Weight loss is a hot topic. People are always interested in new methods for losing weight, especially if there's a chance of losing weight quickly. I don't want to come across as overly smug here, but I have discovered a secret that is practically guaranteed to rid you of pounds... in a matter of hours! And it's a secret, my friends, that will be revealed in all its fullness... right here in this article!

Before I begin, though, I'm obliged to point out that no one should undertake a weight loss program without consulting a medical practitioner. Your medical practitioner will tell you, perhaps for the umpteenth time, that there's no surefire way to lose weight. The best you can do is improve the odds, you'll be told, and the best odds will be gained by eating a balanced diet, exercising regularly, and refraining from overindulgence in anything that you're likely to enjoy, such as red meat and booze.

I'm advising you to visit your doctor for three reasons: 1) to assuage my fears of being sued; 2) to give you a refresher on why weight loss programs don't work; and 3) to give your poor doctor an opportunity to bill your country's health system one more time. Oh wait... there's a fourth: to allow you to relax and finish this article in comfort. My method... gare on teed... does not contain any of the rules touted by doctors.

So, on with the show.

Like any worthwhile undertaking, a good weight loss program will benefit from a morsel of considered preparation. Your body is your best friend. You need to treat it respectfully, lovingly, gently. You need to prepare it for the dark tunnel it's about to enter.

Can you imagine the shock of arriving at a Sunday afternoon and discovering there's NO SUGAR? Without warning? No, my friends, that's not the way it's done. You sit with your body, lovingly feed it the sugar it so deeply desires, and talk softly and tenderly to it about the tribulations that lie ahead. You say you are there for it, you are there with it, that you will share its pain. Doing this will not lessen the coming agonies, no doubt. But the feelings of understanding and trust you establish between you and your body will make the burden so much lighter.

The two of you can sit together and make a list of all the sacrifices you will be making for each other. The saturated fats, the excessive carbs, the vast quantites of alcohol you will no longer share; these things need to be laid out and mourned. The long days and weeks of whole grain breads, cucumber sandwiches, and life-draining tofu and soyburgers; they, too, need to be acknowledged, addressed, and faced down. A project as serious as weight loss should be undertaken with earnest sincerity. You and your body need to face it as a team, as a single unit, in positive and supportive ways.

That way, when you find yourself double-fisting hamburgers and fries on diet day four, nobody is blaming anyone.

To supplement my weight loss program, I decided to go to England on vacation.

One of the reasons I went is that they don't have any french fries over there. A good way to avoid eating french fries is to take a vacation in a country where there aren't any. In England they have "chips". Now, I don't recall anyone here in North America saying that you shouldn't eat chips. Everyone's too busy fussing about french fries. Over in England they served me chips in baskets. I ate lots; yum, yum and YUM!

England is well known for fish and chips but I didn't have any fish. I'll tell you why. A few years ago England was plagued with an outbreak of Mad Cow Disease; a little while later Canada was plagued with an outbreak of the same thing. So out of a sense of brotherhood and solidarity I ate beef. The RED stuff... lots of it. Like I said earlier, yum, yum, and YUM!

Then there was the beer! Oh Lordy, how I loved the beer! They served it to me in big mugs and no one was counting mugs. Every time I'd wave in a friendly way to the bartender she'd send over another mug. A wonderful gal was that bartender.

But, you protest, this Hub is supposed to be about weight loss. How can this be about weight loss when you're eating those horrid foods and drinking all that beer?

Okay, I'll admit you have a point on the weight loss thing. I did mention "weight loss" and a few related phrases here and there. To be honest, though, I just tossed them in as bait for the Adsense folks. Weight loss ads are quite lucrative, I hear. What I said - or at least what I said I'd say - is that "I lost fifty pounds." There's a difference between losing weight and losing fifty pounds. Let me explain.

I was in England, as I mentioned, in one of those places that doubles as a restaurant and a bar. A "pub" I think they call it. Anyway, somewhere between the end of the afternoon and the beginning of the night, I lost track of things. The next thing I know I'm outside the bar, doing my level best to stay upright on an undulating sidewalk. I'm still trying to perfect "upright" when I see a lady police officer coming toward me. "Bobbie" I thing they called her.

Folks, let me tell you, Bobbie was one heckuva good looking lady. I told her so, too. Then I got all loquacious and everything and told her that her uniform had moved in delightful ways as she was walking toward me. I went on to ask her if she could "re-move" her uniform so I could more deeply impress on my mind such a beautiful memory.

Now, like I said, I had lost track of things. I have a distant memory of her running her hands over my body. A pleasant memory to be sure, but I'm not perfectly clear on it. I sort of remember lying face down on the sidewalk. Which doesn't make much sense; of what use was I lying face down? Oh well, if it turns out that she was a little kinky I can live with it. She was beautiful! The last thing I recall is being hurried along toward a large brick building. "Rich chic!" I thought, trying unsuccessfully to focus on my good luck.

Unfortunately, the rest of the night is a total blank. My next recollection is of sitting with Bobbie in front of an old man wearing a wig. (The old man was wearing the wig, not me.) I didn't pay much attention to the old fellow because I was reflecting on the wonder of having spent the night with Bobbie. She's the last thing I see at night and the first thing I see next morning. We had to have spent the night together, right? Gee, I wish I could remember...

The old guy seemed to be talking to me but I don't think he was making much headway. I was having trouble with his accent. To be fair, I think I would have had trouble with any accent. I heard something that sounded like "drunk and disorderly" but I couldn't be sure. I didn't know who he was talking about anyway. And I still wasn't paying attention because by now I was practically rolling in the afterglow of my newborn romance.

So Bobbie chats him up and soon she turns to me and says, "Fifty pounds."

I looked at her through the mist of my love-soaked intoxication and smiled ever so dumbly. She stared coldly in return and reached into my pocket. Withdrawing my wallet, she took five bills of British currency bearing the number "10" and handed them to the old guy. She turned back to me and said in an icy, professional voice, "Your fine is paid. You are free to go."

So there I was, fifty pounds lighter. And obtusely thrilled because I had this secret...!