The press love to paint those on benefit as villains, pigeonholing religious and ethnic minorities among others using small case studies. Now it seems their attention has shifted to the obese.
Now i’m not one to jump on the media’s lynching bandwagon but when it comes to the following family I think i’m justified in making an exception.
The chawners take dysfunctional to a whole new plateau, there is something slightly surreal about the image of a family coming in at a combined weight of 80 stone lying replete on their sofa 24/7 and subsisting off whatever scraps the taxpayer throws them. It rings out like a bleak bell tolling for what the future of our society might be, mounds of impotent fat sitting high in their towers siphoning off the life force of the honest, hard working ants bellow.
I’m getting a little off topic, I think what I’m trying to say is that the Chawners are a family of delusional, gelatinous blobs. So much so that I think a Chawner should be adopted as Oxford English to describe one of gargantuan obesity.
I think its the lies that have caused me to foster this immediate dislike, when speaking to the Mail Emma Chawner, daughter of the house and, at 17 stone, its lightest occupant, described her diet:
“I don’t have breatfast most days. Sometimes I don’t have lunch neither, and might only eat a salad roll for tea. I’m always eating lettuce and apples and stuff”
I’m afraid Emma that those things coming out of your mouth are unadulterated lies. You wouldn’t be 4 stone heavier than me, a 21 year old man, if you only ate a goddamn salad roll every day. I’m no Micheal Phelps, I eat fairly badly and I still manage not to bear a freakish resemblance to a sad version of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man.
I realise that i’m being cynical here, the hoard of chocolate bars and biscuits in the cupcoard were apparently for a niece. Thats possible, improbable, but possible. As for the bottles of ketchup, lucozade and Gaviscon found scattered about, it could just be a coincidence that they keep all three within a paw’s reach of the sofa.
It could be just coincidence, but we know its not. What has caused me affront is not their gluttony but that they claim that their resulting obesity is a medical disability and that this prevents them from working. They are so disabled that they can leave the house, travel 20 miles and wait for 6 hours in a queue to give their daughter a chance to audition for the X Factor. They were even disabled enough to argue with Simon Cowell afterward, something even an ‘abled’ person would have to think twice before doing. Now tell me how that works?
Its not the kids I blame its the parents, they’ve so deluded the children in implying that their fatassedness is congenital that they feel they can’t change. Poor Emma will forever be reffered to as Stay Puft behind her back, while her parents fill her head with more bollocks about how she’ll be the next Mariah Carey.
In interviews they repeat the words “We’re disabled, its not our fault” like a mantra, apparently their problem is “in the genes”, an inescapable curse handed down from generation to generation. Despite this standpoint when Jeremy Kyle offered to pay for them to have gastric bands fitted as part of his show they lept at the opportunity. So now it seems that in the Chawder househould a gastric band doubles as gene therapy. Die.
Oh and as a present for our loyal readers, Emma is on Facebook: Emma Chawder
