How To Bag A Pooclubber
by HRH Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh
Now I've explained to you all about
so I'm not going through that again.
Tough titty to those of you who weren't paying attention.
But what you will now need to know is how to identify the pooclub characters
that you're going to encounter in the forum.
So listen carefully, because I won't say it twice.
Johnny Pooclubber is a sneaky chap.
He comes in many guises so you've got to be on your toes at all times.
He has no regard for fair play, and will quite readily cheat, abuse, lie
and in extreme cases ignore you.
So, rifles at the ready, stiff upper lip, and let's go bag some pooclubbers
Mike - founder
Likes to call himself Mike Two-Sheds but others prefer to to call him
Nobsack, Fuckface, Cuntbreath and other similar appellations.
A Yorkshireman hiding in Islington, London
he'll try and throw you off his scent by regularly changing the email
address from which he posts.
He puts this down to the transient nature of his employment, attributing
this to what he calls his 'free spirit contractor lifestyle',
but you'll easily be able to identify him as he talks like a right cock.
Ciaran - official jester
This fiendish rogue will try to hide behind a multitude of identities,
Simon Hite, Kitchen Boy, Salad Chomper, Mary, to name but a few.
A tricky prey to catch; he rarely ventures beyond the security of his house
(usually the kitchen) due to his fear of the outside world despite living
in a remote part of North Yorkshire where there's fuck all but fields.
He can usually be recognised by the sneering noise he makes when pouring scorn
on anything that's not part of his kitchen where he likes to lurk and perform
Naomi - complaints manager
This foulmouthed harridan from Essex, now resident in Cornwall, is perhaps
the easiest to spot.
You will probably hear the torrent of abuse from her potty mouth long before
you actually encounter her.
She can also be recognised by her regular whinges and calls of 'It's a fix',
'When are we going back to Yahoo?' and 'Fuck off, Mike'.
It is no coincidence that an anagram of her name is 'I moan'.
If you do have any difficulties tracking her down, the best tactic is to
disqualify her from a game with a highly contrived excuse.
Corianderdog - lumberjill
What the blazes is a Canadian?
Neither British nor American if you ask me.
At least they're pretty handy with a hunting rifle,
but in my opinion they should be the quarry, not the hunters.
Holly - P.A.
A good personal assistant is worth her weight in gold.
This one, from London, isn't even worth her weight in horse shit.
I wouldn't trust this lazy, good for nothing, waste of good air
to wipe my polo pony's arse.
BM - special needs assistant
Derbyshireman BM calls himself 'Big Mike' ostensibly to differentiate himself from the other
Mike but in reality to piss him off.
From what I can see, BM’s only purpose appears to be to spare Brian from
being pooclub’s thickest spaz.
He won't be missed - in either sense of the word.
Ian - grammarian
This pedantic bastard from Merseyside will pick you up on the slightest grammatical
error or spelling mistake.
Well, he'd better not try it on on me.
We Greeks invented the bloody English language, you know.
Jim - quality control tester
As a senior member of the royal family I am expected to uphold and support
But I really do have to draw the line at Morris dancing.
This twat from Oxford truly has no shame, and what a load of old twaddle
he talks too.
I'd like to say 'pull the other one - it's got bells on' but in his case it actually has.
Joel - spiritual guidance counsellor
An East Londoner, now living in Hong Kong, Joel will sometimes post a load
of Zen stuff to pooclub.
Personally, I've no time for all that Buddhist nonsense.
What's wrong with a proper religion like what those
Yaohnanen people on Vanuatu worship?
Keith - catering supplier
An ex-pat, now living in the Czech Republic, whatever that is.
I suspect he's a bit of an aging hippie.
Probably needs a good wash, and a haircut.
And a spell in the army.
Hell, let's just shoot the blighter now and have done with it.
Victor - bread advisor
South African, but not one of them 'blicks'.
Works for a flour mill from which he happily dispenses advice on bread
Other pooclubbers will try to hide him from you by maintaining that he
lives in Milton Keynes. Yes, they're a sneaky lot as I said.
So, there you have it.
A disreputable bunch of ne'er-do-wells if ever I saw one.
Get your trigger fingers at the ready, take a steady aim, and FIRE!
Er, I mean
HRH Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh
Cull a pooclubber
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