Bucatini is a kind of pasta that's thicker than average and has a hole in the middle. This stunning display of culinary-architectural brilliance allows it to carry 200% of the pasta sauce load of your average spaghetti, making it popular among enthusiasts.

Also, it's super hard to find in the United States right now. Apparently this is because somebody has a beef with one of the primary importers / producers of bucatini in the US, La Cello, and brought their product to the attention of the FDA for violating an iron content regulation.

Their bucatini contained 2.1 milligrams of iron too little to be considered a macaroni (yes, macaroni, that's what we food heathens in the United States call it). The horror! Think of the children!

I bring this to your attention because these facts are shockingly uninteresting and boring. If I had to memorize them in history class, I would have undoubtedly have gotten an F minus on the quiz.

And yet these facts are stuck in my head like white on rice, despite how profoundly little they matter to me.

The cool thing is, I can tell you why.

I can also tell you why this post has been sitting on the front page of Hacker News all day (a tech news site, need I remind you, not a food channel).

Hint: it's the same reason.

The top comment on the Hacker News discussion for this post explains it succinctly:

The writing style is awesome, I literally laughed out loud. – sam_goody

In short, the article's voice is hilarious.

It's witty, endearing, authentic, relatable – so much so that it had the power to make me remember something totally inconsequential simply because of how it was presented.

If you don't believe me, see for yourself – I'll bet you read to the very end of the article (or at least you would have, if I didn't put this disclaimer – now you probably won't just because I postulated that you might – at least, I wouldn't if I were you).

If you want something to be remembered, say it in a memorable way. Mostly, humor does the trick (unless you're writing an obituary).

My personal takeaway is that I should take less pains to normalize my writing. I should be more comfortable with exposing my internal monologue to the cold hard air of the judgemental world. I think it just might help me to become a better writer.

It's also worth noting that this article set the tone within the first few sentences:

Things first began to feel off in March. While this sentiment applies to everything in the known and unknown universe, I mean it specifically in regard to America’s supply of dry, store-bought bucatini.

There aren't any humor jump-scares going on here, no sir. The author makes it clear what kind of article you're about to... experience, from the very beginning. This makes it easy for the boring people possessing sticks of poor internal alignment to bail, leaving only the easily-amused and the very bored still reading.

Finally, as with all things, I think writing humor well is something that only comes with intentional practice. I'm deciding to give it a shot here in this blog, partly because writing can be super boring if I'm not amusing myself with wordplay, but mainly because I want to get better at writing compelling things.

So, um, sorry in advance.