I nearly forgot

I got bored while I was cooking, so took myself for a walk up to the foreign supermarket. While I was queuing up to pay, I spotted an enormously rotund woman with a trolleyful of junk food, and an even vaster man. Both were wearing tightly-fitting tops and tracksuit bottoms. They were like two polythene bags stuffed full of cold porridge, and waiting to burst. I remembered a charming little Eighteenth-Century ditty about the rival Italian Opera companies in London:

'Some say, compar’d to Bononcini
That Mynheer Handel’s but a Ninny
Others aver, that he to Handel
Is scarcely fit to hold a Candle
Strange all this Difference should be
‘Twixt Tweedle-dum and Tweedle-dee!' 

The pictures are of Tweedledum and Tweedledee, Handel and (a very limp-wristed) Bononcini.