The Lucyverse

THING: Controversial croissants My son is going to study law at university (my son, the lawyerrr!) and in preparation he has been following the real-life High Court case of JELLYCAT vs NEXT, a fierce legal battle over this croissant with a smiley face on it. Jellycat claims that Next has stolen their intellectual (in the loosest sense) property with this doorstop, and are suing them for substantial damages.

As August is a big, useless, boring, hairy perineum of a month, I think we might need an injection of high-octane capitalist junk into our veins to liven things up a bit. And who better to provide that than Temu, which is now preparing for Halloween. Capitalism’s sole purpose these days is to delete all the seasons so that you don’t notice that the world is sliding into Climate-aggedon.

THING: The Green Welly Stop If you venture up to the wild west coast of Scotland, you will find dramatic, rugged mountains, windswept moors, glistening lochs, frisky stags and quite a lot of bald men in outdoor gear who look a bit like Raoul Moat. And there’s also this: A talking welly sitting on a barrel, encouraging you to get hammered.

It’s Friday, and it’s too expensive to leave the house anymore, so let’s have a movie night! For my family, that means scrolling through an endless parade of shit films on apps that for some reason cost about £100 a month, before succumbing to decision paralysis, having a massive argument and spending the evening looking at our phones instead. The magic of Hollywood, eh?

THING: Exotic Escape Tic Tacs I’ve never understood Tic Tacs, not even as a child. What are they? Mints? Sweets? Pills? Pessaries? Baby teeth? Tic Tacs are problematic in many ways. They’re too small to suck and too hard to chew. They’re the exact same size as the indentations in your back molars. They’re a complete waste of sugary calories, and they don’t even make your breath fresh.

‘I’m writing in a cafe’ sounds really cool, doesn’t it? It conjures up images of writing your novel in Paris or New York. There’s Patti Smith over there, smoking a roll-up and scribbling her thoughts about Baudelaire into a Moleskine notebook.

THING: Crispy Cluck Confectionary, as you might have noticed, is not okay. In the race to make everything go viral, we have created a relentless mutant strain of sweets that can never be contained. You know those nostalgic jigsaws of retro treats, featuring a jaunty collage of Mars bars and Flakes, Anglo Bubbly and Sherbet Dib Dabs? Well, imagine what one of those would look like in 30 years’ time.

It’s Friday, and the world might be on fire but tomatoes are very good this year, aren’t they? Even though, like everything else in the supermarket, they cost a fortune. Also, I had a lovely pear the other day but let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We must not speak of autumnal fruits until at least September, when it’s time to stock up on Stacey Solomon at Asda boucle pumpkin doorstops, which, strangely enough, cost fuck all.

As I live in Glasgow, I thought I could do some on-the-ground reporting from the 2026 Commonwealth Games, but to be honest I haven’t actually noticed anything. I didn’t even realise the opening ceremony was on until I watched the news and saw King Charles and Queen Camilla coming out of a Tardis as a giant Tunnock’s teacake descended from the sky.

Hello, paid subscribers! Feels like I was only here yesterday! Actually, as well as becoming increasingly paranoid that Substack is actually just one big AI training camp that occasionally throws nice garden parties, I’m starting to feel like I’m in the newsletter equivalent of the Hunger Games.