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Having admitted to the heinous crime of seeking hot food after 2pm in an English town, I find it distressing that ES proposes that I should be banished to an offshore (in all senses of the word) island, the home of tax-dodgers and refugee ne'er-do-wells from Liverpool. Living in a land where the pubs stop serving hot food about the same time that the Frenchman has just finished his aperitif and is appraising his first course, is humiliating enough without also being subjected to sniping from some One over the wall (and over the water).
I suppose that I should consider myself fortunate that I had not had any desire for chilled meat (or even sausages) or I might have suffered further opprobrium from ES's northern neighbours.
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Ron
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Never regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many. Don't worry about old age - it doesn't last.
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