I was eating cake yesterday, and as I ate the icing, something occurred to me. It was buttercream icing, and I thought how it was made up of two ingredients: fat and sugar. This is like the two unhealthiest things in food joining forces to become one delicious cake covering of evil. Imagine. It both clogs your arteries and rots your teeth. It doesn’t just want to make you fat, it also wants to make you hyper. If you only ate buttercream, you would get obesity and diabetes.

Why settle for gingevitis, when you can get hypertension thrown in for free!

What is most amazing about buttercream is that you’d never eat the two ingredients separately. No-one gets a pat of butter and eats it with a teaspoon, and no-one grabs a packet of sugar and pours it into their mouth. You just wouldn’t do it. But when you make buttercream, the biggest temptation is to take it into your living room, sit down, and just start eating it. Isn’t that right? Surely it can’t just be me …

All this thinking led me, naturally, to the consideration of 20th Century history. I got to thinking about what could have happened if Hitler and Stalin had made friends and joined forces. And I have to confess, I think what would have resulted would not have been a worse record in human rights abuses. Or at least, not so overt as those two regimes exhibited. No, I think what would have happened — and here I’m following the same logic as the buttercream example — would have been much more subtle.

I submit it to you today that if those two regimes had become one, we would have ended up with something a lot like Disney land. Now this is scary stuff. Now bear in mind that my proof is found in this buttercream logic. It’s up to you as to whether you agree that this is valid, but I put my idea forward to a famous historian* and he cried at the beauty of my thinking. So this idea carries a lot of weight and authority**.

So there it is folks. Just gonna let this idea settle and make its way throughout the internet. Comments are welcome.

* No I didn’t.

** No it doesn’t.

Louis Armstrong, the famous jazz singer, owed his beautiful singing voice to the humble sore throat. Armstrong, who was a very skilled microbiologist, kept cultures of bacteria and viruses that he would breathe in each morning with his morning coffee.

In addition to his trademark husky voice, the microbes he inhaled also gave rise to an enormously strong immune system. In fact it was said that he could withstand any infectious or contagious disease thrown at him.

And all this was, of course, all completely true.

Did you know that goat’s cheese is actually made with cow’s milk. It’s just made on farms owned and operated by goats.

Did you know that there is no word in the English language that rhymes with the word “rhyme”?

Miss Marple is one of the best ever TV shows ever in the whole wide world, better even than the News. This was recently certified by the Queen in the Honours list, where for the first time in British history something that wasn’t a person was made an MBE. Miss Marple was written by Agatha Christie through strictly speaking, of course, it is more correct to say that it was written through Agatha Christie, since the whole thing is divinely inspired.

Throughout the 80s and early 90s, it made the move into television. Starring Joan Hickson, it went from strength to strength, purely because of the most incredible overacting on the part of the entire cast. Apart from the BBC adaptation of Jane Austen’s novel Pride and Prejudice, Miss Marple is the most overacted piece of television ever to be made. It has been demonstrated, scientifically, that overacting is the key to making dramas brilliant. As celebrity chef Gordon Ramsey says, “What is the point of subtlety when you can completely exaggerate something beyond all recognition until it approaches divinity. You know it’s true.”

His views can be proven scientifically, mathematically and biblically.

Overacting is the art of making mountains out of molehills. True overacting has the power to take fiction and make it into solid, hard fact. If you can really overact, with enough skill and precision, you can make Shakespeare’s plays into documentaries. But overacting can also be very dangerous. Overacting is now illegal in Japan after the terrible tragedies of 1993.

On December 12, 1993, three cinemas completely exploded when an experimental film was premiered. In keeping with the theme of pure exaggeration, the film had no title but was named with a scream. “We’re going to see AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHH tonight, do you want to come?” It was directed by no fewer than 13 directors. The script called for 17 directors, but one of them spontaneously combusted when he finished reading the script, and the remaining three were annhilated upon contact — much like the reaction between matter and anti-matter.

You can read about this on Wikipedia.

Did you know that the correct way to address a judge is, “Judgey-baby”?

• “Would you like some more tea, Judgey-baby?”
• “Great judgement, Judgey-baby.”
• “Ha ha ha ha ha ha, Judgey-baby.” (If, say, he/she told a joke.)

Funny what you learn at Judges’ conferences, isn’t it?

Felicity Kendal, widely known from popular British sitcom The Good Life, is possibly one of the busiest women in the world. She is certainly an excellent multi-tasker, if nothing else.

As her name suggests, Felicity Kendal is the inventor of Kendal Mint Cake. She is also the sole manufacturer of the product. Between rehearsing for her various stage productions, and filming new episodes of Rosemary and Thyme, she can be seen furiously scraping white crystals from her skin into boxes.

Felicity Kendal has a rare medical condition that causes her sweat to contain high proportions of sugar and menthol, instead of salt and urea. She quite literally manufactures the mint cake herself.

Kendal’s incredible ability was discovered shortly after filming a particularly energetic episode of The Good Life, at the end of which she was required to kiss Richard Briers. The increased activity caused a trace of perspiration to remain on Kendal’s face, which Briers tasted during the kiss.

After investigation by Penelope Keith, a trained medic, Kendal’s status as a medical miracle was confirmed. At first, only a handful of people who worked in TV were aware of Kendal’s incredible secret. After a few months, however, the public began to notice the fact that kisses between Tom and Barbara we getting longer and longer. Questions began to be asked.

Producers at ITV were put under increasing pressure to provide answers. This was more than a little strange, since The Good Life was a BBC production, but sensing an opportunity to bring their competitors down, ITV’s bosses began answering those questions — often providing outlandish answers. For example, it was once claimed that every night Kenneth Williams would visit the home of Kendal and paint her all over with sugar water mixed with essence of mint. Another story had Kendal rolling naked through fields of mint each morning, while yet another held that Kendal was in fact an automaton made entirely out of sugar.

The libel suits brought by the BBC nearly bankrupted ITV, but the lies persisted for nearly 20 years until Professor Robert Winston, acting under the Queen’s instruction, forcibly obtained some of Kendal’s DNA in the late 80s at a garden party. Disguised as a tree, he was able to pick up a few stray hairs and secrete them about his person.

The DNA was taken away and sent to the Royal Society where it was studied intensively. The discoveries were astounding. Not only was Kendal’s condition hereditary, but it turned out that nearly all of Felicity Kendal’s biochemistry was based around sugar and menthol.

Despite enormous public interest, nothing was made of Kendal’s abilities until the summer of 1992, when on a country walk Kendal was able to sustain herself, her husband and two of their friends for three days after the party became lost on the Yorkshire moors.

The search and rescue team were astonished to find all four people alive and well. One of them was actually in a better condition than before they had set out, such was the quality of of Kendal’s amazing mint product.

It was one of the rescuers who suggested the name, Kendal Mint Cake. He also mentioned that the confection bore a resemblance to the sanitary products used in gentlemen’s toilets, but nobody listened to that part. Despite initial resistance from Kendal, the name stuck, and Kendal Mint Cake has been a firm favourite amongst ramblers ever since. Each year, on the 5th of July, walkers collect on the Yorkshire moors and eat Kendal Mint Cake in celebration of Kendal’s rescue, and the subsequent success of Kendal Mint Cake.