Tag: christmas

7 Reasons To Personalise Your Own Christmas Cards

With just a matter of weeks to go before Christmas, why not do things differently this year? Why not get organised and avoid the mad mid-December rush? One way to avoid the inevitable queue is to use Hallmark Cards and their online personalised Christmas card service. Need convincing? Time to read on.

1. From Me, To You. Let’s begin with the obvious. A personalised card is just that. Unique in every way. Unless someone else also writes, “Dear Lucy, Merry Christmas, Love From Samuel. PS: I’ll try not to put your wooden leg on the fire this year!”. But let’s be honest, that’s highly unlikely. A personalised card means more. It means you have actually given it some thought. It means you haven’t just run down to the petrol station and bought the last copy of that magazine with free Christmas cards attached. That’s the true spirit of Christmas right there.

2. Technophobes. If your parents are from an era before technology took over the world, why not have some fun with them this Christmas? On opening a card and seeing it printed, “Dear Dad, Love From Charlotte,” your father will almost certainly ask you how your name is printed inside. You can either tell him that you went around the country in search of a card with the name Charlotte in it – which will impress him and make him feel loved no end – or you can explain that it’s an intellicard. Basically, that’s a card that uses remarkable technology to decipher the name of both sender and recipient simply by touch. And yes, an intelligence is particularly good if you’ve just bought your Dad socks. Again. He’ll ignore his present and be baffled by the card for hours.

3. Something For All. Finding suitable Christmas cards for different people gets harder and harder each year. Using Hallmark’s personalised service though, you can be sure that you are going to get the right card for the right person. There are traditional cards for those who celebrate Christmas as a religious festival, bright and colourful cards for those who use it as an excuse to party and an OK magazine card for the celebrity addict in the family. Who, incidentally, should be shut in a room by themselves for the day. Probably with Katie Price’s latest picture book.

4. Attention To Detail. This reason probably applies for the more haphazard sex, but we won’t discount women. For many people a card is the last thing they think about buying. Usually five minutes before the shops close on Christmas Eve. As a result they fly into the nearest retailer and pick up the first one they see. Then they get home and realise it says ‘sister’, ‘aunt’ or ‘my little fantasy’ instead of ‘wife’. Not good. Get online and use Hallmark’s personalised Christmas cards service. It’ll help you concentrate the mind and make sure you won’t spend most of Christmas morning trying to cover up the word ‘secretary’ with a felt tip pen.

5. Children. Toy manufacturers make a killing at Christmas. Not literally, obviously. As Herod demonstrated, that would be wrong. We mean they make a lot of money. Simply by making children want toys they don’t need. It’s genius. But very expensive for the parents. So this year don’t give them a present. Give them a card that’s better than a present. Thanks to Hallmark Cards your child can now star alongside Woody and Buzz on a Christmas card. Your children won’t want a present, they’ll want to know when Toy Story 4 is coming out. (It should be said this will only work with young children. By the time they’re 24 they’re fairly wise to that sort of thing).

6. Words and Pictures. Why is it that whenever you find a card with a half-decent design, the words inside always read, “Merry Christmas to the one I love, you keep me warm and snug on the sheepskin rug”? Similarly, you might find a verse that doesn’t make you vomit all over the card rack, but the front of the card says, “To my step-mum’s sister’s daughter’s boyfriend”. You can’t give that to your brother – unless he is your brother we suppose. It’s far better to get online, choose the design you want and write the wants you need to say.

7. This Is Us! You know those sickly yearly newsletters that you in get in Christmas cards from some families – the one that tells you Tarquin went Zambia on his gap year and set up a water buffalo sanctuary – well, a personalised card is perfect retribution. On many of the cards you can add a photo, and with so many photo editing packages out there it would seem rude not to show the smug ones exactly where you’ll be that Christmas. Nestled above an accompanying photo should be the words, “Merry Christmas From Sir Richard Branson’s Private Island!” That’ll shut them up. They’ll probably take you off their Christmas card list too. That’ll save a stamp.

