AS YOU may have gathered by now, my fuse is the complete opposite of the one Guy Fawkes laid to blow up the Houses of Parliament.

It’s short, permanently burning and liable to go off at any minute.And what’s been setting it off recently is the Olympics. Haven’t you noticed?

Every time you click, flick or switch on to something there they are. No advert is complete without informing us that the whatever being flogged is an ‘official partner’ of The Games, as if that was likely to make us dramatically re-think our choice of car insurance, wrist-watch or junk food.

If it isn’t adverts, it’s companies like Proctor & Gamble, giving mums the chance to win event tickets in a competition (sorry, but I’d rather have a spa day at Champney’s) and of course there’s the cheerleader-in-chief, the BBC, which would appear to have threatened its staff with death (or a seat at the next Olympic curling competition) if they don’t mention the games at least six times every day.

Don’t get me wrong, I wish our proud competitors all the luck in the world.

But what if you’re just not interested? Like anything that irritates, whether it’s an insect bite or that woman off the Today programme who interrupts everything with a pulse, you start looking out for it everywhere which is why, to preserve my sanity, I’ve decided to turn the whole thing into a game.

If like me you find that ping-pong, the triple-jump and greco-roman wrestling just aren’t doing it for you, then I cordially invite you to join me in playing Olympic bingo.

It really is very simple and certainly much easier to understand than the Olympic ticketing system. Every time you spot the Olympic hoops you get a point.

Hoops in context – like the ones at official venues don’t count. Hoops out of context; graffiti, funeral tributes, Princess Beatrice’s latest hat, are worth five points.

Score a point, too, for every mention of the Olympics on the BBC; two points if it’s any other terrestrial channel and 10 points if it ever gets mentioned on Al Jazeera or Price-Drop.

Collect two points for every spurious linkage of ordinary things; such as a village’s ‘Olympic-themed’ Easter Egg hunt or litter-pick; three points if said event gets mentioned on the BBC.

And score five points for every tortuous link uttered on South Today. You know, the ones that go a bit like this: “So, Sarah, what’s the weather going to be like tomorrow?” “Well Sally, today’s been rather wet and windy but hopefully that won’t be the kind of weather we’ll all get for the OLYMPICS...” But why stop there? This game adapts itself to anything of unwanted ubiquity, whether it’s ex-popster Alex James and his cheese (you get a point every time he mentions the words ‘cheese’, ‘artisan’, ‘Cotswolds’ or a celebrity mate; ten points if he’s on Question Time), or what about the Charles Dickens Bi-Centenary, which is becoming a veritable goldmine of tortuously tenuous links to the great man and all his works?

Every time another of his gargantuan bevvy of descendants pops up on the telly or radio, award yourself one point. Score two points for every town which mentions its connections to the great man. Score three points for every festival, blue plaque, document and Dickens-themed cup-cake bake-off that you discover.

After you’ve done this for a few weeks you’ll then be match-fit for the REAL competition.

Yes, it’s Stephen Fry Bingo and my goodness you’ll need some stamina because, like God, or that bird in the Paul McCartney song, Fry truly is here, there and everywhere.If it isn’t QI it’s repeats of his holiday in America, which was annoyingly described as a documentary.

Score one point every time you see this.Score two points every time you hear his voice on an advert: but 10 points if he appears in a play. It’s three points every time you spot him in a film and 20 points every time he’s mentioned as a director of Norwich City Football Club. Which he is.

Score single points for every other random appearance; including voiceovers for teenage internet sensations, mentionings of his Tweets in otherwise sensible newspapers, and every time you catch him on commercial radio.

When you have finally had enough, lie down in a darkened room. You’ll need it.