This One’s For You, Blue

March 4, 2021 12:29pm Published by Jules Smith in Whimsy On A Wednesday 12 Comments

Whimsy On A Wednesday On A Thursday!

Cos to be honest I don’t really know what day it is anymore. 

The fucking bitch played her last card as far as I was concerned and now all I had to do was think of how I was going to kill her.  Was the start of the new novel I intended to write but came to the conclusion it was a little dark. Dark? Yes. Isn’t it. The last time I brought a book out I released it on the eve of Pandemic Meltdown. The Meaning of Life cunningly usurped by the powers that be by giving everyone the fear. What’s the last thing you want to read about when your life has no meaning? Right. Let’s get wholly depressed about finding the meaning of life when we can’t bloody go anywhere and daren’t breathe in or out or hug your grandma. 

To Bread Or Not to Bread?

During this whole ordeal, I have found writing a struggle. Not even a poxy blog post can I manage. Well, I mean come on, what have I got to talk about?  I’m used to adventuring and being a nightmare in some other country and having a go at something I probably shouldn’t be. Where’s the whimsy in staying in and learning to bake fancy artisan bread? 

True Blue

So, my blogger friend, Blue asked how I was going on a scale of A-F. Naturally, I said F because it connotes all manner of fuckwittery and he knew I’d say that. However, to be fair I have ridden the line rather extremely as you might imagine. In one moment I can be accepting of this prison where we presently reside and try to look at it as a life lesson: how to be zen and thoughtful. How to learn to live with the basics. How to treasure those important to us when they aren’t around. How to make flowery bread. How to be at one with nature. All that kind of malarkey. But to be honest it’s not for me. I’m honestly sick to death of walking in nature now. I want to go somewhere different.  I’m never going to make it as a Buddhist monk or be able to retire contently. I’m a doing person.

It’s A Wrap

On the other extreme, I have re-modelled my house, got stuff fixed, and started a new business in gift-wrap. Having lost my job due to the companies I worked for going into a cash-flow crisis (thank you Corona) I decided I wanted a present-wrapping room. Hugh Hefner had one so I want one. I’m up to my neck in ribbons and bows and paper and all manner of beautiful things that I now have to process and put online. I don’t like that bit at all. I’ve also decided that I want to become an Instagram influencer because I find that whole concept thoroughly disturbing and vacuous. So, I want to make a point by making videos on how to wrap presents in ridiculous or novel ways. It’s a fanciful goal. I may crash and burn or I may become a famous papery princess. Oi! Have a little faith! Let’s see how it goes.

Field Of Dreams

I also decided that I want my own field so I took it upon myself to write to all the farmers near me and ask for one. Farmers don’t tend to want to give away their fields as they have the potential of becoming valuable building land on this little island. However, I persisted and met up with a willing farmer yesterday who may be giving me a few acres to play with. I know I just said I’m a bit sick of nature but this is different. I want to be able to go to my own place with my own people and not have to deal with someone being scared of my big dogs or having to deal with all and sundry that have taken up jogging, cycling, walking, bird watching, loitering and being totally annoying in the local country parks. I want my own space even though I’m sick of the two-metre rule. It’s a dilemma, isn’t it? I swear this ordeal has made me a bit strange. Anyway, I think a field of dreams will be great and I’ll be thoroughly into it right up until I have to mow the grass. 

There’s a Science to It

In other news, an infamous blogger friend of mine has asked me to collaborate with their awesome science -fiction book. You might wonder why on earth they asked me but if you ask another blogger friend of mine, Masher, he’ll tell you that I’m really good at sci-fi.  No, it’s not his book but I’m deliberately confusing. I’m getting really involved with my character and the part they play in this captivating novel-to-be and I think this might be just the thing I need to get me back on track to writing more books. The only other thing I’ve managed to write during this lockdown is stories about monsters for children because that’s about my current level.  I’ve invented 4 monsters with stories which has definitely helped me not to become one.

And that’s me up to date, kids. 

 

Let’s Be Black & White About It

January 28, 2021 2:54pm Published by Jules Smith in The Art Philosopher 15 Comments

Satirical Snapshots Forgetting Whimsy On A Wednesday And Bringing You Art Philosophy On A Thursday!

