Upsell in a Nutshell

*dusts off blog*

So I've been in the doldrums lately, what with one thing and another, so I figured it was time for a silly post. With that in mind, I've tracked down Ima Nutcase, the elusive reporter from The Daily Ramble, and got her to interview yours truly...


Hello everyone! Ima Nutcase here, and I have another exclusive interview with the Taffiest of authors, Tara Smith, who writes under the pen name of Amber T. Smith. The last time we caught up with Ms Smith was just over a year ago, when I was sadly misinformed of her premature death. As much as a journalist strives to report only the absolute truth, it seems I was duped into writing a false article, and though it pains me to retract my words (professional pride and all), I am also very happy to discover that Ms Smith is alive and well. And apparently still 23 years old. Note to self: must discover how this lady has stayed 23 for the three years in which I have been interviewing her.

Without further ado, here's the interview!

Ima: Good evening, Tara! It's been a while since we last chatted - tell me, what's been happening this last year?

Tara: Well, I got my book published a few months ago, which was nice! I'm pretty sure I've probably scared the people who have actually bought it, what with the insanely silly plotline, but everyone knew I was nuts anyway, so I'm not overly worried about that...

Ima: Yes. Well. *coughs* That really is great news!!

Tara: Yes, I thought so, too! Of course, I'm not going to be quitting my day job any time soon, but it's a start!

Ima: Indeed. Remind me what your day job is...?

Tara: I work in a covenience store called 'Spar'.

Ima: And your job entails...?

Tara: I work the stock, and serve as a cashier on the tills. And I upsell.

Ima: Excuse me... upsell?

Tara: Would you like to try some lovely scones, madam? Eight for a pound!

Ima: Erm, not at present, thank you all the same. Now then, upselling?

Tara: I have some fresh bananas on offer, madam,would you like any? Only a pound!

Ima: Er...

Tara: I see you're buying gammon, madam. How about a lovely fresh pineapple? On offer for a pound this week!

Ima: I really didn't...

Tara: Crumpets!

Ima: WHAT??

Tara: Only a pound!!

Ima: Well really, this is getting ridiculous...

Tara: What day is it?

Ima: Er, Friday. But what does that - ?

Tara: Would you like to buy a bonus ball for the lottery this Saturday? Two pounds a ticket, fifty pounds if you win, and all proceeds go to the NSPCC!

Ima: *is befuddled*

Tara: No? Don't like your chances? Well, for that same two pounds, you could have TWO punnets of strawberries! Only a POUND each! Bargain!

Ima: Look, I really only came here for an interview...

Tara: Nooooo! I have to upsell! It's in my contract! *eyes glaze over*

Ima: *starts to back away*

Tara: Plums! Only a pound!

Ima: *makes mental note to avoid crazy Taffy woman in the future*

Tara: Wait! You can't go yet!You haven't bought any Frazzles! Six packets for a pound!

Ima: I DON'T WANT ANY FRAZZLES!

Clearly, Ms Smith has lost the plot. Whether she regains her sanity remains to be seen, but I'm afraid this reporter is beating a hasty retreat. This is Ima Nutcase, reporting for The Daily...oh my giddyauntie, she's chasing me now!!!

Ima: *runs*

Tara: *chases reporter* We still have 350 packets of Hot Cross Buns! Just buy one packet...please! Only a pound! *cackles madly*

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Cardiff Mourns A Daughter *

Hello everyone, Ima Nutcase here, intrepid reporter for The Daily Ramble. Usually I cover the human interest stories, with the odd bit of insanity thrown in here and there, but today I have some sad news for my regular readers.

You will probably remember several of my more popular interviews with Tara Smith (23), a young author-in-waiting who was embarking on the daunting journey of writing and publishing a novel. The youthful Cardiffian had written a chick lit novel set in her home city of Cardiff, and after more than a year of procrastinating, had been on the brink of finally polishing her final draft.

You will no doubt remember her trials and tribulations as she initially began writing about her modern day Cinderella and her talking pussy (cat). There were endless computer problems, boken keboas, lack of time issues, lack of inspiration issues, and, perhaps the most drastic problem of all,overcoming her procrastination urges. We will, perhaps, forget about the time when her despair drove her to drink several large bottles of vodka. Or if not forget, then smile with remembered fondness.

