Hello new world

I checked to make sure I wasn’t eating melted plastic and re-read the three cheeses mentioned on the front of the box on this four cheese pizza.

Because of all of the production staff running about, I just felt like an extra on a TV show. One that I paid to be in, and one that I didn’t like.

For reasons unknown, the Roborock treats loose wires like a stage. He spins on them. Twirls. Pirouettes. And then, inevitably, throws a tantrum. “The mop mount fell off,” he announces, half-ashamed, half-accusing, before pinging a notification to my phone like it’s my fault he got tangled in the first place.

I could’ve chewed this without chewing.

One boot to rule them all, and in the dark, bind them. My feet that is. Painfully.

Once in place, the happy robot voice told me to start the self-cleaning mode. I thought, Why don’t you do it yourself? I couldn’t help but wonder how it’s smart enough to auto-detect suction and water levels at any given time, and even alert me when the tanks are full or empty, yet it can’t figure out when it needs a self-clean.

Before I even had a chance to register what on planet Earth was going on, we were explained that there was a €13 minimum spend per head as if it was a backstreet all-you-can-eat shitbox.

This Bisto curry sauce was like a corrupted memory of actual curry sauce

Here comes Nothing

I could feel my day slipping away from me like the £6.25 I had spent on this box of dropped-looking turds