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Felice Fawn

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Cat eyes.JPG

Felice Fawn?
Dem collarbones, dat photoshopped neck.
Choose Life, u gais! Ttly not pro-ana! ^_^

Felice Fawn, also known as Lauren Emma Cook (or CROOK), is a SCAMMER, photographer, retoucher, and artist from England, in other words she has the same skillset as every 12 year old on /b/ with GIMP. That is until she became internet crazy after releasing self portraits of her looking like a stop-motion extra from Jason and the Argonauts while apparently unaware of her repulsive appearance and willfully deaf to demands that she needs to choke down a few KFC megabuckets. Her fans are primarily teenage hipsters, shitty artists, amateur photographers and bloggers who hope to see her shriveled cunt.

A photo diary was discovered in 2010 of an anorexic girl, who was certainly Felice. Felice's hair color and necklaces were identical, and pictures blanked both thighs exactly where Felice has tattoos along with her titties and vag by pure coincidence and are thought to have been caused be an electrical storm at the time of posting.

Despite resembling a bag of pretzel sticks earlier that year, Felice announced (read: HERP DERP) weight-gain. Like an emo child's ambivalent desire to declare yet hide their shameful faggotry, the severity of her ANALrexia had been purposely kept under-wraps: she still denies having any form eating disorder whatsoever, in spite of common knowledge of her hospitalization earlier that year, as well as regular visits to a hospital throughout 2010 (No it wasn't anorexia she just enjoys rectal exams). One need only look at her HEALTHY MUSCLE BODY to confirm this. She openly rants about anti-anorexia and anti-thinspo, another suspicious aspect of her online persona.

The blog that the images have been taken from was password protected and is now deactivated.

All tattoos or 'signature' Felice items have been photoshopped out. This is a professional retoucher, remember?

Felice Fawn confided in close friends that she may an hero should someone produce an article leaking any information about her. This naturally led to her white-knighting friends vandalizing this record. As she builds most of her relationships on lies with people to gain maximum attention her claims of an hero are completely transparent and her acolytes simply feed her histrionic behavior. Amusingly anyone who considers hiring her will just encourage her "illness" and support her "disease". Please tell this fatty to get a hot meat injection into her guts. As is typical of attention whores, The Fawn is an emotional vampire. Her furries often complain about how she will go out of her way to induce some type of emotional suffering from them. Includes jealousy of other friends, breaking up with them, and setting conditions for the relationships she has with them. The conditions usually stipulate that one may gaze only at the sphincter of The Fawn and no other.

The Proof

Felice fawn thin spo.jpg

Nice nipples. Same underwear and bra.

Nosejob.png Nosenose.png

Felice somehow lost a bunch of bulbous weight from her nose.

Her name is Felice FUCKING Fawn

Or something like that. Some fanfag or Felice asked her what her real name was. Her response?

Felice fawn fake name.jpg

Her reply caused butthurt and rage and was quickly posted on efagz livejournal. Proof quickly turned up that her name is actually Lauren Cook since everyone on efagz seems to know how to use google. This intern cause Lauren butthurt and she quickly started to password recovery old accounts to bawlete her old information.

But not before we took a few screenshots

To show that she was not butthurt by any of this she made anon a .gif for them to beat off to.


Thanks for the thin-spo.

Felice Fawn the Furry

Felice Fawn squats without panties on social network sites but also takes part in Furcadia. There she is well known as Amia but she recently switched to Empusa. Naturally, everyone wants to have sex with her. Now, because she is a good person, she has the tendency to yiff other furries. She has even gone through great lengths to hide her furry lovers from the boyfriend she lives with who supports her. Although she didn't have the decency to hide being a furry.

Bringing up her beastiality and the fact that she lives with someone she calls her boyfriend will often incite drama and lies. Drama will often occur when her boyfriend is contacted and questioned about how he feels that his girlfriend cheating on him with cartoon dog wang.

Currently on her furry DA she scams people out of $40 cash for a 95x95 pixel square (deleted) of her amazing art. BARGAIN

FF also has a reputation for being a stalker. One user, Dollette/Ashley, has become a victim of Felice's obsession. She claims to be her mortal enemy, but Ashley couldn't give a shit about Felice's attraction to her. Felice has produced many lulz from her stalking such as nudes of Dollette and personal cam feeds. ~pics or it didn't happen.

