- Notice
bananapeel
Well-known member
Update: on her 'Granger lifestyle' Pinterest board, she has this book:
May I nominate Ruby Granger #31: At home again: a Victorian children's book
as the next thread title?
This book encapsulates way too much of what she's been displaying: moving back into her childhood room, obsession with white Victorian sanatorium dresses, childhood, reading children's books...
May I nominate Ruby Granger #31: At home again: a Victorian children's book
as the next thread title?
This book encapsulates way too much of what she's been displaying: moving back into her childhood room, obsession with white Victorian sanatorium dresses, childhood, reading children's books...
gossip_guy
VIP Member
She should've just titled this video 'Ruby Tries Desperately to Make Her Childhood Regression Seem Normal and Avoid Therapy (AD)'.
So...her logic is that her regular desk--sorry, DASK--cannot be used for writing.
I mean, she's not wrong - it's been clear to everyone here that this small wedge of wood she calls a "DASK" isn't fit for purpose, especially now she's bought a giant iMac she didn't need to take up the entire space.
At this point, anyone with even a sliver of sense would go to Ikea or a used furniture place or somewhere to find a suitable desk and office chair if they'd just committed themselves to a year of deskbound writing.
Anyone else in Ruby's position would move into the house she bought for herself and utilise one of the many rooms there for a dedicated office. Or as a backup, why not put a desk in one of the dozen or so disused living rooms gathering dust in her family home and use that as a workspace?
Nah, Ruby's solution is to just take the battered old child's school desk "from CHARLDHOOD" that she had stored in the house and shove that in a cramped corner of her room, completely blocking the door so she presumably has to leave through the window now. Her new view while writing will be a blank wall with some stars hung on in - a bit of subliminal encouragement to try to help her believe that she's a gifted child star and not a rapidly aging moron with the mental capacity of a woodlouse.
Like everything she owns, this desk is full of dirt and mold.
There appears to be demonic black ectoplasm oozing out of it, and the sinister scrawl of some tormented soul has been etched into the desk's insides. Presumably this desk contains the trapped soul of some Victorian orphan, forever to remain inside until someone can read their cryptic message and free them from this eternal prison. Unfortunately, Ruby won't read anything longer than a dozen words, so it's endless desk-bound purgatory for that poor child's soul.
Instead of cleaning the desk in any way, she just filled it back up with redundant junk and childish nonsense, like her Matilda pencil case.
She then reminds everyone once again that she's a colossal idiot. Much as she might love to pretend she's the queen of organisation, planning and routine, she does nothing but fill her time with redundant, time-wasting busywork. That's as true in physical spaces as it is in all her digital planners and to-do lists.
She pulls out a "wroiyting slyope" in which she stores all of her letter-writing supplies. She rambles about how much she loves it and points out that it's "the PARFACT SARFASS FOR WROIYTING when you're out and about". Ruby never goes out anywhere, so I'm not sure how that's a selling point for her, or who in their right mind would be lugging this hefty case-full of crap around on a day out like, "Hold on, just gotta make sure I don't forget my keys, my phone and my back-breaking antique suitcase full of never-to-be-used notebooks - I'd be lost without that!" More importantly though, she notes that "there's a RAST hyarr for your PANS".
Not sure why you'd want to keep kitchenware in with your envelopes, but whatever.
After saying that she'll continue using this "wroyting slyope" in addition to the school desk and her other desk, she just gets right back to the infantile school desk situation.
So...what the fuck was the point in showing this? It's a pointless inclusion, and all is does is show that she has endless amounts of redundant clutter in her room, the whole place is too cramped and full of useless crap, and not only is she not going to consolidate or make space by decluttering, she's going to add more unwieldy shit to her small room. What a dumbass.
She says that her first step to setting up her new writing space is to write a list of all the things she wants to keep in her baby-sized school desk. It quickly becomes clear that either she never writes anything, she's a braindead moron, or both. If she spent as much time writing longhand in books and journals as she claimed, she's already know what her most-used items and supplies are.
She also shows off some more of her writing.
"Everything is languid and
hot - so slow that
you can't hear it, and our
watches become
futile."
Pro tip, Ruby: Spend less time setting up multiple writing spaces and more time giving up on writing and getting a job, because you're not cut out for this in any way. This is complete drivel. Ruby can apparently now only write about the weather. She has no imagination, perspective or experience to draw from, so she exclusively writes about things she sees out her bedroom window, and even then she describes the weather as though it's the viewpoint of some illiterate alien.
She slaps Dance of the Little Swans on for the trillionth time and there's just an endless montage of her clattering about in drawers and banging all the stationery supplies that she never uses around to the point where her narration is inaudible.
She fills her desk up with 95% affectatious bullshit which she'll never use, like feather quills. She says she needs to keep a stockpile of stamps in there, too.
