Fishing village smells of fish. What did he expect, lavender? The scent of roasted almonds wafting across the harbour side?

The only difference now between the modern world and Brave New world is we don't have soma: there's Sky+ and XBox Live instead.

I'm now in a grumpy mood. Grr.

As well as the Word blog, I contribute to a vocational forum whose house rules are so restrictive that many contributors have lost the ability to distinguish between a simple difference of opinion and wilful offence, and nearly all dissent is flagged as inappropriate and usually removed shortly after.

This cossettedness has stifled the culture of one of the organisations I volunteer for, which is now withering because of the unspoken tyranny that nips anything resembling outspokenness in the bud. The not-uncommon irony is, of course, that the organisation outwardly prides itself on it's touchy-feeliness, diversity, inclusivity, democracy, grass-rootsiness, yada-yada.

One of the consequences for me is that I now find myself going out of my way to have my sensibilities offended as often as possible, which means that I'm suddenly drawn to Top Gear repeats on Dave (even though I don't have a car), I've set the Sky+ to record anything with Glenn Beck, Clarissa Dickson-Wright, Adam Boulton or Noel Edmonds in it, and I dig through the darkest recesses of the Daily Telegraph fora to get the sweet pornographic thrill that you can only get from reading the disturbed rantings of the most deranged of racists; The Daily Mail just doesn't do it for me any more, I'm afraid - I need the hard stuff.

About a nice middle class family who moved out of the city to the country and the nice middle class woman complained that the roads were muddy and the cows in the field next door were noisy. She took the farmer to court. The Judge threw the case out and told her, to her outrage, that 'she was being silly'.

If I can find the source for this later I shall of course post it.

The Camber in Old Portsmouth.

There is full public access, but there are also signs up to point out that it is a working quay and, hence, to take care.

I suspect what so offended the gentleman's delicate sensibilities were crates of manky fish waiting to be loaded onto boats for use as bait in crab-pots. They do honk a bit. Rather a lot, actually. But they are an integral part of fishing.

The gentleman concerned is obviously a prime knob-end. The way that he complained via so many outlets, all the time refusing to accept that he was in any way in the wrong as those concerned explained things to him in patient and logical fashion is the amusing part.

Some silly buggers around Market harborough were complaining about cockrels crowing in the early morning. What's worse some berk in the council 'investigated' it. This sort of thing turns me all Telegraph-reader.

presumably the converse is to be similarly derided, eg where one of us ventures into some hoodie-filled housing estate and complains of the conditions made squalid by said hoodies. What of the argument that it's their way of life and we don't live there and so we don't understand and consequently can't complain?

I'm not agreeing with that perspective, and someone having that point of view is different from someone expecting "something to be done about it". But do we need to think a little carefully here?

Just thinking aloud, apologies for any offence etc.

is the best role to play, I find. Doesn't always win you friends, though.

I was disappointed to read that people had complained about the noise coming from the famous Bulls Head pub in Barnes. I used to go to this pub in my youth to see giants of jazz-rock such as Zzebra and Terry Smith and, oh, somebody else.

Since then some nice new flats have been built adjoining the pub - lovely river views, I suspect very expensive - and some residents have complained about the noise. I don't know if they succeeded in having any of their demands met but I really hope the pub and the local authority pointed out who was there first.

A cunch of total bunts bought a house recently (2011) which backs onto Griffin Park (home of Brentford F.C. since 1895)and proceeded to threaten a law suit to "protect their Human Right to silence" on a Saturday afternoon. I can't believe they were all called Wayne Carr but friends disagree.

p.s. Insert your own joke about quiet Bees fans here.

that a mother complained to her travel agent that when her children were paddling in the sea there were fish in it, and that her children were traumatised by the experience.
Alas I cannot remember her exact words but I think she expected compensation for the induced 'trauma'