Jack Monroe #435 I am Jack

[hoopdedoo]

@hooplifehero would it be terribly rude to request a weekly update to this wonderful story?!

Yes, please! This is something I would actually contribute to a Patreon to get!

 

[VeniVidiVicki]

I keep trying to figure out the thought process behind being off Twitter for several days and deciding to return to post about your shiny kettle.

And now I can’t even look at her Twitter because the post from insect woman about rubbing Jack’s stubborn bottom makes me heave.

Moar Emma please @hooplifehero!

 

[HotesTilaire]

Nice to see Mavis up and functioning

 

[MavisBeacon]

Nice to see Mavis up and functioning

Thank you dear heart. I could make up some nonsense about marauding hangover badgers sending me to my bed for a day or having to kick my way out of a train in Peterborough, but actually I've just been BUSY with WORK

 

[RamblerOfLandandMouth]

I’ve no idea what’s going on anymore

This is how I felt after what kind of lover Jack was started being discussed followed by my Stormzy is 72 years old chaos......just rolling with the crazy now.

 

[Mrs Peel]

ha ha! I was thinking maybe some sad forgotten cousin of Miss Bates in Emma. But perhaps she is an altogether more peculiar figure.

As Christmas-time approached, there was much discussion in Highbury of the new arrival, Miss Monroe. She had struggled through unfortunate times, it was said, and then almost married felicitously once, was disappointed at the altar, and then through the most unlucky happenstance that had ever befallen woman, had been disappointed at the altar not once but twice more. Having sagely pawned her engagement-rings, Miss Monroe had found herself among the richest in Surry, and then, through what Emma could only consider the most unkind fortune, had come to lose every penny.

Miss Monroe was, in short, a mystery - it was rumoured she had once extinguished a blazing fire single-handed, that her father was a wealthy landlord, that her brother was in the Grenadier Guards and that she herself, disguised as a boy, had fought bravely against Napoleon's forces - that she could cook a banquet for Ninepence, that she could lift Queen Victoria herself a full inch from the ground.

Emma, who had tasted Miss Monroe's baked wares at one memorable breakfast and decided not to repeat the experience, decided to reserve her judgement. In person, she found Miss Monroe a rather swaggering and vulgar figure, given to addressing those she had barely met as if they were friends, or even - unforgivably- as 'shipmates'.

'I'll sort it, Pal', she had declared to Mr Woodhouse, when he complained that he was worried the festive Goose would be cold before it reached the table, for it had to travel through the winter air from kitchen to Dining-Room, and 'it is so far, you know, Emma.'

'I think Mr Woodhouse will manage,' Emma told the newcomer politely. 'We shall have Cook and half-a-dozen servants.'

'Servants!' responded Miss Monroe, standing with her legs apart like a buccaneer. Emma could not fail to note - indeed, a blind dog would have observed - that the new arrival's garments were of the most curious design and in apparent disarray, patched from rough material and dull cotton, hanging loosely in places and ending abruptly in others. 'You won't be needing them with me around. I'm...' And she paused here to count on her hands. 'Cook, waitress, milkmaid, carpenter, painter, fighter, Mama and Papa.'

'Goodness,' was all that Emma could exclaim in reply. 'You must be extremely busy.' She took the opportunity to sip at her tea as she gathered her thoughts and composure. 'And what is it that you do, Miss Monroe?'

'What I do, ship-mate? I run a small shop, some might say. Other might call me Saviour of the Nation. I sew passing well, and I can fix a brass thimble or polish a kettle. If you want a dress run up for next week's ball, I'm your local non-binary lesbian single parent.'

'Remarkable.' Emma was not certain she had understood every word of the newcomer's explanation.

'It takes its toll, mate. It takes its toll.' And indeed, Miss Monroe's head was swinging from side to side rather like a tolling bell. 'Me crazy old head has been so mixed up cause of all those who wants to harm and hurt old Jack.'

'Oh dear,' Emma declared. 'I think Miss Monroe is unwell.'

Knightley stepped forward and commanded that the newcomer be conveyed back to her dwellings, with smelling-salts and many blankets for comfort, and that a long trip to the sea-side or the spa at Bath might be planned for her, far from Highbury.

'If you could just spare the cost of a warming cup on a cold night,' wailed Miss Monroe, her hand extended.

Mr Knightley pushed a coin roughly into it and ushered her from the room. 'There, and be off with you.'

'Thankyou,' Emma heard, a faint cry like a Banshee of the moors, as the door was slammed and firmly locked. 'Thankyou.'

This is magnificent!

 

[jf99]

Laid back in a slightly exhausting way.

’Bone idle bleep’

 

[Foxvint]

Less performative. Hope that helps. X

You’re obviously right. The cost of boiling it etc. Bonkers.

Also such an obvious point but how many times have u run out of shower gel so you use shampoo instead. Without making a blog post about your poverty/ingenuity or trying to make it your thing. Its all the same stuff

 

[Onestorytoomany]

Also such an obvious point but how many times have u run out of shower gel so you use shampoo instead. Without making a blog post about your poverty/ingenuity or trying to make it your thing. Its all the same stuff

My dear old dad was known to wash his hair with fairy liquid. We had shampoo, he was just maverick before his time.

 

[Archduchess of Luxembourg]

I just had a thought about Jack's campaigning and Secret Santa and I'm not sure if this is a stupid idea or not, or if this is the right place to post it if it's workable.

I was thinking about how places like Imgur or Reddit do 'Secret Santa' and it would be nice to do something like that here but obvs it would break all the rules of 🔺️

So was thinking actually, maybe we could do something like people nominate a charity for a donation, or a day volunteering at a food bank or an animal rescue, or a good deed, and people go and do it in the name of another user? Small, local charities could get much needed help or funds and we could get warm and fuzzies and Jack could still never.

