Personally after a lot of research over a finger of fudge (that's the chocolate bar for those of perverse mind), I think I've come up with the answer.
I think that it is a puzzle akin to the "Da Vinci Code". I think people on here need to give various naughty favours, in a set order, to specially chosen folk. The crucial thing is that it has to be in order and the right naughty favour.
For example, one such code could be :
BIoke - Blow Job, NWC - Erotic Massage, Tankinky - Boob jiggle, Resonance - Trip to the Library and a cup of tea.
Believe me, if you decide to give me a BJ, you've well and truly blown it, in pretty much the same way as you'd confuse all the others by turning up with your library ticket and a packet of PG Tips. It is only upon completion of this seemingly impossible task, do the hallowed doors to moderation open for the select few who finally do break the code. You are then bestowed with limitless powers and can in effect, act as a god. Smiting people left right and centre, bringing flood and pestilence to all and sundry, or visiting people in a shower of gold, just because you can.
So I think we should applaud our intrepid adventurers Nola and Dave as they take their first tentative steps into moderation. For sure there will be tears, there will be tantrums, there will be nudity and probably crudity. That's just dealing with other mods. God knows what will happen with everyone else.
For the rest of us, the code is now reset. A new code. A tougher code... Who will be the next to unlock it? One things for sure... few people really give a rancid voles testes and few will read this far anyway so I may as well put the phrase "monkey scrota" in the middle of the sentence for no good reason at all.
Or to become a Mod, do you just bribe admin with sexual favours and chocolate?
One last thing, if Moderators have the power to ban people. This post was all the brainwork of Freckled Bird who forced me to post it by threatening to tell everyone on here that in fact I have a two inch penis (erect) and that I ejaculate uncontrollably whenever I hear the song "Shout!" by Lulu, which is a problem when that sodding T-Mobile advert filmed at the Railway Station comes on. You try explaining it away in Currys on a Saturday afternoon.
Thankfully however I have avoided that indignity.
I'll go now. Tara!
