Carl Vs Reality

Right, so, we’re talking McDonald’s breakfast. I know, I know—people judge, don’t they? But there’s something about a hash brown in bed on a Sunday that just feels right. Or it did, until I—a lifelong vegetarian—was handed a bag that was basically just a heavy, greasy pile of triple-sausage-meat-monstrosities. Who even orders three patties and no egg? I want to meet that person. I think we’d have words.In this episode of Carl vs Reality, I’m having a bit of a natter about the sheer, baffling chaos of food delivery apps. We’re diving into the mystery of the driver with the "Warning: Fart Loading" T-shirt (I mean, aren't we all?), the strange gift of an Elton John Watford stadium shirt, and the time I learned the hard way that if you don't tip, your Dr Pepper might just become a tactical explosive. It’s a bit of a mess, really. A bit like life, but with more fizzy drink on the ceiling and the cat questioning its life choices.Spread the word, leave a like, and try not to explode your own beverages. Ta-ta for now.

Reality is a construct of perception. Carl is a construct of coffee and bad life choices. Here they meet in Carl versus Reality.Salutations! Today, you’ve caught me mid-chore. I’m doing the washing up, so if you’ve got a pile of crusty plates staring you down, grab the Fairy Liquid and we’ll do 'em together. A job shared is a job halved, or so they say. Probably someone who didn't have a cat trying to trip them up on the stairs.Speaking of which, we need to talk about Biscuit. He’s my cat, and I’m 90% sure he’s an assassin. Between the "staircase trip-wire" manoeuvres and the 4:00 AM throat-kneading, I’m living in a domestic thriller. I thought it was affection; turns out it might just be a slow-motion coup.I also get into the absolute state of my workplace because I dared to wear glasses and—heaven forbid—blue jeans. Turns out, if you change one minor detail about your appearance after twenty years, people lose their minds. It’s been a week of "Oh, new glasses?" and "Where are your black jeans, Carl?" Honestly, it’s a lot to take in when you’re just trying to get through the day without being choked out by a feline.In this episode:Chore-core: Doing the dishes together for moral support.Feline Assassins: Why Biscuit is the Wiley Coyote to my Roadrunner.The Great Spectacle Debate: Transitioning from contact lenses back to frames.Wardrobe Malfunctions: The social consequences of wearing blue denim.If you want to support the madness, get among it at carlvsreality.com. All the links for TikTok, YouTube, and the rest are there.Take care of yourselves. And watch your step on the stairs.Ta-ta.

Reality is a construct, but this cold I’ve had? That was very, very real. I’ve finally emerged from the duvet fortress, armed with some herbal supplements and my trusty Tascam, to go for a bit of a ramble. And by ramble, I mean both the physical act of walking through the mud and the mental act of talking absolute nonsense into a microphone.I’m currently perched in a tree—don’t ask, it felt right at the time—somewhere about a mile and a half from civilisation. It’s freezing, I’m wearing a shacket (it’s a shirt, it’s a jacket, it’s a revolution), and I’m pondering the big questions. Like, why am I becoming less of a hermit as I get older? Why are there still unexploded bombs from the 40s lurking under Great Yarmouth? And would the Pearly Kings really be that offended if they just used a hot glue gun instead of sewing all those buttons?It’s a bit of a look at mental health, the peace of the Norfolk/Suffolk wilderness, and the strange things you think about when you see a bloke with a metal detector. Come join me for a freezing cold natter in the woods.

It’s been snowing in England. You know the drill: the country grinds to a halt, and we all forget how to use our legs. In this episode, I’m nursing my second cold in a month (ridiculous, I know) and pondering the sheer terror of walking on a frozen pavement. Why do we all walk in the same spot until it’s a sheet of glass? I’m 41, I can’t be doing with a broken hip just because I wanted to hear that "crunch" under my boots.I also dive into the weird world of my subconscious. We’re talking full-on fever dreams involving a heist at Nintendo HQ, security guards dressed as Romans (very Life of Brian), and a dramatic escape through the Mushroom Kingdom's plumbing.Plus, a cautionary tale about why you shouldn't mess with another man's Lego. It doesn't end well for the Lego, or my membership at the club.In this episode:The Great British Snow-Panic: Why we’re obsessed with the "crunch" and the etiquette of snowball fights with children.Fever Dreams & Freud: Do dreams actually mean anything, or is it just my brain misfiring because of a blocked nose?The Nintendo Heist: My subconscious attempt to steal 90s retro cartridges from a basement full of green pipes.Lego Club Drama: A story of creative integrity and why smashing a rival's build is a one-way ticket to being chased out the door.The Cold Cycle: Living through the "two colds in a month" phenomenon.Grab a brew (I’m on the herbal tea, trying to survive) and join me for a natter about the absurdity of reality.Keywords: UK snow, winter weather, retro gaming, Nintendo heist, Lego, dream interpretation, fever dreams, British podcast, casual chat, Carl Versus Reality.

This week I talk about a tiny moment that dragged me out of a bit of a funk — I got lollipop-ladied for the very first time in my life. At 41. And honestly, it made my entire week.From there I somehow end up diving into the world of micro-artists, including a guy in Bournemouth who makes sculptures so small he once inhaled one. I reflect on why anyone would choose a job where a single heartbeat can ruin everything, and briefly consider whether the grit in your eye might actually be a masterpiece.It’s a gentle, slightly baffled wander through my brain — basically, a normal episode of Carl vs Reality.

This week on Carl vs Reality, I end up in a perfectly nice pub… except for the small matter of a dog repeatedly treating the place like its own personal gas chamber. Very British evening out, really — everyone pretending nothing’s happening while quietly dying inside.After that, I fall down yet another AI rabbit hole. Not by choice, honestly — the world keeps chucking this stuff at me. This time it’s an “AI-enabled teddy bear” that managed to get itself pulled off the shelves for… well… reasons. The sort of reasons that make you stare at the wall for a second and wonder what planet we’re on.So I talk pubs, dogs, dodgy tech, and how we’ve somehow reached a point where a stuffed toy needs a safety audit. Just the usual light nonsense.If you fancy it, I’m chucking clips up on TikTok, Instagram, and YouTube — same name, Carl vs Reality. Always appreciated.