Jack Monroe #438 She's a thief and her food is like slop. Delete this.

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Hold my beans

Hold my beans

Valiofthedolls said:
It’s definitely…a look. It’s like she’d been binge reading Jilly Cooper and thought she was channelling “sexy lady horse rider” but missed and got “Tory Local Councillor coming to open a car park” instead.
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‘Tis indeed and ~one~ of the ~many~ Burberry scarves too.
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For someone who changes their look more than their underwear, she never gets one right, does she?
 
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Switchstreetz

Switchstreetz

hooplifehero said:
Hope you enjoyed your break... back again with Chapter 3 Part Two

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‘Well!’ Emma gathered herself and surveyed the canvas. She had altered Miss Monroe’s lips a little, and made slight improvements to her eyes, and to her hair, and redesigned the tattoos upon her arms, and removed some of the dirt on her feet, and dressed her in more appropriate clothing, and while it did not look so much like Miss Monroe now, it was undeniably a pretty drawing, worthy of display above any mantlepiece.



‘You have made me too tall!’ the painting’s subject complained, appearing suddenly at Emma’s shoulder. ‘I am barely four-feet-tall, and you draw me as a giant.’



‘I... I think not, dear. For I am five-feet-three, and you are surely taller than me.’



The other ignored her, and leaned forward to the canvas, rubbing the surface with her fingertips to blur and soften the pencil drawing, until all details were lost and it looked as though it was being viewed through a smeared pair of eye-glasses.



‘That’s more like me,’ she declared, standing back.



‘I am sure Mr Elton will love it, when he has regained his health.’ Although even as she spoke, Emma wondered at the wisdom of pairing Mr Elton with Miss Monroe. He had seemed to her a foolish, harmless individual, an ideal pawn for her idle games of match-making, but now for the first time she hesitated and wondered if her schemes were folly; worse, if they were cruelty. To place Miss Monroe into matrimony with Mr Elton would be like throwing a mouse to a cheetah and instructing them to play together as friends.



‘Elton? I care not for his opinion,’ scorned Miss Monroe. ‘His view is as trifling to me as a troll under a bridge.’ And from one of the pockets of her waistcoat she produced a miniature trumpet, blowing a fanfare. ‘Toot toot!’



‘Then why... why were you so keen to have your portrait painted at his insistence?’ Emma asked, genuinely at a loss for once in her life.



‘I was keen to have my portrait painted by You, Emma. It is You I care for, You I admire, You whose ample charms I wish to cup in these hands of toil. Order me a bonnet, buy me a ring and invite Mr Elton to announce the banns, for I am in love and see Marriage on the near horizon! Am I right in thinking your father has an income of over ten thousand pounds per year, by the way?’



‘Miss Monroe!’ exclaimed Emma. ‘Of course, in time I was prepared to love you as a Sister, and welcome such intimacy as I have enjoyed with Mrs Weston when she was dear Miss Taylor, but the improprieties you speak of are unconscionable at present and will only become socially acceptable in one hundred-and-fifty years time, or more. Were I to live until such a brave new era arrived, I would count myself as an ally of such women – why, I could even... if the law and society allowed it, I could perhaps contemplate...’ – and here she thought of Miss Jane Fairfax with such warm regard that her cheeks flushed – ‘but no, Miss Monroe. Such a union between us is quite impossible.’



Miss Monroe drew herself to her full height, which Emma was secretly pleased to note was far taller than four feet. ‘Fie and shame upon you for a hypocrite,’ said she. ‘You are no more an ally to my kind than the Holy Roman Empire is an ally to France. I know where you live – ‘



‘That surprises me not,’ Emma responded pertly, ‘For you have spent the last fortnight in my father’s house, sleeping in every spare bed, and by daytime emptying his larder and cellars.’



‘That is my Work!’ cried the other. ‘That is what I do. The D_vil take me if I ever give up on my war against privileged society – ‘



‘You wage your War by consuming the ham and salmon, the veal and chickens, of a man who has been nothing but good to you?’



