Mine started when the bloody cassette player self destructed after telling me the details of said mission.

Up to yet, my mission is on track.

Beer, check.
Sex, check.
Sheffield Wednesday season ticket, check.
New guitar strings, check.
Regular supply of pork scratching, check.

To be fair, I don't have a mission as such, but I give no quarter to bigotry and inequality wherever it raises it's ugly head. Not always pretty, I admit, but not confronting it just to keep decorum and sensitivities would be worse, and not me.