They're Slithering Through So They Are...

They get between the smallest cracks you know...up they pop spitting and poking...pressing peoples buttons just to annoy.

And I wonder what lives they lead...maybe they're shifty-eyed and have long dirty finger-nails...sitting on a broken armchair with the springs coming through the seat...surrounded by empty takeaway Pizza cartons and grimy mugs, with the dregs of strong tea growing interesting fungi in the bottom.

They might try to wheedle their way into the Dark Net...choosing an unlikely moniker to enter dubious chat rooms where they giggle and exchange ideas of where next to target...

Maybe they don't have greasy hair and body odour...though I always have a feeling that they are strangers to personal hygiene and last bought shampoo in 1968...could be they are upright citizens' who live in a semi-detached with bay windows and spend Sundays mowing the lawn and complaining about the price of fish before eating a roast with all the trimmings...

They may have a little yappy dog who gets under their feet and a wife who wears a hair net in bed and bleaches the draining board and knits crinoline ladies to put over the loo rolls...

On the other hand many are female.

And it is the female of the species, who, I regret to say, is the expert at delivering sharp barbs to the unwitting and the perfectly innocent.

Snapping at teenagers doing their level best to produce something of use...rounding on those who side with said teenager and in one totally appalling set of incidents, revealing the most trusted and intimate secrets of someone else's life on FaceAche for practically the entire world to see.

Do these women bleach their draining boards and hang out their washing on a windy day...can't actually imagine them cooking supper and stroking the cat...sorting through the 'fridge and finding a lump of mouldy cheese...sitting in a café with a cup of coffee, chatting to a friend.

Those people aren't wired like us.

They can't be can they...they can't have the normal worries about the lecky bill or the unsuitable lad going out with their daughter...surely they don't look aghast at cellulite on their thighs and grumble about their husband snoring...

And when do they open up their laptop and sit there with their shoulders round their ears so no-one can see the vitriol they post apparently at random...picking out a victim the way we'd choose a ripe Pineapple.

I've been trawling YouTube today you see...looking for ideas using Polymer clay mostly...then Air Drying Clay. It was on one of the Air Drying clay videos that a spiteful troll popped their head above the parapet and launched an attack on a teenage girl who was demonstrating how to make your own clay.

My inclination was to applaud her efforts...many others said precisely the same...but there was this one dissenting voice who stood out clearly.

Mean, spiteful and hurtful they were.

No matter how many praised the girl and said her video was helpful...which it was...she's going the remember the one voice who came over loud and clear...

That of the feckin' troll.