October 30, 2011
7 Reasons That I’ve Been Baffled By Something That Isn’t A Doormat

“What do you think?” My wife enquired, prompting the man-klaxon to sound in my head. Alarmed by the…er…alarm, I took heed. The warning message of the man-klaxon was clear. It was telling me that under no circumstance should I say anything. Nor should I make any noise at all. It would also be prudent not to make any facial expression or move my hands, in case that could be interpreted as a gesture. Then she handed me this:

What is it?

1. What Is It? “What the buggery-bollocks is this?!” I didn’t say, thanks to the man-klaxon. What is this thing? I’ve seen many things before, but nothing that resembles this. It’s large and square at one end and tapers to a point at the other, could it be a mouse?

2. Technology Was Baffled Too. Breaking one of the rules of the man-klaxon, I feigned interest by means of a slight facial expression and pulled out my phone to photograph it, hoping that this would demonstrate some enthusiasm for the wonky mouse. What I was actually doing was using Google Goggles, a handy app that, if you photograph anything in the world, will tell you what it is. It didn’t know. Google Goggles was boggled. Bugger.

3. What Does It Do? Having been failed by the internet, it dawned on me that I was on my own. Why do babies never wake up screaming when you want them to? I was going to have to work it out by myself. Having failed to ascertain what the thing was by trying to interpret its form, I attempted to identify its function. The most functional looking part of it was a button on the front. But the button wouldn’t unbutton. It was just sewn on with nothing to attach it to. Perhaps it was an eye. Was this some sort of weird fish? A sea monster? Why would my wife make a sea monster? I couldn’t recall her bemoaning our lack of a sea monster at any point recently, so it seemed unlikely that she’d just make one on the spur of the moment.

4. What Does It Mean? There was a strange symbol in the middle, so I decided to concentrate on that. It clearly wasn’t a swastika, which was good (though if it had been second world war-related I would have fared far better at identifying it), but what was it? It looked like a snowflake, but the other thing that you may notice about it is that it is green. There’s a wise old saying that warns people never to eat yellow snow. It goes something like this: “Never eat yellow snow”. Well surely green snow must be even more fearsome than yellow snow! How the hell do you get green snow? What’s in that?!

5. Wait! A snowflake! A green snowflake and the majority of the thing’s red. Red and Green! Red and green should never be seen! It’s a Christmas thing! The only time of year that anyone with eyes would conceivably use red and green at the same time. It’s a Christmas…er…um…pencil?

6. A New Approach. Trying to work out what this thing was wasn’t going well. After all, I’d been regarding the seasonal pointy thing for ten minutes and my lack of any sort of response to her question might – if left for many more minutes – have raised suspicion. I decided to try another approach to working out what it was. An approach that I usually reserve for dire emergencies. I decided to try talking. “What the buggery-bollocks is this?!” I asked.

7. It’s A What?! The response was surprising. After my wife had struck me several times with the (surprisingly hard) Christmas thing, she blurted out, “It’s a house!” She then turned the object ninety degrees to the right. And that’s what it is. It’s obvious, really. It’s one of those traditional tree decorations, a Christmas house. Because no Christmas is ever complete without a Christmas house on the tree. It’s clearly the house of a person that lives in a Cath Kidston designed traffic cone, but it’s a house nonetheless. A Christmas house. For the tree.

Aaarrrrggghhhh!!!!

There’s only eleven weeks to go, so don’t forget to get your Christmas houses ready. I know I’ll be enjoying mine. In the shed, probably.*

*Note to self: Must build shed.

October 10, 2011
7 Reasons That This Is The Worst Present Ever

Okay, 7 Reasons readers. It’s September, so there’s only one thing we can possibly write about today. That’s right, Christmas. Because – strange as it may seem – there are people out there that are actually planning their Christmas and buying presents right now. I, of course, will be leaving my shopping until the last possible moment, as usual, but I feel I should issue a cautionary tale to those of you that may be contemplating buying presents. For, if it prevents anyone else having an experience quite like this one, I feel I will have done the world a great service. This may make me appear to be an ungrateful man and a bad brother but that’s okay, because I’m an ungrateful man and a bad brother. So, present-buyers: Don’t buy this! Here are seven reasons that it’s the worst present ever. I have obscured the name of the sender to protect her identity.

