So come on, hands up, which one of you out there is letting the side down? Yes, put the TV remote down first. And the crisps. And the chocolate eclair.
What was that? I really wish you wouldn't speak with your mouth full. Full of cake, that is.
And pizza. And huge blocks of lard.
According to the statistics – and when were they ever wrong? – about 58,000 people in Hull are obese, with another estimated 81,000 who are overweight.
So, assuming there are about 256,100 people living in Hull, as there was according to the 2011 Census, that means, potentially, 54.28 per cent of everyone reading this could be a porker.
That, combined with the 100 per cent of people writing this article who are also a bit porky, is quite a damning figure.
We are, it seems, a city of chubby waddlers, which isn't a euphemism for something rude.
In a bid to de-pork us all, Hull City Council is changing the way it is addressing our porcinity. Is that even a word? I'm not sure, but I like it, so we'll go with it.
The plan is to shift attention away from individual lard-shedding courses, such as FitFans, to encourage people to look at their lifestyles as a whole.
It's what they call in touchy-feely circles a "holistic approach".
This, I suspect, means asking people to put the biscuit tin away after one Jaffa Cake, instead of devouring the whole packet.
Swap butter for low-fat spread, they say, or use semi-skinned milk instead of gold top.
Encouraging kids to grow their own veg is another idea, along with giving them cookery classes at school showing them how to make a meal that does not involve a mobile phone, some chubby fingers and a Chinese takeaway menu.
I'm not convinced by any of it.
I wish I was, because it's obvious our increasingly wobbly society is like a lard-lined time bomb.
When it goes off we're all going to be splattered with all kinds of intestinal nastiness, like the diners sitting next to Mr Creosote.
I'm not preaching; I'll admit I'm as guilty as everyone else when it comes to living an unhealthy lifestyle.
A combination of beer, wine, some excellent home-cooking, elevenses, half-elevenses and quarter-to twelvesies, birthday cake and Freeview TV means I've drifted into rotundity in the past year.
It sneaks up on you slowly. One moment you're mean, lean and down to your fighting weight and then, three series of Storage Hunters and a multi-pack of beef Hula Hoops later, you realise you're more Bella Emberg than Bella Vista.
It's easy to do. Right now, I'm sat here eating a Lion Bar while looking out of the window at Jabba The Hutt lookalikes wheezing past on mobility scooters.
The sedentary lifestyle is an easy one to succumb to, packed full of comfort food, tasty treats, online Call Of Duty tournaments and iPlayer.
It's a problem that obviously needs tackling, before the nation sinks under the combined weight of its own sloth.
But, as well-meaning as the health authorities are, I'm fairly convinced we're on a slippery and unstoppable slope to Fats-ville.
The only way out of this chicken party bucket of despair is for the worst offenders to make a conscious effort to get off their bottoms, haul on a plus-sized shell suit and go for a walk.
And to do the same the day after, and the day after that.
Perhaps the biggest obstacle facing us fatties is food, which although an obvious statement, is perhaps the easiest to overlook.
While our supermarkets are knocking out three margherita pizzas for £2, or the freezer compartments are full of calorific, unhealthy convenience foods at loss- leading prices, nothing will ever change.
As a population with collectively naff-all in our pockets – as the cost of living crisis drags on – we will inevitably plump for the cheapest, and probably unhealthiest, options.
For many, it's all about making ends meet.
Unfortunately, the more of this junk food we eat, the easier it is for out increasingly flabby ends to meet.
