High street fashion chain, Next, have admitted that offensive comments and death threats posted on Facebook came directly from them, not a hacker as first reported.
The comments were posted as the chain launched a Facebook page to find two new baby models, and were directed at the parents of the 'really fucking ugly' babies.
'The standard was appallingly low,' states a Next spokesperson. 'We had to swiftly address the issue. Every morning we would check Facebook, praying for a sexy little mite, only to be faced with skinny, ugly fuckers. Nobody wants to buy clothes that have been modelled by a fucking ugly, probably bastard, child. They should actually die.'
The mother of one of the 'fucking ugly' children says resignedly: 'Yes, Lambreeney is fucking ugly, I very much appreciate being told. I have now drowned him.'
Karina Evans 2010
Showing posts with label agony. Show all posts
Showing posts with label agony. Show all posts
Sunday, 31 October 2010
Tuesday, 15 June 2010
Round and round and round
I am at work. 'What a stupid time to be at work', I hear you cry, and I am inclined to agree. This is for three main reasons: the first being that it is four-oh-fucking-five in the morning. The second is that I have had to bloody well drive all the way to Eastbourne for the 'pleasure', and the third that I have been temporarily demoted, thus have to walk round and round in fucking circles every sodding twenty minutes to look at people who are, quite sensibly, asleep. Operation Shawshank, for the love of God, will you HURRY UP...
Monday, 14 June 2010
All the best laid plans
Right. Fairly productive morning, as I have already completed the following tasks:
Inadvertently shown the meter-reading man my nipples
Had a cup of coffee
Decided what I am going to do for the rest of the day.
That brings me nicely to the tasks I must complete:
Finish poem that I never should have started: it is the poetry equivalent of emotional bulimia, thus is eating my brain
Finish doodle article
Eat crisps
Sleep
Go to work
Get changed into more substantial clothes, lest I scare the postman.
All the best laid plans...
Inadvertently shown the meter-reading man my nipples
Had a cup of coffee
Decided what I am going to do for the rest of the day.
That brings me nicely to the tasks I must complete:
Finish poem that I never should have started: it is the poetry equivalent of emotional bulimia, thus is eating my brain
Finish doodle article
Eat crisps
Sleep
Go to work
Get changed into more substantial clothes, lest I scare the postman.
All the best laid plans...
Location:Parker Rd,Hastings,United Kingdom
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