Jack Monroe #198 Marcus! Marcus! Marcus!

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Oh how I have HOOTED and indeed fizzed at this!
On another note, LJC looks to be having a whale of a time this summer. Looks positively glowing if you ask me. Just imagined Jack singing good 4 u by Olivia Rodrigo.


She seems to have lost some weight, and not just the 10 stone or so that she ditched in Southend. Looks like she’s very outdoorsy and sociable. Complete opposite of Jack.
 
Another verse

I am what I am
When I mess up I have loads of excuses
I gather up hair
I find anywhere, it has lots of uses
It's my life, I was a pov and don't you know it
My life, don't look too close or you might blow it
My food's not worth a damn, so my son shouts out
"Mamapapa I want bread and jam?"

I'll stop now.
 
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A quiet number features Jack sat alone under the spotlight of a second hand lightbulb, picking out a tune on the piano one handed

"Yes I was a pov,
from a certain point of view
house full of Jon Lewis boxes
What's it to you?

Yes I was a pov
With my scary tattoos
Told Davey Cameron how £10 a week
feeds a family of two
 
Another verse

I am what I am
When I mess up I have loads of excuses
I gather up hair
I find anywhere, it has lots of uses
It's my life, I was a pov and don't you know it
My life, don't look too close or you might blow it
My food's not worth a damn, so my son shouts out
"Mamapapa I want bread and jam?"

I'll stop now.
Please carry on 😂it’s like a’mole except I don’t have to think
 
Please don’t - I want the whole song.
All right, two more verses, these to be sung by the cabal, played by chorus boys and girls, who dance in heels around a life size cardboard cut out of Marcus Rashford.

Jack is what she is
Her life is a lie, like a Walter Mitty
We'll keep banging on
We're writing prose, we are all witty
And we'll triangulate all her baubles and her bangles
We all see her, and we know her angles
Her life is a sham and we all shout out
"Jack don't keep doing that scam"

Jack, you are what you are
It's really a shame, it's really a pity
We question your choices
When you say you're 90% vegan, we think that's crappy
And so what if you love corned beef and cheap bangers?
Well that's nowhere near vegan, but there's a profit you can wangle
Your life is a sham till you can shout out
"I hate cheap wet ham"
 
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Another verse

I am what I am
When I mess up I have loads of excuses
I gather up hair
I find anywhere, it has lots of uses
It's my life, I was a pov and don't you know it
My life, don't look too close or you might blow it
My food's not worth a damn, so my son shouts out
"Mamapapa I want bread and jam?"

I'll stop now.
I have a fabulously flamboyant earworm now @MancBee 💃
 
All right, two more verses, these to be sung by the cabal, played by chorus boys and girls, who dance in heels around a life size cardboard cut out of Marcus Rashford.

Jack is what she is
Her life is a lie, like a Walter Mitty
We'll keep banging on
We're writing prose, we are all witty
And we'll triangulate all her baubles and her bangles
We all see her, and we know her angles
Her life is a sham and we all shout out
"Jack don't keep doing that scam"

Jack, you are what you are
It's really a shame, it's really a pity
We question your choices
When you say you're 90% vegan, we think that's crappy
And so what if you love corned beef and cheap bangers?
Well that's nowhere near vegan, but there's a profit you can wangle
Your life is a sham till you can shout out
"I hate cheap wet ham"

I’ll never forget when @traumatised sideboard referred to you as “emerging poet @MancBee ”. You are unstoppable 👏🏻😆👏🏻 I think you’re definitely now, “renowned, acclaimed poet MancBee”.
 
Look at me - a viggle
Waiting for the truth
Are those Linda Macartney
Or from something with a tooth
Graham’s bad at insta
He should lose his job
Cos he really was a nob

I’m waiting.

we are all the viggles
Want some new ideas
Think she’s 90% there
But we’re close to tears
Vegan food looks awful
When she tries to cook
we won’t mention there’s a book

I’m waiting
I’m waiting now

always jackfruit and slop
Always cooked for a day
We’d like texture, something that’s not brown on the tray
the pork belly’s fake
The crackling not found
None of these ingredients came from the ground….

apologies to Stephen Sondheim
 
I might have borrowed from another musical, so sue me...

Second act, Jack is sitting on a pavement, alone with a pocket full of stones...she looks mournful thinking of her past life. She starts to warble...


Midnight, not a Tweet from the hotel
Full moon, I've lost my marbles
I am smirking alone
In the lamplight, the withered hair collects at my feet
And as normal I begin to moan

Memory, I'm alone in the apartment
I can dream of the poverty
Life was miserable then
I remember the time I knew what misery was
Let the misery live again

When they let me Tweet, I seem to greet
Fans that are constantly fawning
The cabal mutters that I can afford butter
And I won't be poor in the morning

Daylight, I must wait for the pay rise
I must think of a new scam
Make the patreons pay
When the dawn comes, tonight will be a memory too
And a new grift will begin
 
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All I want is a mansion somewhere
Five Emins and a MacBook Air
With two sofas and three sideboards there
Oh wouldn't it be luverly?

Lots of Waitrose food for me to eat
A bollock sausage for the kid's one treat
New face, new lips, fugly trainers for me feet
Oh wouldn't it be luverly?

Oh, so luverly sittin' abso-lutely bloomin' still
Join my Pa-tre-on, pay
Two grand a month and all of that time to kill

Someone's head resting on my knee
Rich and dim as she could be
Who takes good care of me
Oh, wouldn't it be luverly

Luverly

Luverly

Luverly

Luverly.
 
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