Are you one of the many, many people who painstakingly followed the WeightWatchers diet plan in order to burn off at least a fraction of your tyre rolls ready for summer? Did you go to your weekly meetings, offloading to the group about how much you miss carbs before sobbing over the humiliating weekly weigh-in? Sorry Sandra, you’ve actually gained two pounds this week.

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Well, I’ve got a little secret to tell you. Calories are completely obsolete. Yes, that’s right. Those little calorie counter stickers on your morning Costa run are not doing you any favours. Even if you stick carefully within your daily allowance, you might as well be shoveling cake into your face while washing it down with a extra large, full milk mocha Frappuccino, because you my friend ain’t losing any weight.

In this world we still seem to think that losing weight is as simple as calories in, calories out. And this is why we have a widespread obesity epidemic. You can count calories forever, but you’ll still always be a fat fuck and here’s why: 

Calories don’t mean shit 

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A dietary calorie is defined as “the amount of energy required to increase the temperature of 1 kilogram of water by 1 degree Kelvin.” It’s basically a unit of energy transfer, but simply put, our bodies do not act like steam engines where we just put food in as fuel to the fire.

It’s all about what you’re eating because how a calorie is used in the body completely depends on the molecular composition of the food. If you get one person to eat 3,000 calories of oranges per day and another to eat 2,000 calories of Mars Bars per day, the chocolate eater is going to be the one with a dimply butt. You’d be stupid to think that your body would process these types of foods in the same way.

The fact is, your body needs a diet that is rich in fat and in calories – but the right type of fat. The only time bad fat is stored in the body is when your insulin is spiked, which happens when you eat sugary and processed food. This is why Sandra gained two pounds despite counting calories all week – her microwave low-fat pasta might only contain 300 calories, but it’s full of sugar and chemicals.

Everyone’s still lazy 

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No matter how much you follow the calorie counters on your Meal Deals, if you carry on sitting on the sofa watching re-runs of ‘Stranger Things’ on Netflix, you’re going to be chubby. End of.

Everyone always moans about the diets of people back in the 70s – it was laden with cheese, red meat and fat. People sunk down obscene amounts of cocktails. But then, why was everyone still considerably slimmer and diabetes-free? Because they moved around a lot. They actually could be arsed to move further than the local shop without jumping in a car or on some dumb hoverboard. They didn’t spend all evening smoking weed and playing Fifa. Instead people were out Pogo-sticking or whatever it was that 70s people did.

Not having a go here – smoking weed and playing Fifa is the best. But it ain’t going to make you any less squidgy. 

You booze you lose 

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If you’re a booze hound (which let’s face it, most of us are) then I highly doubt that you’re factoring in those extra 1,000 calories you just sank in that Monday night bottle of red. It’s liquid right? That doesn’t really count… right?

Wrong. Here’s the killer – alcohol is so high in sugar that it contains seven calories per gram (it’s basically like ladling pure fat onto your thighs). Not only that, but calories from booze are known as ‘empty calories’ because they have no nutritional value. So not only does beer make you fat – it also makes you sick. That’s why all those daytime Wetherspoons lurkers look so grey.

And then on top of that, you’ve got the drunken munchies. Stick to your strict 1,500 mid-week allowance all you want. As soon as you hit 3am on a Saturday and you’re shoveling a dirty kebab in your face, you’re back to square one. Probably wasn’t even worth the effort.

So what’s the answer?

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Stop. Eating. Shit. Easy peasy. Although burgers do taste good, I get that. As does cheese. And pasta. And McDonald’s. I guess you could do a Vanessa Feltz and get a gastric band. Although she loved the crap so much that she managed to stretch it off her. Now that’s what I call dedication.

Or just face up to the fact that you’re a fat fuck. It’s not all bad – here are (some) pros to being a chubster.