What was the name of the journo who wrote the piece in The Scotsman?PLEASE SAY ME!!
It's that episode of The Office and Dave Brent presses Dawn to choose a person she admires: none of the options are suitable until she gets to himPLEASE SAY ME!!
Absolutely laughing up both lungs- genius"Hi, it's Jack Monroe here, writer, campaigner, cook, activist, You Tube slop singer and all-round godsend. When I was asked to take part in a travel programme, I only agreed on the condition that I could be painfully forensic in my choice of destination. It's been a year of conquering fears, leaving the house only for essential trips to Edinburgh on the sleeper and being extremely neurotic about not catching COVID. So much so that I caught it and despite a temperature of nearly a billion degrees I hauled myself out from underneath my weighted blanket to discover what life is like for some of the people who work, picking fruit for the renowned brand Mel Donte (who I honestly thought was a singer who'd once duetted with Patsy Cline (incidentally I've loved her for decades). Anyway, it turns out I was wrong and they actually can peaches and shit (these actually form part of one of my most celebrated and popular dishes, my peach and chickpea slurry - which the late Fanny Cradock once pulled this face at:
View attachment 356449
Needless to say, I had the last laugh when she died before I was born.
I was given some very strict instructions - to only pack the bare minimum and to head to a secret location. I hauled my one million kilo backpack of yellow stickered liver all the way to meet my driver, who blindfolded me and bundled me into the back of his Austin Maxi. Passport burning in my hand (or was it the long covid?) I wondered where I was headed. I awoke what felt like days later - hot, sweaty, fevered - in dire need of water and a hot shower. We had been travelling for so long, and had come so far - it seemed like an extremely and severely long time. My companion and guide for the trip arrived to greet me as I stepped out -sweating, heaving my backpack onto the dusty tarmac.
"Very pleased to meet you" she said, introducing herself as Barbara and curtseying to the ground. She was obviously highly aware of how regarded I was at The Groucho club, but I summoned her up from the floor and in a polite hot fury burning with a thousand suns asked if she was "aware of my work".
I was taken to set down my liver backpack and partake of refreshments and was assured I'd be allowed to meet the fruit pickers soon, which was what I, Jack Monroe, Patron Saint of Slop and Godsend was here to do - bring cheer to the masses. Like Vera Lynn with eggy farts.
A short time later I was escorted out to meet the common people, the workers - where my heart lies, as a povvo cosplay urchin with cor lumme lawks good humour and a scampering twinkle of shit.
It was so light, so bright, and the white light hurt my eyes - but the fresh smell of peaches tinged the air, I closed my eyes to drink in the experience and be at one with nature. I felt if I reached out I'd be able to pluck one of the ripe fruits, bite into it and savour the moment. Then I remembered that it would actually taste of something and have texture and vitamins in it and panicked that I hadn't brought my nutribullet with me.
Barbara, still unaware of my work, stepped forward to bring me out of my musings and introduce me to the gathering throng of fruit pickers who were clamouring for my attention. Some of them stared at me, others looked non plussed. At least one of them was picking their nose. I stood on a wooden pallet to make my maiden speech in front of the gathered throng:
"I know I have the body of a weak and feeble urchin, but I have the heart and stomach of an anchovy...and a tin can anchovy too"
Some wept openly such was the moving sentiment of my words - which I'd bashed out in half an hour on my Nokia. Others looked unmoved, but I would soon with them round with my narc charm by screaming "YOU LEFT" at them.
I was then invited to walk round...and off I scampered.
I was wide eyed with curiosity, watching the feverish milling of the workers, the povvos, as they went about their work. Something was troubling me though...and I couldn't put my finger on what. I had to ask someone. I, Jack Monroe, stepped forward and moved to talk to one of the hard working imps who I was, not so long ago, speaking passionately and emotively too.
"I'm fascinated. I'm a world renowned expert on food of all types - but I've never come across this before....how do you get the fruit to grow like that...in the cans....?"
I am sad to report that the urchin just gave me a withering look and carried on sealing the Mel Donte receptacles up.
My first day had been a roaring success. I'd communed with poor people, given them many pearls of wisdom - but was sadly no closer to finding out how fruit actually grew in a tin. I repaired to my hotel room for a shower, a siesta plus a piss and a sandwich.
My grateful thanks to all at Mel Donte for this wonderful, life affirming experience which I'll now dine out on for the next twenty years"
JinxIs anyone imagining the scene from The Office where Brent asks Dawn who her hero is, and then she goes through everyone who is her hero until it finally lands on Brent?
https://giphy.com/uYV7GupDhbvH2Why is she obsessed with Lashana Lynch? Are we finally going to hear her Bond theory?
Where did it say they were donating 10 grand before? Was that in The Express?
Thanks, my friend. There are some things that I can try but, in all honesty, I think it might be a stretch. My rights as an EU citizen (like all of us) end at 11pm on the 31st. The transition was a godsend in that it gave me a year to get sorted. I thought I had done so well, with my timing and only flew back on the 7th to wind things up here and get a family Christmas. I am (and have been) isolating at home in order to ensure if things change and a negative test will get me in, then I can take one. Apart from that, it’s all Up In The Air, anything else I can do.Shit, this is a nightmare. So close yet so far... isn't there some way to make happen even if you do end up leaving after the new year? Genuinely, genuinely hope this works out for you..
Grim, another Guardian commission she doesn't deserve I expect
So the sole purpose of posting this info today was for the personal acclaim, followed quite deliberately with the talk of nominating heroes of the year. Everything she does, absolutely everything, is a tactically planned stroking of her own ego.
I have questions...is this the same 10k already donated or another donation?
View attachment 356557
???
View attachment 356561
Jamie Oliver.
So she’s asked us all for our suggestions as she writes about heroes. There is vomit in my throat.
View attachment 356566
In all my years I have never came across as anyone as desperate for validation and love from complete strangers as her.Thanks, my friend. There are some things that I can try but, in all honesty, I think it might be a stretch. My rights as an EU citizen (like all of us) end at 11pm on the 31st. The transition was a godsend in that it gave me a year to get sorted. I thought I had done so well, with my timing and only flew back on the 7th to wind things up here and get a family Christmas. I am (and have been) isolating at home in order to ensure if things change and a negative test will get me in, then I can take one. Apart from that, it’s all Up In The Air, anything else I can do.
Not going to be too gutted though (well, trying not to!), because it does smack of self centred whinging and I know I am lucky even to have the opportunity. Things have moved on somewhat from the days of doing Xmas food shopping with a pram, a toddler and a bad cold, on Christmas Eve because that’s when I got paid and couldn’t afford to do it before!
Btw - not caught up yet so almost certain it’s probably been said but...but I have seen the Jack fishing for love tweet. My god, there’s desperate, and then there’s Jack.
MIGUEL BARCLAYJamie Oliver.
Wait wait wait!!! Am I seeing things?View attachment 356558
Dunno what the deleted one said.
We use cookies and similar technologies for the following purposes:
Do you accept cookies and these technologies?
We use cookies and similar technologies for the following purposes:
Do you accept cookies and these technologies?