A Rebuttal

Now, let's get something straight.  The Moot House has been ringing with claims that I am in some way a "violent, menopausal tyrant who throws phones at people that annoy her, before kicking them in the shins with her steel toe-capped boots."
Which is fair comment.
Let's face it, if you had to deal with the kind of half-witted, flower-and-pixie-loving day dreamers that I have to every day, you'd be inclined to go around smashing doors down with a wood-splitting maul and hanging Drayton Parslow over the M1 from the Ridgmont Bypass bridge by the ankles.
But the accusations that I am short-tempered are completely unfair.  No, if I have to inflict violence - in love, I hasten to add - I pray and meditate for days in advance.  And then carry out the sentence in a spirit of loving correction.  And "brooding"?  Where did that come from?  No, once I have the Beaker Folk back to a suitable attitude of fear and apprehension I feel remarkably relaxed.
Unless they really annoy me.  In which case I throw a phone at them.