Oh, I just correct other people's inane bollocks, largely because I wouldn't want the curious non-cognoscenti getting the impression that English tradarts are other than what they are. That's what I'm for.

Early yesterday morning I went into my local shop for juice and croissants. Two people (the Polish shopkeeper and an Afro-Caribbean man who said he lives in my street) tried to strike up entirely incomprehensible conversations. At least the latter concluded that he'd mistaken me for someone else but I've still no idea what the shopkeeper was on about.

Just like being on Mudcat, really.
Mouths and feet . . .