There’s something uniquely Australian about stepping out of a steaming hot shower on a cold winter morning, only to be greeted by a towel that feels like it’s been stored in a meat locker. It’s one of those small miseries that we just accept as part of life, like waiting for the 96 tram on a rainy Tuesday or watching the Demons lose a game they should have won.

But recently, I’ve been following an interesting discussion online about electric towel rails, and it’s got me thinking about those small creature comforts that can make a genuine difference to our daily lives. The conversation started with someone asking for advice on portable electric towel rails – which brands offer the best bang for your buck, running costs, that sort of thing. What followed was a fascinating mix of practical advice, energy calculations, and some surprisingly passionate advocacy for warm towels.

Been scrolling through rental listings lately and honestly, it’s like browsing through a collection of fairy tales. The latest push for cracking down on AI-enhanced real estate photos has got me thinking about just how far we’ve let this industry slide into outright deception.

The thing is, artificial intelligence isn’t really the villain here – it’s just the latest tool in a decades-long con game. Real estate agents have been photoshopping properties since digital cameras became mainstream. I remember when my wife and I were hunting for our first place together, we’d rock up to inspections only to find rooms that looked nothing like the online photos. The “spacious living area” turned out to be a cramped box, and that “lush garden” was basically a patch of weeds with some very creative colour correction.

There’s something deeply satisfying about watching a grimy, forgotten piece of cookware transform into something beautiful again. I stumbled across this fascinating discussion online about someone who rescued a Berghoff pot from what I assume was a thrift store, and the transformation was nothing short of miraculous. The before and after photos reminded me why I’m so passionate about giving discarded items a second life.

The hero of this story? Something called “The Pink Stuff” – a cleaning paste that apparently works miracles. I’ll admit, I’d never heard of it before, but the enthusiastic testimonials from users were compelling. One person joked it could “probably fix a broken marriage,” while another claimed it saved their relationship when they thought their husband had ruined a copper pan. The community around this cleaning product seems genuinely excited about its capabilities, and that kind of genuine enthusiasm is infectious.

There’s something deeply satisfying about seeing developers grumble about Victoria while simultaneously watching our state outperform the rest of Australia on housing delivery. Call it schadenfreude if you like, but when property developers are complaining about a jurisdiction, there’s a decent chance that jurisdiction is actually prioritising people over profit margins.

The numbers tell a compelling story. Victoria is building 2.2 homes per 1000 people each quarter, compared to the national average of 1.6. We’re on track to hit 98% of our national housing target while NSW languishes at 65%. Melbourne house prices have flatlined while Sydney, Brisbane, and Canberra have shot through the roof. Yet developers are apparently telling each other “ABV” - Anywhere But Victoria.

Scrolling through tech news this morning, I came across something that made me both hopeful and deeply frustrated at the same time. Google’s rolling out a new feature in Android 16 that can detect fake cell towers - those sneaky “stingray” devices that law enforcement and other actors use to intercept your phone communications. On one hand, it’s brilliant that our phones might finally warn us when we’re being spied on. On the other hand, the fact that we need this protection at all says everything about the surveillance state we’re living in.

The Supreme Court’s recent 6-3 decision allowing states to limit access to online pornography has been rattling around in my head for days now. What started as discussions about “protecting children” has quickly revealed itself to be something far more concerning - the systematic dismantling of internet freedom, one state at a time.

The predictable partisan split on the court tells us everything we need to know about how politicised the highest judicial body in America has become. When someone pointed out the irony of certain justices’ own histories with pornography, it perfectly encapsulated the hypocrisy at play here. We’re seeing “rules for thee, but not for me” written into constitutional law.

The news hit the tech forums this week like a quiet thud rather than a dramatic crash - Readarr, the book automation tool that many of us relied on for managing our digital libraries, has officially been retired. The GitHub repository is now archived, and the developers have thrown in the towel, citing unusable metadata, lack of time, and a stalled community effort to transition to Open Library.

It’s one of those moments that makes you pause and think about the fragility of the open source ecosystem we’ve all come to depend on. Here’s a project that filled a genuine need - automating book downloads and library management in the same way that Sonarr handles TV shows and Radarr manages movies. Yet despite its usefulness, it’s now joining the digital graveyard of abandoned projects.

The tech world loves a good release date drama, and DeepSeek’s decision to delay their R2 model has certainly given us one. But scrolling through the reactions online, I’m struck by something refreshing – the overwhelming support for taking the time to get it right.

It’s fascinating to watch how different communities respond to delays. When a major gaming studio pushes back a release, the internet explodes with outrage. When Apple delays a product launch, shares tumble. But here we have DeepSeek, a Chinese AI company, delaying what would presumably be their next flagship model, and the response from users is essentially “let them cook.”

Had a conversation with a mate the other day about job hunting, and it reminded me why I’ve developed such a healthy skepticism of recruitment agencies over the years. Someone shared a story online about being dragged into the city for an interview, only to be told upfront that the job had already been filled - but hey, let’s chat anyway so I can “get to know you.” Sound familiar? Unfortunately, it does to me too.

I’ve been following the debate around Jim Chalmers’s proposed superannuation reforms with fascination, particularly the story about farmers supposedly “scrambling for answers” when faced with the prospect of paying more tax on their multi-million dollar super balances. The more I dig into this, the more it becomes clear we’re witnessing the death throes of what can only be described as a spectacular tax rort.

Let’s cut through the noise here. The ABC story features a farming family with a combined super balance of $5.5 million who are upset they might have to pay an extra $120,000 in tax annually. But here’s the kicker - if they’re paying $120,000 in tax, they’re making over a million dollars a year through their super fund. And they’re complaining about this?