Someone Call Whimsy And Apologise!

May 25, 2018 3:52pm Published by Jules Smith in Off Piste Posting (Any day thoughts) 30 Comments

Cranky Pants

Satirical Snapshots Bringing You Frustration On A Friday!

Sometimes it’s good for me to keep you lot on your toes so you don’t go expecting the usual. 

Unfortunately, there was no Whimsy this Wednesday due to the fact that Whimsy left the building, slammed the door and filed for divorce. 

“Go on, leave! Good riddance! I couldn’t stand your controlling ways anyhow! See if I care!  I’ve met someone new called Frustration and I’m meeting him on Friday!” 

Utterly Atrocious

May have actually been the reason that whimsy left me. I had a proper midweek strop on. Usually, I can work through these bouts of toddler rage and oftentimes they make whimsy what it is.  However, I had just been suffering from a five day headache.  I’ve never experienced such a thing in all my life. It was on one side of my head lingering from the temple to the back of my left eye.  Kind of like brain freeze but without the luxury of cookie dough dynamo ice cream being the cause.  

The doc sent me to the eye people to check to see if I had a brain.  I’m not a fan of eye people.  Mostly because I really don’t want to discuss the photograph that makes me want to vomit because I never realised my eyes actually looked liked veiny, orange ping-pong balls. 

Verdict: Too much screenery and not enough scenery.  Stay off computers and rest your eyes or suffer everlasting migraine. 

I went back home, made a coffee and got back to work.

The thing is, when you work for yourself, you can’t just off on a jolly with a headache.  Things need constant attention. 

Talking of attention…

leads me nicely onto my next rant about Instagram. Having an Instagram account (as I have) for a personal reason is easy. You post pictures as and when you want to and folks come and follow you or not and there’s no pressure. Having an Instagram account for a business is a totally different ball game.

There are rules. 

Instagram has turned into the biggest social media platform – especially for business. You have to post consistently, be entertaining, call to action, develop #funkyhashtags, follow other people in your niche market and try to develop a following.  VERY difficult. Because mostly, the people who follow you are also businesses.

And this is what they do:

Follow you. (Ah, how sweet)

You follow back. (Polite, supportive and community building)

They wait a while until they think you won’t notice and unfollow you. (RUDE)

This pisses me off beyond belief. It just goes to show how driven people are just to get “likes” and build up their little emporium with total unashamed disregard for anyone. False, fickle and…I’m trying to think of something else beginning with F because I have alliteration addiction but it’s too rude. 

Because this infuriates me way beyond a level it should, I have an app that tells me who has done this. Every day I go on it and find the culprits. I then go to their feed, like every single one of their pictures so that I am seen on all of them and then unfollow them back.  I know that this is totally childish but I don’t care. I am turning into the Judge Dredd of Instagram. 

Secondly, it is apparently VITAL that you follow celebrities and fawn all over them with heart eyed emojis and high school girl talk. Cue projectile vomit. I tried it for a day and it made me poorly.  Granted, if Kim Kardashian picks up a piece of my merchandise or reads one of my books I’m set for life but do I really want to sell my soul to achieve that? No. Not playing by Instagram rules anymore. Soz.

A Bit of Divine Assistance

Being totally at odds with the fickle ways of the modern world, I decided to go to church on Sunday. This helps me rebalance, become humbled after the barrage of narcissism I am subjected to and stops me wanting to throttle everyone. 

However, I’m not quite down with High Church cos it ain’t like Texas Cowboy Church where people welcome you with hugs and doughnuts, a good sense of humour and accept you no matter your never-ending flaws.  This particular church, I sometimes frequent when in need of moral guidance, has a lady in it that does my head in.  I know her from somewhere in my past though I can’t remember where.  All I know is that it’s unpleasant.  

There’s a part in the service called “The Peace” where everyone shakes each other’s hand and says, “Peace be with you”.  I’m a very awkward person and find this part of the service staggeringly difficult.  I always want to say something ridiculous.  But, every time I put my hand out to this woman she ignores me and greets someone else instead, coming to me in her own good time and clearly under duress.

Well, guess what that does to my peace? It sends it flying right out of the stained glass window. 

So, that went well.

Animal Instinct

Not relying on my own instincts I went to have a chat with Kevin. 

Uromastyx on hand

He didn’t care.  

Nor did the dog.

Dog hiding in bed

Hang on Stroopy, Stroopy Hang On!

With both people and animals out of the question in my search for harmony, I resorted to a new packet of biscuits that had found a way into my house. 

RESULT!

Stroop biscuit

This, my friends, is called a Stroop biscuit and it is heaven sent. How I have got to this tender age without putting one of these in my mouth is outrageous.  This should be a Dutch National Treasure. 

But, like most things, this was just a passing relief and did not sedate the torrent of atrociousness growing inside me. Take an o out of Stroop and what have you got? 

Strop, I Want To Get Off!

Maybe it was too much sugar, maybe it was the lady at church, maybe it was Kim Kardashian, I don’t know but I had to forcibly make myself go outside and have a big calm down.  I sat there looking at the flowers thinking, “Right that’s it, I’m done. I’m shutting it all down and starting anew. All this effort for such little reward. Had enough. Even whimsy has left me.”

Yes, people, I nearly pressed the big red button. But just as I was sitting there formulating a plan where I run off in just my jeans and boots, committing to nothing but the moment, an email came through.

“Where’s whimsy?  I miss it?”

and another….

“I don’t think my link is working….”

And another…

“Can I take part in your new book?” 

Wow. Talk about perfect timing.

Are you lot stalking me or something? 😉 

30 Comments

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Now you have had your Friday Fulmination…..you really need whimsy back,I look forward to it and as soon I have read it I know that we are nearer to the weekend…so come on get yourself together my lovely and crack on!