Some of the stamps are themed, and she reads out one with a literary quote on it. Add another word to the utterly endless list of words Ruby can't pronounce or doesn't understand. Sentinel is apparently pronounced "senni-tal" now - update your vocabularies accordingly.
As if she didn't have enough clutter, Ruby keeps saying she's bought additional stuff, like more stationery and this writing organiser, which she'll apparently lug around in addition to her "wroiyting slyope", I guess? She says that this, too, is perfect for when she'll be out and about. She'll apparently need a never-ending supply of writing utensils for when she makes the 10 foot journey to her back yard.
Ruby casually points out that there's so much random bullshit all over her room that some of it had to be stuffed in the back of her toddler-sized chair. Her mother is filming this whole thing, and neither of them stop to consider the sheer stupidity of this entire endeavour or the overwhelming creepiness of this 22-year-old woman trying to recreate her life when she was 11, living in a room with a child's bed, desk and chair, and kiddyish scrapbook decorations that the average 13-year-old would have outgrown.
While she's showing off the latest layer of her childhood regression, Ruby protest that she's really a mature grown-up who likes to go to libraries and coffee shops to write. Ruby hasn't shown herself in a coffee shop since she left uni. She spent the entirety of university avoiding the library. She goes nowhere and the sum total of her writing this year is a few incoherent poems.
But Ruby also has to keep pretending she goes out in public all the time because this video is sponsored by "Nyord V.P. Anne"! So, naturally, Ruby can't talk about VPN services without pretending she uses one in coffee shops. She couldn't even be bothered to go to the nearest coffee shop just to get a few minutes of footage of her using her laptop in public.
Ruby says she's been using NordVPN for over a year, as though she's a long-standing happy customer. She refuses to clarify that she's technically been using it for over a year only because that's how long they've been sponsoring her. She doesn't use the service outside sponsored videos and has never mentioned or shown herself doing so. It's all a complete mess of lies and stupidity. Ruby claims she's created a bulky portable writing setup for on-the-go literary sessions, but then says she'd be taking her laptop, too, because she has to advertise the sponsor. She's a stupid, deceitful little toad.
And if I worked at NordVPN and had paid Ruby for this video, I'd want my money back. As always, it's so sloppily filmed and edited. The sponsored section is almost entirely garbled with choppily-edited partial sentences. Thanks to her fake accent, weird cadence and her rushed, mush-mouthed slurred speech, it's all a complete mess. She announces that viewers can uses a code if they want to "styart yoosing Nyord V.P. Anne Tyoo!" and her inflection makes it sound like it's "Nord VPN 2: The Sequel to NordVPN".
![Untitled54646575675646475645675674578776342]8934538465098756456.jpg](data:image/svg+xml;charset=utf-8,%3Csvg xmlns%3D'http%3A%2F%2Fwww.w3.org%2F2000%2Fsvg' width='900' height='166' viewBox%3D'0 0 900 166'%2F%3E)
I went back switched on subtitles at this point, and they came to the same conclusion I did.
And then she completely butchers the sponsor name somehow and just doesn't bother with a second take.
That subtitle is entirely accurate. This brain-addled dipshit actually calls it GeorgeVPN. No second takes. No second brain cells, either - she's maxed out at one.
Back to the infantile desk fiasco, Ruby opens up her shrine to her childhood and says she wanted to put a scroll with her goals for the year inside.
Remember, Ruby uses all her own products and to-do lists, and they're all designed by her from the ground up to suit her needs, so she never has to do things like make goal scrolls out of scrap paper. Ruby couldn't figure out how to get the scroll to...scroll, so she gives up on the whole thing immediately rather than try a little hard, workshop ideas or even research ideas. Improvement isn't part of Ruby's toolset and if she can't be rewarded instantly, she isn't interested.
Instead, she just bolts a gigantic fucking laundry peg to the underside of her desk lid, because it wasn't cluttered with enough cumbersome crap already. And of course, she shills some Ponkin' Poddocktivtea products that nobody's buying.
Her fake Emma Watson accent goes into overdrive as she mentions that they had a "A SPAAH CHAAH DOWNSTAAHS", which she immediately slams against the wardrobe.
Rubert the Barely Literate says that her parents said that she could put it in her room. This is Ruby's childhood chair/desk. Nobody else is going to want it. Nobody else is stupid enough to try sitting on this regularly as an adult. Why the fuck is Ruby seeking permission from mummy and daddy how to decorate her room, other than as yet another desperate and pathetic way that she gets to feel like a child again?
She inadvertently pokes holes in more of her own lies as she claims that she'll use the back of her chair to store many "nyotebocks"...including the travel notebook that she'll use when she's "out on the gyo". Y'know, the thing that belongs in that travel writing organiser thing she was just pretending she'll use.
