I laugh my monkey ass off at fat people. I point at tem in the street and sometimes chase them with a giant butterfly net playing Catch The Pigeon with a kazoo stuck in my mouth. This is partly because I live my life in a Warner Brothers cartoon but mainly because of my problem with fat people. This is partly because I live my life in a Warner Brothers cartoon but mainly because of my problem with fat people.

"This is partly because I live my life in a Warner Brothers cartoon but mainly because of my problem with fat people."

I. Just. Don't. Get. It.

Something I share with Celebrity Fit Club - the programme that asks celebrity fatties "what are you playing at?"

This season saw another gaggle of stars take the challenge - a veritable "Who's That?" of British public life. Paul Ross, philandering turd and elder brother of Jonathan, trying to shift his gut - the result of years of free bars and munchies at countless media launches.

Andy Fordham - the world darts champion and 33 stone of good loving. As long as your idea of good loving involves his sweaty pie encrusted hands fumbling around your drawers before the fat cunt suffers his 49th stroke of the day from the exertion of having to actually use his hand to do something other than stuff his fat face, the tubby bitch. "his sweaty pie encrusted hands fumbling around your drawers before the fat cunt suffers his 49th stroke of the day."

Through some strange loophole they included somebody with talent, tub of guts soul singer Kym Mazelle. This breaks the Geneva Convention on Reality Tv Contestants Having No Useful Ability but what the hell? Fit Club is nothing if not inclusive.

This week's episode had Ken Morley (TV's Reg Holdsworth) make a break for freedom from his hotel room causing an emotional Julie Goodyear to shout "come back you bastard!" And causing an emotional Aerial Telly to shout "stay away you fat bastard!"

Time spent with the fat celebs helps you realise that they are no different from less well known chubby bastards - they all ponder the reason for their obesity like it was some eternal mystery like consciousness, free will or All About Me getting a second series.

They need to be told: "The reason you're the way you are is not because you were touched up in a taxi that time or because mummy make you live under the sink until you were 12 or because Granny fed you raw liver while she was watching the wrestling. It's because you couldn't keep your fat, fucked up trap shut when the pies were being passed round."

It really is as simple as that.

Former US Marines drill instructor, Harvey Walden IV, clearly basing his life on the NCO from An Officer and a Gentleman, finally gets let loose on the celebs to kick some fat butt. That's American for bottom or arse.

Given that Harvey has trained the most elite fighting force in the world you realise that the truly great self-restraint is being exercised by him. He so obviously wants to shout "fucking faggot motherfucker I'll eat your fucking face if you fuck with me". Maybe he does off-screen?

Celebrity Fat Fucks understands that we are sadists. We don't just want to feel superior to the tubbies; we want walking, living proof of our superiority. We want to see them grovel in the gutter like Paula Radcliffe in Athens.

That's the joy of Celebrity Fist Fuck. It appeals to our worst voyeuristic tendencies and makes us complicit in the whole grotesque spectacle.

The best thing about it:

The worst thing about it: bikini shots of Lizzy Bardsley

The verdict on Celebrity Fit Club: They're living fat.

Marks out of 10: 7

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