Hello, internet.
I'm still not well, I've been cooped up for two days trying not to die, and the one thing I've been looking forward to early in the morning, the thing that keeps me going when I've had no sleep all night, is the chance to see what's going on in the world via the paper, delivered crisp and fresh through my letterbox every morning. The important stories, the stories that might just change the world. They're my way of keeping up to date with the fast-moving world of change we all live in. I like to read stories of life-changing inventions, cures for diseases and ends of wars. I don't like to have to read papers pandering to a pair of soulless bastards with the gall to try to force the media into making a front-page apology for daring to call them incompetent parents and for making any suggestion that they are responsible for their daughter's disappearance.
You are incompetent parents, and you are responsible for your daughter's disappearance.
Sue me if you want, you sickening pair of neglectful media whores. If suing people and funnelling even more money into the corrosive media machine you've created out of your supposed grief over your daughter's death makes you feel better about the fact you clearly felt a night on the town was better than the safety of your children. No amount of lawsuits and legal papers will exonerate you from the blame you are quite clearly guilty of, and your pathetic attempts to keep yourself in the news and continue your life of fame and fortune bought off of the back of your missing daughter will soon come to an end. When the cameras die down, the column inches dry up and your Posh and Becks lifestyle facade fades away, the only things you will have left will be the guilt you clearly feel for your recklessly irresponsible actions and the knowledge that, as if that wasn't enough, you victimised innocent people for daring to point out things that you obviously don't want to hear. I hope the money you cynically sucked from the goodwill of people too stupid to know better to pay for your cynically exploitative world tour never fills the gaping void your own stupidity has left in your lives, but I doubt it: Two million pounds of other people's money is probably more than high enough a price for your daughter's life.
The pair of you sicken me.
Goodnight.
I'm still not well, I've been cooped up for two days trying not to die, and the one thing I've been looking forward to early in the morning, the thing that keeps me going when I've had no sleep all night, is the chance to see what's going on in the world via the paper, delivered crisp and fresh through my letterbox every morning. The important stories, the stories that might just change the world. They're my way of keeping up to date with the fast-moving world of change we all live in. I like to read stories of life-changing inventions, cures for diseases and ends of wars. I don't like to have to read papers pandering to a pair of soulless bastards with the gall to try to force the media into making a front-page apology for daring to call them incompetent parents and for making any suggestion that they are responsible for their daughter's disappearance.
You are incompetent parents, and you are responsible for your daughter's disappearance.
Sue me if you want, you sickening pair of neglectful media whores. If suing people and funnelling even more money into the corrosive media machine you've created out of your supposed grief over your daughter's death makes you feel better about the fact you clearly felt a night on the town was better than the safety of your children. No amount of lawsuits and legal papers will exonerate you from the blame you are quite clearly guilty of, and your pathetic attempts to keep yourself in the news and continue your life of fame and fortune bought off of the back of your missing daughter will soon come to an end. When the cameras die down, the column inches dry up and your Posh and Becks lifestyle facade fades away, the only things you will have left will be the guilt you clearly feel for your recklessly irresponsible actions and the knowledge that, as if that wasn't enough, you victimised innocent people for daring to point out things that you obviously don't want to hear. I hope the money you cynically sucked from the goodwill of people too stupid to know better to pay for your cynically exploitative world tour never fills the gaping void your own stupidity has left in your lives, but I doubt it: Two million pounds of other people's money is probably more than high enough a price for your daughter's life.
The pair of you sicken me.
Goodnight.
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