Nation excitedly begins countdown to Dry January

THE UK is excitedly counting down the hours, minutes and seconds until Dry January can begin, it has emerged.

The annual month-long period of self-imposed sobriety which traditionally starts the year is eagerly awaited by Britons tired of endless expresso martinis and dead-eyed trudges to the pub.

Martin Bishop of Woking said: “God I can’t wait. Four weeks of delightful clear-headed sobriety starts at midnight. I’ll get so much done!

“The last few months have been a miserable parade of pissed-up merriment. My birthday, Halloween, the trip to Munich with the lads, my parents’ silver wedding, every weekend from Thursday to Sunday. It’ll be good to put all that to rest.

“After tonight, when I’ll obviously be drinking from 4pm, I’ll be more than ready for a month of arbitrary abstinence, dark nights, dark mornings, cold and wet. I expect it’ll pass in no time, especially the evenings. Midnight can’t come fast enough.”

Mary Fisher from Nottingham said: “Dry January not only saves me money, it also gives me a smug glow of superiority. And it’s the month when I get the most value out of my gym membership with upwards of seven visits.

“Altogether now… Ten! Nine! Eight!”

Mum forcing family to watch old, shit film

A MOTHER is selfishly forcing her entire family to watch a film that was made before 1990 and is therefore a slow, cheap, boring torture.

Matriarch Joanna Kramer has insisted her husband and three children join her, imprisoned under blankets, for a screening of the 1954 musical Seven Brides for Seven Brothers which is so old it was filmed on papyrus.

14-year-old son Grant said: “We were all just chilling in our separate rooms, on devices, none of us interacting with each other in any way. As Christmas should be.

“Then mum arrives, announces a matinee movie, tempts us down with popcorn, turns out the lights so we can’t even look at anything else and puts on this film which is at once the most boring and most offensive thing I’ve ever seen.

“It’s about men kidnapping women in the mountains but when I point out ‘this is basically The Andrew Tate Story’ I’m told to shut up and not ruin it. As if that were possible. It’s like saying ‘don’t ruin being waterboarded for me’.”

Sister Jess Kramer said: “One by one we snuck out, claiming the need for toilet visits, for drinks, to do unpleasant chores. We gathered in the kitchen to whinge about the trauma we’d suffered and to vow never to let this happen again.

“It’s really brought us together.”