This is not the actual gift. This is a far more tastefully coloured version of it.

1. It Created Expectation. It was Christmas morning. My wife and I had finished the croissants and were sipping our second glasses of bucks fizz while, in the background, Frank Sinatra gently exhorted us to have ourselves a merry little Christmas. It was time to open the presents. My wife pulled the many gifts out from under the tree and divided them into four piles: presents for her; presents for me; presents for us and presents for the cat (the largest pile). We took it in turns to unwrap them (and to help the cat) and fairly soon the floor was a gaudy collage of discarded paper. Then it was my turn again. It was a small, rectangular present. It was tastefully wrapped and surprisingly weighty. A glance at the tag revealed that it was a gift from my s*ster. “Who’s it from?” my wife asked. “It’s from my only s*ster.” I replied. Expectantly, I tore the paper away, to reveal a narrow blue gift box about six inches long. Wow! This looks great, I thought as I unwrapped the box. Then I opened it.

2. My Eyes! My life prior to opening the box had been a poor preparation for that moment. My life had been one of carefully and tastefully matched colours and textures. Of aesthetical sobriety and decorousness. I was fundamentally ill-equipped for the spectre that cruelly and aggressively assaulted my retinas. What greeted me was the sight of a glass object consisting of a conical frosted glass stem tapering up toward a rounded top that was made up of most of the colours in the world – minus all of the nice ones and the ones that go together – encased in glass that was partially frosted and liberally spattered with gold leaf. It was the single most hideous thing that I have ever seen. And I’ve seen the Lidl in Scunthorpe.

3. It Caused Bafflement. What is it? What is this glassy-horror? Why has my s*ster sent me this? Why is it covered in gold leaf? Is the glass frosted to obscure the thing, like a toilet window? Why does it have a stem? Why does it have a bulb? Why does it have a rim? What the buggery-bollocks is this thing?! “What is it, darling?” My wife enquired.

4. It Caused Speculation. Putting all aesthetic squeamishness aside, I coolly regarded the gaudy object in as objective a manner as I could. It had a tapering stem. It had a bulb at the end. It was simultaneously shiny and frosted. It was a myriad of lurid colours and was festooned with gold leaf. “It’s…it’s…(got it!)…Liberace’s butt-plug!”

5. It Caused…The Pause. “Don’t be silly,” my wife said, snatching Liberace’s butt-plug from me to regard it more closely. “It’s…(there then followed a long pause. A pregnant pause so long it seemed that an elephant could have been brought from conception to gestation during it. In fact, it was merely a pause of several minutes)…a wine-stopper!” “A what?” I enquired. “It’s a wine-stopper. It stops wine.”

6. It Caused Incredulity. It does what?! Of all the things one could conceivably want to stop why in the hell would anyone pick wine?! I like wine. Why not send a gift that stops something more objectionable, like fascism or tennis? Wine is fun! Sending something that stops it is like giving the gift of abstinence. For Christmas!

7. It Caused Me To Lie On The Telephone. “Thanks for the…um…thing.”

“We got it in South Africa.”

“It’s…come a long way.”

“It took us ages to choose that one.”

“Really?”

“Yes. There were so many different coloured ones. Have you used it yet?”

“No, but I will.”

And that was a lie. Until now! Because now – five years later – I’ve finally found a use for it, even if it is as a cautionary tale. A gentle reminder for 7 Reasons readers to choose their Christmas presents carefully. And, even if you don’t, you could at least get it in a colour that matches the recipient’s loft because that’s where it is. Or rather, where it was, because earlier today when I went up there to relive the horror and to photograph it in all its sickening hideousness for you, the reader, I discovered that it had disappeared. My investigations have revealed that it may have been placed in a charity bag by my w*fe during some sort of cull-of-the-horrid. With some irony, it may well have been a bag from the RNIB. I can only offer our apologies to them.

