. . . according to the British Royal College of General Practitioners, at least.
Children should not leave sherry for Santa Claus this Christmas Eve because he is an overweight binge-drinker at risk of mental health problems, the head of the Royal College of GPs has warned.
Jolly old St Nicholas is famed for his rotund stomach, rosy cheeks and, according to children’s poem The Night Before Christmas, keeps a pipe glued to his lips at all times.
But Professor Helen Stokes-Lampard, chairwoman of the RCGP, said his poor diet and lifestyle had left Santa at risk of host of debilitating conditions.
It is likely, said Professor Stokes-Lampard, that Santa is suffering from alcoholism, work related stress, gout and sleep deprivation.
He may even have contracted Lyme disease from spending too much time with his reindeers, which could be infested with disease-bearing ticks. And the pressure of working night-shift will also have exacted a heavy health toll.
In fact, unless Santa gets a handle on his drinking, over-eating and lack of excercise, it could be the last year he will be dropping presents down the chimney.
. . .
“In the meantime, I would recommend that Santa gives the sherry a miss this year – and maybe asks Rudolph if he can share his carrots.”
There’s more at the link.
Some, of course, might consider the good Doctor a killjoy. Hmmm . . . if one disagrees with her, does that make one a dissenter or a dis-Santa?
Peter
And he's how many centuries old?
I'd think that being a busybody bureaucrat gets you on the Naughty List
Some people could suck the light out of the Sun given half a chance.
What are we supposed to leave Santa, drugs?
Bah, humbug upon this particular medical establishment. May Krampus deliver Atomic Wedgies to each and everyone of them.
Good grief….
I'm thinking that maybe Santa never brought her what she wanted for Christmas.
Hasn't anyone told her that Santa isn't real? Next she'll be having the vapours over the tooth fairy (risk of contamination from blood borne pathogens, paedophilia) and the Easter bunny (a rabbit laying eggs? Tooth decay, obesity etc.).
All I can think is that the health Service has too much money to spend on trivia like this.
Phil B
Dear Santa,
Could you please take that lemonwood 2"x4" stud out of Dr. Stokes-Lampard's butt this year?
She's so worried about fictional elves that she's become an intolerably annoying boor. Or boar. Take your pick.
– Everyone
Puritanism: The morbid fear that someone, somewhere, is having fun.
Hah! Everyone know that the Royal College of General Practitioners is a myth, trotted out to keep the kiddies in line!
I can see that Ms. Stokes-Lampard will be getting coal in her stocking this year.
When my kids were small we left Santa a sniffer of good scotch. I usually only drank beer back then and that bottle would sometime last to the next year. Now a bottle of Scotch is doing good to make it a week.
While the reindeer do the heavy lifting getting themselves and the sleigh into the air, Santa has to do the taxing job of creating a bubble of locally accelerated time so they can get the job done in one night.
That takes energy. If the jolly old elf doesn't get a pie and a sherry every house, he'll die of starvation before he finishes one town.
The bubble of accelerated time does help the reindeer fly, as it reduces the apparent pull of gravity and the effects of inertia (all the kinds of things that change as time stops passing at one observed second per real second), but to make matters worse, Santa does the whole job pretty much in the dark. Not from it being night, but because what light there is he experiences at dramatically lower photon flux and red-shifted almost to radio waves. He can't have any light sources, either, as a simple flashlight shining out of an accelerated time bubble would be like a pulse of a gamma laser. (Rudolph's nose doesn't light the way; it burns a tunnel through the fog. Even then, just barely bioluminescently 'glowing', it is more than enough.)
Any alternative theories about the sleigh travelling at superluminal speeds are just poppycock, as the reindeer would flash-vaporize into plasma from air friction. No, Santa bending time, that's the only way it makes sense.
So, cough up the grub and booze for the fat man.