Is this a silly idea? :/

 

[diva.wps]

My dear old dad was known to wash his hair with fairy liquid. We had shampoo, he was just maverick before his time.

All detergents are interchangeable

 

[Country Bumpkin]

It's all soap ennit?

Thankspaceyou for the instruction on how to blank out bleeping swear words and to do spoilers.. I suspect I've done it wrong..

Edit: Turns out I didn't!

 

[Fruitjack]

Ah the infamous dating profile that “her friends” wrote but which reads exactly like her excruciating writing.

At least she put mother first in that one. By 2018 in the Washington Post that was an afterthought behind all this other nonsensical bull including lying about being the patron of nine charities

View attachment 1777475View attachment 1777476
The idea of Jack’s “shy girlish armour” (that you can get her drunk to get rid of) makes me want to projectile vom exorcist-style even more than you deviants discussing what type of “lover” she would be yesterday. All of y’all who contributed to that are hereby heckin’ WARNED not to traumatize innocent fraus in such a repugnant manner.

PS that dating profile post is also the one where she identifies MAN SMELL as Lynx and Wotsits. Dunno who she’s bleeping but between that and the socks ALL MEN chuck on the floor for her to pick up it’s like it’s all made up and she’s never actually had an actual man in her house. Count yourselves lucky though, male fraus. She could have said you collectively smell of porky puffs pork scratchings and hai karate #1978 truther.

Scummy Single Mummy Does Dating: Echo & Gazette Column, 15th Jan 2013

The trouble with being professionally single is, well, it leaves you professionally single. When the greatest achievement on your CV is a double page spread in the national press for spending £10 a...

web.archive.org

ETA PS in that Post article she’s a “diarist” FFS Ok Alan Clark, I eagerly await the publication of your trite witterings fascinating insights.

When I was on dating websites mine just said ‘No Kopites, no Tories’. I have had my deliciously ordinary old Harold for nearly 5 years so it really makes you think.

 

[usefullyuseless]

My dear old dad was known to wash his hair with fairy liquid. We had shampoo, he was just maverick before his time.

My sister's ex used to clean his teeth with Mr Muscle ceramic cleaner. In fairness to him, I never heard of any reports of crumbling teeth. Really makes u think.

* I do not endorse the use of ceramic cleaner on teeth. Stick to toothpaste, kids.

Slightly more on topic: I wonder has Jack completed her move or is she in rehab.

 

[BurgerLaBill]

"I often pretend my sadness will end/But it won't" hmm, where else have we heard that? Really makes you think.

"I wish I could fess up to the lies....but I caannn't"

 

[Onestorytoomany]

I imagine her has hard work on a date. She would spend most of it talking about her, the snaffling, gobbling, munching of food would get irritating, she would probably order the mot expensive things on the menu and then moan about how poor and waif like she is. She would probably scamper around the other customers asking for their advice on her outfit whilst straddling various tables so they can see it properly.

All in all i think she would he a mare on a date.

 

[HotesTilaire]

The big error in that dating profile is the old fashioned 00’s naivety that there are men interested in reading that, queuing up for the chance to take her out, and need reminding to make an effort.
In reality they look at your photo and send you one of these messages
- hey bb
- Hi, I’m Bob, You probably won’t reply to this, are you even real…
- Hello, we meet at a cafe, we get along and even though you wouldn’t usually do this you decide to come back to my place. You‘ve correctly worked out that as am a generous lover, tender and respectful…(goes on for ten pages of weird cut n paste soft porn)
- (fool pic)

 

[TheDragonWithAFlagon]

Soz for off-topic, but whereabouts in the Sali threads should I be looking for this?

[Taps nose]

'Tis not on the threads, Dearest Piskie-chausseurs. It was a very nice wedding, though.

 

[Wooh]

You are an inspiration, thanks for everything that you do to help people and raise awareness of the struggles so many have to deal with daily. Never believe the haters, you are loved.

Quote from some pinhead on the blog

I printed it for my daily affirmations, and it's now microchipped to my bathroom mirror

Thanks, Jack

I only read half the post as I feel just as you do often these days. BUT I have a little more than you do and would like to share it with you and I mean that. Where can I send you a regular stipend ?? Another suggestion is for you to put a donate button on your site, lots of bloggers have one and that also helps them be able to share their expertise with all of us. Please do not sell all your things ,especially items that help you in this world be happier and have a means to make some cash. God bless you, *Another Pinhead*

 

[Mr Krabs]

The big error in that dating profile is the old fashioned 00’s naivety that there are men interested in reading that, queuing up for the chance to take her out, and need reminding to make an effort.
In reality they look at your photo and send you one of these messages
- hey bb
- Hi, I’m Bob, You probably won’t reply to this, are you even real…
- Hello, we meet at a cafe, we get along and even though you wouldn’t usually do this you decide to come back to my place. You‘ve correctly worked out that as am a generous lover, tender and respectful…(goes on for ten pages of weird cut n paste soft porn)
- (fool pic)

It’s been a while since I online dated but Jesus, the third one is spot on. Especially if you hint that you might be into something not totally vanilla. Certain men will take this as a carte blanche to send over their gross tank fantasies that are so poorly written they make 50 Shades look like a modern classic. And always accompanied by a selfie of a bloke easily in his 60s (pretending to be 45) staring downwards into the camera and frowning.

I haven’t watched TV on a Saturday in a while but Fingers is on telly right now. He’s doing a sort of Mary Portas with a farm shop. If only they had asked Jack to help out with her business acumen. I mean, she made £10k in profits in a couple of days just on T-shirts. Imagine what she could do with struggling retailers.