So, you wander downstairs in need of coffee, feeling lethargic, and not really having enough energy to start the day. You make a nice cup of coffee. You lug it all the way back upstairs to the office and slump into the chair, ready for a day of keyboard staring and unwriting.
Ready to savour that first sip of coffee.
And when you finally succumb, you realise you forgot to put sugar in it.
On yesterday’s setisoppO, we mentioned this moment.
Now, I know this was a parody of his own show on The Late Late Show with James Corden, but it got me thinking. First, it put me in mind of this.
And because my mind tends to focus on comedy things it can remember, it then led me on to this.
It seems odd that we watch the real versions of these shows in high numbers. Like Dragon’s Den for example, where we watch people with ideas and aspirations go cap in hand to rich knobs who sit there in judgement, while everyone else does all the work. They might as well look like Mr Creosote, and have someone peeling grapes for them.
This is how it should be done.
Aim up, not down.
(It seems I make all my points using comedy clips.)
We all know what a Hotdog is, right? It’s a sausage in a bun. But after that, it gets rather complicated.
Is the sausage the dog in the hotdog? If so, why are they called hotdog sausages?
Shouldn’t they just be called Dogs? And then, when heated, they become hot Dogs, right? So, doesn’t that make the sausage the Hot part? Because if you served them cold, it wouldn’t be a Hotdog …
The theory goes that Hotdogs got their name because they used to be rumoured to be made from dog meat, thus suggesting that the sausage is indeed the dog part of the dish. Don’t we all agree though, that if you put a British sausage like this …
… in a bun, it becomes a Hotdog? But those sausages aren’t called Hotdog Sausages like the ones above. They’re called sausages. So do you need to put a hotdog sausage in a bun to make a Hotdog?
No, we already decided we don’t.
But then, look again at that jar in the picture above, it doesn’t actually say Hotdog sausages, it just says Hotdogs. And we all know that a sausage on its own can’t be a Hotdog. A sausage on its own is called a sausage.
So, if a hotdog sausage isn’t the same as a sausage, and hotdog sausages are sold as hotdogs, and a sausage on its own isn’t a Hotdog, and any old sausage in a bun is a Hotdog, and a bun on its own isn’t a Hotdog, what part of the Hotdog is the dog, and what part of the Hotdog is a hot?
Every day, someone comes to your door and slips all sorts of things through your letter box, or stuffs all sorts of things into your mailbox. And every day, that same person walks away empty handed.
And sometimes, you have something inside the house that you need to carry to a box in the street, where you just put in it and leave it, expecting someone dressed like the person that comes to your door every day, to come and pick it up out of the box.
I can’t be the only person that thinks this is inefficient.
Why doesn’t the person who comes to your house every day just pick up the thing you need to mail, and take it back with them?
It just needs a lockable box by the door, with a little flag that you stick in the air to let them know it’s got a letter inside.
What am I missing? Why don’t they do this?
Anyway, here’s a sketch I once wrote about the mail.
(That’s not the title I gave the sketch, that’s just what some bootlegger on YouTube called it.
Also, the best joke in this, isn’t something I wrote. “I don’t speak lexical” is a great line, and I wish I knew who came up with it.)
If you know me, or follow this blog, you know I have a deep love of board games. And you probably know that I dislike Monopoly, even when it’s played properly. That shouldn’t taint the following assertion though, because it’s truer that a true thing strapped to a polygraph.
Monopoly ruined the world.
The generation that grew up playing Monopoly seems to have taken the game deep into its heart. Witness.
They bought up all the property.
They bought up all the public works.
They bought up all the trains.
They bought up all the electric companies.
They emptied the community chest.
They played a game designed to warn against the dangers of putting all the wealth in the hands of a few people, and they learned the exact opposite lesson.