Hello and thank you for joining me for another episode of Carl vs Reality! I’m currently hunkered down in my podcasting tree—it’s freezing cold, the full range of winter weather is hitting me at once, but honestly? I wouldn’t have it any other way.

This week, I’m reflecting on my recent holiday to Center Parcs. Now, I love a bit of "faux nature" as much as the next guy (woods with a Starbucks? Sign me up), but the highlight—or perhaps the lowlight—was our spa morning.

Spas are strange, aren't they? We pay good money to sit in rooms that are either too damp or way too hot, all while walking around in nothing but a robe. Within seconds of entering the changing room, I was already on the back foot (let's just say I saw more of a fellow guest than I had planned for).

In this episode, I’m diving into the weird world of spa etiquette, from the couples having hushed arguments about dinner to the people who insist on bringing their phones into a "disconnect" zone. I also chat about:

• The Plunge Pool Challenge: Is it "cryo-therapy" or just a "who’s the most manly" competition?
• Hippie Habits: My experience with flotation tanks (and the one thing they don’t tell you about feeling seasick while tripping balls like Lisa Simpson).
• The Winter Shorts Mystery: Why do blokes insist on wearing shorts in a blizzard? I’ve officially started a policy of not acknowledging them.
• Backyard Zen: My failed attempts at recreating the spa atmosphere at home while living next to a playground full of mopeds.

Whether you're a "card-carrying hippie" like me or you just want to know what a spa breakfast (poached eggs on sourdough, if you're curious) looks like, grab a warm drink and join me in the tree.

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So, I’ve started doing these "Morning Pages." You know the ones—where you write three pages of absolute drivel first thing in the morning to see what’s lurking in your subconscious. Turns out, what’s lurking in mine is a deep-seated discomfort with "blokey blokes" and some fairly specific trauma involving public urinals.

In this episode, I’m unpacking why the 90s "lad culture" was a bit of a disaster for people like me, and why I’ve ended up with a bladder that’s apparently too shy to function in a pub. We’re talking about the horror of the "power stance," the weird graffiti you find in cubicles, and—God help us—the time I saw a man taking a grunting dump with the door wide open. Honestly, I still see him around. We make eye contact. It’s a lot to process.

It’s a bit of a messy one today. Literally. If you’ve ever felt intimidated by a contractor or wondered why some men refuse to wash their hands, this one's for you.

Warning: Contains a lot of talk about... well, toilets. You've been told.

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Right, so, we’re talking McDonald’s breakfast. I know, I know—people judge, don’t they? But there’s something about a hash brown in bed on a Sunday that just feels right. Or it did, until I—a lifelong vegetarian—was handed a bag that was basically just a heavy, greasy pile of triple-sausage-meat-monstrosities. Who even orders three patties and no egg? I want to meet that person. I think we’d have words.

In this episode of Carl vs Reality, I’m having a bit of a natter about the sheer, baffling chaos of food delivery apps. We’re diving into the mystery of the driver with the "Warning: Fart Loading" T-shirt (I mean, aren't we all?), the strange gift of an Elton John Watford stadium shirt, and the time I learned the hard way that if you don't tip, your Dr Pepper might just become a tactical explosive. It’s a bit of a mess, really. A bit like life, but with more fizzy drink on the ceiling and the cat questioning its life choices.

Spread the word, leave a like, and try not to explode your own beverages. Ta-ta for now.

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