Sooo...every time Ruby goes on an imaginary outing, she's got like seventeen different hefty stashes of crap she expects people to believe she's taking? Yeah, I'm not buying it, Rubes.
Ruby's back at her iMac in her destroyed armchair, and somehow this spine-mangling, eye-straining setup is now the second worst seating situation in Ruby's room. She has yet to explain why she decided not to get anything resembling a comfortable chair designed for adults. I mean, it's obvious why, but I'd love to hear Ruby's excuse.
She takes a break from destroying her eyesight and vertebrae to "rearrange the Pode-aroid pictures". Pode-aroid.
For some reason she then starts unpacking even more clutter, pulling her moldy steamer trunk from under her bed. It's a flimsy excuse to shoehorn in another undeclared ad for snack bars which she keeps in there.
In case this video weren't a creepy enough reminder of her childhood fixation, she reveals that she keeps a stockpile of photos of young children under her bed, because that's not terrifying or anything.
After shining a massive light on just how cramped and cluttered her room is and how much worse she's made the situation, she gleefully announces that she's ordered even more shit from "AT-Sea". Ruby disingenuously virtue-signals that she always tries to support small businesses when we know she always goes out of her way to avoid showing any support for independent shops. She refuses to name independent shops she might visit in Instagram posts to provide them with much-needed advertising and instead desperately mentions Waterstones as much as she can to chase a sponsorship.
So did she finally see sense and order an office chair and a proper desk? Nope.
Dumbass claims she needs an antique letter organiser. Y'know, to organise all those letters that nobody sends her. "JANUINELY, THIS IS PARRFACT."
Naturally, she mentions that it's VARRY EXPANSIVE, as though £30 isn't just pocket change to her.
JUST BUY A FUCKING PROPER DESK AND CHAIR ALREADY, RUBY.
You can even get ones that suit the Dark Academia aesthetic that you keep claiming to love. You have all the money in the world to buy a gorgeous, spacious vintage mahogany or walnut desk and a nice ergonomic leather-look or Chesterfield-style office chair to match. But, of course, those are things an adult would use, so Ruby wants no part of it. Next she'll decide her bed is too grown up and buy a vintage rocking crib to sleep in.
Moving on to the "finishing TOTCHES" and Ruby decided that there weren't enough fire hazards in her room already so she sets a candle up where it'll immediately set her whole fucking wall ablaze. And then there's a child's initial coaster, because apparently Etsy were fresh out of these:
Even though Ruby has ink pots aplenty, she decides to also fill the inkwell in her battered and moldy desk, which is 100% going to leak and wreck everything inside. And after all the talk of this being a desk for writing in "nyotebocks" and "latters", Ruby just goes ahead and dumps a fucking great big typewriter on it and then awkwardly stabs at random keys like a toddler let loose in her parent's office. She is never going to use this thing.
Yeah...this is definitely going to end well...
(Reminder: Her mother is the one filming this. Neither one of these braindead fuckwits sees the obvious problem with setting fires close to flammable materials.)
Ruby again points out that she now has two desks in her room - one has her computer and the other is this shrine to primary school blocking her doorway. She practically drops all pretence of this being a practical decision that can be explained rationally and just says it's "a step back in toime, which is rilly noice." Again, her mother doesn't point out how unhealthy any of this insanity is.
She rambles on about how wonderful her "DASK" is and the "poldaroids" and all the infantile bullshit she's assembled, all the while she's wildly gesticulating with her hands, waving her arm about and nearly knocking the fucking candle over.
Ruby's rambling again, but then there's a random cutaway and presumably her mum grew a brain cell and told Ruby to remove the candle off-camera, because it cuts back and Ruby's sheepishly relocating the candle to her other desk.
Reminder: It's broad daylight and it's an unscented candle - there's no need to be lighting them at all, especially if you're Ruby and have zero mental faculties, hand-eye coordination or attention span.
She shows the inside of the desk again and just repeats all the stuff she already said earlier in the video. This was obviously filmed across multiple days for some reason as evidenced by the 257 outfit changes, so Ruby evidently didn't bother checking any footage and just repeated a bunch of stuff.
She points out that she also has a travel pencil case for if she goes "out and about". So that's another pack of redundant crap she expects people to believe she takes with her on these imaginary trips outdoors.
(Ruby apparently going "out and about".)
She also points out an "Ed Grallenpo" notebook that she keeps in her desk, full of handwriting by "Ed Grallenpo". I assume this is one of Ruby's neighbours or childhood teachers. I wonder if he knows his handwriting is a lot like Edgar Allen Poe's.
By this point I started to picture a look of dawning realisation and utter dread on Mother Granger's face as she filmed her daughter gleefully rattling off a list of all her favourite things like a small child showing off their room on their very first playdate, after having adorned her room with pictures of small children and turning her entire room into a creepy cocoon of infantilised insanity. If I were a parent and saw this happening with my 22-year-old child, I'd borrow some of that stationery to start sending out invites to her intervention. This is complete lunacy.
