Mercifully I appear to have slept though this one, but a few years ago I was so maddened by loud music that, as dawn approached, I got in my car and set off to find its source. I ended up at the Lone Wolf clubhouse, where according to the portly gent with folded arms stationed at the front gate, they were welcoming visiting members of an affiliated club. Probably wisely, I thought it best not to escalate this confrontation to "Now look here, good fellow...!" status, and went home to find a pair of earplugs.

Unlike many people, I find it hard to muster much outrage over cretins producing bathtub crank for sale to other cretins. And I'm positively supportive of a chap's right to dress up like a character in a gay porn film, if that brings him happiness. It's the lack of consideration for neighbours that is the main issue here.