CHERTSEY

BOATS, BRIDGES, BOILERS ... IF IT'S GOT RIVETS, I'M RIVETTED
... feminist, atheist, autistic academic and historic narrowboater ...
Likes snooker, beer, tea, rivets and solitude, and is strangely fascinated by the cinema organ.
And there might be something about railways.
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Saturday, 9 February 2019

Scary

Sebastian and I had a little text exchange a few weeks ago.

I asked whether, if someone had an irrational fear of hot Vietmanese soup, they suffered from phophobia.

He wondered about the person who had an irrational fear that they were being fobbed off with fake hot Vietnamese soup: fauxphophobia.

Maybe you are afraid that you are being supplied inauthentic hot Vietnamese soup by your sworn enemy: foefauxphophobia

I thought, what about if you had an irrational fear that the counterfeit hot Vietnamese soup supplied by your sworn enemy might contain the blood of an Englishman, or be accompanied by bread made from ground bones: the diagnosis would then be
fee-fie-fofoefauxphophobia.

I think that's about as far as we can take that one - unless of course (in the immortal words of Glyn Worsnip), you know different.


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