AIBU to be annoyed when I make a really good point on a thread

[SerenityNowAKABleh]

and then it's ignored, and either I have to repeat it, or then someone else comes and makes exactly the same point and everyone goes "oh yes, that's quite clever" "what a good and inciteful point" and so on. Maybe I should just type in caps?
So, AIBU?

You, Madame, have been disgracefully neglectful. And where is the bush you promised to show us? Mr Rochester is agog.

Said Bush was pertaining to my excellent rendition of 'Wuthering Heights'... You saw it, alright, and so did Mr. Rochester.

Mind you, I did show him my muff.

That might explain his purple-hued face.

You bare-faced wanton hussy.

No wonder Mr Rochester has been having at the opiates. What with the spirits and the muffs, it's a wonder the poor man can draw breath.

Now, I thought mutton for dinner? Or braised sweetmeat?

I have been remiss.

In my defence, he showed me his scarf.

I shall have nothing but gruel as my vittels, t'will be a lesson for me.

tethers! You will be shunned by society for your carrryings on!

I meant to visit earlier, but was abed with a head cold. My delicate constitution, and whatnot.

No you weren't, you naughty minx. You were tripping gaily about the board dropping your bon mots hither and yon.

Has anyone seen Gibbon, the Princessa or dear departed Miss Minty?

It will soon be time to dine and the broth will cool. (Not you tethers, get in the corner with your gruel and select some improving verse for Mr Rochester)

Perhaps I was having a dalliance with the kitchen boy...

I think you have been cavorting on the top deck of the charabanc. We shall inspect your nostrils in due course.

Oh no! In that case I must away before my secret is found out.

(or in reality, before anyone wonders why I didn't leave work when I was done 20 minutes ago )

Found the window a little tight where the derriere is concerned...

Brush the dust from your posterior, Princessa. We shall shortly be going in to dine. Mr Rochester offers you his arm.

That arm's been in my muff, I'll have you know.

Now wash your hands.

Dinner, eh? Not roasted quail again? Hully, you can have Rochester's arm (it might be more palatable).

Tethers, may I compliment you on the recent adjustment to your name.

And let's hope the muff was ermine-lined.

Why thank you, your highness

Madame Defarge?

Why I am speechless! Oh that my tongue were more bitter and my wit more sharp I would put thee in thy place 'princess' (though I doubt thee dear lady to be anything of the sort)

I fear another attack of the vapors, in fact the hysteria is such I am not even able to express it through dance! Oh weak heart! stay strong and fight this accusation!
Alas, I cannot calm myself within your company at dinner. I shall retire for the evening. Fare thee well ladies and of course darling Mr Rochester.

Come come, let us have calm for digestive purposes.

Gibbon, Princessa is on probation, keep your eyes honed upon her shaky credentials.

Princessa, Tether, we shall have an interlude with the harpsichord after dinner (and gruel). Mr Rochester is very fond of the strings. He has many of them to his bow.

[distant insane laughter]

[....I think my plan worked ! I have been recently haunting a poor ittle kitchen girl whispering plans of poisoning her tormentors...]

[wonders if the sleeping draught made it into the soup]

It seems to have worked - all are sleeping, or are they DEAD ?

MMMWWWAAAA ha ha ha ha ha

you see dead I tell you !

[dear little minty wonders why there is a piece of mutton on this empty chair]

[takes seat in empty chair and waits]

[a cobweb has formed on the candelabra]

But soft, what light through youder window breaks? Tis a faint, ghostly light! See how it shimmers, almost as if it laughs. What canst be?

I must away, summoned to the sick bed of poor Branwell. But I shall return, and I shall bring Father Brown, renowned exorcist with me.

And whilst in absentia, I shall puzzle upon diverse matters. Why did dear Mr Rochester show Tether his scarf? What work is this of which the Cheerful speaks? Whither Pag and Jamie, so sorely missed? Ah, there are so many mysteries that fill the vast, empty halls about us.

[insane muttering under breath]

Blast my plans were foiled once more. Did I hear word of the dreaded Father brown.

Where oh where can I hide, poor little me, alone and unloved by Hully.

[floats of towards the obliette the darkenss beckons to me]

Pag saw something in the cow shed.
Now she is much troubled and sips too readily at the fountain of happiness known in these parts as Oddbins.

Also her beloved is set against this decadent fashion known as Mumsnet which robs him of his darling wife - as does the presence of Mrs Pagwatch who reqires daughterly attention almost every fucking waking moment.

Too soon this season of festivity and pain in the butt relatives will pass and all will be well.

Pag sends Hully and Tether and Jamie and Yank and all her lovely ladies of this parish a brief adieu...

( DH is calling me to supper and he sounds mightily aggrieved)

... I disappear for five minutes and look what you lot get up to.

Weirdos.

(stumbles in, wincing) I think I partook of a few too many glasses of purely medicinal wine. Oh, how I suffer.