What were they thinking?

What is it with those concertina Post-Its? You know the ones- they're stuck in alternating fashion; top, bottom, top, bottom, etc. Everytime I go to peel one off, it seems I pick the wrong end. Then when I DO pick the right end, the whole thing concertinas (new verb) away from my hand, like I'm performing some magician's card flourish. There is zero practical value here, folks. Only frustration, tears, anger and, in extreme cases, death. (Oh I dunno- everything can kill you these days, can't it?) What were they thinking?

My other favourite is the stainless steel milk pourer. The kind that is mass produced and you find brought to you when ordering coffee somewhere. This particular animal (for it is wild indeed) has the suggestion of a spout. Not a real spout, just the hint of one. Like the subtle whiff of perfume in an elevator someone's long exited. The genius who invented it (he must be a genius- he's affected millions of us) didn't want the white fluid to run smoothly from spout to cup. No. Unlike any sane inventor who designs a tool to make our lives easier, our mad milkman's spout ensures that it is near impossible to effect the very outcome for which it was intended. The milk has a 97% chance of trickling down the pourer with the precise velocity and volume to saturate critical documents lying beneath it, or soiling darkly coloured pants with the added bonus of mmmmm.... stinky drying milk. That 97% chance is a conservative estimate, by the way, as I have only succeeded in avoiding these premeditated (the genius, remember?) "accidents" twice in my life. And I drink a LOT of coffee.

So who's to blame? Will we ever be able to pinpoint the precise individuals responsible for money blown on dry cleaning bills or the hours of productivity lost in playing sticky paper fingers? The answer, of course, is no. But it's nice to dream...