Ruby caps off the video by insisting that this is all "VARRY LATTER-WRITING FYOCUSED". It just comes off as desperate deflection to avoid acknowledging that she's making zero progress writing (or in general) since leaving uni and just wants to be a child again, so she's gone even further in her crusade to turn her room into a time capsule of childhood regression. Mother Granger had better start wearing jeans at all times, because at this rate, Ruby's probably going to try to climb back into the womb.
So...her logic is that her regular desk--sorry, DASK--cannot be used for writing.
I mean, she's not wrong - it's been clear to everyone here that this small wedge of wood she calls a "DASK" isn't fit for purpose, especially now she's bought a giant iMac she didn't need to take up the entire space.
At this point, anyone with even a sliver of sense would go to Ikea or a used furniture place or somewhere to find a suitable desk and office chair if they'd just committed themselves to a year of deskbound writing.
Anyone else in Ruby's position would move into the house she bought for herself and utilise one of the many rooms there for a dedicated office. Or as a backup, why not put a desk in one of the dozen or so disused living rooms gathering dust in her family home and use that as a workspace?
Nah, Ruby's solution is to just take the battered old child's school desk "from CHARLDHOOD" that she had stored in the house and shove that in a cramped corner of her room, completely blocking the door so she presumably has to leave through the window now. Her new view while writing will be a blank wall with some stars hung on in - a bit of subliminal encouragement to try to help her believe that she's a gifted child star and not a rapidly aging moron with the mental capacity of a woodlouse.
Like everything she owns, this desk is full of dirt and mold.
There appears to be demonic black ectoplasm oozing out of it, and the sinister scrawl of some tormented soul has been etched into the desk's insides. Presumably this desk contains the trapped soul of some Victorian orphan, forever to remain inside until someone can read their cryptic message and free them from this eternal prison. Unfortunately, Ruby won't read anything longer than a dozen words, so it's endless desk-bound purgatory for that poor child's soul.
Instead of cleaning the desk in any way, she just filled it back up with redundant junk and childish nonsense, like her Matilda pencil case.
She then reminds everyone once again that she's a colossal idiot. Much as she might love to pretend she's the queen of organisation, planning and routine, she does nothing but fill her time with redundant, time-wasting busywork. That's as true in physical spaces as it is in all her digital planners and to-do lists.
She pulls out a "wroiyting slyope" in which she stores all of her letter-writing supplies. She rambles about how much she loves it and points out that it's "the PARFACT SARFASS FOR WROIYTING when you're out and about". Ruby never goes out anywhere, so I'm not sure how that's a selling point for her, or who in their right mind would be lugging this hefty case-full of crap around on a day out like, "Hold on, just gotta make sure I don't forget my keys, my phone and my back-breaking antique suitcase full of never-to-be-used notebooks - I'd be lost without that!" More importantly though, she notes that "there's a RAST hyarr for your PANS".
Not sure why you'd want to keep kitchenware in with your envelopes, but whatever.
After saying that she'll continue using this "wroyting slyope" in addition to the school desk and her other desk, she just gets right back to the infantile school desk situation.
So...what the fuck was the point in showing this? It's a pointless inclusion, and all is does is show that she has endless amounts of redundant clutter in her room, the whole place is too cramped and full of useless crap, and not only is she not going to consolidate or make space by decluttering, she's going to add more unwieldy shit to her small room. What a dumbass.
She says that her first step to setting up her new writing space is to write a list of all the things she wants to keep in her baby-sized school desk. It quickly becomes clear that either she never writes anything, she's a braindead moron, or both. If she spent as much time writing longhand in books and journals as she claimed, she's already know what her most-used items and supplies are.
She also shows off some more of her writing.
"Everything is languid and
hot - so slow that
you can't hear it, and our
watches become
futile."
Pro tip, Ruby: Spend less time setting up multiple writing spaces and more time giving up on writing and getting a job, because you're not cut out for this in any way. This is complete drivel. Ruby can apparently now only write about the weather. She has no imagination, perspective or experience to draw from, so she exclusively writes about things she sees out her bedroom window, and even then she describes the weather as though it's the viewpoint of some illiterate alien.
She slaps Dance of the Little Swans on for the trillionth time and there's just an endless montage of her clattering about in drawers and banging all the stationery supplies that she never uses around to the point where her narration is inaudible.
She fills her desk up with 95% affectatious bullshit which she'll never use, like feather quills. She says she needs to keep a stockpile of stamps in there, too.
Some of the stamps are themed, and she reads out one with a literary quote on it. Add another word to the utterly endless list of words Ruby can't pronounce or doesn't understand. Sentinel is apparently pronounced "senni-tal" now - update your vocabularies accordingly.
