten three twirls, two burgers and a tub of ice cream this evening - if I do this every day for a few years perhaps I'll get £1500 per week tax free like Mr Mason.
