Now, if I understand the theory of biophilia properly, my fear of spiders and snakes is not the delirium tremens of a soft southern ponce it's always been mistaken for by your average playground bully (and Anne), but a genetically encoded survival mechanism. Come the invasion of the spiders and one of us is ready, that's what I'm saying. I'm basically the Andrew Lincoln of spidergeddon.
And the self-administered cognitive based therapy of the last twenty years has worked. Nearly. I find, if I'm well past a bottle of red wine, I can stumble into the bathroom of an evening, watch him watching me from around the back of the toilet and have a short unsatisfying pee. What's that? Turn my back on him for poo? Are you kidding...?