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For those of you contacting me via other media, I'm not Nice Admin Lady. I'm neither nice, nor particularly administrative and certainly no lady. So should you require a password reset, flounce assistance or a hand-job, I'm not your gal. I've only ever had one name here and in the real world as that system seems to work well.
Toodle-pip
Xxx
Yes, fun as it is to play this, I'm really just me. I massively commend the individual who is doing the job very well, but that person is not me. So please can the messages on Twitter, Facebook and my personal e-mail cease and desist. It's annoying. And like rather too many things associated with here currently, not very funny.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gravatar
All about gravatars.
Whilst I genuinely take this as a massive compliment, I'm not Mary and Mary isn't me.
1. I haven't written a book - I'm too busy trying to keep calm and order.
2. I am not from daaahn saaahrf.
3. Mary doesn't have time to dally about with admin stuff, that's why I'm here.
It probably really is quite annoying for her to receive the millions of inane complaints adoring emails which I receive on a daily basis through various social media thingys, so can we just stick with the official Nice Admin Lady email channel please? Surely the greatest giveaway is that if you ask Mary about passwords/ gravatar/ flounce assistance she'll tell you to f*** off, whereas I will endeavour to help.
Also if you're all still adamant that I am in fact, Mary Evans, you're bribing the wrong person for the Writer of the Month award. So although your money/ chocolate/ wine is probably gratefully received by Mary, it's not actually having any bearing on the WoM result. Last laugh's on you.
Related: You know that game where you write a name on a post it, stick it on someone's head and they have to guess who they are? Well we are NOT playing that at the Christmas party because you're all rubbish and it'll drag on longer than a game of monopoly played by chimps.
Love, Nice Admin Lady.
"So although your money/ chocolate/ wine is probably gratefully received by Mary, it's not actually having any bearing on the WoM result. Last laugh's on you."
Is this intended to imply that if these bribes were addressed correctly, they would have a bearing on the result? Or are you going to have to stand up in the House of Commons and deny any possibility of such corrupion?
Dear Nice Admin Lady: please forgive my asking, but - with the greatest respect - why would contributors (or former contributors or would-be contributors) feel they need to seek your assistance in order to flounce?
Surely, with a flounce, you just do it? It doesn't say much for the competence of flouncers if they feel they need assistance or guidance as to how to go about it.
Eh, flouncers nowadays ... rubbish. When I were a lad, folks really knew 'ow t'flounce. And right fine founces we 'ad in them days. Real flounces, none of yer soft Southern girly flounces like we gets from t'kids of today.
Titus, a word to the wise. Real flouncers almost never leave. They continue to log on to view the crappy comments people make about them to the point where they become so enraged that they have to write something equally crappy and cutting. The circle of life and all. Oh, and alcohol is normally involved in a flounce.
An astute observation, rikkor - thank you.
But it begs the question: why should flouncers (or would-be flouncers) feel they need any guidance from our Nice Admin Lady? Surely her ladyship is kept busy enough coping with - among many other things - stubborn pillocks like me who steadfastly decline to flounce?
Perhaps we could set up a Garden of Remembrance for departed flouncers? Or perhaps designate a National Flouncers Remembrance Day? I can even see a memorial eventually being set up somewhere to "The Unknown Flouncer".
(Isn't there a spare memorial somewere that was mentioned here a while ago, built by some arrogant tosspot local councillor, without planning permission? Perhaps that could be recycled?)
I like the idea of a Garden of Remembrance.
Once a month, while we are all wondering if NAL has forgotten to nominate anyone for an imaginary mug, we can set aside a few moments for quiet reflection.
A fresh turd could be placed on the headstone of a fallen comrade, and left to go furry and white.
Look not to the writer's room for the funny, for I am not there...
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