Something that has been most upon my mind in recent times, along with why nothing else gets to 88 miles an hour and travels through time yet. Why are a lot of things marketed for two?

You wouldn’t be so sure just on the casual glancing about this fair old place of ours, but consider the following;

Food is a prime example to begin with, considering that people passing by have mistaken me for Jabba the hutt before now. Wander into any supermarket of your choice and you will find a myriad of meals in ready form, and while some appear to have been pushed down a tube in a slightly presentable manner, on the whole, they resemble the contents of an autopsy.

The value ranges are often the best example of this ranging from Spaghetti with severed arm to the ever popular chilli con canary, however given that the contents inside are worth about 4p, it’s amazing that no-one has mutated to form a toxic crusade against Tesco’s Chicken pasta bake.

The portion sizes are basically laughable as well, when you look at what is the typical meal for one, it’s barely enough to digest without leaving you hungry for more.

Perhaps the size of it all is wonderful for those on diets, you get to even feel better because those calorie numbers are all so low, but as I cannot even begin to tell such a tremendous lie like “I’m on a diet.”, there is a certain sense of guilt in that, you’re eating more that what was allotted, therefore what is wrong with you?

It would make more sense buying everything separately and then expending hours making it all yourself, but you would end up eating the same thing for the next 7 weeks, such is the amount sold for ingredients. Plus, you have to know how to cook in the first place, and the last thing you cooked was classed as a weapon of mass constipation. Step away from the pan….

Therefore surely for one person, the tiny contents of the single serving plastic coffins should then be increased to be more than enough to quench that hunger that has been brewing since you had a sleep at your desk that very afternoon? No? You make me sick reaching for that extra slice of cake.

The idea that us single folk are frowned upon can be extended to all sorts of things, if you were to look for a holiday out to some far off land, be it sailing up the Amazon, tying the local natives to use as a raft, or a fantastic sexy role-playing holiday in Scotland where you drink, vomit and lose a fight to anything that’s been fried to death, you’ll notice that all of the pricing is based on 2 sharing.

The damned posters for holidays are worse, as they feature overly happy men and women enjoying themselves, almost as if they have found the meaning of life and can laugh at the rest of us, standing there, in the bitter cold rain pouring over our stone skin, just starting at them and wanting them to meet a bloody end with to a lawnmower.

Of course, if you were thinking because it’s just you going to the wonderful world of oz for a break from the pain and misery of it all, that surely for one person, the price would be halved? Oh my poor fools, do you not see?

Because they haven’t been able to shove in as many people as possible into the same room and you’re just wasting all that space with your trinkets, there is always a surcharge or you pay the same price as if two people were staying there, thus ensuring that the broken husks who shy away from human contact and the whole business of finding someone who pretends to care, are therefore punished for their current status.

The punishment comes in the alternative known as “adventure” holidays, which involves you trying to make small talk about salad to a bunch of strangers who also happen to be stuck without anyone else to go with to places as well.

But is it worth it laughing at some bloke dressed like a fruit cocktail, talk about why his pet rabbit had a poo for the 100th time just in order to get the price down to a reasonable level? Not to mention the best thing most of them get to do while on this epic time of their lives is a trip to the local dust museum.

Council tax is a rather odd example to bring up, but again for living in a place by yourself, thus ensuring that another day will pass by without another murder rampage because some bast*rd house mate p*ssing on the cheese, not it’s not 50% off, it’s just 25% off what you would pay.

So in essence you must pay for your crimes of singleton because society thinks you’re probably too busy enjoying yourself not worrying about what someone else thinks and therefore have lots of free cash when couples don’t. Bastard.