Of course, she eventually overcame her obstacles and finished her first draft. All of Cardiff rejoiced as a daughter of the city took her first steps to Authorsville. You will remember that there was a long period of idleness just after this, when our youthful author did not even look at her flawed manuscript. It was, in fact, another 16 months before Tara Smith (still 23, of course) decided she could not put it off any longer. It was when the eternally 23 year old finally pulled her butt into gear and started polishing her mass of typos and spelling errors, that tragedy struck. Yes, our favoured (young) daughter of Cardiff has passed on, forever sleeping in her 23 year old body.

But how did she die? Ah, my faithful readers, that is perhaps the most tragic part of this woeful report.

Our perky author-to-be was sat down happily tapping away at her working keboa, when she heard a strange voice. This hitherto unknown voice was apparently giving her pointers on how to edit her novel, and, to put it bluntly, was being quite helpful. At first the doomed young woman thought it was her Inner Voice - Ms Smith had always put great stock into these types of things you understand - but then she was struck by rather an absurd idea. The voice sounded suspiciously like how she'd imagined her talking pussy would sound from her novel. In fact, the original Muse behind her Muse (said pussy's name) was her very own feline friend, the beautiful Belle, and Belle appeared to be moving her mouth in time with the unknown voice.

Ms Smith (23, in case you forgot), was struck dumb (itself a most unusual feat) as she prepared to accept the strange fact that her cat had begun to talk to her. In her haste to prove the seemingly impossible, Ms Smith decided to put her laptop to one side,  pick up her pussy (who was still moving her mouth in a most alarming fashion), and begin a conversation.

And this is where tragedy struck our ill-fated friend. On rising from her chair, Ms Smith performed one of her famous Tara-Trips (though this time she at least managed to keep her boobage firmly within her jumper). She in fact tripped over her cat, skidded across her shiny laminate flooring, hit her head on the side of her solid pine coffee table, which, upon collision, began to wobble and thus spill the half cup of coffee that was perched on the edge.

All this, and perhaps our young author might still have survived. Unfortunately, the up-ended cup of coffee landed on poor Belle, who immediately shook the offending liquid from her beautiful silver-tabbied fur. Again, Ms Smith was still breathing, but with the typical unfortunate timing of these tragic accidents, a stroke of lightening managed to hit the aerial outside the house, shooting its electrical current straight through to the TV which was situated right next to the coffee table, and also, alas, next to the poor dripping pussy.

Poor Belle shook and quivered as she was struck by the current, the force of which hurtled the poor feline through the air, landing with unerring accuracy upon Ms Smith's face. Both cat and owner perished. Yes, dear readers, it is sad to report it, but it is true. One of the most promising young authors to come out of Cardiff since... well, since last year at the very least... has died, killed by the Muse who originally inspired her.

And so today, we remember Tara Smith (23). Wife, mother, writer of occasional blogs, and author of one unpublished novel. We remember her annoying habit of putting things off until the last minute; we remember her fondness for vodka, her overuse of innuendo, and her unfortunate habit of tripping over fresh air.

Mostly we will remember her for the way she died; smothered to death by a dripping and shaking pussy.

*shifty*

*Just in case anyone was worried, Tara Smith (23, oh alright 34 *grumbles*), is in fact alive and well. Which should be obvious as she is (or rather, I am) typing this post.  This post being, by the way, my effort for The Watery Tart's Delusional Doom Blogfest.

*is doing it all over again*

Good morning/afternoon/evening everyone! Ima Nutcase here, your faithful reporter dutifully doing her thing and bringing you the latest news from around the world (or Cardiff, as the case may be). I have to apologise because I have been so scarce lately, but my boss made me cover some "important" stories over the last few months and I haven't been able to stick to what I know best. (Honestly, I kept telling Mr Editor that nobody was interested in British politics or Icelandic volcanoes, but he wouldn't have it, and forced me to report on them anyway. *rolls eyes*).