‘D__n you and your household, for I consume nothing but vegetables,’ declared the proud Miss Monroe. ‘



‘Because you have left us nothing in the kitchen but vegetables,’ Emma protested, gathering herself. ‘You have outstayed your welcome here, Miss Monroe. I must request that you leave us.’



‘Aye, you’d love that, Emma. To see me crawl in the gutter and walk in front of a carriage, leaving a small boy as an Orphan.’ (Emma had seen no evidence of a small boy during Miss Monroe’s extended residence in Highbury, and sometimes wonder whether this mythical infant even existed).



‘But why should you be reduced to the gutter? You have a large house yourself, I have heard, in Hertfordshire.’



‘A mere hovel!’



‘A hovel, I have heard, with a dozen rooms and twenty servants.’



‘Scurrilous lies! Who told you such falsehoods?’



Emma blushed a little at this, for she had overheard the maid, Molly, whispering it in the scullery, and did not like to admit that she took any account of tattle from the working classes, especially if, as she suspected, Molly was repeating it second-hand from other sources to claim her own glory.



‘I thought as much. Don’t worry, Pal, I’ll trouble you no more. And I’ll trouble Life no more, neither!’



With those words, she was gone, and Emma experienced a wave of absolute relief, combined with a pang of concern. ‘Where will you go?’ she called.



‘To H_ll, I expect!’ came the bold reply.



Emma could not allow even such a miserable creature to venture out aimlessly and alone.



‘Miss Monroe,’ she called after the departing figure. ‘My friend Miss Bennet lives on the Longbourn Estate in Hertfordshire. If you are in that area, call on her and mention my name, and she will help you, I am sure.’



‘Thankyou...’ replied a mournful hoot, like a lost owl.



But as she watched Miss Monroe stride away -- with no visible sign of arthritis or brittle bones, Emma was pleased to note – she wondered if she had just cursed poor Miss Elizabeth Bennet and her family.
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Bravo 👏 you're a legend Hoops!
 
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TheDragonWithAFlagon

TheDragonWithAFlagon

Valiofthedolls said:
This is one of my favourite manipulative Jack selfies- done for no real reason whatsoever too.
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It’s basically a mashup of these two things
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Taken in a children’s playground when she had to leap heroically from an Edinburgh-London train in days old clothing to be very busy and important in the meeja. Evidence of busy-ness, importance and train leapage.
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Oh and this is what smol little vulnerable big eyed Shrek-Jack ACTUALLY looks like, taken the day before (in the same clothes)
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Now I know she's lying about her height.

I buy short fitting trousers so I don't have six inches of fabric to trip over. Some of them - M&S are my usual place - are still too long for me, so I end up with 7/8 trousers being full length.

I'm five foot six.
 
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HotesTilaire

HotesTilaire

Valiofthedolls said:
👩🏻‍🎤 🎄 🖼 CREATIVE JACK ALERT🖼🎄👩🏻‍🎤 (festive edition)
From 12th December 2014, Jack brings you delightful Christmas crafts with a handy how-to guide. Even if you haven’t been to Tanzania with Oxfam, or a “Sunday School Teaching Girls Brigade Leader” I’m pretty sure you could still make this, as long as you remember to festively “Duct tape the tit out of it”.
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cookingonabootstrap.com

Have yourself a cheaper little Christmas… I made a wreath!!

I’ll keep this one short and sweet: I read an article in one of the free London papers the other day about the best Christmas wreaths on the market, pored through it, wondered if we should ge…
cookingonabootstrap.com cookingonabootstrap.com
I find Leggy somewhat insufferable, but duck me, she had a lot to put up with
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And 😬
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I’m amazed Leggy made it to May. Mind you, Jack probably dropped this after about 1-3 days anyway.
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MiLady!
Is Jack a fedora neckbeard herself???
 
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Lazarus

Lazarus

@hooplifehero can I ask a quick question please?
At school were you diagnosed as gifted? If not, well you d__n well should have been and I must assume the school governor was trying to bring you down a peg or two.
Chapeau dear pet, you are very, very talented.
 
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