Katie Hopkins

GOBSHITE

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For some time now I have wanted to avoid writing something that would have the irony jump up out of the water and slap you in the face like a massive wet haddock but alas, I could resist no longer. As you grow older in life you learn to mute the people who you find to be intolerable. What your parents and other people don’t tell you while growing up is that you will undoubtedly meet people who simply don’t have a mute button. Katie Hopkins is one of those people who doesn’t possess one. Her gob is so big that trying to avoid it by walking around her would mean spending 40 days and 40 nights on a religious mission without food and water. If you have a car you’d simply run out of petrol and lose the will to live.

Now, if you have a quick browse around the website you will notice a plethora of videos and pictures that are linked to the people or the subject I am writing about. With this piece I just couldn’t bring myself to save a picture of Katie Hopkins, upload it and then put a pretty little border around it. Firstly I didn’t want to damage my downloads folder with such filth and secondly you can’t polish a turd. So instead I thought I’d put a meme that says what everybody thinks when their friend describes who Katie Hopkins is. Normally I am capable of avoiding her horribly written articles in The Sun newspaper because I generally like to read a newspaper that doesn’t like to write gossip, hearsay and distort stories in the name of creativity. Nor do I think that reading an article about a guy who burned his penis during some weird act of masturbation and as a result wants to sue his toaster manufacturer is “newsworthy”.

However, it has become increasingly difficult to avoid her or avoid anyone talking about her. I’d be as happy as the fat kid who loves cake, finished the cake and then found out there were two more waiting for him to gobble up before bedtime if I never saw her name or face ever again. Everyday I wake up and check e-mails and read the news but instead of being depressed at the chaos our world is in right now I have anger sharks circling around in my head waiting for the next person to come along, piss them off and subsequently have me berate them in such a manner that they leave feeling like I’d bitten off their leg. That is how I feel when I read her bile and rather uneducated and ill-informed opinions. Katie Hopkins makes the days of Nazi Germany and state controlled press look like a beach holiday in Malaga with the wife and kids. She is the perfect advocate for censorship of the press.

Katie Hopkins face has been seen in more places than a Catholic priest’s penis has touched choir boys. I log onto Facebook and there she is in my news feed because somebody from the Times, Daily Mail or the Guardian has written an article about her. Even Russell Brand with his Trews YouTube project is discussing the delightful blonde that is Katie Hopkins with a smile that shows off her pearly white teeth like the upper class toff poff poser she is. If Katie Hopkins was the Queen of England she’d be the Queen of Cuntery and the first Queen in history to declare a national holiday for upper class gobshites who think they know everything.

Russell Brand was right though. There clearly is something wrong with Katie Hopkins and she definitely needs help. Instead of throwing abuse and hate her way we should treat her like you would your 90 year old grandmother who is drunk on wine and dancing on the table with her knickers in the air. You chuckle softly and mumble “oh granny you devil you, behave yourself”. To be perfectly honest I had no idea who Katie Hopkins was until people started ranting and raving about her. They say that no publicity is bad publicity and fair play to her as she seems to have found a fast track system for attempting to be a journalist off the back of deliberately talking shite. Her entire career is based upon being a gobshite. Maybe that is where most of us are going wrong?

This article was brought to you by the Raging Potato and a slightly fatter, poorer, Irish version of Frankie Boyle.