I have such a strong memory of an entirely politically incorrect poem which used to be printed in Theatre Programmes in the Cork of my youth.
To the best of my memory this was was part of an advertisment for Riordens Wines and Spirits which stood next door to Dwyers Wholesale Warehouse on Washington Street in Cork.
It extolled the benefits of drinking above those of eating, neither of which would be permitted today.
I can only remember a couple of snatches of the verse which I had always imagined, it was so wittily phrased, was by someone of the calibre of Coward or Nash.
I have searched the internet in vain for the original poem so can only assume it was written by a copywriter with a particularly fluent pen in Cork in the fifties.

The central theme was to contrast, Mr. Brown who overindulged in food to, someone who (in the phrase of the day ); “ drank.”
It finished with something like;

The sober diner may depart
With fatty something of the heart
Yet he whose wickedness is wine
May totter on to ninety nine
Yet no-one whispers in the streets
“Poor Brown the trouble is, he eats”

Is there anyone out there old enough to remember the rest of it?