So here I am, back to my roots in the Kair of Diff, and about to meet up with one of my favorite victims clients. My faithful readers should be in no doubt of whom I speak of, for today's subject has been interviewed a few times before, and each time was very interesting. I am talking about, of course, young Cardiff housewife Tara Smith. Tara (who still insists she is 23) is, as I'm sure you'll remember, rather famous (or so she claims) for being a procrastinator of the first order, as well as a semi-regular blogger and part-time writer of innuendo-filled modern fairy tales. The last time we caught up with Tara, she was bemoaning the state of her NaNo novel because she had suffered some damage to her computer. You will be pleased to know that Tara (23), finally finished her novel, despite her setbacks, and even managed to get a decent laptop to replace her rather decrepit computer.

Now, six months later, we catch up with the young housewife and see what she has up her sleeves for the coming month.

Ima Nutcase: So Tara, what have you been up to since we last spoke to you?

Tara Smith: Oh you know, this and that. Well, mostly this if I'm honest, and not a lot of that at all, but you know what I mean.

IN: Quite. So you've not had a very eventful six months, then?

TS: Well I wouldn't say that. There's been lots of stuff going on, but I'm sure it wouldn't interest your readers. I'd much prefer to keep things of a private nature, well, private, if you know what I mean. I'm not one to talk, you know that.

IN: I see. So you don't want to discuss the last few months with your favorite roving reporter?

TS: Nope.

IN: Not even a little bit?

TS: Sorry.

IN: *pouts*

TS: I thought you might want to discuss things that are happening right now, you know, current events, that sort of thing.

IN: Well, if that's all you've got for me, I suppose we might as well....

Yes, dear readers, it seems that our twenty-something friend is not willing to discuss her recent history with us. But never fear, I am sure we can still get some interesting details about forthcoming events from our young Cardiffian.

IN: So, moving swiftly on, what can you tell us about what is happening in your life right now?

TS: Well, I have two pieces of news for you.

IN: Excellent!

TS: I'll tell you the smaller piece first, because I know how you reporters like to keep the bigger stuff for the end of the article, yes?

IN: Indeed. Always best to keep the climax for the finale, don't you agree?

TS: Oh yes, I quite agree. Well, the first thing I'm going to tell you about is my blog. I've decided that I will be using asterisked titles for all of my June blogs.

IN: Didn't you do that before?

TS: Yes! I'm glad you remember! I'm starting a tradition!

IN: A tradition?

TS: Yes, a tradition!

At this point, dear reader, I have to admit that your faithful reporter is somewhat confused. A tradition would imply that something is occurring on a regular basis, but seeing as it has been six months since the last time our young friend blogged with asterisked titles, this poor Nutcase is a wee bit confuzzlegasted. Obviously we need to pump for more details.

TS: Honestly. *rolls eyes* I'm leading up to my big news here, isn't it obvious?

Well, not really, no.

TS: Well the last time I asterisked all over the place, I was writing my NaNo novel, yes? This time I am writing my BuNo novel, which although has a different name, is basically the same thing.

IN: You're writing the same book again?

TS: No! I meant that NaNo and BuNo are the same sort of thing. Only I have to admit, I like BuNo better.

IN: Ah! *penny drops* You are attempting to write a 50,000 word novel this month again, yes?

TS: Yes! Only this time, my fabulous writers group are hosting the event. I thought that asterisking my blog titles for the month of June would be a nice little connection with the whole write-a-novel-in-30-days- thingy. Youknowzitmakezsense!

IN: *takes a calming breath and counts to ten* So you are going to blog this month using asterisked titles?

TS: Yes!

IN: And you are also going to write a novel?

TS: Well duh, isn't that what I've been trying to explain to you?

Quite frankly, at this point, dear reader, your humble Nutcase is feeling a bit violent, but being the professional person that I am, I resist strangling the youngish housewife and paste a friendly smile to my face as she starts rambling about her current project. I suspect that the Cardiffian has been at the vodka again, but I refrain from probing this issue as that would mean extending the interview, and quite honestly, this Nutcase has had about enough for one day.

IN: In short, you are blogging with asterisks this month because you are writing a novel, and that is what you did the last time?

TS: That's right, Ima, I am. Ooh, Ima, I am - that's kinda funny, isn't it? Ima, I am, Ima, I am....

IN:  *gnashes teeth * And what is the subject of your latest novel? Perhaps a sequel to your last effort?

TS: Er, actually, I'm still not sure.

IN: But shouldn't you be writing already? It is the first day of June.

