So, the bruv jets off to Dalaman for 2 weeks. In the bogs at Gatwick he sees someone who works with me.
"Do you know my bruv, TMR?"
"The TMRminator?"
"Why do you call him the TMRminator? "
"Because he's like a machine - flat out all the time and never even a bead of sweat. Is he on drugs? "
Bruv was gobsmacked. Proof - if it were needed - that fags and beer make you fit.