Trashed elbow

One of the peculiar joys of temping in accounts (read: one of the less obvious reasons why I left England) was the office rotters continually enthusing about the Atkins diet. Every day, some minger would be on about the 3lbs she'd lost (time frame unspecified,) either oblivious to or prepared to accept the fact that her one-dimensional litany of meat meals was giving her a skin tone that I would usually associate with corpses.

However, today my student astounded me with the diet plan she'd seen on a second-rate commercial network.

Simply as follows:

One cup of black coffee after breakfast

One cup of black coffee after lunch

One cup of black coffee at 3.50pm (why couldn't it wait until 4 o'clock? I don't know.)

One cup of black coffee after dinner

I asked her how much weight she'd lost. Apparently none, but she only started this week.

I must admit, I'm tempted to give it a go. I don't desperately need to lose weight, but it's the kind of loony self-experimentation that keeps me entertained. Like cheese before bed. Gibber gibber.