If you could have a garish marshmallow charm all of your own design, what magical power would it give you?
2. I receive a gloating email from an internet person that reads "Simmer with jealousy, I have finger puppets of the ten plagues of Passover. One of them is a dead baby. Louse is masturbating". She posts pictures of them. I am consumed with envy.
Who or what would you like to see immortalised in a finger puppet and why?
3. I am asked, like a latter day Emily Post, to give advice on the best way to thank someone for the gift of a sausage without turning into Kenneth Williams. I fail.
I will take your best answers to this. Assume for these purposes that there is significant unresolved sexual tension between sausage giver and recipient but that it cannot be acted upon because there are Other Parties.
4. Pictures of the Underground Farmer's Market on Sunday including me channeling elderly lady romance novelist again. The German lady sitting next to me was ferociously hard selling. Every time I would sell an evil fridge magnet she would fix the purchaser with a basilisk glare and say "Und now you have bought something nasty, you must buy something sweet", thrusting a large chocolate covered nougat pascal lamb at them. She was actually very nice, just keen not to go home with 60 giant and slightly menacing easter confectionery effigies.
If you were to attend an alternative market, what would you sell? I will not accept anything involving cupcakes, jute, or hemp. Complete the phrase:
" ....... is the new cupcake"
and win the special waffle medal of valour.
I will add my own answers in the comments I think, once I have had more than three hours of sleep at a stretch. As it is, I am seconds away from falling asleep in an interesting combination of Anglomania dress, tracksuit bottoms and hoodie. Only the howling wind and my unbrushed teeth stand between me and these new sartorial depths.