EVERY now and then you see something that reminds you why you live where you do.

Last week on the way to work, I was forced to double take. Did I really see it? I sure did.

“Buddhists set lobsters free,” screamed The Argus billboard.

After the initial check to make sure I wasn’t seeing things, I smiled and just carried on my way.

After all, we live in Brighton – a city built on cults. So that’s why perhaps a bunch of zealots buying £2,000 worth of shellfish and then letting them free into the English Channel seems like child’s play.

It got me thinking though – what other sort of “cults” do we live alongside?

Here are just a few thoughts.

Bad parking brigade

Not the most obvious cult; I mean there’s hardly a bad parking society, but that’s because no one would actually own up to being a member.

Let’s be clear, if you’ve done any of the following you probably should sign up: parked in a disabled bay, parked entirely out of a bay, double parked, left your car on double yellows with hazards on, let your car sticking out of a bay, parked over a driveway, ignored white lines, parked over a cycle lane.

Yoga addicts

It starts off with the intention of keeping fit and flexible.

But within six months of going to your first yoga class, you’ll either go two ways: 1) you’ll never go again; or 2) you’ll sign up to a weekend retreat to the Cotswolds.

Everywhere you turn in Brighton and Hove there’s a multi-coloured advert promoting all sorts of types of back-breaking exercise.

Normal yoga, yoga with accessories, yoga with babies, yoga with animals, yoga in a steam room, yoga with three of your five a day. OK, so I made the last one up, but I can guarantee it won’t be long before someone is offering it...

Trainspotters

Not just a Brighton and Hove thing, but honestly, how interesting is writing down a load of numbers?

Political parties

Conservative, Labour, Green, Ukip – whichever way you sway, it takes a real zealot to actually pay money to be a part of a political party.

All those hours chatting away about not a lot, all those days spent door-knocking with a clipboard in hand and all those months defending the indefensible.

In our city you would expect party membership to be through the roof.

But it seems that the idea of wearing a plastic rosette and fawning over the latest Westminster-bubble produced puppet put forward as party leader simply isn’t every one’s cup of tea.

Flower arrangers

Normally the reserve of the blue-rinse brigade, on paper it looks like a particularly fun and lovely activity.

But anyone who gets involved knows that it’s a dog-eat-dog world, where sharp elbows and even sharper tongues are the basic necessities to get by.

Trying to get away from the daffodils and anywhere near the hydrangeas requires the tenacity of Margaret Thatcher and the physical prowess of Giant Haystacks.

Bowls and/or cricket clubs

Sport should involve building up a sweat, last no more than a couple of hours and ultimately be fun.

Any activity which involves burning more calories by socialising in the clubhouse than by actually doing it is obviously not a sport.

Lycra-clad cyclists

A more recent phenomena, thanks to Sir Bradley Wiggins.

Something happens when perfectly normal human beings squeeze their oversized frames into a tight suit and board an over-priced two wheeler.

I would say it’s like the transformation of the Incredible Hulk, yet these people wear their tops are so tight it’s impossible to rip.

Instead they vent their anger on anyone in a motor car. Some of it is probably acceptable.

But Riding in the middle of the road three-abreast and then shouting tirades at anyone who tries to overtake you is a little selfish and probably the result of your shorts being too tight.

Moaning mums

Yes, we get it – you have a child. But That doesn’t mean that we all want to hear about it.

Nor do we want to listen about how hard life is when it basically involves sipping tea with other mums, talking loudly in libraries and going to baby yoga.

Not to mention blocking pavements with Chelsea tractor-sized buggies. Mothercare? Should be mothers: beware.

Football hooligans

You can can hear them normally before you see them.

What they are saying is difficult to understand, even though English is supposed to be their first language.

Rarely seen during summer, this is an animal which is most often seen on Saturday afternoons around Brighton station.

They hunt in packs (with the aid of six packs) and are only drawn to those wearing the same colours as them.

Estate agents/bankers/journalists

No one likes you, stick together and get over it.