As if she didn't have enough clutter, Ruby keeps saying she's bought additional stuff, like more stationery and this writing organiser, which she'll apparently lug around in addition to her "wroiyting slyope", I guess? She says that this, too, is perfect for when she'll be out and about. She'll apparently need a never-ending supply of writing utensils for when she makes the 10 foot journey to her back yard.
Ruby casually points out that there's so much random bullshit all over her room that some of it had to be stuffed in the back of her toddler-sized chair. Her mother is filming this whole thing, and neither of them stop to consider the sheer stupidity of this entire endeavour or the overwhelming creepiness of this 22-year-old woman trying to recreate her life when she was 11, living in a room with a child's bed, desk and chair, and kiddyish scrapbook decorations that the average 13-year-old would have outgrown.
While she's showing off the latest layer of her childhood regression, Ruby protest that she's really a mature grown-up who likes to go to libraries and coffee shops to write. Ruby hasn't shown herself in a coffee shop since she left uni. She spent the entirety of university avoiding the library. She goes nowhere and the sum total of her writing this year is a few incoherent poems.
But Ruby also has to keep pretending she goes out in public all the time because this video is sponsored by "Nyord V.P. Anne"! So, naturally, Ruby can't talk about VPN services without pretending she uses one in coffee shops. She couldn't even be bothered to go to the nearest coffee shop just to get a few minutes of footage of her using her laptop in public.
Ruby says she's been using NordVPN for over a year, as though she's a long-standing happy customer. She refuses to clarify that she's technically been using it for over a year only because that's how long they've been sponsoring her. She doesn't use the service outside sponsored videos and has never mentioned or shown herself doing so. It's all a complete mess of lies and stupidity. Ruby claims she's created a bulky portable writing setup for on-the-go literary sessions, but then says she'd be taking her laptop, too, because she has to advertise the sponsor. She's a stupid, deceitful little toad.
And if I worked at NordVPN and had paid Ruby for this video, I'd want my money back. As always, it's so sloppily filmed and edited. The sponsored section is almost entirely garbled with choppily-edited partial sentences. Thanks to her fake accent, weird cadence and her rushed, mush-mouthed slurred speech, it's all a complete mess. She announces that viewers can uses a code if they want to "styart yoosing Nyord V.P. Anne Tyoo!" and her inflection makes it sound like it's "Nord VPN 2: The Sequel to NordVPN".
I went back switched on subtitles at this point, and they came to the same conclusion I did.
And then she completely butchers the sponsor name somehow and just doesn't bother with a second take.
That subtitle is entirely accurate. This brain-addled dipshit actually calls it GeorgeVPN. No second takes. No second brain cells, either - she's maxed out at one.
Back to the infantile desk fiasco, Ruby opens up her shrine to her childhood and says she wanted to put a scroll with her goals for the year inside.
Remember, Ruby uses all her own products and to-do lists, and they're all designed by her from the ground up to suit her needs, so she never has to do things like make goal scrolls out of scrap paper. Ruby couldn't figure out how to get the scroll to...scroll, so she gives up on the whole thing immediately rather than try a little hard, workshop ideas or even research ideas. Improvement isn't part of Ruby's toolset and if she can't be rewarded instantly, she isn't interested.
Instead, she just bolts a gigantic fucking laundry peg to the underside of her desk lid, because it wasn't cluttered with enough cumbersome crap already. And of course, she shills some Ponkin' Poddocktivtea products that nobody's buying.
Her fake Emma Watson accent goes into overdrive as she mentions that they had a "A SPAAH CHAAH DOWNSTAAHS", which she immediately slams against the wardrobe.
Rubert the Barely Literate says that her parents said that she could put it in her room. This is Ruby's childhood chair/desk. Nobody else is going to want it. Nobody else is stupid enough to try sitting on this regularly as an adult. Why the fuck is Ruby seeking permission from mummy and daddy how to decorate her room, other than as yet another desperate and pathetic way that she gets to feel like a child again?
She inadvertently pokes holes in more of her own lies as she claims that she'll use the back of her chair to store many "nyotebocks"...including the travel notebook that she'll use when she's "out on the gyo". Y'know, the thing that belongs in that travel writing organiser thing she was just pretending she'll use.
Sooo...every time Ruby goes on an imaginary outing, she's got like seventeen different hefty stashes of crap she expects people to believe she's taking? Yeah, I'm not buying it, Rubes.
Ruby's back at her iMac in her destroyed armchair, and somehow this spine-mangling, eye-straining setup is now the second worst seating situation in Ruby's room. She has yet to explain why she decided not to get anything resembling a comfortable chair designed for adults. I mean, it's obvious why, but I'd love to hear Ruby's excuse.
She takes a break from destroying her eyesight and vertebrae to "rearrange the Pode-aroid pictures". Pode-aroid.
