Five more months of this nonsense! Wake me up when it's over/January 5th 2010

Richie - I've just returned from my annual January check-up. After poking my flabby corsage Dr Singh, my usually mild-mannered GP, snorted: ‘You're overweight, Mr Bob - too pale and boggy-eyed. What’s more, there are signs that your alcohol consumption is affecting your central nervous system. So, no more fry ups, no more fish and chips, and definitely no more beer and whiskey. From now on, salad and fruit juice. Can you manage that ?’
‘Er, not likely’ I chirruped.
‘I thought as much. So, I’m referring you to our dietician, Mrs Breakwell. She'll put you on a rigorous course of exercise and help you get back into shape.'
In reception I spied the redoubtable Mrs Breakwell. A muscular, sumo-sized woman she was berating a pensioner for not eating his greens. She turned to me and boomed: ‘Roberts - get your sad backside over here!’ causing me to sprint, Usain Bolt-like, out of the surgery three miles to the pub - the most exercise I've had in years! Mad in GB's UK, innit!