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?

I am still my mother's child!

Oh, let me tell you about fleeing the terror, hidden in a tumbril filled with cabbages, my jewels sewn into my stays...Zut!

Ha!

Now that my little Jane is gone, who shall satisfy my needs?

I might be blind, but food and f**k is what I want.

HULLY! Where is my dinner?

And JAMIE, where's my buxom wench when I need her?

There is nothing like reading the first post and the last post and wondering exactly how much wine you've drunk...

Madame Defarge, your entrance stirs my memories of your mother and her tricotage as my family went to their doom (tho' I'm awarding points for the rouge in the reticule).

(And even more points for Jamie's 'Infamy' line!)

Mistress Hully, I fear you are found out by Mr Rochester, you hussy.

Look everyone! Tis dear Captain Darcy Casuabon-Henchard come to call!

And outside in the phaeton several of his officers await, hopeful of an introduction and a sup of stirrup cup for Christmas. Let us welcome them in.

Oh, before i forget. Footman! Please take a ladder to the east side of the shrubbery where I fear the Princessa fell down the old mine shaft.

Captain dear, do take care of the angry blind old beast stumbling about in the corner, tis a pet of the harlot-wench yonder.

Mais, M'sieur Rochesteeer! I 'ear you 'ave much experience of spirited ladies!

I am sure you know 'ow to 'andle a gently bred demoiselle with the 'eart of a courtesan?

This hall is truly becoming Sodom and Gomorrah! Why I have been on house calls with Dr Ernest and return to wanton women offering themselves with ease and little honour!

I must take my leave from this place lest I too become less of the lady I pride myself to be.

Dear Gibbon speaks truly.

I believe we might all take a few moments to reflect on the meaning of this season for ourselves and others.

...

I go away for five seconds and look what you loons have got into!

Pray what would Bran say? Ah well, bring me an ale, wench, and I'll join in.

CheerfulYank, you sound like a woman of the world.

Let's have a mince pie and a swig from the cup that cheers. (While averting our eyes from Mme Defarge and Rochester on the sofa, obviously.)

Bottoms up! As we regimentals say.

(Twirls moustache furiously in presence of a lady.)

Pah! Thees Engleesh Milor' 'as no stamina!

Surely there must be a real man 'ere?

I have bethought me of the meaning of this yuletide and it has been borne in upon me that we have indeed succumbed to lascivious and unseemly ways. I fear tis the natural consequence of being so much removed from the world, sequestered amongst these halls, that has allowed our emotions to grow and riot unchecked.

To this end I have issued an invitation to Mother Flaphappy of the Blessed Order of Redemmed Wenches to pay us a visit with her specialist scourging company that we may be purged in time for the birth of the holy lamb. I do hope that you will all be able to stay and partake of the cleansing?

Aha! That frightened them all off.

poorbuthappy....ive only had one baileys. omg that stuff is strong!! i also read first post....then last. bad baad idea

Oooo! bThat gave me a nasty turn! I thought for a moment twas indeed Mother Flaphappy, but twas only a vicar in a tutu gliding through.

Sup heartily my merry men- for later......we dance. And verrily again the halls shall be filled with heels uplifted, clicking and whirling.

aha! more gentlemen!

Bienvenue messieurs!

My dance card is sadly empty, do fill it up, ere the moral mojority vent their said, withered, speen upon our merriment!

Oh heavens! What is she doing here? I thought I had driven her off with mention of Mother Flaphappy. Look how she flashes her petticoats! She is quite the wanton.

Mme! How delightful to see you! Pray, would you care to take a turn about the ha ha with Lieutenant Rampant-Forsythe Ffotheringaylord?

Ding dong!

Oh I say! (in Leslie Philips vein)

Footman! Quick quick there is a groaning and a death rattle coming from yonder mine shaft - hasten thee (didn't I send you earlier, you dolt!).

Oh Tis she, but still breathing, just! Fetch compresses and possets. Lieutenant Rampant-Forsythe Ffotheringaylord, put the French Fancy down and carry the Princessa to the chaise forthwith.

Is this still a den of iniquity? I pray not and trust you all stand suitably chastened?
Why on earth are there men laid around the call like discarded leftovers? Oh dear God what fresh hell is this!

I fear I have lost dear Hully to the dark side. The lady in her has long since left.

Alas I am bereft of all hope for the ladies of this hall. That princess has much to answer for and as for that French woman (and I use the term loosely let me tell you)

Gibbon!

Gibbon, pray help me in my mission to redeem the ladies of these halls. I fear I cannot manage alone.

These soldiers kindly agreed to stand guard against the marauding enemies that roam without. The...er...enemy enemies and suchlike

Shall we conduct a short service? Or indeed a long one. I fear with the Princessa and the French Fancy twill be no quick matter. They are verily far gone in twilight lusts.

Dearest Hully, is that really you? I fear I hardly know you anymore with your obsession for all things lustful.

Oh I do hope you have been rid of these base desires...a service is indeed in order and with much haste too.

Gibbon, I hardly know what has possessed me of late. I fear it was all the royal and French influences and then that bawdy wench stealing darling Mr Rochester away.... It all overcame me and led me astray. I have dallied in the paths of silken lusts, but no more!

I shall betake me to the tiny chapel beyond the ha ha and pray on bended knee for renewed purity of heart. Mayhap I shall send for Mother Flaphappy after all.