The dear lady from North Wales keeps her finger on the pulse.
Dear Mrs Pope, she writes, I understand your husband, Benny Dick (or should that be Dick Benny? Just my little joke), is coming to these shores a bit later on to have a rant about same-sex relationships. Well, you tell him he doesn't need to worry about Wales. Here in the Principality, where Primitive Methodism rules, we strictly observe the laws of Leviticus: no poofters, no shellfish, etc. It's a pity, though, that they didn't say something about sheep-shagging while they were about it.