To troll Felice and her friends on Furcadia please do all of the following:

  • Link this article
  • Bring up eating disorders
  • Ask her how many furries she's yiffed
  • Tell her that her religion sucks
  • Accuse Felice of being an attention whore when she begs everyone to watch her on cam
  • Comment on her rolls or the fat dripping from her chin.

Felice and Everything Else

Lauren Cook knows that posing with a Hitchens book makes you hardcore atheist.

Last week Felice Fawn decided that she is an 'atheistic Satanist' and gothic. As this is a purely fabricated stance dreamed up by an ill educated emo, people inquired, "Just what the fuck are you on about?" She decided that everyone must be ignorant and then wasted valuable space on the internet explaining these religious views. (To spare you a little life, it is essentially hedonism and innate morality with a heavy dose of hipster self-satisfaction).In her blog she further shares her all grand wisdom on various topics such as feminism, wearing fur, and animal abuse.

Felice also likes to brag about her self taught photography and photoshop skills. I wonder if this school knows she didn't learn anything from them.

Felice Also likes to steal money from wherever she can. She once stole her mothers[whom she claims to hate] credit card information and racked up a 300+ dollar bill. Felice has recently done an interview where she explains that she's a teenager.

Oh wait - completely original and that no one inspires her. She also touches on other topics such as how she was gothic as a kid and how she flunked out of college because she was too busy blowing goats. She goes on to say that she doesn't believe you need an education to be successful. The hipsters who watch her should be reminded that this advice comes from someone who is too retarded to eat and has yet to achieve that.

Felice fawn traces.gif So original.

Felice fawn cow.jpgFelice Fawn poses next to her sister to make herself look thinner. Her sister has shown to be a potential lolcow in the making.

Felice Fawn has over 9000 journals

Each journal has a new name but usually keeps the rest of the information the same. She recently leaked this one before freaking out and then deleting it. Special thanks to an anon for giving us a look into how truley pathetic and fucked this furry is.

Another journal name has been spotter for Lauren. It comes with a myspace, facebook, twitter, and tumblr account. Most of it has been deleted or hidden but we did manage to snag some of the pictures posted on her twitpic. Her myspace page awesome has the fantasy life story. As interesting as she tries to make her life sound, we all know that she was really fapping to furry porn posted on furcadia.

About me:

Mára aurë. My name is Jade Rose. I am a young girl from England, born and raised. Well spoken, poorly educated, and an avid enthusiast of art and literature. I could introduce myself through a prolonged physical description and various facts about nature and personality, but it seems so cliche, and of course would defeat the purpose of anonymity, so instead I will tell you my history.

I was born into a loving, financially secure family, complete with two sets of married grandparents, aunts and uncles on both sides. I was the first child, the precious gift, and I was worshipped for my presence and my health. My mother was beautiful both aesthetically and seemingly characteristically for the longest time. Five foot seven and a perfect size eight, with thick brunette hair that complimented olive skin and huge brown almond eyes, framed by lashes even a doe would be jealous of. She was a diamond to many and admired by more, popular in her youth and now living the life of a cherished wife, her status and reputation unwavering throughout her years. My father was the equivalent, only six foot five and alpha male with ocean green eyes. He had more positive family history and a less positive personal history, the opposite of my mother, with stories of drug abuse, petty crime and violence circulating him and his cockney relations. Minor details like cocaine use when I was a baby seem significant yet are irrelevant, so forgive me for skipping the fine print.

We lived in a beautiful house situated in the outskirts of a wonderful town in England, and my father did business full time alongside his father, dedicated to supporting the family. His work ethics were fierce and it rapidly resulted in luxuries. We soon upgraded to an even bigger house, purposely located proximate to my grandparents on my father’s side, as they were a vital line of support to my mother in regards to my care; I was a difficult toddler and she was unprepared, something my father echoes to this day and affected me more than I let on.

Family holidays were regular, from generic British camping vacations to the exotic abroad. I developed perfectly and my first few years were my finest. Thick white blonde hair, cut short into a neat bob which only accentuated the mass of it. I was gifted with the shape of my father’s lips, but the fullness of my mothers, while my eyes were the shape of my mother’s, but the colour of my fathers. A perfect blend of two sexes and a prize possession to any budding parent it seemed. I was flaunted by my mother for my aesthetics and by my father for my boyish nature.

