Dear BBC Question Time producers

Thanks, Beeb, for allowing fuck-me-eyed, Satan-nosed, lamp-me-faced "Apprentice Star and Businesswoman" Katie Hopkins to make an appearance on last night's Question Time.

I felt her contributions really added vital discourse to the pressing issues facing today's society, as one might expect from someone whose construction of the pecking order of life runs thus:

MARKETPLACE
"BANTER"
GOD
MAN
INSECT
WOMAN

Might I suggest that if you find the panel similarly short-staffed in future, you instead plump for a scrofula-ridden tramp. At least that way we can feel good about our licence fee at least being funneled towards a faintly worthy cause.

Thanks, in summary, for doing your bit to ensure gender relations are set back another half-century.

Regards,
Davis.

PS - Katie: when the English Defence League thinks you're doing something right, it's a fair indication that you have got it very, very wrong.

PPS - You can cut that cunt Will Self off at the bel-end too while you're at it.

Dear Jordan - sorry, 'Katie' (iii)

I’ve been following with interest your disgust and indignation at the exploits of one Frankie Boyle and his recent joke in reference to your disabled son.

When an individual discloses every minute detail of her private life to the tabloid press for slavish consumption, that person cannot then pick and choose which areas of said life are off-limits, exempt from conjecture or immune to criticism.

You’ve shifted the direction of the argument, incidentally – you were very much the target of the gag. Your son, unfortunately for him, is mere collateral damage from the fallout of your tawdry ongoing exploits. Let us, then, not have a debate about what comedy is, isn’t, should or shouldn’t be. Let us not niggle over what people are, or are not, allowed to say on television. Comedy is the world’s one truly, purely, gloriously nihilistic art-form, and thus should be afforded the liberty of answering to no-one.

Let us consider instead the following questions, which perhaps ought to be asked but will no doubt go unvoiced yet again in the renowned hotbed of intellectual discussion that is the Price household. Might this make you stop to consider the circumstances under which this episode occurred? Might you question the appropriateness of whoring every sordid aspect of one’s personal life for exorbitant sums of money? Might this make you reconsider the validity, appropriateness and suitability of your life’s “work”?


If you can’t stand the heat, do not seek the rampant glare of publicity at every turn. I’m just in favour of responsible parenting.

Regards,
Davis.

PS – To the lady who went to see Frankie Boyle in concert and then had the audacity to complain that she found something he said offensive: you are a knucklehead of the most fist-pounding, wail-in-the-night, despair-inducing kind.

Dear Record Labels

I'm a big fan of ['x' band]. I've been following them with interest since their early singles, taking the time to hunt down the latest 7-inch or legally downloading each new offering upon release so that I can fully savour the fruits of their labour. I've travelled to go and see them live, bought a T-shirt after the gig to show my support and done my very best to spread the word to friends and family about this amazing new band I've come across.

I was therefore understandably keen to hear their latest album, and promptly took a special journey to my local record store to purchase it in the week of release. I paid full price for the album, because I believe in the value of respecting music and understand that supporting artists in this way is essential to providing them with a sustainable future. I also hoped that by buying it upon release I might be able to contribute to a groundswell of momentum amongst other like-minded fans, thus propelling it towards the chart and perhaps even greater attention.

The record itself is great, I really like it. It's exactly what I might expect from a band whose work I've been interested in ever since they first graced my ears. I fully intend to continue supporting them in future, as I find myself moved by their sentiments and excited by their passionate, heartfelt delivery.

All of which makes it a little irksome that you've now decided to re-release the album in a 2-disc 'Special Edition' featuring a host of extra videos, demos, out-takes, offcuts, new tracks, B-sides and live performances. It'll only cost £1 more than the original price I paid, but it now contains double the content.

As I say, I'm a big fan of the band, but in order to get access to these new features, I'll need to physically purchase the album again. My questions, then, are these. Will I be getting a refund for the difference? Will I be able to exchange my existing copy with you as a goodwill gesture? In short, will my loyalty to the band as a 'true fan' be rewarded?

Will it fuck. Next time, I'm going to steal it for free off the internet. In case you were wondering, you were the ones who brought this on yourselves.

Regards,
Davis.

Dear Michael Gove, Sky News

I'm going to put this very simply, because it's something that you, your fellow Ministers, Sky News, the BBC and, well, apparently just about everyone else doesn't seem to quite grasp.

Young people are fed up of feeling powerless. They are fed up of being lied to, and justifiably fucking sick of having to be the ones to pay for a crisis of capitalism they did not cause. They are fed up of being told that their interests or aspirations can be clinically demoted to second-class subjects unworthy of funding due to some arbitrary pronouncement of value based on "what's good for the market".

It's about them being fucked, relentlessly, by you and yours, and you wondering why they aren't lining up to say thanks. Understand this, and you will understand the fundamental reason why a brick is currently winging its way towards your head.

Get off my TV, you blithering fucking cunt.

Regards,
Davis.

PS - Report it fucking properly, for the love of all that's decent.

Dear Ed Balls

Please enjoy my really obvious topical joke.

Commiserations,
Davis.

Dear Orange Order

Oh, God, could you stop this now...?

Please. PLEASE stop. This cannot go on. You must see it - you must see. I'm begging you.

PLEASE just stop.

Genuine, abject, despairing regards,
Davis.

Dear Gordon Brown

I surely can't be alone in enjoying the fact that you've just had to beg a woman named 'Duffy' for mercy.

I thank yow...

Regards,
Davis.

PS - Seriously though, love, if you change your vote now over this after 60 years of party loyalty, that just makes you a colossal dipstick. If that awful cunt Cameron slagged me off while I wasn't listening, I wouldn't be in the least bit surprised. In fact, I'd enjoy it all the more for the fact that it would then give me the opportunity to present him with this:


Best.