Firmly in lockstep re the agree to disagree spiel.
Passive aggressive nonsense hardly describes it, which is why I much prefer the discourse here at the club.

As for Keith I'm afraid he is a solitary mercenary who once allocated a mission, then sees it through to its conclusion so I would suggest some kind of negotiation, the offering mayhap of meaty or piscine comestibles as a means of bringing about a peaceful and honourable settlement with Hobbes as the main intermediary. (Good God Fred where does this drivel emanate from?!")


Marmite, along with pork dripping and bread, Chitlings (UK spelling) tripe and offal various, was a staple of my impoverished childhood. All cast aside with much vim in adulthood apart from the dripping and bread and Marmite on toast with the odd bit of liver and onions thrown in occasionally.

Haggis, despite my Englishness is a must on Burns night along with it's dance partners tatties and neeps, or to the uninitiated, potato and swede all washed down with a glass of the good stuff.

Beef dripping is still used by the fish and chip shops here in the north to fry the haddock ( the tasteless abomination that is north sea cod being verboten.) and Maris Piper potatoes as used for the chips.

My doctor pleads with me to eschew such gastronomic gyrations to which I blithely reply "well I've got this far lets not worry about tomorrow." A short sighted view maybe but every man ploughs his own furrow as my late father once said, shortly before he dropped to the floor having choked to death whilst trying to consume a particularly tough boiled, sheep's testicle. (not true just being flippant he reached 86 before departing this world and I'll be happy to do the same.)


Now where did I put that lettuce sandwich?