Quote of the Hour: One and a Half Uncles, By Weight

It was the photograph of an elderly man in a bathing suit; an elderly man who, a glance was enough to tell, had been overdoing it on the starchy foods since early childhood; an elderly man so rotund, so obese, so bulging in every direction that Shakespeare, had he beheld him would have muttered to himself 'Upon what meat doth this our Horace feed that he is grown so great?' One wondered how any bathing suit built by human hands could contain so stupendous an amount of uncle without parting at the seams. In the letter he had written to Oofy announcing his arrival in England Horace Protter had spoken of coming home to lay his bones in the old country. There was nothing in the snapshot to suggest that he had any bones.

 - P.G. Wodehouse, "The Fat of the Land," p.12 in A Few Quick Ones