Wordle and other things that make you feel a failure on social media

WORDLE has swept social media, with daily posts of some green and yellow square bollocks. You can’t do it and fail in these ways too: 


Idiot, dunce, chump, moron, thick. All potential Wordle answers, and all describe your feeble attempts to join in a craze that’s ultimately some crossword bullshit. But at least you don’t depend on internet strangers for validation and self-worth. Utter twats, total arses, sheer knobs.

Being single

What was the point of being in love before Facebook? When you couldn’t shout every ‘quiet night in with this one’ to the world? And if you’re single? No one wants to see a post about how you went out alone, watched a sunset alone, went home alone and slept alone. There are algorithms custom-designed to hide that depressing shit.

Being a single man without a dog

If you’re a single man, your dog is your lone route to keeping your dignity. It has to be a proper man’s dog, a Labrador with an outdoorsy name like Bracken or Flint that you can take on long walks. Pictures of the pair of you atop a mountain looking pensively to the horizon will get likes. Without the dog? Sad.

Viral dances

Everything’s TikTok now, and every twat out there’s doing the latest moves to a rescued 80s pop song proving to the world they’ve got smooth hips and great rhythm. You’ve barely mastered clapping and look like a seal amped up on a gram of cocaine.

Not being rabidly partisan

Hardcore right-wingers who turn every minor incident into a resounding win for Boris rack up the likes. Hardcore left-wingers who still believe the Great, Decent Corbyn will one day return from the wilderness to redeem us all rack up the retweets. Meanwhile you, with your pathetically centrist views, are held in contempt by all.


Friends show off photos of themselves sipping cocktails by infinity pools in Bali. Your holiday photos are from a weekend in a freezing cottage in the Peak District. Sure, your fiscal prudence will pay off when they can’t afford to fill the car in three months, but that doesn’t stop you looking the wanker now.

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Why Pepper is stealing a f**king living, by Salt

SALT here, king of the condiments, the wonderful white stuff that makes everything better. You know who I resent? My workshy colleague, pepper. 

Me and him have been synonymous for years like Ant and Dec, gin and tonic or R2-D2 and C-3PO. But look at the facts. I’ve been carrying him our entire f**king career.

I’m not being boastful when I say I’m a big deal in food. Most seasonings add a little flavour. I enhance everything. I make meat meatier. I make bland soups edible. Chips would be shit if it wasn’t for me.

And it doesn’t end in the kitchen. I’ve been used as currency. I preserve dead bodies. I keep ice off roads. And don’t even get me started on how much I do for the oceans.

Meanwhile, what’s pepper doing except making stuff more peppery? What would you rather add ? The seasoning that unlocks and intensifies the incredible flavours at the core of any food it touches, or the weird black shit that burns and makes you sneeze?

And yet, despite his astoundingly limited offering, I’m sharing top billing with the prick every time. Wherever you go you’ll find that jammy bastard by my side.

All I’m saying is, let’s give something else a chance. Let cumin pick up a shift or two. Let turmeric sit in for a weekend. Give any spice that doesn’t insist on being cracked a turn.

F**k pepper. He’s had his chance and nobody likes him. Stick him in the back of the condiment cupboard where the moody bastard belongs.