As if I’d dare to ruin the gorgeous “Mogel’s” weekends! I’m on it, flower pot xx

I recognise this stroppy inner child. It’s the one who walked into the tree because she couldn’t have chocolate before dinner. And it’s the one that fell through the floor boards after being told not to go down that end of the room. Thought she’d gone but apparently not! Did you not resort to large quantities of gin that always works for me. It gave us an amusing blogs though

I don’t know what you mean! I was a DELIGHTFUL child. As you mentioned last week, even millionaire Swedes wanted to play with me! Anyway, the most interesting people are temperamental. 😉

Lynne ( may I call you Lynne ?) Oh how I long to ply you with drink and hear the stories of Young ( and old ) Julesy !
Perhaps you could just whisper 1 or 2 embarrassing tales to me now that I could use as ammo for the next time she verbally assaults me ? I promise to keep the source quiet. 😉

Do NOT tell him a single thing!!!!

Jules, I don’t blame you. The Peace is endlessly annoying.

There was a grand old lady at St. Mary’s NYC (just off Times Square) who would beat at people with her silver topped cane when they attempted the then new fangled “peace.”

In the Middle Ages they passed around a stylised piece of bread at tbe Peace, the Pax Bread. Sometimes precious metal, sometimes clay, whatever.

This touching ritual was banned in England after people started attacking each other with the Pax Bread.

You can imagine the scene.

LSP, I don’t like it. It makes me feel very awkward and I want to say “Mushy Peas” or other such ludicrous things.

I love that story! Hitting people with canes makes them “feel” something.

Only in England. And this is why you can’t let people have guns here!

1. Who computers would destroy – they will first drive mad.

2. Social networks aren’t very social. People are mean and that is amplified by those networks.

3. Listen to Kevin’s counsel. Wait for it… which means that you need to clear your mind of everything at least once a day.

4. Beating people with a cane (see LSP above) will reduce stress.

1: Already mad.

2: I will STOP their meanness.

3: I shall take this advice. Kevin is also the new Yoda.

4: I’m in favour of this. Kevin concurs.

Kevin knows things, and when he is as big as Godzilla, he will crush his enemies the way that he crushes peas today.

Haha! Yes he will! He’s in practice!
Kevin likes your loyalty, LL

Coffee and cake are essential in the quest for whimsy! Oh wait…..

See! You come along JUST at the right time! You’re mystical magik, you are!

Jules, this was just whimsy on a Friday! Don’t give up, or we will all go mad!

I might also make you madder by continuing, Jane. Have you considered this? 😉

everytime I look down at that eye chart I see ladies progressively undressing. the doctor told me I was crazy and he wasn’t a pervert and gave me some cookie dough on the way out to mollify me, which were really just unbaked cookies.

I never understood the stealthy-unfollow thing. i only unfollow cos i’ve reached the 7500 follows limit. that’s happened to me. it made me more depressed cos the unfollower was an actual ninja…

Kim K DM’d me and told me she liked your book. but how do you know it’s really Kim K? it’s probably her assistant.

peace be with you: just think of it as the Goodnights after every Saturday Night Live. where the cast and guest host sit around the stage hugging each other and the musical guest and everyone else over jazz music. first signaling if you want a hug cos you’re not always sure. it’s meant to be awkward, cos love is hard…

i was in contention for Dutch National Treasure but they found out i was only half-Dutch and tiring of orange juice so they gave it to some speedskater.

*)

I love cookie dough. I’m going to your eye doctor, my sweet.

That unfollow thing drives me mad. What shallow, mean people. I have some very nice people on there too, proper folk. I’m not fawning or bowing down to anyone. Play nice or jog on!

Kim loves everything I do, she has total JuJu envy. I saw it in her eyes.

Peace be with you *)

Maybe the dragon farts gave you a headache. Have you considered Kevin?

Glad you are on the mend.

My dragon does not pass wind, Nox! He passes fire and wisdom. One day he will rule the world!

Thank you 🙂

I think your problems can be traced back to what you refer to as a “biscuit”.
I know biscuits Madam, and THAT is no biscuit !

Look here, mucker! Biscuits were this side of the pond FIRST! That there Stroop would be proper nice in some of your American ice cream but you lot would probably put bacon on it! SMH 😉

Oh REALLY ? Pfffftt !
Seems to me ‘twern’t long ago you were craving a can of our wonderful ‘Mercun Pillsbury Grands !
Bacon on one of OUR biscuits would be quite a treat. However I’m afraid your pitiful excuse for one just won’t hold gravy.

I think the issue here, PPS, is your bastardisation of our fabulous language. Biscuit is sweet; savoury scone would be more fitting for your Pillsbury Grands. And yes, that beauty is a winner with bacon on but a Stroop is not. Now get the kettle on and make a nice cup of hot tea!

Yes.

HA! Please don’t boil my lizard! 🙂

D’ja hear about the scarecrow who won the Nobel prize?
He was outstanding in his field!

Hahaha!
Bless you, Goatman.

Love the avatar, btw.

You can’t schedule whimsy. Whimsy is a free agent. She comes and goes as she pleases. Try to demand she show up every Wednesday. Just you try.

If I spend too much time on my iPhone, my eyeballs start to throb with pain. I think it’s a message.

Let us offer each other a sign of peace is most unhealthy! Germ city.

Well, whimsy used to stalk me! But, of late, frustration has taken the helm. Seems I must capsize the boat!

Me too. And staring at Instagram feeds throughout the day starts to wear on my eyes. And my mood, patience, temper, etc.

That’s a good point. Like sharing the cup. Not a fan of that either.

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