I closed the door because my husband was prancing around on the outskirts of my office. Well, technically, he was sweeping the floor and doing laundry, but in Fruitloop language that is still prancing. Domestic ballet with a broom. Laundry choreography. The Mayor heard the noise, of course, because The Mayor hears everything that can…
Episode 47 begins in the usual state of Peeling Potatoes readiness: technically live, spiritually scattered, and administratively suspicious. The Mayor is trying to make windows smaller, find his questions, check the episode number, remember what day it is, and pretend that twenty-five prepared questions means he is in control. Fruitloop calmly reveals that she has…
They press the red button. There’s always that tiny moment—half technical check, half existential question—are we actually live? And then, like always, they are. “Okay… we’re live.” “Get rid of that message.” “Which message?” “The one saying we’re being recorded. After yesterday… I don’t trust anything.” And just like that, the tone is set. Not…
It starts slightly off-balance. “It does not feel natural,” the Mayor says, already suspicious of the entire setup.“It’s Wednesday.” Friday has been moved. Shifted. Pre-recorded out of respect for Good Friday. Sensible. Logical. And yet—completely wrong. Fruitloop, on the other hand, is already somewhere else entirely. “I’m going to take a duvet day.” Just like…
We are live. Slightly puzzled, because Zoom has clearly had a quiet little revolution overnight. There is a sign-in button where there wasn’t one before, AI companions hovering in corners, and somewhere between South Africa and France, two entirely different versions of Zoom seem to exist. But that feels strangely fitting, because this episode lives…
“Happy birthday to us.” It didn’t begin with a strategy. It didn’t begin with a business plan, a funnel, or a vision board carefully mapped out in bullet points. It began, as most meaningful things do, slightly off-key. A song. A laugh. A quick check—are we live?—and the quiet reassurance that yes, we are. Recording….
Three. Two. One. “We are live.” “We are live.” “Hello. Good morning.” “Good morning.” “Is it a good morning?” There is a small pause before the answer comes. The kind of pause that happens when someone glances out of the window before speaking. “Yes.” “Why?” “The sun is actually shining and I can hear the…
Rod Stewart, rogue pluckies, sticky notes, and the radical act of putting your phone in jail. And we were live. Hooray. Episode 37. And before we got anywhere near blocked gutters, indoor waterways, or the philosophy of decluttering, the Mayor decided that the moment called for something grand. Not sympathy. Not concern. Not even a…
Or: Wi-Fi, Excavators, Egg-Topped Burgers, and the Art of Not Losing Your Mind “Are we live, Fruitloop?”“We are live.” And like all responsible spiritual leaders, The Mayor immediately escalates. “Raise your hands. Middle finger and thumb together. Close your eyes. No cheating. Repeat after me. Episode 36. I will give the mayor grief.” Thus begins…
Weather whiplash, rock-paper-scissors romance, a French “duck,” and two stone giraffes on a wine shelf. “We are live. Good morning, Fruit.” “Good morning.” “Are we live? Come on.” “Yes, we are live.” “Hooray. We are live. Episode… uh… 30—” “35.” “I got it right! 35. Yes. Bingo. I checked it three days ago.” And just…
