Posh south coast gardener, Rose Pruner, was angered when an e-mail she had sent to her son's girlfriend was put on the internet. Below is her response.
When I send you an e-mail pointing out your shortcomings in the manners department I don't expect you to forward it on to all and sundry. Having said that, I suppose that expecting anything less from a crass cow such as you would have been a bridge too far.
I believe it would be best for all concerned if you went back to your lager swilling parents on that rat infested Landfill Tawny council estate where you belong.
I'm sure the local inbred mutant tattoo toting, pit-bull owning scumbags could offer you an environment more conducive to your social standing.
Just why my son decided to paddle in the shallow end of Darwin's gene pool I will never know. For a poor specimen of parasitic plankton such as you it must have appeared like all your Christmases arrived at once.
Somewhere out there is an intellectually challenged, retarded, drug addicted, soap avoiding ASBO magnet. Find him and fuck off.
Don't even think about forwarding this e-mail. If you do, I'll hunt you down like the dog you are and drop you from the top of that shit pile of a tower block you call home.