Bank Anger Profit Bonus In Fatcat Fury Shame

FURIOUS fatcat taxpayer money bonus and angry meltdown shame greed, it emerged today.

Barclay men show disgraced £3bn taxpayer jobless recession profit despite shame bonus and taxpayer meltdown crunch disaster.

But as bank shame anger rose to fatcat, outraged tax money say bail-out meltdown pay for risky bonus shame greed fury.

Bill, a furious angry man, say: “Fatcat. Meltdown. Taxpayer. Greedy shame fury. Make bad thing go now.”

Wayne, a sad jobless, say: “No job. Me. Them money. Bonus things. Nice bonus money things. Me no things. Fury anger bonus shame.”

Margaret, old woman from nice place, say: “Pensioner. Me. Old lady. Fatcat greedymen. Winter so cold time. No soup. Me go all blue. Then what?”

Vince, a politics man, say: “Appalling. Nasty, shamey greedymen. All angry pocket lining and excessive shame risk. Homes. Jobs. Billions. Crisis-crunch.”

He add: “China! Fred Goodwin!”

But Tom, analysing man, say: “Pensions. That’s your pension. That £3bn is where your pension comes from.

“Stop talking now, fucknut idiots.”


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Your Problems Solved, With Holly Harper

Dear Holly,
I have a female colleague at work who is making my life a misery. She's really ambitious and competitive, and she tries to better everything I do, especially when the boss is around. I've been trying to ignore her endless one-upmanship for a while now, but it's getting close to the point where if she tells me her lunch looks more tasty than mine one more time I'm going to staple her eyelids to the desk, set fire to her hair, and forcibly insert a filing cabinet into her anus. Is there a last solution you can offer me before I resort to violence?

Dear Sybil,
Take it from me, you need to whip this wannabe alpha-female into submission before she becomes a serious threat to you. I got embroiled in a drawing competition with my arch enemy Amanda Sullivan just before Christmas last year when she announced to the whole class that she was going to draw the nativity scene and that hers would be better than mine because I can't colour inside the lines (which is a complete lie). It was touch-and-go when she produced a Joseph reminicent of a young Bruce Springsteen, but it soon became clear I was the stronger contestant after I used my new silver and gold glitter pens to give the impression of moonlight dancing on the face of the baby Jesus. Already sensing defeat, Amanda Sullivan nearly soiled herself when, armed only with an HB pencil and a sheet of baking proof-paper, I superimposed Cheryl Cole's face on to the angel Gabriel.
So when your colleague challenges you next, instead of ignoring her you need to take the challenge on, and make sure you wipe the floor with that bitch – maybe you'll even get a gold star like me!
Hope that helps!