Someone calling themselves “No, NickM, I Still Don’t Love YOU!” on a comment to IanB’s recent article called me “Nicky”. That was at the end of a long post. It started like this:
“NickM, you really need to get that obsession about me checked out, you stupid wanker.”
Nobody in any fucking semblance of their right mind wants to get into a swearing match with me. Just call me uncle Toby (not Nicky) and cunt the fuck off you pigeon-chested abattoir creeper, you abysmal twat. I know I could get your IP address but I couldn’t give a shitting fuck – you have been warned and any more Tomfoolery will be sharply dealt with. Nobody calls me “Nicky”. Nobody has actually called me “Nicholas” since I was in primary school apart from a registrar of births, deaths and marriages in Manchester nearly five years ago (I was fortunately there for the last of that trinity) and I guess that was for legal reasons.
CCinZ has around 20,000 comments (thank you!). In all that time I have IP banned one person. That was because he or she made specific death threats – an NHS employee from Huddersfield who thought I should be nice to Islam and due to my “intolerance” wanted to kill me. He didn’t go as far as calling me “Nicky” mind. That crosses the Yalu and gets the Sabres scambled if you ask me. Which you didn’t of course.
Call me whatever but just don’t call me “Nicky”. It grates. And it fights. And it really does because my wife is not any of the bewildering shortenings of “Elizabeth” but “Lizzy” with a “y” which is the traditional spelling.
So, don’t call me “Nicky” unless you want a rise because that is what you will get and all Hell will follow with it.