drivelling on about twaddle

. . . is the sum total of what MLC does (c.f. the guaranteed plagiarised Albion Farts). And now she requests that I wade through acres of her bilge about the "gift" of learning disabilities and associated dangerous twaddle to identify where she slagged off a band to which she has never even listened. If she can't keep an archive of the tripe she's churned out already, how can she expect a publication to hire her to write professionally? (Whisper to Dave (eG): maybe (f)Dave was being just a teensy-weensy bit metallic?)

And for fuck's sake, can she stop referring to contributors as "dinkums" and "sweetums". Is this some sort of Lord Of The Rings affectation? Her and Tolkien alike just make themselves look yet more bonkers.