At age five, my younger sister was born. From this moment onwards I was no longer the apple of my mother’s eye, I just wasn’t aware of it yet. I subconsciously began to drift in favour of my father, despite his absence due to work. He became novelty, and I began finding myself working hard to impress him even at such a tender age. Being a tomboy meant my interests revolved primarily around nature. I was a free spirit with a strong head, veins full of confidence, and I would spend my days exploring the woodland behind my grandparents’ house, or begging for a hand to hold so I could cross the bridge over the motorway to access the local orchard, a haven full of wonder and opportunity for any dirt digging, tree climbing, fruit picking child. I began to build an unbreakable bond with my father, and slowly it began to feel like me and him against the world, but this only accentuated the accumulating damage within their marriage. I was a carefree spitfire with my father, dressed in bows, floral and lace by my mother, and the clash caused endless tension between them.

I remember my mother vividly before things turned sour, which if anything makes reliving the past more painful. We would bake cakes for the children’s hospice neighbouring our local church. We would spend time drawing Disney, copying from my favourite books. As my sister and I got older, her tendency to snap between emotions abruptly began to escalate and become more and more regular. Small details like snatching my dummy from my lips when frustrated, my most cherished possession, and urgently slicing it in half with the blades of scissors to merely prove a point is one of my first recollections. At the time her inclination to think that bearing gifts resolves bad choices was in fact correct, and over time I became spoilt, the more cluttered my bedroom became with toys, the more evidence was scattered that there were darker issues fighting to surface. My father’s morals were always as fierce as his worth ethics, and while he strived to teach me life values and the importance of responsibility, my mother promoted the idea of buying me material possessions, mainly just to spite him, and their ideas of correct parenting continued to conflict, causing poorly hidden arguments full of aggression and irrational reasoning on my mother’s part.

It was when I was 6 years old that my life abruptly switched from perfect (at least, in a child’s eyes) to Hell. My mother cheated on my father in our family home with a strange man called M, and it was I who heard the alien voice late one night and discovered them. They soon divorced, and on the night that the news was broken to me, I was given a choice; to go with my father, or stay with my mother. Of course, I chose my father, and we packed a few basic possessions and drove immediately to my grandparents house, leaving my baby sister in my mothers care. This moment is incredibly symbolic of how my life progressed from this point onwards, and the distance and hatred that developed between my mother and I over time. It is my belief that my mother was incredibly angry with me for choosing my father, and has never forgiven me, despite my tender age.

I soon had to return home to the care of my mother, and to face the presence of the man who destroyed everything I knew. My father gave my mother everything; the house, the furniture, the car, the savings. Everything, for the sake of his children, and he started his life from the ground up, moving into a small dirty house local to town while working alone in an attempt to form an empire for the same of income.

Over the years, various changes took place and an endless series of events happened. M and my mother started to become violent, beating each other physically and tearing through the house like hurricanes as my sister and I would hide ourselves away as best we could on a regular basis. Our car was vandalized and burnt down outside our house. My father purposely drove into M and nearly killed them both. We moved house, many times, until relocating entirely to a village 30 minutes away from my fathers, which terrified me at the time. Any distance between my father and I terrified me.

The violence only got worse the longer their relationship persisted, and I witnessed a variety of things that slowly became normality; vodka bottles being smashed into skulls, blood over walls, faces and arms. Burning smashed light bulbs being held to faces, knives being held to limbs and chests. Blue lights; police and ambulances, regularly visiting to save them from themselves. It was intense, to say the least, and I was regularly taken in by local strangers, spending my youth running barefoot with my sister in my arms to random doors, whether it was winter or summer.

I slowly began to withdraw, and for a year I became a mute; I simply stopped talking. I completely inverted in the rawest way, refusing to tell anyone anything about myself or my life, even my own father, who I became protective over even at such a young age, striving to keep him away from what had become my problems. Looking after my sister as if she were my own daughter, and protecting my father from a life filled with blood and bruises became my purpose and my sanity, and discovering self harm at the age of nine only separated me further. Even though I was an adolescent, I would resent others who openly talked about their problems and received attention for their woes. My mindset was always “just fucking deal with it”, despite tears, terror, and the gripping of teddy-bears in private.

At this point in my life my mothers violence had also begun to turn in my direction. I had objects hurled at me, was beaten with a metal coat-hanger and was generally slapped around when she was frustrated and had no one else to take her intense, irrational anger out on. I became more emotionally fragile and scared of basic things over time. Teachers shouting would leave me shaking and in hysterics, gripping to desks and unable to form sentences. Vacuum cleaners and the clanking of cutlery would induce the same reaction, as cleaning generally equalled frustration, and frustration usually resulted in either physical or some form of extreme mental abuse.

