Pete Cashmore: Political peril, sexist Santa, my app addiction and a cold spell

There's just nothing else really going on next to Trump. All I can think about is Trump.

Is anyone else completely terrified about the possibility of this man becoming the most powerful man on Earth? Let's just take a moment to sum up his credentials. He is demonstrably a racist, likewise a misogynist, apparently a sex offender, dislikes two entire races who live in the same country as him, has admitted to fancying HIS OWN DAUGHTER and can't even do Twitter well without messing things up. All of the other stuff you can forgive but if you can't do social media properly then we can't very well put you in charge of the United States.

Here's an idea. The United States is the most powerful place on the planet and who gets to run it impacts us all – there's a very real chance that if he gets in, a Third World War will start and none of us really want that. In these situations, the rest of the world should be allowed to vote.

Logistically it might be a bit tricky but we should be allowed to have our say. We can't allow a nation as dim as the Americans to be trusted with this decision.

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You may remember that a couple of weeks ago, in this very column, I discussed the fact that Halloween outfits for dogs had been deemed sexist and, in not so many words, advanced the theory that we are all doomed as a species if we think this.

Well, if there's one thing you can rely on in this world, it's that people can always get more ridiculous than you think. And here's why. . . Somebody somewhere has said that Secret Santa is sexist.

Yes, you heard correctly, I did not make that up. Apparently, the act of buying somebody a present in the office reinforces gender role stereotypes. Apparently, we are guilty of buying gifts that actually might, shock horror, be appropriate for the gender of the person for which they are intended.

Apparently, if we get a present that might be appreciated by a woman, for a woman, then we are reinforcing the patriarchy.

Secret Santa? SEXIST Santa, more like.

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Did you know that Wednesday was International Gin And Tonic Day?

It was. Apparently, on Wednesday we were meant to show our appreciation for gin and tonic, presumably by drinking lots of gin and tonic.

Leaving aside the fact that such days are in danger of turning us all into drunks, it begs the question: Does everything have a day now? For the life of me, I cannot think of a single thing that doesn't have its own day.

To give you a random example, there is a National Artichoke Hearts Day. Not just artichokes, specifically their hearts. It's March 16, in case you were wondering.

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Time for a confession: I am utterly, painfully addicted to Candy Crush Saga.

If you are not familiar with Candy Crush Saga, I should explain that it is a phone app game that is so addictive that it makes Tetris seem as dull as ditchwater.

Once you have started on Candy Crush Saga, it's impossible to stop. You will go to sleep dreaming of Candy Crush Saga. You will start seeing Candy Crush Saga flashing before your eyes in your daily life.

To give you an idea of how addictive Candy Crush Saga is, I am currently on level 1,734 and I have no intention of stopping. Yes, 1,734 levels. And at no point has it occurred to me that I might be playing it a bit too much.

Anyway, the reason for me talking about all this is that apparently Candy Crush Saga is being made into a game show. I have no idea how this is going to work at all, but they're doing it.

And really, if they can make Deal Or No Deal, a game show which requires no skill or intelligence at all, into a game show, then they ought to be able to make Candy Crush Saga work.

I shall be filling in my application form as soon as they become available.

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I always end up talking about Twitter in this column, but Twitter pretty much informs my entire worldview, and here it is again. Sorry everybody.

So I saw a very amusing tweet the other day, which consisted of image grabs of a certain national newspaper (here's a clue – it's the first half of this newspaper's name) on an identical day from 2013, 2014, 2015 and 2016, all leading with the headline, 'Snowiest winter on record expected', or words to that effect.

It seems like the good people of that particular newspaper have some kind of obsession with the potential for snow. And indeed have a day set aside for revealing it.

Now, as someone who is of a fuller figure and therefore suits chunky knitwear, I hope that this is indeed the case and that the snowiest winter on record is expected.

I always think that there are two kinds of people, summer people and winter people, and I am very much the latter.

But this spectacular ice age never happens. In 2014 it was a bit parky but the other ones never materialised.

So here's an idea for the newspaper in question: instead of getting all our hopes up and predicting a cold snap that never happens, instead run a story about how the coming winter will be an unseasonal heatwave.

Then, you won't leave us disappointed when it doesn't happen, and you won't leave us surprised when it does.

Just stop getting our hopes up, most people love a bit of snow and are fed up with the disappointment.

By Pete Cashmore