AIBU or AINBU, that is the question

I know this sounds a bit woo but I Swear that those trees out back are getting closer

Romeo Romeo where for art thy Romeo.

To be honest he sounds a bit unreliable if you're have to ask where he is? is he normally like this? Do you get on with your PILs?

Style and beauty: God has given you one face, and you make yourself another

General :The course of true love never did run smooth. LTB

Geeky stuff: As soon go kindle fire with snow, as seek to quench the fire of love with words. Or try the Samsung Galaxy it's easier to use

Is this a line I see before me? ... Or art though but a line of the mind, a false creation, proceeding from the ttc-obsessed brain?

Doubt thou the stars are fire;
Doubt that the sun doth move;
Doubt truth to be a liar;
Has anyone got a good conspiracy theory?

A Friday night thread posted on mumsnet,
Asked how can I tell if he's come yet?
"Stick your thumb up his arse,
this also shall pass"
Like the Great Bard we do poetry and bumsex.

Now is the winter of this discontent
Made glorious summer by this scarf I bought
And all the netmums that lour'd upon upon our rage
In the deep bosom of AIBU buried.
Now are our charms discussed for monument,
And our stern YABUs changed to merry meetings,
Our dreadful MILs to delightful bumsex.
Grim visag'd HQ have smoothed their wrinkled brows,
And now, instead of handing out banishments,
They caper nimbly in the gin-makers chambers,
To the befuddled pleasing of a lute.
But I - I that am not shaped for Friday night tricks,
Nor made to sport a school run frock,
I that am a late night lurker, and want MN royalty
To strut about in relationships,
I, that am curtailed by late night updates,
Cheated of mumsnet by dissembling internet,
Unposted, Unanswered, sent beyond your time
Into the late night world, scarce hardly made up,
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That Style and Beauty smirk at me as I lurk by them.
Why I, in this weak late night time of peace -
Have no 'active convos' to pass away the time,
Unless I spy some unanswered threads
And descant on mine own unpopularity.
And therefore, since I cannot prove to be Royalty,
To entertain these fair well spoken days
I am determined to be a villain,
And hate the Idle pleasures of this place.
Plots have I laid, viruses dangerous,
By drunken threads, libels and dreams,
To set She Who Must Not Be Named and MNHQ
In deadly hate the one against the other
And IF MNHQ be as true and just
As I am subtle, false and treacherous,
Today shall 'G' closely be mew'd up
About a prophecy which says that 'G'
The downfall of MNHQ shall be.

I have work to do, but I think I could probably squeeze a five act play out of this one.

Poas, poor Yorick

to be unreasonable, or not to be unreasonable

I will try to come up with something better tomorrow...

Goodnight, goodnight, parting is such sweet sorrow , so I shall log off now until it be the morrow

To sleep perchance to dream. Oh, to sleep. Please, I want one decent night of sleep.

In a false quarrel there is no true valour unless it's on Facebook

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me whilst I Mumsnet

Doh! Epic fail, my quote is the same as the thread title

I'll try again. [sad2

to dunk, or not to dunk, that is the question.

I can't beat any of these, so instead I'll pay homage to them.

Or...

DH and I are getting divorced. Have been a SAHM for the past 19 years and have no income of my own, whereas DH now earns a lot. The split is not amicable, and I can't afford a lawyer, whereas DH has plenty of cash to spend on one. I'm really concerned he's going to completely screw me over. So I'm thinking, the first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.

I'm looking for advice on dealing with DD's (18mo) tantrums. If she doesn't get what she wants she flings herself on the floor, or will bite, hit or scratch me. And though she be but little, she is fierce.

To be unreasonable , or not to be unreasonable: that is the question

"Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and the rest of us spend far too much time on mumsnet."

LADY MACBETH
O, never
61 Shall sun dat morrow peep biaaatch!
62 Yo crazy-ass face, mah thane, be as a funky-ass book where pimps
63 May read strange matters. To beguile tha time,
64 Look like tha time; bear welcome up in yo' eye,
65 Yo crazy-ass hand, yo' tongue: be lookin like tha innocent flower,
66 But be tha serpent under't yo. Dude thatz comin
67 Must be provided for: n' you shall put
68 This nightz pimped out bidnizz tha fuck into mah dispatch;
69 Which shall ta all our nights n' minutes ta come
70 Give solely sovereign sway n' masterdom.

I am not Shakespeare's biggest fan so thought I would join in by Gizoogling a bit of Macbeth.

Great minds, balls

Now, OYBBK, is the winter of our discontent going to be made glorious by the sun of York?
And where is nice to eat there, apart from Betty's?

When shall we vipers meet again?
In Waitrose, Boden or in rain. the children won't melt
When the school run all is done,
And online battles lost and won,
There'll be G&T at set of sun.

Witch 1
When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

Witch 2
When the hurlyburly's done,
When the battle's lost and won.

Witch 3
See you at the Rising Sun. I'll get the in.