At age 11 I finally moved in with my father, and for a brief period of my life I had revisited heaven. Social services had finally got involved. I had never been able to move to his due to his work commitments and lack of funding for additional care for me, but we made it work, along with help from my grandparents. Of course, nothing good ever lasted in my world, and one evening I skipped towards the door after dinner to respond to a knock I heard, only to pull back the wood and glass to reveal my mothers face, wet with tears and makeup. I remember that moment well, and I always have; it was the moment in which the devil returned to ruin the only good thing I had left, and my father unfortunately brought her story of M beating her again, along with her needing him back in her life, a place to stay, and a re-kindled marriage. It was that night my father left to play his usual sport in town, leaving me alone with her. It was that night I found her hanging from the staircase with a collection of pills at her feet. It was that night I called an ambulance, and to this day, the darkest part of me wishes I never had.

After living with my grandparents for a few months while my mother recovered in hospital and my father continued to expand his business, I had to return home to live with my mother again. For the next few years I self harmed viciously, ran from home whenever I had the opportunity just to avoid violence, and in the time inbetween, locked myself away in my room entirely. There were various other incidents where police had to be called, and both my mother and M by this point ended up with a pretty solid criminal record. My mother was also now a full time alcoholic.

My sister always had a strangely unique bond with my mother. They were close, and she was untouchable; my mothers angel. Sometimes I felt jealous, while others it merely made me sick. I had practically raised my sister and kept her eyes and ears away from from Hell as best I could, and in return I am forced to watch her grow into a young girl with a close relationship with the witch that burdened us. Then again, my sister never received any kind of emotional or physical trauma, so I try not to feel too much resentment.

My father was eventually re-married to a woman 13 years younger than him. I was not allowed to be a bridesmaid, nor sit at the main table with them or my first family. I was completely excluded from the event, handed over to my Dad’s friends for the day, and I have never felt such heartache, isolation and loss like this in my entire life. I was forced to watch my Papa be taken from me, instead of being offered a place by both of their sides, as part of the family.

By the time I was 14 years old, M had left, only to be replaced with another boyfriend, coincidentally, with exactly the same name, which naturally gave me chills. He had a history of mental health issues and violence, and he sported various tattoos, a large figure, cold light grey eyes and a shaved head. My childhood repeated throughout my teenage years, the only difference being we lived in a different house, and the new boyfriend had different aesthetics. Knives, blood, broken objects, screams, strange houses, strange faces. Repeat. I had however discovered cigarettes and alcohol, and I began abusing them both regularly. Between 14 and 18 years old I was regularly sleeping on sofas and the leaves that coated forest floors, up to my eyeballs in vodka and at that time in particular, a lot of painkillers, marijuana and benzodiazepines. I had found a boyfriend that I moved in with at 16 because the violence at home was too much to handle, but my arms were still split with blades on a regular basis, and my body was regularly limp and cold due to overdose.

I dwell on the past daily. My father was my best friend, my superhero and my rock, and his marriage to my stepmother finally symbolised the solidified distance between us, purposely created by her. It was always her intention to have him for herself, undivided, and believe me when I say this is not a solo, bias opinion. They now live together in a home I am made to feel unwelcome in by her alone, and my relationship with my father, although naturally strong, has deteriorated further than I ever imagined possible. We are each others reflections, we share the same blood, but I now have to fight wars to keep him close. He lives a separate life that I am now hardly a part of, and I spend my time watching from a distance, wishing for a family of my own, or at least for my stepmother to allow me to be a part of theirs. Usually I just wish for my father.

I had been taken to A+E to have my life saved, get stitches and general emergency care more times than I could count by the time I reached 19. I lived a separate life; no one knew me besides my boyfriend, not even my father, nor my mother. Neither of them ever discovered I self harmed or abused drugs and alcohol so severely, and I had managed to somehow hide it for a solid ten years. They never knew I had been to hospital at a state of near death. My father never knew my mother had once ever laid a hand on me. Nobody knew anything about me, and I liked it that way.

Now I am suffering from anorexia nervosa, still plagued with self harming tendancies and the urge to drink and pill away my problems. I haven’t spoken to my mother since February of this year, and as my story now begins to become less detailed, I encourage you to read my journal from page one.

