It did not take long for the vultures to circle over the corpses left by the London terror attacks on Wednesday. It is an ill wind that blows nobody any good and in this case a notable profiteer was the despicable Katie Hopkins, laughably described last year by Donald Trump as a “respected columnist”. Hopkins is not a respected anything – her role in life is to insult, shock and offend, the media equivalent of urinating into someone’s drink in a public bar. For the past few years, pandering to the Neanderthals who lap this stuff up, Hopkins has attacked Muslims suggesting that they are, pretty much, to blame for everything bad that ever happened. When something bad happened to Muslims, namely being forced to flee from Syria and getting drowned en route, Hopkins wrote in The Sun that “Make no mistake, these migrants are like cockroaches. They might look a bit ‘Bob Geldof’s Ethiopia circa 1984’, but they are built to survive a nuclear bomb”. Hopkins eventually left The Sun and found her spiritual home in the Mail Online where she has continued in similar vein. Only last year she cost the paper £150,000 when she suggested with no evidence of any kind, that Mohammed Tariq Mahmood and Mohammed Zadiq Mahmood, two British men removed unceremoniously from a Disneyland-bound flight by US authorities, were terrorists with links to Al Quaeda. WTF cannot be bothered to repeat the litany of Hopkins’ other outrages from the mouth and pen of this disgusting excuse for a human being because whatever she writes just makes your skin crawl.
Even before Wednesday’s assailant and his victims had been identified, Hopkins was at it again, tweeting “We are not united. Multiculturalism means we die together too”. She then appeared on Trump’s favourite channel Fox News talking to his lickspittle Tucker Carlson where she said of London and Londoners, “People are cowed. People are afraid. And people are not united.” Bullshit. Hopkins does not live in London but 200 miles away in leafy Devon. The truth is a wholly optional work tool and one she prefers to do without. Never mind that Londoners lived through the IRA bombings and the 2005 Tube and Bus Bombings and the murder of Lee Rigby and the small matter of the Blitz. Never mind that everyone got up yesterday and went to work and carried on in the usual way and will carry on carrying on in the usual way today and tomorrow and the day after that. Never mind that her tweets and column were greeted with universal scorn and derision. If she can spew out poison in her column or on Fox to bemused Americans who think she knows something, she will be there like a rat up a drainpipe. Presumably Fox viewed Hopkins as an expert but then Fox viewed Judge Andrew Napolitano as an expert and look where that got them. (And him. Fox has buried him deeper than nuclear waste). The only expertise that Hopkins has is in being utterly vile.
Not that she was alone. There was racist thug Tommy Robinson, erstwhile Head of the English Defence League, arriving at Westminster in record time to stir up hate and fear and to press for mass internment and deportations and ranting about Islam as a “fascist religion calling for murder in 110 verses”. And of course there was Nigel Farage, Trump’s arselicker-in-chief, quick to throw his hate, sorry, hat, into the ring, calling for stricter vetting of immigrants and refugees. Except that the late and unlamented Khalid Masood, né Adrian Elms, was born in Kent 52 years ago and so was neither an immigrant nor a refugee. WTF hopes that Masood rots in hell but he had as much right to be in the UK as Farage, who was also born in Kent 52 years ago. Yes, we have a serious problem in Britain and in Europe with Islamic Terrorism. But the likes of Farage and Hopkins are not providing the answers because they are too busy cosying up to Trump whilst furthering their job prospects.
Let us cheer ourselves up with the week’s sartorial sluice bucket starting with actress Mandy Moore, wearing Diane von Furstenburg.
WTF is mystified and then she is mystified some more. Those colours are really horrible together. Mandy seems to have based her look on Top Cat, minus the hat and whiskers.
Next up we have ghastly Z-lister, former TOWIE-person and giant pain in the arse Lauren Goodger on her way to visit her boyfriend in prison, wearing Finders Keepers.
Time was that visiting your boyfriend in chokey was not something you would want publicised but when you are a crap celebrity with nothing else to offer apart from your ever-changing weight issues, you have to make use of whatever you can. So it is that Lauren visited Joey Morrison, currently serving 16 years for violent drug-related crimes (he sounds like a real keeper), in full glare of the cameras and dressed for a July garden party in a giant folded tablecloth and grey over-the-knee boots, making her legs look like bandaged gangrene. Lauren – please go away.
Next up, we have model Suki Waterhouse, wearing Rasario.
This is like three separate dresses put together. The top third is lurex pixie, the middle third is Victorian bloomers and the bottom third is boudoir negligee. They have as much to do with each other as Nigel Farage and the Muslim Council of Great Britain.
Meet a newcomer to these pages, actress Naomi Scott at the premiere of her new movie Power Rangers, wearing Chanel. Chanel!
No, sorry, WTF is not having this. Chanel!? This is a slip and a back to front apron. Mme Coco must be turning in her grave.
This is Kourtney Kardashian wearing rubbish trousers and a top by Yeezy, her brother-in-law’s clothing line.
How do you actually get these on? And why would you bother?
Bow down to Princess Caroline
of Hanover at the Monaco Rose Ball, wearing Chanel.
There is whimsical. And there is wanky. She seems to be standing in a dogs-tooth polo neck behind a cardboard cutout of a design for the Ascot scene in My Fair Lady.
Finally, here is Sundy Carter, “star” of some rubbish called Basketball Wives of LA. Now to be fair, this was a 50 Shades of Filth-themed party but even so….This is a shoo-in for the Summer Stinker 2017 and ranks with Bobby Norris’ cocksock as one of the worst things WTF has ever seen, ever, in the history of ever.
WARNING – THIS IS REALLY, REALLY, BAD!!!
AND HERE IS ANOTHER WARNING TO GO WITH THE FIRST WARNING!!!
There is not enough brain bleach in the world to erase this horrendousness from your memory. This is not clothes, not even at all. Be-ribboned Minge. Tattoo. Tits. Everything on view. And that’s the front. Here is the rear view. Literally.
AND HERE IS A THIRD WARNING TO GO WITH THE FIRST AND SECOND WARNINGS!!!
WTF is against flashing your arse, period, but she is all in wonder why anyone would want to flash this particular arse, for which the word flabby has insufficient nuance. As for the blue lipstick, she looks like she is suffering from advanced cyanosis.
This week’s It’s Got To is from WTF aficionado Ayesha from Stepney who is aghast at the return (for the awful TV charity marathon, Red Nose Day) of Love Actually, directed by her bete noire Richard Curtis. Ayesha deplores the way that Curtis flogs English clichés to a US audience and the fact that nothing in his films resembles anything familiar from ordinary life. He is the Penny Dreadful of directors presenting his celluloid theme park with one eye on the US Box Office. It is all buttock-clenchingly mortifying says Ayesha and He’s Got To Go.
OK Readers, that’s your lot for this week. This week has been traumatic in so many ways. Keep your comments and your suggestions for It’s Got To Go flowing in and let us meet again next Friday. Be good x