Insurance agency 'Hollow Cost' was a close second.

Imagine, if you will, that you have decided to open some sort of shop for joggers. I don't know why you would want to, perhaps you like serving fit freaks, but just imagine for a second that you have the motivation. Now, what should you call this venture? What name would perfectly convey the nature of your wares and the service your outlet provides?

Hmm, this is tricky. It's definitely something that you would need to spend a long time mulling over - after all, this isn't the sort of decision to make lightly, is it? Whatever you pick has to be memorable, concise, a little bit clever, and definitely not at all like this:

For all your perspiration needs!

Ouch. They really did not think that one through, did they? That seriously has to be the all-time winner of the Worst Branding Ever Award. I mean, associations of labourers working for pennies a day in miserable conditions aside, the name is so vague that they have to clarify what they do with a subtitle. That's how much confidence they have in their company name. You don't see Waterstones and their like captioning their signs with 'we do books'.

This shop's slogan is 'we know running'. Not only does that incredibly undersell their stores, it also gives the impression that the place is a consultancy. Without the logline, it suggests that bags of sweat are for sale. With it, it sounds like they give advice on what stretches are best before marathons. It's a terrible name.

Think I can't come up with a better one? Well, I can. I would have gone for something quirky like Legs on Toast, or, if they just sold shoes, Personal Trainers. You could even go for something sexy like Truth or Lycra - that one would appeal to the buff superhero buffs.

Seriously, go with any of those, and this shop would be every runner's first place.

All I know for sure is scientists have way too much time on their hands.

In theory, brevity is supposedly the soul of wit, but, in the case of Twitter, it sure can get mighty frustrating, especially when it means a quick bit of trivia goes by without an explanation. See, I'm partial to such factoids, but often they aren't accompanied by their sources, thus when I read something like the following from the QI elves feed, I invariably have questions:

Turkey vultures injected with enough botulinum toxin to kill 300,000 guinea pigs show no ill-effects at all.

Okay, for starters, why are these birds being botoxed? Are our feathered friends, like us, concerned about fighting the seven signs of aging, or is this simply the result of an impromptu syringe fight staged in the lab at lunch? If the former, then it's good to see that peer pressure isn't solely confined to humans. If the latter, then let's hold a minute silence for any animal brethren caught in the crossfire.

Speaking of which, the guinea pigs. Now, did the brainiacs behind this fact simply calculate the amount needed to kill one and then multiply it accordingly, or did they in fact inject three hundred thousand of the little furry things in order to see if the dosage worked out the same? Regardless, either way, somewhere there must be the ghosts of all these guineas who died in the line of science.

Well, I say 'science', but I'm not exactly sure what we can gain from this experiment besides from a bloody good idea about what won't take down a turkey vulture, and that sort of information won't be useful until the inevitable bird uprising, circa 3015. Until then, what have we got? A load of dead guinea pigs. Brilliant. Anyone need a mousepad?

As for whether Leonardo DiCaprio was really a passenger, we'll never know...

In the last week or so, some people on Twitter (or, as I believe the term is, 'tweeple') have come under metaphorical fire for admitting that they had no idea that the Titanic disaster was not an invention of James Cameron, and was, in fact, real. They have faced a lot of criticism (or, as I believe the term is, 'twiticism') over such ignorance, but can you really blame them for not knowing?

I mean, it's not as if the Titanic makes headlines anymore - it's not exactly topical. Well, except for the last few weeks in which we've been building up to the 100th anniversary, plus anytime any new artifacts are found, but still, if you don't read the papers, where else would you have learnt that it was not a work of fiction?

School? Sure, you might get a module on it, but what if you missed that term due to having rabies, scabies, or babies? The only thing you'd be left in no doubt to whether it's real is the Nazis. Honestly, every other year, pupils sit through another explanation of how they came to power. It's almost as if the government feels compelled to remind us not to be evil. Anyway, would you rather kids believe that Schindler's List is just some black and white film, than ensure they know that Kate Winslet was lucky to survive a sinking that claimed one thousand, five hundred and fourteen lives?

Seriously, if people aren't reading papers and missed that particular class, is it really that bad that they don't know Titanic is based on reality? I mean, it's not as if there's footage of the actual wreck included within the movie itself...

Oh wait, there is. Well, in that case, some people are just stupid.

All I wanted was a bus of tea.

This morning, I was wolf up by bomb's nun.

Confused? Well, according to predictive text, you shouldn't be as, naturally, some of those are the words you'd most likely be trying to spell. I mean, you're far more likely to be discussing women of the cloth over, say, your mum, right? (By which I mean mentioning your mum with greater frequency than you do nuns. I'm not implying you chat about a mother/mother superior tryst.) Seriously, rarely a text conversation between my peers and myself goes by without at least half a dozen references to nuns and their dirty habits.

As for that bomb, well, it's no wonder we're constantly on high alert from terrorists. All I wanted to do was text my friend Anna, but no, according to my phone, what I obviously intended to write was 'bomb'. You know me so well, mobile. I'm constantly asking whether explosives would like to go shopping or have a picnic on the beach, aren't I? Oh yeah, I truly like to literally play with fire, me. I'm precisely that kind of guy.

Mind you, the phone's paranoia doesn't extend to modern hazards, oh no. It also includes threats from ravenous beasts as well. 'Wolf' precedes 'woke' in its vocabulary, thus suggesting that my mobile has judged the frequency of word usage entirely on the works of the Brothers Grimm. Honestly, the notion that I would ever need to text someone about a slobbering carnivorous mutt is preposterous. The very idea is - wait, is that howling? Ah, I might just message someone to say I need picking up...

"Shaking up"?

Damn you, predictive text, damn you.

On second thoughts, let's not meet the Muppets...

The Muppets are pretty sweet, right? They're a lovable, friendly bunch of try-hards with hearts of gold who just want to put on a good show. The appeal of their amusing antics crosses generations worldwide. They represent plain ole wholesome family fun. All in all, they're adorable.

Or so I thought until coming face to face with the following in a toy outlet recently:

Obviously one heckle too many had made Fozzie snap.

Honestly, that's terrifying. When comedians claim to have 'killed' at successful gigs, I used to doubt that's intended literally. Judging by Fozzie's expression, I'm now not so sure. Seriously, I don't know whether the designers were going for vengeful aggression, but my goodness, that's certainly what they've achieved. You definitely wouldn't want that in bed next to you.

On the plus side, if you're ever looking for a gift for someone you hate...