My name is Jade Rose. I am an Atheistic Satanist to the fullest degree. I am all dilated pupil and no iris. I am all vodka and no blood. I am all smoke and no oxygen. I am all sins, anger, sadness and scars.

Cool story bro.

Felice Fawn before she learned how to thin-spo

These photos come from her photobucket account and her livejournal. Links to those coming soon.

Felice Fawn's Furry Art

The only thing that could possibly be worse than an attention whore is a closet furry. All art work belongs to Felice Fawn/Lauren Cook.

Andy: The Obsession

Andy embarks on a noble quest to defend his fair maiden's honor.
Jealous of her fame.

Her most recent conquest was Andy Jewface-jewhair Suhm (alias Bassdammit). A perennial beta. He was left heartbwoken and bankrupt after pining for a relationship with her. Seeking to see just a little vag and tits he can be found with(out?) fail in her stickam lives, often sans his shirt -impressing everyone I might add-, looking like a homeless jew in need of a bath and employment, desperately waiting for her to let him out of the friendzone. It is rumored that he spent all his pocketmoney on international cell phone calls to her like a neckbeard with an addiction to premium gaysex phone chats.


As of early 2011 Andy's dream was realized, and he was permitted fly himself to London to meet his queen in a hotel for some upcloseandpersonal friendzoning. On stickam no less. Truly the life of a beta is blessed. However, shortly afterwards she reunited with her pathetic love slave of a boyfriend and publicly denounced her friendship with Andy despite his undying love for her. She issued a restraining order banning him from the entire United Kingdom because "she didn't want to take his money". Nevermind the $5,000+jewgolds on calls. All the while she'd freak out if he didn't answer while he was out and call him a cheater while her boyfriend Rich ploughs her with the same relish as one would have fucking a praying mantis in the mandibles. Frankly, betas sicken this author.

Andy refuses to get the hint and spends all of his free time stalking her accounts, white knighting her online. He makes up excuses for her behavior and claims she's such a nice girl and that all who hate her are fat, ugly, losers who are jealous of her alternative modeling career. He debunks all the rumors and accusations by informing everyone that she told him they weren't true. Oh, in that case! This actually only fuels the fire for her haters and makes them lol endlessly. Many more posts than usual popped up about her in hopes that the lolcow would return. He sparked livejournal wankfests reaching over 600 comments in multiple entries, and eventually gave everyone so much entertainment that they started stanning him and making him their usericons.

Good job Andy! Mission accomplished!

On the upside you will always have Furcadia.

Update: It looks like Lauren and her other boyfriend Andy are taking a break. Below is one of the many passive aggressive tweets about him. Felice fawn andy.jpg

Felice the Scammer

The mockery of Lauren Crook

On the 2nd of September 2011, a scam was brought to light after several months of patience. Tahti, a Tumblr user and previous Felice acquaintance, publicly published a review of Felice's shop, Deumos (store site has since been baleeted and redirects to her official domain). Tahti ordered and paid for a custom order of 70GBP through Felice’s shop on the 19th of May. Tahti never received a confirmation of her order being shipped out and became worried, though Felice continued to keep in touch with Tahti during the first month after Tahti’s order. Felice claimed Tahti’s order was lost at the responsibility of Royal Mail and it was out of her control. Felice began dodging Tahti’s attempts to contact her on the 25th of May, but boyfriend Rich continued to keep Tahti’s worries at rest by contacting her every few weeks.

Tahti finally took to leaving comments on Felice’s posts where she was met with typical Felice behavior – being blocked from making any more comments on the blog. Once the situation started becoming more public, Felice realized she had to uphold her pseudo-nice-girl image and told Tahti she would receive a new order, items for free as an apology, with a refund as well. The items and refund never showed and Tahti was given a new date for a refund: the 1st of September. Tahti never received her refund and finally made her review of on the 2nd of September. Tahti’s review has been reblogged hundreds of times, and Lj-favicon.png efagz, a community that follows the failwhales of internet fame, posted Tahti’s review which became their most commented post in all of efagz history reaching over 1,100 comments so far.