TS: Oh pish posh, that doesn't bother me. I'll start writing something by the end of the day, never you fear.

As the young housewife takes a sip of a suspiciously clear-looking 'cup of tea', this reporter feels that the interview has come to a natural conclusion. As we pack up our equipment, we leave the Kairdiff Slag sipping her 'tea' and humming somewhat manically, and we promise her that we will be back to follow up on her current project.

Though honestly, if another volcanic eruption happens, I'll be begging Mr Editor to let me cover that instead.

Ima Nutcase, The Daily Ramble.

*is reporting again*

Hello everyone, Ima Nutcase here, bringing you the very latest news! As with all news, sometimes it is good, sometimes it is bad. Here at The Daily Ramble we like to think that we bring you all of the news, be it heart-breaking or uplifting.

You may remember our previous two reports about a young Cardiff housewife. Tara Smith (still 23), seems to be experiencing a rather eventful November. Unfortunately, these events are leaning towards the aforementioned heart-breaking side of things.  We caught up with our doom-filled Cardiffian, and asked her for further details.

"It's been a ducking nightmare of a month," she explains. "Honestly, I don't what I did to deserve this, I really don't."

We offer the distraught young woman a few tissues, and urge her to continue.

"I was so happy last month," she says, wiping her eyes delicately. "I finally had a laptop to work on - after being without one for ages - and I thought, great! Finally I can get back to my writing! Then the bluddy thing ducked up and stopped working. After a mere two weeks. I mean seriously. Seriously? Just after I had committed myself to doing the NaNoWriMo, too."

Not one to give up, our brave housewife still continued with her plans. Using the other two available PCs in the house whenever she could, she indeed progressed marvelously with her NaNo novel.

"I'd just passed 32,000 words," says Tara morosely. "It had been difficult, what with having next to no time at all on the computer, and sharing them with the family, but I was doing it. I was really excited."

Cue heart-breaking moment, we suspect.

"And then, last night, my.... oh Lordy, I don't know if I can speak," sobs Tara.

We offer a few more tissues, and a rather large glass of vodka. It seems to do the trick, and the young housewife continues her rambling.

"My son informed me that his computer wouldn't start. I checked, and sure enough, it wouldn't boot up."

Said computer is currently being pulled apart by Mr. Smith, who is hoping to recover all data before he does something technical to it (we won't go into detail, because we are technically challenged).

"I just don't know how much more I can take," sighs the depressed housewife as she helps herself to some more tissues and another straight vodka.

We at The Daily Ramble are not without heart, so we decide to offer some good news to instill a little cheer into our unlucky aspiring novelist.  We remind her that she has now amassed fifty daily blogs. We tell her that this is quite the achievement, especially for someone who is notorious for slacking when it comes to writing.

"That is nice," says a slightly happier Mrs Smith. " I suppose there's a silver lining after all."


Indeed. We at The Daily Ramble look forward to another fifty blogs, and cross our fingers for a speedy computer problems fix.


Ima Nutcase, The Daily Ramble

Breaking News: Update!

Following our recent story about a young Cardiff resident, today we bring you a further twist in the tale.

You may recall how we reported that Tara Smith, 23, had recently celebrated the arrival of her lovely (working) laptop. Cardiff residents rejoiced at this news, which allowed one of their own to bravely continue with her plans to conquer the world (actually, she just wants to write a novel, but that doesn't make for a very interesting story here at The Daily Ramble, so we thoughtfully added an embellishment or two).

Cardiff residents were very happy indeed. Unfortunately, their joyfulness was to be short-lived. In the last 24 hours, there have been several reports of an alarming nature arriving at Ramble HQ. The somewhat metropolitan capital of Cardiff appears to be under assault by none other than a Very Angry Bear.

Residents have spotted said bear frequently since early evening yesterday, as eye-witness Jacob Hollins informs us.

"Well, I don't know that it was a bear like, innit, but it definitely 'ad brown hair like," said Mr. Hollins, a 17-year old student of Cardiff High School.

Further witnesses are similarly vague, but all (none) agree that it was a Very Angry Bear.

"Oh, I saw something nick a bike from Llandaff Fields," said Claire Jones, 29. "It was blinkin' weird, it was!"





