Spoofs, Jokes and Trolls

[Hullygully]

Right.

I want a serious debate about this.

I started a joke thread, in my own name as usual, about a neighbour stealing a spoon.

It was questioned as "trolling" and I got told off by Rebecca at MNHQ.

Are spoofs and/or jokes no longer allowed?

Since when?

And why?

What do people think about spoofs, jokes and trolls and the difference theereof?

I thonk LeQueen and Randall should write a humorless drama for bbc3. You've got the bones of it already. You could call it PO.

We need to have a lose the Po meet up...bad ass cocktails at the door. mandatory. lots of loud cheesy music you just have to dance to...you CAN get sparkle! it rubs off! after a bit.

yes totally agree that they are the One Best Friend type.

Actually there was an article in last week's Grazia about friendships - one woman moved to Australia and whenever she showed he friend back in England pictures of her going out with some new friends she got the waterworks and accusations of 'moving on without her'. Who the hell would want that kind of intense friendship?

Sorry madame, it was unspoken. You'd obviously be Head Writer and lequeen and randall would be your unders.

Did you decide where to go, GetOeuf?

thank you tufty. I am appeased. Am happy to be part of team, with editorial control as it is a professional speciality. someone needs to keep LaQ from savaging the poodles.

I've had run-ins with posters before (usually on a particular subject and probably only one poster) but I never get a chance to bear a grudge because they always disappear - or in other words namechange. Then when I think I have spotted them I'm never sure enough, and inevitably get more of the same from them.

Oh fuck the POs. Let them deal with my life for 5 minutes as I sit here waiting to hear if my husband can get to my son because there's a security alert on the M1 by his daycare because some fucking stupid PO thinks the way to get heard is to plant a suspicious package.

This is the second time this month we've had this problem, with roads closed between me and my son.

Troubles are over? Fuck that for a box of rocks.

You want to meet the POs? Come to fucking NI. They're running the place.

::and breathe::

Actually can I be an under too?

They don't like animals because they're dirty. They quote The Expess as fact. If they go to the beach they make tnheir kids wear wet suits incase one tiny particle of sun gets at them. They eat sandwiches that they made together before they left, they consulted before hand so as not to double up on the cheese, that would be a disaster. They tut and tut walking from the car through the dunes. They keep there shoes on and go to the dog section of the beach. They don't go there because they like dogs they go so they can do lots of tutting and be all dog in the manger (ish) about dogs. They shreik if a dog comes within 20 feet of them or their children. They eat their sandwichea at 11.45, because they want to leave at 12.45 to beat the traffic. If one of theri dc drop a sandwich in the sand they snatch it away in case one grain is ingested....

Blimey Tee, I can't imagine. Hope he gets to him soon.

To be fair, LaQueen, I don't think it's got anything at all to do with the sort of material stuff you mention. Trust me, plenty of people round here, myself included, would be delighted with a steady income, regular work in the house and a functioning car. I know it seems dull to you, but it would actually be quite exotic in these parts.

BURN BURN BURN

Yes bof I am going to that London. Fuck it.

There must be a hotel in the whole of the capital that is sufficiently lovely for you- have you asked in Chat?

MiniPo1 is wildly annoying because she lives her life around her friends house and only ever comes reluctantly home. even though the Po house is scrubbed to within an inch of its live, and her bf lives in a slovenly household full unnecessary and dust gathering objects like books and half made meccano... MiniPo2 huddles under his duvet each weekend imagining another life...away from the porcelain...away from the smell of overcooked veg. away from the spit on the hankie before school ritual...

away from the rage and fear that flickers over the Pos fave when gazing,limp tea towel in hand, out into the immaculate, strangled garden.

Buppers is regularly savaged. She tells them to get bent, which I rather admire.

Yes, loads of lovely hotels but they costs HUNDREDS the fuckers.

face, not fave gah. musnt kill narrative by spelling infelicities...