I really can’t add anything to this because it’s basically brilliant. I wish I could get my arse in gear and write some proper articles to send to the Vagenda in the hope they will publish them and make my life complete.
Anyway, Samantha Brick. Trading in the Daily Mail Dollars for being a massive twat. If she believes even a fraction of the complete and utter fucking nonsense she writes about (which one suspects she probably does because Really? Actually fucking really?) then let’s not even feel sorry for her. Not even a little bit. Not even when her dickhead husband throws his home-made creme caramel at the wall because it just wasn’t right and orders her to spend 3.5 hours on the treadmill because she’s put on 0.001lb by sniffing the creme caramel she made him for lunch and his moustache is all angry about it.
As much as I hate directing y’all to the DM’s lovely deep and plentiful coffers, here, read this craziness. Brick has got Liz Jones running for her money. Perhaps it’s a secret succession plan, for when Liz has too many animals and expensive handbags to care for and can no longer write articles about things. You be the Judge.
Anyway; here’s the old Brick, courtesy of The Vagenda, now after admitting she’s so beautiful it hurts women everywhere, if you’re going to be a wife, be submissive or you shall die alone, and now, if you’re even a bit overweight, you should hang yourself in the shed because you’re not trying hard enough at life and also you deserve to die alone. You should, in fact, be starving yourself instead of having a career, eating lovely cake, being smart, talented, interesting, funny, kind, a worthwhile human being, basically because if you’re overweight then you should fuck the fuck off. Jesus, has Liz Jones got a pension plan?
So check this awesome assessment of her bitter tripe here.