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.