Review by adamstuartcox

Many on here have been asking how this programme even got commissioned in the first place, let alone renewed for 11 series. Well, the original commissioning was a result of an unholy pact between Robert Lindsay and Lucifer - in exchange for his soul, and a bathtub full of virgins' blood, the Dark Lord pulled some strings at the BBC and got this unholy abomination onto our screens. Then, upon the spring equinox of each year, Satan would grant Lindsay a new series in return for the blood-sacrifice of an infant.

Now, I'm an NHS nurse - and in 2011 I was transferred from paediatrics to the geriatric ward - as a result of some unfounded, and frankly libellous, accusations that I was supplying a certain British sitcom actor with newborns as part of some kind of demonic ritual. Geriatrics is an awful place - you can't imagine how annoying it is, running around changing catheters and bedpans whilst those decrepit old folk selfishly cling on to life. Fortunately I have stumbled upon a brilliant solution - simply stick the elderly oxygen-thieves in front of a My Family DVD and witness their will to live drop down to zero in no time! Then all I have to do is send them off to the morgue and I'm free to spend the rest of my day swigging special brew behind the nurses station!