"Your so called "hooray-Henry's" are a figment of your imagination. You told a story and were caught out on it. Tell me you pretentious prick, what hunting/shooting parties you have met and conversed with..."

The pub I've done much of my drinking in in the last thirty years is the foremost hunting pub round here, the place where the hunts start off from. So I do indeed know plenty of those people, thank you very much. I also met many parents and pupils who were keen hunters and I often had to bite my lip. It would be very nice if you would refrain from coming out with insults based on your sour-grapes ignorance. I live in dyed-in-the-wool hunting country here, I live on a farm which is pro-hunting along with all the other farms round here and I've been here for thirty years, OK? I also know the area around Exford on Exmoor, where stags are hunted and the barroom walls are festooned with stags' heads à la Manuel. I once got embroiled in a rather threatening row with a bunch of hunters in the Exford Arms. It wasn't of my making, rather that of the bloke I was sinking a few bevvies with, who was stridently anti-hunting, getting a bit aerated. I did try to tell him that it was a great idea in that pub... it did show up the hooray-Henrys at their very worst, however.

I've never met and conversed with any "hunting/shooting parties" and I never said that I did.