
Do Chairs Have Consciousness? (And Are They Judging Us?)
A whimsical essay pondering whether chairs might secretly have consciousness — and if they do, are they quietly judging us for the crumbs, the slouching, and the occasional fart?
Not what you were thinking…
A whimsical essay pondering whether chairs might secretly have consciousness — and if they do, are they quietly judging us for the crumbs, the slouching, and the occasional fart?
A reflection on why modern art leaves some of us baffled. Landscapes and happy little trees make sense — pickled cows and piles of bricks, not so much.
Minecraft might be Swedish by birth, but in spirit, it’s deeply British: chaotic building projects, aimless wandering, low-level panic, and stubborn optimism. A whimsical essay on why Minecraft belongs to Britain now.
April showers bring more than flowers—they bring chaos. A whimsical guide to the different types of British April rain, from soggy betrayals to full-blown biblical walls of moisture.
What does your choice of breakfast cereal reveal about your emotional state? A whimsical, nostalgic look at soggy Weetabix, chaotic Coco Pops, and a heartfelt lament for the loss of Ricicles.
You definitely locked the door… didn’t you? A one-act domestic drama about the spiral of self-doubt that follows us down the street. Whimsical, relatable, and mildly unhinged.
Ever wandered into a room and forgotten why? You’re not alone. A whimsical exploration of one of life’s most baffling yet universal experiences—losing your train of thought mid-walk.
The great British tradition of escaping work on a Friday—stealth exits, dramatic goodbyes, and last-minute traps. A humorous look at the different types of Friday departures.