"It might have been a bear," said Katy Gingham, 12. "But it was so dark, like, it could have been anyfink. It 'ad brown hair though."

Our intrepid reporter decided to investigate these disturbing sightings, and after much hard work discovered the truth.

The bear is none other than Tara Smith (23). It has been discovered that her laptop has malfunctioned, and this calamity has brought our hitherto happy young lady to the very depths of despair.

We came across the poor unfortunate woman drowning her sorrows at this latest twist of fate, and we asked her exactly what happened.

"Grrrr, grrr, GRRRR!," growled the bear-woman. "Hic, grr, NaNo, grr,, grr, GRRRRR, doomed, hic, grr."

Quite. From these mad mutterings, we deciphered the following fact: Tara Smith (23), is fairly frustrated at the recent turn of events. After recently committing herself to this year's NaNoWriMo, she is now doomed to having to write her story on paper first.

Quite how she will manage this feat is uncertain, especially as she now appears to have grown a set of disturbingly sharp claws.

"Grr, grr, GRRRR,time-wasting, grr, hic, grr,grr,GRRR, hic, doomed, grr, GRRR!"

Indeed. Writing the story by hand, and then finding a computer to type it on, will surely be taxing.

How will this story end? Our dutiful reporter will bring you updates as and when they occur. In the meantime, we shall leave our Very Angry Bear to her (drunken) despair.



Ima Nutcase, The Daily Ramble.

Breaking News!!

We interrupt this blog to bring you the latest breaking news (Well, technically this news is two days old, but we won't let a little thing like accuracy get in the way of our reporting duty. Can you imagine what would happen to the world of tabloids if we started fretting over things like that?).

Our report takes us to a little house in Cardiff, where Tara Smith, 23 (author's license *shifty*) has been spotted whooping with joy and dancing naked in the garden (well maybe not 'naked', but we find that adding these embellishments to the story brings in more readers). Our intrepid reporter investigated this unusual occurrence and found out the reason for this sudden spurt of insanity.

"It's been a nightmare!" said Tara Smith, 23 (subliminal). "My laptop has been terminally ill for the last seven months and I was at the end of my tether!"

Tara Smith, 23 (is it working yet?) had spent the previous seven months suffering from the lack of laptop love. This terrible state of affairs had led to some appalling acts of behaviour.

"It's been awful," continued the 23 year old (*coughs*). "I've had to resort to all sorts of things that I'd never have dreamed of in the past."

Our reporter's instincts roused. "How so?" we inquire.

"My house, for starters. Never, and I mean never, has it been so tidy. I even scrubbed behind the toilet."

Scandalous indeed.

"Then there's the books. I've decimated the local library," shuddered the young housewife. "I've read books from all sorts of genres, genres I'd have avoided like the plague in my pre-laptop years."

Disturbingly, these revelations appear to be true. Our reporter found copious amounts of library receipts dating back to February of this year. It appears that Mrs. Smith had been taking out the maximum 15 books each time she visited. Even more disturbing, she had read them in far less time than the three week stipulation of the date stamp. Shocking.

"Then there's the addiction," sighed Mrs. Smith.

Yes, readers, addiction. Our poor (young) victim had succumbed to the powers of something so powerful, she almost forgot her love of the laptop.

"There's just so many things to watch these days," sighed the 23 year old. "I can't let my week go by without finding out if Izzy is still as annoying as ever, or whether McDreamy has kept up with his shaving routine. Not to mention Dean's situation. I mean, the poor guy has to defeat the devil, you've got to show him a little support. The least I can do is keep up to date."

It's only a few steps between sampling the fare and overdoing it, reflects our reporter sadly. However, despite the tragic element to the story, we have reached the part of the article when the light shines brightly on our poor, young addicted fool.

"But then things changed," prompted our reporter.

"Oh yes, yes they did! My husband finally got me a laptop that worked! It's been absolutely fantastic being able to open my laptop and have it stay on for longer than five minutes. And the keys! They all work! It's wonderful!"

Hence the naked (insinuated) dancing and whooping, we gather.

"Well, a girl's got to have the opportunity to celebrate, hasn't she?" beamed the 23 year old.

Let's hope that the young housewife's luck continues.

Ima Nutcase, The Daily Ramble.