Katie Hopkins

I hope that during a very long car journey her music system in her car gets stuck and plays Ironic by Alanis Morissette on loop with no way of stopping it.

I hope that she goes for a bike ride but get a a p_nct_re,when she gets her spare tube out it's a schraeder valve, but her rims are presta only.

I hope Bin Ladin's UK family move in next door. I hope they're a hit with all the other neighbours and she's ostracised. I hope she tries to sell her home but can't because everyone knows it's the Bin Ladins next door.

I hope she farts in the bath, expecting nothing more than than some amusing bubbles but is instead surrounded by a fetid cloud of brown, much like milk looks when poured into tea, but poo like. I hope she was head under water when this happens and all the shit she spouts infects her ears and eyes rather than everyone else's for once.

I hope that next time she fills her car with fuel she puts unleaded in instead of diesel, calls out the mobile siphon team, pays to have it drained, then fills up with diesel, as she drives off she realises it's actually unleaded she needed, but now the diesel is in the engine and requires more work. On top of that she forgot her nectar card and didn't get points for the 2 tanks of fuel she has wasted.

I hope her cunt rusts shut.

I'm not feeling particularly creative today, just vindictive. Sorry everyone.

I hope I win the lottery so I can buy the house next door to her and give it to Joanne Watson.

Is that any better?

I hope the nurse replaces her morphine button with one containing a potent mix of amphetamines and hallucinogens.

But mostly I hope her brain op has cured whatever the fuck caused her to be such a deplorable belmtard every day of her life til now.
Then we can forget all about her.

I hope she is 100+ hours into a Fallout play and her save corrupts

I hope she stumbles across this tread.

I hope she goes for a cycle, loads the wrong GPS track, ends up on a route twice the length she thought it was, underdressed and underprovisioned, runs out of water, starts to bonk then roots around at the bottom of her bar back for a two week old banana that's gone brown and has to suck it's rotten runny fruit like it's the worst energy gel in the world before limping home with burning legs and a heavily chafed vajajay.

Jus' sayin'

too dark

ruined: let's restart things shall we?

I hope she receives a bailiff's notice for a previous resident at her home and has to have an uncomfortable conversation with two burly men, trying to convince them she is not the debtor.

sorry, my fault...

I hope she goes out to sit on the grass at lunch, pats it first to check it's dry, sits down, then realises after ten minutes it's actually still the tiniest bit damp. As a result she then has to put up with a clammy bum all day.

I hope she pushes out a hard, dry, wide poo and tears her clackervalve.

Thats pure evil

I hope Katie Hopkins puts her husbands bike on Ebay and gets a Cunt Buyer.

I hope she gets polyps removed by a surgeon with hands like Mike Tyson's.

I hope she goes to pay for her Space Raiders using contactless debit card technology, but the till she uses does not support the protocol, leaving the cashier to awkwardly redirect her back to using the traditional chip and pin method.

I hope she has slightly different prescriptions for each eye and accidentally puts the left contact lense prescription in both.

I hope someone makes a comment about a mole she has and then even after getting it checked out by a dermatologist she has a subtle background worry about it, and she just worries about the mole which is maybe or maybe not changing and she just can't ever quite let it go or feel comfortable with it.

I hope she's walking down the street and sees someone she vaguely knows but not enough for a full on conversation walking in the opposite direction. As they grow closer it's obvious that neither party wants to acknowledge the other and they both have to awkwardly look into the distance, desperately avoiding eye contact.

I hope that when reversing into her driveway she bashes into her overfull bins, squeezing them like a tube of toothpaste, leaving fetid, rotten rubbish and bin juice all over her house, her drive way and the back of her car.

Omg, this actually happened to me. Two Scouse heavies looking for a "Mr. Ming".
They lolled when I answered the door donning a skinhead and bomber jacket.

I was less amused.