It used to say ‘Public figure’. I wonder who gets to change that. Semantics, but to me ‘author’ is novels, not cookery books.
Jack Monroe #202 All of my spoons tell stories
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£10 a week? Please correct me if I'm wrong but isn't that when she did live below the line? That charity push where you sign up to do so?
I think you get to if you make it a professional account.
Hang on i thought it was 20 pounds, has our currency deflated without telling me.
‘Etc.’ is so conveniently all encompassing 
Can I do a Thread Title nom please for this?
It will confused the rest of Tattle and intrigue anyone who is Googling and ends up here and therefore get us more friends....
Yes - her original budget from her long-deleted blog was the Live Below the Line challenge. I had a lengthy dig through the archives last year, and it was enlightening!
I see she's deleted her passive aggressive swipe at That Man along with her promises of blogging the burnt slop one day.
Tbf i am glad shes hopefully sorting herself out, now what about those books?!
Ive been collecting all sorts of tat so that i can put it to good use, cat hair, nail clippings,. Used makeup wipes, empty cans, jars and lots and lots of food colouring to sub paints.
Ive been collecting all sorts of tat so that i can put it to good use, cat hair, nail clippings,. Used makeup wipes, empty cans, jars and lots and lots of food colouring to sub paints.
Er...she writes loads of fiction
Jack, the artist formerly known as The £10-a-Week Food Blogger. Imagine spending longer writing your social media bios than the book you've been promising to your publishers and half-witted squigs for months 
I notice she isn't boasting about the rampant success that was her most recent campaign #ThunderclapForJacksEgo
I notice she isn't boasting about the rampant success that was her most recent campaign #ThunderclapForJacksEgoIt says campaginer on her bio butJack, the artist formerly known as The £10-a-Week Food Blogger. Imagine spending longer writing your social media bios than the book you've been promising to your publishers and half-witted squigs for months
hope you've had a nice grunk.
Glad we have the receipts of the implicit admission that she’d been abusing her shopped-for ADHD meds. Ritalin does duck all for chronic narcissism, Jack.
Imagine reading that back and thinking “duck, I’d better delete the part that outs me as a speed addict, especially after disparaging people making perfectly reasonable critiques of my work as ‘addicts’” but still leaving in the part where she calls her co-parent “daddy”
Imagine reading that back and thinking “duck, I’d better delete the part that outs me as a speed addict, especially after disparaging people making perfectly reasonable critiques of my work as ‘addicts’” but still leaving in the part where she calls her co-parent “daddy”
I decree today that life is simply taking and not giving
Patreon is charging and I’m still grifting
Ask me for pie and I’ll throw slop
In your eye
Ask me for pie…
But we cannot cling to to the old things anymore, no we cannot cling
Does the body rule the mind or does the mind rule the body… I dunno
Under the crappy shed we kissed and although I ended up with fillered lips it just wasn’t like the old days anymore
No it wasn’t like those days
Am I still ill? *
*yes. Send cash.
Patreon is charging and I’m still grifting
Ask me for pie and I’ll throw slop
In your eye
Ask me for pie…
But we cannot cling to to the old things anymore, no we cannot cling
Does the body rule the mind or does the mind rule the body… I dunno
Under the crappy shed we kissed and although I ended up with fillered lips it just wasn’t like the old days anymore
No it wasn’t like those days
Am I still ill? *
*yes. Send cash.
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I had a weird dream about turning the hair out of the hairbrush into a sort of a coat/poncho type thing. I feel I should save it for the zombie apocalypse
So did my dad in his 80s. He once spotted Mum preparing celery to put into his favourite pasta dish and reminded her that he detested celery; she informed him that he had been eating it with delight for 30 plus years.
What's the over/under on tomorrow bringing us a self-satsified photo of the newly mown and strimmed garden, with one of Daddy's legs deliberately poking into shot, accompanied by another breadcrumb-filled, rambling caption that'll be deleted within minutes? What a way to live.
Also, "author" and "writer"?
I wonder if she’ll keep deleting the caption, bit by bit, until we‘re left with this?
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