Why are women such stupid bitches?

Possibly the most frustrating topic I am confronted with on a daily basis – by BBM, on facebook, text message, email, sky writing – and always from a female - is weight.

What is weight or body mass? 

This is how much you - including anything that happens to be on the scales with you, whether that be your clothes, shoes,  ‘dense bones’, a stronger gravitational pull – yes some Ben and Jerry’s addict in denial came to this conclusion once.

One such common question that makes me want to dramatically punch a wall: “I weighed myself this morning and I’ve gained since last night…why?”

Well perhaps you suffer from sleep walking and are blissfully unaware that you are emptying the entire contents of the fridge down your gullet on a night? Err... probably not – but don’t rule it out.

What is this fascination with the number on the scales? 

This is the manifestation of obsessive behaviour for 99% of the female population.

When you weigh yourself you need to consider these things:

•         Have you just eaten a 6 lb steak?
•         Have you just necked 3 litres of water?
•         Perhaps you are retaining water; were you drinking alcohol last night? have you eaten a lot of salt?
•         Are you big boned? Stop listening to your mother you sad bastard.
•         Is it that time of the month? If so please do tell me about it in the greatest possible detail.
•         Are you dehydrated – have you just trained? Have you been sat in the sauna for 3 hours?
•         Are you wearing the equal amount of bling to Mr. T?

Well ladies – and no I’m not being sexist because the fact is men just don’t give a shit (which is another thing you have to consider).

Personally I don’t weigh myself. Last time I did I had gained 4.5kg. Did this bother me? Did I feel the need to run into oncoming traffic on Sheikh Zayed Road and end it all there and then?

Not really. I hadn’t had to go out and buy a new wardrobe, all my clothes fitted me exactly the same. Probably better.

No I did not own a faulty pair of scales. I had recently changed my training and gained a lot of lean muscle. Muscle actually weighs more than fat. Throw a chicken breast and a fist full of fat into water and guess what?... the fat floats.

Not so handy if you are a chicken that can’t swim but does that make sense at least?

You can in fact change your body composition and gain weight without putting on size. 

Think of gaining muscle as being compact like a stone, and having fat being like a balloon – bigger but lighter.

BMI is a bitch. 

This is used by the likes of weight watchers and any equivalent fat fighters club. It’s a simplified way of showing you that if Jonny eats 5 digestive biscuits and Mary eats 23 then there will be no biscuits left and Mary is a fat slag.

BMI does work in some cases. If you are actually morbidly obese, your BMI will be over 30.

If you are a 6 foot solid rugby player with the body fat percentage of a lean stick then 1. Send me your number and 2. Your BMI will also be on the overweight to obese end of the scale.

So does this mean the majority of the England rugby team qualifies for a gastric band on the NHS? Probably, but that's not the issue.

BMI does not take into account body composition. Just like the scales it considers only the weight and not the matter.

On to my next point.

Every woman has an ideal weight. Usually one that is completely unrealistically obtainable. I have met women who have been under 7.5 stone before and still not happy with their bodies. In fact they looked ill and about 7 years old. Why this obsession over a number? This is where women are their own worst enemies. It’s those insecure mother f*ckers who have to be the skinniest or the lightest of have the biggest boobs or the biggest lips or the most exotic vajazzle.

With women it’s a competition like the cool group at school. You are only allowed in if you lose your virginity at 13 and can neck a whole bottle of white lightening in one go.

Even in this day and age where we have the privilege of modern technology and hundreds of years of scientific research, are women a slave to the scales.

This is sad. 

Thus justifying my belief that all women, including myself, are actually mental.

Perhaps it is time to review our role models. I like to think we saw past the Kate Moss painfully thin look when she started snorting cocaine with notorious drug addicts. This is not cool and it’s definitely not clever. 

More deserving and appropriate are the Jessica Ennis and Natalie Coughlin's of the world – female athletes with smoking hot bodies – real muscles formed by eating a healthy diet and  dedicating time and energy to some serious exercise. 

It’s the women who have these bodies that should be celebrated and put up on a pedestal, not emaciated idiots with the vitamin deficiency of a sailor from the 1600s.

Give me my 4.5 kg and a sexy squatters bum over underweight on the BMI with a bony behind. 

Now sod off with the compulsive weighing – if you eat clean and train hard and generally look after your health you can be happy and confident with peace of mind that you are mentally and physically respecting yourself.