For some reason she then starts unpacking even more clutter, pulling her moldy steamer trunk from under her bed. It's a flimsy excuse to shoehorn in another undeclared ad for snack bars which she keeps in there.
In case this video weren't a creepy enough reminder of her childhood fixation, she reveals that she keeps a stockpile of photos of young children under her bed, because that's not terrifying or anything.
After shining a massive light on just how cramped and cluttered her room is and how much worse she's made the situation, she gleefully announces that she's ordered even more shit from "AT-Sea". Ruby disingenuously virtue-signals that she always tries to support small businesses when we know she always goes out of her way to avoid showing any support for independent shops. She refuses to name independent shops she might visit in Instagram posts to provide them with much-needed advertising and instead desperately mentions Waterstones as much as she can to chase a sponsorship.
So did she finally see sense and order an office chair and a proper desk? Nope.
Dumbass claims she needs an antique letter organiser. Y'know, to organise all those letters that nobody sends her. "JANUINELY, THIS IS PARRFACT."
Naturally, she mentions that it's VARRY EXPANSIVE, as though £30 isn't just pocket change to her.
JUST BUY A FUCKING PROPER DESK AND CHAIR ALREADY, RUBY.
You can even get ones that suit the Dark Academia aesthetic that you keep claiming to love. You have all the money in the world to buy a gorgeous, spacious vintage mahogany or walnut desk and a nice ergonomic leather-look or Chesterfield-style office chair to match. But, of course, those are things an adult would use, so Ruby wants no part of it. Next she'll decide her bed is too grown up and buy a vintage rocking crib to sleep in.
Moving on to the "finishing TOTCHES" and Ruby decided that there weren't enough fire hazards in her room already so she sets a candle up where it'll immediately set her whole fucking wall ablaze. And then there's a child's initial coaster, because apparently Etsy were fresh out of these:
Even though Ruby has ink pots aplenty, she decides to also fill the inkwell in her battered and moldy desk, which is 100% going to leak and wreck everything inside. And after all the talk of this being a desk for writing in "nyotebocks" and "latters", Ruby just goes ahead and dumps a fucking great big typewriter on it and then awkwardly stabs at random keys like a toddler let loose in her parent's office. She is never going to use this thing.
Yeah...this is definitely going to end well...
(Reminder: Her mother is the one filming this. Neither one of these braindead fuckwits sees the obvious problem with setting fires close to flammable materials.)
Ruby again points out that she now has two desks in her room - one has her computer and the other is this shrine to primary school blocking her doorway. She practically drops all pretence of this being a practical decision that can be explained rationally and just says it's "a step back in toime, which is rilly noice." Again, her mother doesn't point out how unhealthy any of this insanity is.
She rambles on about how wonderful her "DASK" is and the "poldaroids" and all the infantile bullshit she's assembled, all the while she's wildly gesticulating with her hands, waving her arm about and nearly knocking the fucking candle over.
Ruby's rambling again, but then there's a random cutaway and presumably her mum grew a brain cell and told Ruby to remove the candle off-camera, because it cuts back and Ruby's sheepishly relocating the candle to her other desk.
Reminder: It's broad daylight and it's an unscented candle - there's no need to be lighting them at all, especially if you're Ruby and have zero mental faculties, hand-eye coordination or attention span.
She shows the inside of the desk again and just repeats all the stuff she already said earlier in the video. This was obviously filmed across multiple days for some reason as evidenced by the 257 outfit changes, so Ruby evidently didn't bother checking any footage and just repeated a bunch of stuff.
She points out that she also has a travel pencil case for if she goes "out and about". So that's another pack of redundant crap she expects people to believe she takes with her on these imaginary trips outdoors.
(Ruby apparently going "out and about".)
She also points out an "Ed Grallenpo" notebook that she keeps in her desk, full of handwriting by "Ed Grallenpo". I assume this is one of Ruby's neighbours or childhood teachers. I wonder if he knows his handwriting is a lot like Edgar Allen Poe's.
By this point I started to picture a look of dawning realisation and utter dread on Mother Granger's face as she filmed her daughter gleefully rattling off a list of all her favourite things like a small child showing off their room on their very first playdate, after having adorned her room with pictures of small children and turning her entire room into a creepy cocoon of infantilised insanity. If I were a parent and saw this happening with my 22-year-old child, I'd borrow some of that stationery to start sending out invites to her intervention. This is complete lunacy.
Ruby caps off the video by insisting that this is all "VARRY LATTER-WRITING FYOCUSED". It just comes off as desperate deflection to avoid acknowledging that she's making zero progress writing (or in general) since leaving uni and just wants to be a child again, so she's gone even further in her crusade to turn her room into a time capsule of childhood regression. Mother Granger had better start wearing jeans at all times, because at this rate, Ruby's probably going to try to climb back into the womb.
gossip_guy
VIP Member
Oversized jumper paired with culotte trousers (or "kyoooo-lots" in Rubyspeak), brown boots and a random oversized scrunchie on her wrist the same colour as her sleeves.
