Satirical Snapshots Bringing You Whimsy On A Wednesday!

Paperback Writer

I’ve sat here for months doing nothing but writing things. No adventures. No parties. Nada. Then all of a sudden the world begins to come out of hiding and I get invited up to Liverpool for a break.

I’m not sure that you can class Liverpool as a holiday or even a break but there we are. I had to think about it for a bit but since I had a ticket to ride I thought I’d let it be.

Help!

Now, I’d almost forgotten, due to my hermitude, that when I make a plan, Karma wakes up. Ooh, here she goes – *rubs hands together so hard causes a fire* thinks she’s gonna have it easy? BWAHAHAHAHA! 

For starters, the day before my trip a terrorist attack happened in Liverpool. Yes, Liverpool. A car bomb got made by some arsehole and went off in a hospital car park not 300 yards away from the house that I’m going to stay in. Lovely. 

Maybe I shouldn’t go…

Hey Jude Jules “It’ll be alright – there are coppers everywhere. It’s the safest place to be.” 

Hmmm… I’m already on edge. But, you can’t let these nastyass people ruin your plans so I prepared myself for the long and winding road.

Twist and Shout

First stop – wolfits to the kennels! Off I go with the mutts after a long run after a hare across the farmer’s fields. 

“Hmmm – one of your dog’s vaccination cards hasn’t been stamped by the vet. I will need to call them to check if you’re a big fat liar.”

“Go ahead. My dogs are on a plan. They have better healthcare and food than I do. They must have forgotten due to the Covid nonsense.”

He called the vet. It rang and rang. He tried again. This went on for a while. In the meantime, one of the wolfits got bored and pissed up the side of stacked bags of kibble in his shop. Brilliant.

Eventually, the vet answered. The kennel man passed over his mobile phone for me to talk to them as they couldn’t find the information. I put his phone to my ear and said hello and then screamed because my eardrum nearly burst. Kennel man had his phone on speaker which I didn’t realise and the vet receptionist’s voice is still reverberating in my ear canal. 

“I’m sorry but we don’t have your dogs listed at all. There’s no information whatsoever.”

“Well, that’s impossible. I fetched their medicine not two weeks ago. I pay a lot of money to be on your plan and I don’t need this sort of unprofessional nightmare.” Not with the prices you charge. What an outrage.

The receptionist and I had a bit of a passive-aggressive spat and then she told me the name of the vet. It was then that I realised that wasn’t my vet and that’s why she had no idea about my pets. Kennel man had called the wrong veterinary surgery from some other boarder’s sheet. Plonker.

The receptionist put the phone down on me. Karma barked out a laugh. 

The situation got sorted and I left in a terrible rush because I had made myself a strict timetable in order to leave for my junket with everything done. Now I was behind schedule.

While My Guitar iPhone Gently Weeps

I rushed home and started to gather up lots of blankets and cushion covers. The plan was to get all these washed down at the launderette and back on before I left so I could come back to house beautiful. The launderette has huge washing machines that could get it all washed and dried in one go rather than me spending all day using mine. I like the zen of a break to continue when I get back home so I can get back into the swing of things gently. It never happens but I live in hope that one day, it might. 

As I rushed around with my arms full I dropped my iPhone into a hot bucket of water that I’d used to mop the floor earlier and hadn’t yet disposed of. 

“ARGHHHHHHHHH!”

Blankets dropped, I fished around in the water trying to find it whilst screaming like a banshee gently cursing. I rushed it over to the kitchen counter and then dived into the pantry to find the jar of Basmati rice. In it went with force. I prayed and promised to be a much better human being – but only if it didn’t break. 

Penny Lane

I arrived at the launderette. The machines took coins which I didn’t have so I had to change a couple of tenners into pounds and twenty pence pieces in the change machine. There were an awful lot of coins so I put them all in the zipped part of my purse, zipped it up tight and put it back into my bag. I then set about putting all my stuff into the giant washer, filled up the detergent compartment and set the temperature. I pulled my purse back out, went to unzip it and pulled the zipper head clean off. Sigh.

Now, if this had been any other zip and I mean ANY other zip it would have parted its teeth and gaped its brokenness at me. For example, if this was a piece of clothing and I was on a night out it would ruin my evening and force me to go home because, oh look, my zip has bust. 

Not this little git. Oh no, this remained tight shut like a bull terrier with lockjaw. I could not get inside to get my coins. I looked out of the window to see if I could spot anyone dodgy who might have a knife. Nothing except a doddery old window cleaner. I ended up using my car key to try and open it and with great force, it slipped over the metal teeth and cut my knuckle. 

 Finally, and after a lot of will, I got it torn open and the coins spilt out everywhere. I’ll have a new purse for Christmas, thanks…

 Here Comes The Sun

I sat watching the machines whirl round and round for an hour and found the experience quite relaxing which is just what I bloody needed.  As my blankets were drying and I sat patiently waiting, a weird little chap came in to dry his washing. He kept telling me that it was too foggy and damp outside to put it on the line.

“I’ll do six minutes at a time I think – these driers are hot,” he said.

“Yes. Good idea.”

“That’s what I do. Six minutes at a time.”

“Right.”

“How many minutes have you got left?”

“It’s already too many.”

I ended up taking my laundry back a little bit damp.

Eleanor Rigby

Picks out the rice from her phone where connection has been…

I pulled out my phone from the rice jar. I noticed that there was rice jammed into the space where the phone charger goes. How? How has my rice suddenly turned into miniature cous-cous and found a way to block that hole? I sat carefully trying to pick it out bit by bit with a pin hoping I am not going to ruin the connection because we all know how temperamental these things are. I rang someone to make sure it was working and told them about the ordeal.

“You didn’t have to put it in rice – iPhones have been waterproof since the iPhone 8.”

Why did I not know this? 

The day was a colossal nightmare which led me to believe that the high jinks coming up with the scousers should be a breeze by comparison. Liverpool, don’t let me down.