A recurring theme appears in this "poem" by Dr. Deb:

A bunch of the dawgs were whooping it up in the Malamute saloon;
The whiskey was flowing, the cards they were dealt. A fiddle was playing a tune.
Back of the bar, in a solo game, sat Dangerous Deb. Who knew?
And watching her pluck was the main (NO WAY!) man, a fella from Coloradu.

At first it was cool ‘tween the peeps and the troll.
She thought they were clever. They thought she was droll.
Then suddenly things took a turn for the worse.
The shtick had worn thin. She wanted to curse.

A normal folk wouldn’t have been there at all.
A normal folk would have left then.
But she set her sights on the jester of shlock.
The hombre the hombra did mock.

The outrage, the fury!
How DARE you insult
The hombre’s young child?
Oy phuqing gevult.

Now listen you dawgs who like to whoop up
In bars that are named for snowdogs.
Be careful when fighting. Keep target in sight!
And NEVER go trolling on blogs.

(Bold mine)


It seems Dr. Deb is of the mind that the worst of her conduct thus far has been "insulting" and not threatening/disturbing/creepy/illegal. Check the record, posted on this blog, and tell me what you think.


For me, the answer is "all of the above", especially illegal.

(http://debfrisch.com/archives/2006/08/dangerous_deb_w_1.html)