"There are no snide anti-feminist comments for me to make. Lauren, what have you done! "

That was actually Femboy Pup, who is an identity thief and possible website hacker, and attempts to impersonate Dale Bloom.

It appears some feminist has let loose the Dogs from Hell, but all we got was Femboy Pup.

I would recommend a withdrawal from watching TV. This may cause various symptoms at first, such as your body becomes racked by convulsions, and you may start hallucinating, and find yourself walking into electrical appliance shops for a glimpse of anything plasma. You may start sleepwalking, with your arm outstretched, trying to find the TV button. You begin phoning friends and relatives, enquiring if anything interesting happened on TV last night.

But eventually the symptoms of withdrawal may gradually ease, and you begin a more ethereal existence, free from the concerns of what channel to watch, and which celebrity has put on weight, and whether their cellulite is showing.

Dang, you can’t even remember the last time you sat through a commercial break, and you begin other activities, such as breathing, or eating normally at a table, or walking on the beach at night, listening to the waves and looking up at the stars.

Best of luck in your withdrawals.

I recommend that you sit at home. Alone. Like me. With only my keyboard and my spite for company.

Femboy Pup has lots of time, impersonating others, carrying out identity theft, hacking into computers and reading feminist instruction manuals.

You don’t know how disappointing it was for the men, Femboy Pup. There they were, with sharpened spears and swords, ready for the Dogs from Hell to come rushing out, with eyes aflame and teeth gnashing. Instead, out trots Femboy Pup, with a fat belly and limp paws, wanting to be cuddled, and given a bowl of warm milk.

Some of the men were so disappointed they simply turned around and walked to the pub.

But early start today, and late getting home, and I guess watching TV is for those who have nothing better to do.

I suppose that no-one, including myself, has any idea what that means.

Well Femboy Pup, it seems the Dogs from Hell have now complained to Feminism Incorporated that you have been sleeping in late, you keep tripping over your feet and chasing your tail, and generally making all the other dogs look bad.

It appears no one wants a feminist, not even the Dogs from Hell.

But I will make it easier for you. I have changed the wording of my occupation, and you will probably change the wording of your occupation to match as you normally do, and early tomorrow morning I will change it again.

So all you have to do is wake up early to change the wording of your occupation to match mine again. It is simple enough, and even you could do it.

Yes...wise move. But HOW COULD YOU STAND IT?? I won't reveal that...and so-n-so did...and 9u45854toeg03- .and even Marjean said 848856566. :)

Now this is interesting. Back here some academics were claiming they were working 60-70 hours per week.

https://theconversation.edu.au/cracks-in-the-ivory-tower-is-academias-culture-sustainable-8294

Now anyone working 60-70 hours per week would know there is very little or no time left for watching TV.

So I can’t see how academics have anytime for watching TV, or basically they were making up a story about working 60-70 hours per week..

If you like the pomp and circumstamce of English law, there's also a rather interesting series that just started somewhere late at night called Garrow's Law.

Set in the late 1700s it follows the career of an upstart reforming barrister (Garrow) and also stars that salty old character actor Alun Armstrong (the bike riding obsessive from New Tricks).

The interesting thing about this show - at least to me - is that it is deeply authentic, showing the absurd rules and restrictions imposed on defence counsel, the roots of solicitors and barristers and the fact that barristers were essentially not permitted to mount a defence on anything but character, not even allowed to meet the defendant, and were not permitted to address the jury at all.

The other thing that is of interest is that the wigs, gowns and supercilious pomposity of it all is unchanged from that era.

You'll have to track it down - I have too many channels and no idea when it was on other than late Saturday night. I watch TV in a hypnoidal zombie-like state and remember nothing.

Period costume Ms R???? I thought dressing up in contemporary legal frockery was a radical move in anachronistic theatre.