Isn't Tuesday SB night as well?
Jack Monroe #335 Boob, I guess
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Who would even admit to giving someone a pound? WTF are they supposed to do with it? Oh, I forgot, buy a fukcing biscuit.
y
Sometimes I forget just how utterly thick she is, then she does something like this. Her view of politics, socioeconomics, capitalism et al is roughly equivalent to the understanding my ten year old nephew displays.
ETA just for a bit of context here, my little cousin is a heroin addict and it is indeed largely due to a tremendous amount of trauma but as a medic I have been attacked more times than I can actually remember by addicts, including her. Addiction is a vast, vast topic that involves far more nuance than this goodies and baddies approach she so consistently espouses. It's like she thinks Disney films are documentaries.
ETA just for a bit of context here, my little cousin is a heroin addict and it is indeed largely due to a tremendous amount of trauma but as a medic I have been attacked more times than I can actually remember by addicts, including her. Addiction is a vast, vast topic that involves far more nuance than this goodies and baddies approach she so consistently espouses. It's like she thinks Disney films are documentaries.
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I wouldn't bloody post about my grand good deed on SM like a virtue signalling ninny.
Exclusive access to the poverty book-
Chapter 344- How to feed yourself for free.
I went walking on the long and arduous and difficult journey to my local supermarket, where I was utterly aghast and dismayed at the price of a tub of butter. Nearly £10 whole English sterling pounds. Readers, I cannot lie to you because of my Autism. I cried. I stopped and I sobbed. This pricing of dairy spread brought back so many traumatic memories for me and SB. Those cold, dreary, mornings with no butter for our dry crunchy, grilled by candle light toast. No butter for the poor. Single mothers deserve margarine only. I physically shook as I scrunched myself in a ball by the selection of alternatives. There was Smart Price butter that I helped get back on the shelves for the actual poors, but I am Jack Monroe, I have worked too long and too hard to eat inferior own braaaands myself. I wanted proper designer butter.
So readers, here is my secret. I slipped that tub of golden magic under my saggy, home dyed grey jumper. I nestled it there like my ickle creamy baby. Thoughts of OH filled my wonky brain, and the tears nearly began again. No. If I can't have love; I shall have butter. I was fizzing and hooting inside as I wandered with purpose, filling my small basket with my meagre £20 shop. Radishes? Yes. Quark? Of course.
The security guard was being mendacious and eyeing my up from the moment I walked in. Maybe he recognised me, but I had long sleeves on, my tattoos are my ID. Maybe he fancied me, wanted a swipe right and a cake baked. Or maybe he knew I was a poor, single mother, with arthritis and ouchy mouth and thought I was a thief. He followed me and followed me and followed me. He eventually came up to me, but the lingering honk of my unwashed clothes was enough to get him to back away.
I giggled like a naughty school pixie during my uber ride home. Free butter is a joy to get my lil heart beating again, I felt alive and the lights were on in my life again. Butter fills my void.
I went walking on the long and arduous and difficult journey to my local supermarket, where I was utterly aghast and dismayed at the price of a tub of butter. Nearly £10 whole English sterling pounds. Readers, I cannot lie to you because of my Autism. I cried. I stopped and I sobbed. This pricing of dairy spread brought back so many traumatic memories for me and SB. Those cold, dreary, mornings with no butter for our dry crunchy, grilled by candle light toast. No butter for the poor. Single mothers deserve margarine only. I physically shook as I scrunched myself in a ball by the selection of alternatives. There was Smart Price butter that I helped get back on the shelves for the actual poors, but I am Jack Monroe, I have worked too long and too hard to eat inferior own braaaands myself. I wanted proper designer butter.
So readers, here is my secret. I slipped that tub of golden magic under my saggy, home dyed grey jumper. I nestled it there like my ickle creamy baby. Thoughts of OH filled my wonky brain, and the tears nearly began again. No. If I can't have love; I shall have butter. I was fizzing and hooting inside as I wandered with purpose, filling my small basket with my meagre £20 shop. Radishes? Yes. Quark? Of course.
The security guard was being mendacious and eyeing my up from the moment I walked in. Maybe he recognised me, but I had long sleeves on, my tattoos are my ID. Maybe he fancied me, wanted a swipe right and a cake baked. Or maybe he knew I was a poor, single mother, with arthritis and ouchy mouth and thought I was a thief. He followed me and followed me and followed me. He eventually came up to me, but the lingering honk of my unwashed clothes was enough to get him to back away.
I giggled like a naughty school pixie during my uber ride home. Free butter is a joy to get my lil heart beating again, I felt alive and the lights were on in my life again. Butter fills my void.
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I bet she got the sack from her job folding towels. We know how the Sainsburys job ended...
Honestly, supermarket work sucks. As a young Cookie, I did my time behind the tills, and never again. On multiple occasions I've been spat at, threatened, stalked, and had someone pull a moonie at me. And the never ending moaning about prices. Like it's the shop workers fault!
Living where I do, and seeing what I see on a daily basis, Jack really, really doesn't want what she's saying to happen actually happen. It's not nice, and she definitely wouldn't like it.
Exactly. Don't most people do minor good deeds sometimes without the need for validation? It is called being a normal decent human being. And then not publicising it to patronise the recipient.
'I slid him over a pound and he doffed his cap, the tears shining in his grateful rheumy eyes "God bless you sir, God bless you. I'll eat well tonight. For once" as he limped off. I went home and after my meal sat by the fire with brandy in hand reflecting how today I had helped A Poor'.
