Every so often my brain wakes me up to pitch me something. Last week it was a business idea — a subscription service for, and I want to be precise here, slightly damp towels. I sat up, grabbed my phone, and typed three paragraphs of notes with the confidence of a man who has never run a business.

By 9am the idea had the structural integrity of a wet paper towel itself. But I’ve learned not to dismiss these 3am flashes entirely — buried in the nonsense is usually one real thought worth keeping. This time it was: I should probably just buy nicer towels.

Anyway. Here’s to bad ideas at bad hours. They keep things interesting.