Felice has yet to publicly face the situation, but instead continues to block anyone who reblogs Tahti’s post or leave comments pertaining to the scam on her blog. Felice went live on Stickam for 6-8 hours ironically wearing a Deumos shirt to chain smoke and slam several bottles of liquor while looking derpy for her internet strangers the same night Tahti made her post. During her live stream, anyone who mentioned the scam was kicked or banned from the chat. Several blocks and bans later, Felice began to slide Tahti’s lack of a refund as boyfriend Rich’s responsibility, blabbed that she was out 270GBP after the ordeal, and proclaimed that nobody knew her side of the story. Did I forget to mention post after post Felice published on her tumblr boasting of new clothing purchases or the amount of booze she affords to drink and cigarettes she smokes during a live Stickam stream? All while being a drunken, chain-smoking slob on a live stream, she searched through her tag on tumblr only to obsess over every person blogging about her scam ordeal.

Felice’s final message to her many scammed customers:


Many continue to milk the lolcow through macros using Felice's pictures and alter her real name Lauren Cook to Lauren Crook.

When the morning finally rolled around Lauren/Felice awoke from her drunken slumber, realized the internet didn't forget, and issued a careless statement except it only contributed to her bullshit, as she was caught at least twice fibbing over the situation. Felice and her white-knighters seem to believe that a scamming business should not be brought to anybody's attention and is not a public matter, though as you can see the white-knighters had serious competition when most people didn't understand why no responsibility was being taken. But, businesses are not a public matter, guiz. Felice continues to not issue an official statement of her wrong-doings, or her side of the story, probably because she's realizing everyone on the internet has 'print screen' and 'save as' buttons on their computer. The Crook went live on Stickam (again) for the night wearing one of the shirts she boasted of on her blog. Her scammed customer continue to be ignored. Boyfriend Rich is beginning to make his part more apparent by answering a question that people presume to be from Tahti and later deleting it, though this was caught because RSS readers don't forget.

A new challenger has appeared!

This poor Tumblr user seems to have felt it was appropriate to overlook Lauren's history in business. Lauren once again proves to be completely incompetent in using the postal service or lying about not knowing how to use the postal service. This shouldn't be a surprise since this is the same girl who ended up being too retarded for school. I digress. She once again is called out that the package was never sent and that she's just milking her ignorant fans for money. It's hard to believe that her ebay/etsy/fan packages get to her just fine but anything she sends out seems to go missing. Lauren, stop reading your ED page and think of a new excuse. This one is getting old.

Will the not tumblr famous user get her refund or will Lauren win another round making off with her stolen goods?

Is it still hating if it's true? Lauren agreed to pay back MOST of the refund to yet a different fan who didn't receive her stuff. Because paying back all would make too much sense. It only took someone else getting involved before Lauren would even bother contacting this poor fan anyway. When it comes to money, something isnt better than nothing. Slow down on your booze Lauren and pay the poor people their money.

~*~*~UPDATE~*~*~ Lauren loves to brag about how her line of clothing was super original. Her large, ridiculous fan base seemed to be the only ones willing to eat her steaming pile of shit. It didn't take long to figure out where Lauren found the inspiration for her clothing line. It actually was not hard at all. Lauren posted a link to the shop when she offered, out of the goodness of her own heart, to give a fan a necklace she purchased from a shop on etsy. With a simple search you can find quite a bit of merchandise that looks a lot like her line. Oh those haters.


~*~*~UPDATE NO.2~*~*~ Lauren has now released her new goffik clothing line, ~Evil Trinity~. The line features stolen art, stolen text, and stolen everything else. Everything with text printed on it also features bad grammar and lulz. So far, no scams have been documented, but that's probably because Lauren is charging $40 USD for a fucking tee shirt. Failice is also selling leggings and dresses, but will not be supplying plus sizes. I wonder why. Of course, the modeling for the brand is heavily photoshopped, evidently so even on models other than the Queen of Thinspo herself. Cute image artifacts, Lauren.

The Many Faces of Fawn


Lauren Cook recently had sex with a photographer in exchange for the super awesome opportunity to be a REAL BOY. Now that she's a professional model, she means serious business. Above is a collection of facial shots from the magazine to show off Lauren's amazing skill at looking the same in every photo taken of her.

You can see the heavily Photoshopped images here along with the comments from her butthurt fans since no sane person happens to be impressed with her work. Here is the link to an extremely dry interview where she bawls about not having any privacy.

I’m a very open, honest individual...


— Felice Fawn; the only thing 'open' would be her legs.

See Also

External Links

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Felice Fawn is part of a series on


Visit the Whores Portal for complete coverage.

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Felice Fawn is part of a series on


Visit the Furfaggotry Portal for complete coverage.

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Felice Fawn is part of a series on Enemies of the Lulz
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End Result

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See Also

White KnightingDone with EDFinal solutionFree Speech