It's just a fashion disaster.
Speaking of Rubyspeak:
Ahh, yes, everyone's accent naturally changes from their normal accent to some improvisational jazz version of human speech filtered through the vocal stylings of fictional children throughout the day. I often ping-pong back and forth between sounding like Queen Elizabeth and Danny Dyer. It just happens, everyone does it.
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gossip_guy
VIP Member
Today's best Rubyism: "A custard tard" = "Accoster tart".
I think we've found Ruby's alt account.
Praise be unto Jesus and deliver unto him 6 of your discounted washi tapes.
I think we've found Ruby's alt account.
Praise be unto Jesus and deliver unto him 6 of your discounted washi tapes.
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gossip_guy
VIP Member
Congrats on the healthy delivery of Philomena Erimentha Lottie Scapier into the world!
gossip_guy
VIP Member
It's probably down to the fact that she thinks office chairs won't fit the fake aesthetic she's cultivated.
She could get any number of chairs with good back support and height adjustment that fit the Dark Macademia style she claims she loves.
Those are a bit too grown up for her, though, so she'll probably get one of these:
gossip_guy
VIP Member
Throwback to that time when Ruby did a hilariously bad job of convincing people that she knows how to play chess:
"We only ever play chess in the evenings, that's why I don't know how to set up a chess board in the daytime. Syo ass-thatic!"
She plays chess so often that she had to recycle photos from a year ago for her new chess story.
Ruby needs to stop generalising, "summer is of course the time when we have more time than we do any other time of the year". Do WE??? I suppose she's saying that because summer is holiday season but again she's following the structure of the academic year as if it applies to everyone - even though it doesn't apply to her anymore.
Griftwood
VIP Member
Thanks @braginskayas for the thread title!
Recap: Ruby graduated with a first from Exeter, putting her firmly in the top 50 % of students
She’s all set to spend the rest of her life this year regressing into childhood working on bEcOmInG a wROyTeR and getting a book deal. Grab a cup of Bard and Bland, get cosy in your torn-to-shreds armchair with a blanket, and follow Roobee as she becomes 7 again!
Recap: Ruby graduated with a first from Exeter, putting her firmly in the top 50 % of students
She’s all set to spend gossip_guy
VIP Member
Don't forget your to-do list for your Slow-Living Slow Labour Night Routine (Very Productive)!
rubysdeadfly
Chatty Member
Obsessed with ruby saying “my favourite wheat field has already been harvested” ok Theresa May
Also when she said she can already feel autumn coming…girl it’s 30 bastard degrees wtf do you mean you can feel autumn arriving
Also when she said she can already feel autumn coming…girl it’s 30 bastard degrees wtf do you mean you can feel autumn arriving
I've been lurking here for a bit and this moved me to register and reply...I agree wholeheartedly. I think Ruby's parents have a LOT to do with this. I haven't considered that maybe they like having Ruby at home, but it's certainly possible. If Ruby's in a state of arrested development, her parents seem to be in one, too. I mean, look at that house. It's yawningly empty when it comes to furniture, and the biggest room in it (that ballroom with the fancy fireplace) is full of grown-up toys: the drum kit, the foosball table, the phonograph player...wasn't there also a jukebox at some point? And then you go outside, and it's more playtime: a chicken petting zoo (have we ever seen an egg come out of there?). A skateboarding halfpipe. That weirdly furnished lean-to that looks like a stoners' clubhouse.
Ruby's parents strike me as the kind of rich people who like to see themselves as "cool" rich people. And part of that is an affluent negligence...they're cool, y'know, they're not into "things." That's why Ruby's dad shuffles around looking like he's living on the streets. That's why they have a beautiful house but they visibly don't take care of it or even *hire* someone to take care of it. Hell, they've barely even furnished it (there's nothing snug about that "snug!"). Last week's "English countryside" video was ghastly. Everything in that backyard looked like it was rotting away, there were empty wine and beer bottles lying around, and clothes or a towel just discarded on the grass...so depressing. I get the feeling they actually take pride in living that way...i.e., being rich but not caring about their "stuff" like some prissy old bluebloods or bourgeois wannabes. But really, they're just lazy slobs.
