I went off on a tangent workshopping something new to write about the body acceptance idea as I struggled to pull on my leggings and fasten a sports bra, one of the banes of my single life, and a dodgy collarbone, is my inability to do up bras at the back. I love my body, despite the curves that envelop my hips, 360 degrees, thus making getting a visual downstairs nigh impossible unless I suck everything in and stand on my toes.

Ironically the last time I could get a visual was about three years ago at the height of my divorce, living on Diet Coke and apples, 12 kegs lighter, and oddly enough, there was no one about even slightly interested in getting a visual apart from me.

But column ideas do come from the most of random places. I know I should be writing about current affairs and politics and real issues that affect real people. Not, as some readers have pointed out recently, writing about myself all the time. It appears what’s going on in my life, a single life now, teenage children, yes, even body issues and mid-life crises, are of no interest to anyone else but me. Oh, and all the other people who write in, or stop me in the street, or message via social media, to say thanks for writing about it because it’s going on in their lives too. I should I be writing more serious, sensible, think pieces. But I’m not.

Instead I’m doing a little happy dance in my head while I’m sitting in casualty with my son on a Tuesday night after a knock at rugby training earlier in the day. Not because we’re dealing with yet another knock this season but because I’ve stumbled across my favourite soft porn magazine in the waiting room and I’ve got a column idea brewing.

Men’s Health is a great read. Full of articles about sport and sex and working out, full of life advice and recipes. I only read it for the articles. Promise.

So imagine my delight when I find an edition with our own David Pocock on the cover. Those shoulders and arms, those cheekbones. It was actually a great article, discussing the enigma that is Pocock. You can read most of it here. This edition offered up many column ideas and I was taking photos of the pages to remind me. (And yes, a couple of Pocock too.)

Like did you know that regular sex can halve your chance of death, from any cause, over a 10-year period? Appears that researchers from the University of Bristol and Queen’s University Belfast have found that for every 100 orgasms that a man has in a year, his mortality risk falls by as much as 36 per cent? We Tried anyone?

Or that for every 500g of extra weight gained, $226 of wealth is lost? Economists from Ohio State University, have been studying the weight-wealth connection for more than a decade and it appears body weight and net worth are intertwined more than we think. (See the beginning of this article, do not check bank balance.)

Or that the scourge that is white bread may be tamed a little if you freeze it before toasting it. Apparently, according to researchers from Oxford Brookes University, freezing the bread makes it harder for the enzymes in the gut to convert starch into sugar resulting in a slower more sustained release of energy.

The one thing I like about Men’s Health is that its whacky stories are always backed up by research. Something I should do more of. But my favourite column is the one where a barman gives advice. It’s great no nonsense stuff. My friend got a hideous tattoo, can I tell him? Should I tell my wife about a flirty coworker? The sort of advice I want to give people.

In a random column or something.