The Universe clearly wants me to write about lethal foods, because the very next item sent in by a reader (thank you, Wendy Tong), was about Corey McQueary, 33, recently found dead in a cell in the US state of Kentucky, after eating the underpants of a fellow inmate. The underpants had been soaked in the liquid form of an expensive drug. I dearly love my friends, readers and colleagues, but I don't think I would eat their underpants even if they were soaked in Chateau Lynch-Bages 1961. I apologize if any of you feels insulted by that.

On the subject of marinated foods, a reader from India sent me a curious report suggesting that a man-eating leopard in the Kumaon hills, near the Himalayas, has developed a taste for homo sapiens soaked in alcohol. Over the past two-and-a-half years, it has killed more than a dozen unfortunate people, showing a strong preference for drunk males staggering home after a night out.

A friend who knows about these things tells me that alcohol adds piquancy to foodstuff, but animals hate chilli sauce. The obvious answer is to airlift a large portion of nasi goreng from Malaysia to India.

Anyway, if you do turn up at the first meeting of The Anti-Social Society next Friday, don't look for me. I'll probably be sitting by myself at a restaurant in Johor Bahru, demonstrating my machismo.

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