If they apply the same attitude to parenting, it makes sense that they don't think anything's wrong with their kids. They're too cool to pressure their kids into some demanding career! Let them find their own way! That sounds nice in theory but kids need direction, and boundaries, and goal-setting, and it doesn't seem like either Ruby or her sister got them when they were growing up. So Martha is rebelling in a more traditional way: dropping out of uni, experimenting with her looks all the time, etc. And Ruby, well...maybe Ruby latched onto the whole Hermione Granger thing when she was younger because she was yearning for some kind of structure. She wasn't getting any from her parents, so she made it up for herself, and made up a rigid little identity, too: High-Achieving Bookworm Study Enthusiast. And now she's 22 years old, there's no studying left to be done, and she doesn't know how to reinvent herself OR her brand. She's just floundering, wandering around in her nightgown, producing awful, weird, almost disturbing content. Meanwhile, her cool, faux-hippie parents are obliviously living their best life. This will not end well.
gossip_guy
VIP Member
I've decided that perhaps criticising Ruby for her endless stupidity, greed and lies isn't the kindest approach, and so I've chosen to try to be a bit more understanding of her strange customs. To that end, today I got dressed in the dustiest, most wrinkled and mismatched outfit I could find that wasn't weather-appropriate and zipped out to buy a book based on Ruby's latest TikTok recommendation.
The first hurdle was finding a book shop. I could find plenty of independent book shops, but since I'd committed to being more like Ruby in an effort to walk a mile in her shoes, this simply would not do. There were no Waterstones around, and naturally I couldn't be seen anywhere else, so I had to travel 25 miles to the nearest retail outlet owned by James Daunt.
With the first hurdle overcome, it was time to get my hands on the book. Today's TikTok recommendation is "We Were Wolves". They didn't have that, but Ruby mentions that it reminded her of "Amunsta Quorls". They didn't have that, either, and the tired and beleaguered shopkeep was adamant that such a book has never existed. After 45 minutes of trying to convince him that he must be wrong, because Ruby said it clearly in her video (which I showed him several times), the lone retail employee sighed loudly, took off his name badge, tossed it on the counter, stormed out the door and never came back. I assume he went on a 2.5 hour (and counting) lunch break. James Daunt is truly a king among men to allow his employees such liberal breaks.
With no sign of the book and no employees around to help, instead I just grabbed the closest books I could find: A non-fiction book on Munster cheese and several pop-up books with a maximum reading age of 4.
The shop counter had a charity collection jar, so with nobody around, I asked myself, "What would Ruby do?" Naturally, I took this money to reinvest it elsewhere. Since "Amunsta Quorls" sounds like a new snack product for kids, I just reinvested the charity money in some Monster Munch, a pack of Quavers and a Kinder Surprise from the nearest Waitrose. I read the Monster Munch packet on the way home and it was acksquisite - so ethereal and with such AXE-allant varbiage. I would rackomand it to ANYONE. I haven't read the Quavers packet yet, but I'm very excited for it as the yellow and oranges colours gives VARRY autominal vibes.
In conclusion, living life without regard for morality, decorum or responsibility is quite a freeing experience, but I'm not sure I can cope with the itchiness of wearing dust-covered clothes plucked straight from the attic for more than a day.
The first hurdle was finding a book shop. I could find plenty of independent book shops, but since I'd committed to being more like Ruby in an effort to walk a mile in her shoes, this simply would not do. There were no Waterstones around, and naturally I couldn't be seen anywhere else, so I had to travel 25 miles to the nearest retail outlet owned by James Daunt.
With the first hurdle overcome, it was time to get my hands on the book. Today's TikTok recommendation is "We Were Wolves". They didn't have that, but Ruby mentions that it reminded her of "Amunsta Quorls". They didn't have that, either, and the tired and beleaguered shopkeep was adamant that such a book has never existed. After 45 minutes of trying to convince him that he must be wrong, because Ruby said it clearly in her video (which I showed him several times), the lone retail employee sighed loudly, took off his name badge, tossed it on the counter, stormed out the door and never came back. I assume he went on a 2.5 hour (and counting) lunch break. James Daunt is truly a king among men to allow his employees such liberal breaks.
With no sign of the book and no employees around to help, instead I just grabbed the closest books I could find: A non-fiction book on Munster cheese and several pop-up books with a maximum reading age of 4.
The shop counter had a charity collection jar, so with nobody around, I asked myself, "What would Ruby do?" Naturally, I took this money to reinvest it elsewhere. Since "Amunsta Quorls" sounds like a new snack product for kids, I just reinvested the charity money in some Monster Munch, a pack of Quavers and a Kinder Surprise from the nearest Waitrose. I read the Monster Munch packet on the way home and it was acksquisite - so ethereal and with such AXE-allant varbiage. I would rackomand it to ANYONE. I haven't read the Quavers packet yet, but I'm very excited for it as the yellow and oranges colours gives VARRY autominal vibes.
In conclusion, living life without regard for morality, decorum or responsibility is quite a freeing experience, but I'm not sure I can cope with the itchiness of wearing dust-covered clothes plucked straight from the attic for more than a day.
karpusha
Member
"Syo true and akshully scahrry!!" says the woman-child who has never had to consider cost of living ever. She'll be doing a sponsorship for British Gas within the month.