Because there really isn’t any whimsy going on right now, ya know? Instead, I decided to bring you photos that I feel match the current climate. I’ll have you know I was outside in my Jim-Jams taking photos of crows yesterday. You’re welcome!

And the crow once called the raven black.

I am rather fond of these birds. I wouldn’t mind a pet crow/raven. Wolfits would probably eat it though.  And Kevin would hate it.

Corvid 30? Oh, come on…

Let’s move on to pigeons…

News. That’s all we have at the minute, innit.

And time to reflect.

Or get hammered.

 

And sit in the park…

…remembering the good old days.

 

Brew and Bellow

January 20, 2021 7:59am Published by Jules Smith in Whimsy On A Wednesday 16 Comments

Satirical Snapshots Bringing You Whimsy On A Wednesday!

I have bought two interesting things so far this year. 

The first was the sensible purchase of a Nutribullet juicer/blender to facilitate my journey to health and vitality. 

Once it had arrived I went to the supermarket to buy an array of fruits, fat-free yoghurt, and spinach. Apparently, you can put spinach in smoothies. And kale. I just went for spinach because…baby steps. 

How pretty does this look?

And then this happened.

 

My colourful crowd of fruit mixed into something that looked like a bushtucker trial on “I’m A Celebrity Get Me Out Of Here” And if it goes in looking like that then what the hell does it come out looking like? 

Tentatively, I sipped the sludge-like liquid and was pleasantly surprised! Don’t judge a smoothie by its shitty appearance.

I got better at it…

And then I got distracted by making healthy cocktails when I found out this thing can crush ice. 

Juice and Jangle

And then, it all went horribly wrong. I got a bit blasé you see. Look at me, the smoothie queen and cocktail consort!  One finger on the pulse and a thumb on high power. Blend away!  What can I get you? Name your passion, fruit!

Cocky, some call it. 

This thing has a small lid within its lid so you can add things or mix them with the big stick it comes with without taking the full lid off. During a recent lunchtime smoothie, I decided that the brew needed something sweet cos some of these ingredients can’t half make your tabs laugh with their tartness. In a rush to get my nutrients I heaped up a teaspoon of honey and removed the mini lid to drop it in. Whilst it was still on. Whizzing away on full fruity power. 

I dropped the bloody spoon inside. 

There was an incredible racket, a juddering of equipment, and red berry sauce exploded all over the sodding kitchen. My new, freshly painted in crisp white, kitchen now sporting burgundy polka dots and wound style slashes on the ceiling. The stuff was absolutely everywhere. Dripping defiantly from the cabinets. 

Bugger.

When I retrieved the spoon it had chunks of metal missing which meant I couldn’t drink my smoothie.

The blade was somewhat dinted and I thought my fruity days were over and I’d be back on chocolate oranges. However, despite its spoony punishment, the bullet continues to perform. 

Still, the whole ordeal put me in a bit of a mood and screwed about with my biorhythms. Lacking in vitamins and fibre and all shook up by the event I made the mistake of my second purchase.

The Megaphone

Why haven’t I got one of these, I wondered to myself illogically. The days are so long in this house in Covid gaol and a megaphone could bring an awful lot of fun. I’d be able to torment the runners as they passed on my street. They’re bound to run faster with a torrent of abuse being hurled after them so I’d actually be helping with their fitness goals. 

I hop-skipped onto Amazon to have a gander and as soon as I saw that it came with a siren I couldn’t help but click “Buy Now” 

I could go out in my truck and pretend to be “Mask Police” and put the sirens on if I saw anyone flouting the rules. “ON WITH YOUR MASK OR I WILL RELEASE THE HOUNDS” Heh. 

I could make up new and ridiculous rules and yell them from the car, or demand people go home immediately due to a new and virulent strain of idiocy. 

When my megaphone arrived I found that they’d made the handle into a nifty bottle opener. Ooh!  So now I can drink and shout things at the same time! What could possibly go wrong with that?

And then I had an even better idea. I found an app on my phone that makes gunshot sounds.

 

Amplified through my megaphone, I think I just found myself a new car horn!

This might just be the year that I get arrested. 

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