Poor Petronella

It's hell being posh but poor: Petronella Wyatt has sold her pearls and given up dining at the Ritz in Chanel suits because, like her friends in the 'Broke Generation', she says you just can't live on a six-figure salary | Mail Online

Woe is me said:
'I, too, earn between £80,000 and £100,000 a year, yet a rejected credit card is only the start of my financial woes. I’ve even come to the point where a visit from the bailiffs is a very realistic prospect — a troubling predicament I’d lived with for years. But how did I, a privately educated, privileged Oxbridge graduate come to be part of what I call the Broke Generation? My friends come from similarly well-heeled backgrounds. We work hard. Ten or 15 years ago, this would have guaranteed financial security, yet it has become increasingly difficult for us to make ends meet.

So, far from having it all, the Broke Generation are having to give up their treats. Last year, for example, I had to decide between a summer holiday and a new summer dress. I decided on the holiday, but as the cost of the flights and hotel added up, I realised I would have to raise an additional £400.

We of the Broke Generation have discovered penury is not only a financial privation, but also an emotional one. We are damned if we follow our hearts and inclinations, and damned if we don’t. As the money trickles away, prices rise ever higher and the loans we took out so carelessly haunt our dreams, a take-out from the local pizzeria seems our only option.

More and more of us are finding ourselves alone, or unhappily married. I wish I could say, in the words of the old song, that I had my love to keep me warm. But, like so many others, I don’t even have the consolation of that.'
My heart bleeds for her. Imagine not being able to get by on £80k+...

ARRSE collection for her? Cash only please, no 'IOU 1 visit from Darth Penis' vouchers
"Thick as pig-shit spoilt bitch" springs readily to mind. As does, "A fool and her money are soon parted."

My heart bleeds not even a single atom of blood for the tart. She'll have to go on the game.
I reckon if she gets her norks out for the Arrsers we'll make a judgement as to how much they are worth and then have a whip round. Those who are still serving on £20k a year should sympathise with the less well off on £80k plus.
"Thick as pig-shit spoilt bitch" springs readily to mind. As does, "A fool and her money are soon parted."

My heart bleeds not even a single atom of blood for the tart. She'll have to go on the game.
Well she was having it away with Boris Johnson, so she clearly has no problem shagging older blokes for nothing. Imagine what she'd do for a financial incentive... she could maybe buy a deed poll to change her horrendous name.



I'll give her £250 cash if she'll let me use her mouth, cunt and anus no-holds barred for the night.

£50 extra if she goes down on the long wheel base rat.
Yeuuch!! The creature from Alien coming out of the back of a dog.
Who is she? Are we supposed to know? Vacuous looking tart, whoever she is.
Dimbo gets paid £500 to write column guaranteed to start the outrage bus, relevant page gets 1000s of hits thus making newspaper ad department revenue. Trebles all round.

Both the Wail and Guriniad do this successfully hence they are still free. Liz Jones and Polly Toynbee spring to mind.
Woodrow Wyatt's daughter?
Woodrow Wyatt's daughter?
Woodrow Wyatt's daughter, offspring of 'The Voice of Alzheimer's' as Viz named him. Former lover of Boris Johnson, face like a pug dog and, in her ill-fitting Chanel suits, looking like a Stewardess from Air Bulgaria in its Communist days. When she was hired by Johnson at the Spectator, the late Auberon Waugh resigned rather than have his words share a publication with the drivel she turns out.
I would..... at my age, ye cannae be too fussy. Never mind Dearie, all that dosh, boo hoo, how sad, never mind, keep calm......

Boo Hoo... I too have had to give up shopping at 'M & s' for my Wittles and drink..... now I have to go to 'Lidlds' or 'Aldis'.... how sad, for a personnage of my Hero and Warriors status in this country.

Shame, shame.... oh what shame, as I have to buy my claethes from Oxfam Shops, and collect my Freebies from the back door of 'Fortnums & Masons' as they dump their 'Sell By Date' Caviar and Duck a la orange.... bugger me.... it's a great climb down...... Nurse Olga won't even let me pour out my own dosage of Bromide in my morning tea.....
Silly toffee nosed tart. However if she wants a pearl necklace back I'll spatter one over her norks...
Right, there are a lot of empty offers here of tit splattering, anal, etc, etc. So let's put our money where our mouths are and help the poor girl out. I will open up with an offer of €78 in return for a BJ followed by her taking a load up her gary glitter. Come on guys, let's help her raise the funds for a new pair of Jimmy Choos.
If the dim slut got her clobber from Primark and did her shopping at Aldi or Lidl, I reckon she could just about manage to survive on £80k. It'd be a struggle for the poor poverty stricken hoor though.

More fucking money than sense.

Edit: I'm guessing she'd be totally fucked on £53 a week...


Book Reviewer
Maybe her Papa sometimes left his duty brain cell in the Steradent but by golly she's started early.

Perhaps the nice readers of the Daily Mail will send her half-crown Postal Orders.
Dear Ms Wyatt,

What you consider to be small change is what I (and no doubt many others) consider to be a life pension [and as this is the NAFFI], you botox-filled, orange-skinned, retail-fixated waste of fucking atoms. I pity the dog.

Similar threads