Spoilt.

Jan Moir is a columnist on borrowed time after the Stephen Gately article which effectively ended her career anywhere but the Mail, so it's understandable that she's laying low and not producing anything inflammatory for the time being.

Oh wait, she is.



It seems she's got Littlejohn's job in her sights, what with the unbridled venom in this article. I can only assume she's been locked in a cupboard for months after Gately-Gate, biding her time, forced to watch a TV screen of anti-Tory protests, matchsticks holding her eyelids open and steady doses of testosterone administered to encourage her right-wing rage.

"Stop the Tory cuts, they cried, with the usual wrong-headed, partisan, Left-wing faux outrage that we have come to expect."

I thought the Mail had at least a thin veneer of balance, but fuck it, let's have it out shall we?

As she blasts the students for spending their EMA on cigarettes, alcohol and upmarket sandwiches, I can't help but notice her lack of understanding about exactly how far you can stretch £30 in a week.

"What do we want? Crayfish and mayo. When do we want it? Now! On toasted ­wholegrain please. And throw a bag of crisps in while you’re at it, serf."

Not sure if that's a mocking jibe or just her lunch order. I think someone needs to tell her that not all schools are within proximity of a Pret. You know, like all colleges outside of London, for example.

I'd like to see her get a fucking paper round. Then she might actually have to read half the bollocks she's responsible for vomiting into press.