No Jack, you're not a massive, massive bleep. You're a massive, lying bleep.
Bing bong! Toddler tantrum in the butter aisle. Bing bong!
What is the daft bint on about now? If you think shoplifting is the answer then you’ve already lost the argument.
What is the daft bint on about now? If you think shoplifting is the answer then you’ve already lost the argument.
Absolute bleeping weapon for a decade more like.She is such a wanker
God bless the daft wazzock. Her earnest belief in her mediocre talents and minimal impact on anything often gives this jaded ninny a much needed belly laugh.
'an absolute loose cannon for a whole damn decade'. Priceless.
Jack couldn't cope with any one of those people she talks about. She can deal with the luvvies who like to powder their noses, and drink too much of the high end stuff. She'd die of fright if she encountered street addicts. She really would.
Exactly. Ol stab vest performative twit Monroe’s fantasy rough and tumble life is all utter nonsense and about as far removed from stark reality as it’s possible to get.
Pretty sure that she has something like this in mind when she’s picturing the imaginary brothel she used to work in too. All plush curtains and carpets, jazz on the piano and distinguished-looking gentlemen callers in the parlour. “Why Governor Boudreaux I do declare, have y’all come all this way just to see lil ol smol pixie me?”
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I'll be honest reading through all her random expulsions of utter bovine dung I'm surprised she's ever been employed at all. As for the £1 giver how utterly crass to wave the "good deed" banner for approval. A real good deed doer does so without seeking praise.... Says a lot about what circles her starry firmament...
Remember when Jack said we were only here discussing her contradictions/suitability for telly because we were all addicts?
ETA sorry just saw the posts about this upthread! Good times. She's such a disgusting hypocrite.
Re: the hot hot flannel. It never ceases to make me LOL. Literal skin experts advise lukewarm water for washing the sensitive facial skin, you're not even supposed to wash your face in the shower because the water temp is too warm for the face. I don't even believe she actually uses this method, it's just something ridiculous to say. Monkey hot ooh ooh ahh ahh. CRINGE.
ETA sorry just saw the posts about this upthread! Good times. She's such a disgusting hypocrite.
Re: the hot hot flannel. It never ceases to make me LOL. Literal skin experts advise lukewarm water for washing the sensitive facial skin, you're not even supposed to wash your face in the shower because the water temp is too warm for the face. I don't even believe she actually uses this method, it's just something ridiculous to say. Monkey hot ooh ooh ahh ahh. CRINGE.
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duck ME that was a grunk and a half
She really flipped her butter lid then didn’t she!She’s not a firework she’s a wet match, absolutely useless for anything except blurting out controversial nonsense.
And all this encouragement for stealing (she can say that’s not what she’s doing all she likes, doesn’t make it true) is just tone death.
Take South Africa last year for example, looting and increase in crime isn’t going to help anyone.
Is she picturing someone valiantly stealing bread loaves and chucking them to orphans outside like they’re Aladdin or something?
Have you ever considered writing an Aptly Named Index?Bake cakes, put it in mash, kids sarnies, anything. Butter your snakes with it, just get rid of it and get back on the good gear.
pay cheap, pay twice as my mum says
Whenever she has a chaos (and they do seem to be getting more frequent), it seems that she’s getting more and more pushbacks from squigs. And we get more new members over here too. It’s gradual, but after a while even her most ardent followers will start to see just how bloody unpleasant she is - even before they pick up on the compulsive lying.
Re: HMRC - I wonder if she tried to tell them she wasn’t *stealing* all that unpaid tax, oh no, it’s just a *souvenir*, cos she is A Poor who can *only* afford to rent a top-end property with enormous garden next to a private law tennis club in the poshest part of Southend. I do hope she did.
And Superdrug. Did they actually sack her? I mean, they announced the partnership on 23 May and since then there’s been nothing, as far as I’ve seen. I wouldn’t be surprised, normally she puts the bare minimum of effort in and then the whole sorry business is quietly buried (see: Hellmanns, Linda McCartney, Del Monte, that pooey Christmas pudding thing). But wasn’t she supposed to be maxing her work so she can buy a house next year?
Re: HMRC - I wonder if she tried to tell them she wasn’t *stealing* all that unpaid tax, oh no, it’s just a *souvenir*, cos she is A Poor who can *only* afford to rent a top-end property with enormous garden next to a private law tennis club in the poshest part of Southend. I do hope she did.
And Superdrug. Did they actually sack her? I mean, they announced the partnership on 23 May and since then there’s been nothing, as far as I’ve seen. I wouldn’t be surprised, normally she puts the bare minimum of effort in and then the whole sorry business is quietly buried (see: Hellmanns, Linda McCartney, Del Monte, that pooey Christmas pudding thing). But wasn’t she supposed to be maxing her work so she can buy a house next year?
While the overgrown toddler is napping, can someone point me to the origin of the glove thing?
This just came across my feed and I just about snorted my cuppa.
This just came across my feed and I just about snorted my cuppa.
Whatever teacher was setting this work has obviously read too much trashy Matt Haig. Teachers worth their salt think your behaviour is appalling Jack.
Also, it is so sad that she hasn’t the compassion to see that a “corporate billionaire” might suffer addiction problems of their own and the two groups of people who are mentioned in this tweet below are not mutually exclusive.
Apologies for not grunking. Her morning crappy essay was too crappy and my tether is too short.
Jack eleventy billion jobs Monroe
Do you have people you can talk to? Says queen pov rattling around in her vast bungelow, alone, no Tuesday sb visit shouting at twitter
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