*For fans of gifts like this, this is the place to find them.

September 28, 2011
7 Reasons To Have A Second Birthday. Today!

It turns out that today is the perfect day to have your second birthday. Here are seven reasons that you should.

1. Because You Can. You might not think you can have a second birthday on June 10th, but you can. You probably think that only the Queen can have two birthdays, but you’re wrong. The Queen doesn’t have two birthdays, she has three. She has her birthday, her official birthday and today, in the Solomon Islands – but nowhere else – it’s the Queen’s official birthday there. Is it really fair that the Queen should have three times as many birthdays as the rest of us? Of course not. No one would mind if you had a second birthday on June 10th, least of all the Queen who’d still be one better than the rest of us.

2. Because The Weather’s Right For It. The date of June 10th falls during the month of June, you may not be surprised to learn. This means that the weather is guaranteed. Because on any birthday in June, it will rain. This will make the weather on your actual birthday – unless that too, falls in June – seem positively glorious in comparison.

3. Because It Can Only Improve Your Day. Today, I was woken at 5:30am by my wife announcing that our son had wet the bed. “Never mind”, I said, “you can put him in our bed for a couple of hours”. “I can’t”, she replied, “it’s our bed that he’s wet”. You need a second birthday to get over that sort of news. I’m sure that many of you have also woken up to similarly bad news or had unfortunate experiences today (possibly involving rain). It’s not too late to have a second birthday. Have it now, you deserve it.

4. Because Tomorrow Is World Gin Day. Tomorrow, in its infinite wisdom, the world – or gin – has decided that it’s World Gin Day. If you have your second birthday today and request gin, tonic, limes, Angostora bitters, ice and glasses (because receptacles are important), you’ll be perfectly equipped for tomorrow’s festivities. And you’ll have got the cake-eating out of the way, because if there’s one thing that gin doesn’t go with it’s cake*. Have your cake today. And eat it.

5. Because Something Good Needs To Happen On June 10th. Sometimes, when writing about a particular day we do actual research via the medium of Google. Having researched June 10th, I can confirm that it’s one of the dullest days in history and can disclose that the two events with the most humour potential from this date are that the first public zoo was opened in France in 1794 and Elizabeth Hurley was born in 1965. It’s not just that you need June 10th for your second birthday. June 10th needs you.

6. Because It’s The Right Time Of Year. If you have a birthday in February or November, you probably lose out presents-wise because of your special day’s proximity to Christmas. That’s right, Jesus was born too and he’s far more important than you. June 10th is almost in the middle of the year and is as far away from Christmas as you can hope to get**. So, with your second birthday on June 10th, you’ll get better presents and you’ll foil Jesus. It’s all win.

7. Because It’s Jon’s Birthday. Today, June 10th, is my writing partner Jonathan Lee’s birthday. If everyone else had a second birthday today then he would age at half the speed of the rest of us (though anyone that saw yesterday’s post might say he’s making rather a good fist of that already***). We’d all become world-weary and cynical and while, in the Autumn of our lives, our minds had closed to fun, tomfoolery and japery, Jon would still be merrily frolicking away, committing acts of piracy in his garden. The world’s a much better place for that. Happy birthday Jon.

*If there are two things that gin doesn’t go with they’re cake and cycling.

**Except for Mecca.

***He wrote, in his glass house.

June 10, 2011
Pearls of Wisdom

It’s Sunday. This is Marc. I was thinking last week (as I occasionally do) and something occurred to me. I love writing 7 Reasons. I also love dictionaries of quotation. Wouldn’t it be amazing if I combined the two? The answer was emphatically yes.

I decided to fire up the Randomator (it’s up there at the top of the page where it says “Randomator!”) and harvest a few 7 Reasons quotes on various aspects of life and living. Here – in the order that I found them – are some 7 Reasons pearls of wisdom on an array of topics.

On sharks: “In my 27 years, I believe I have sleep-walked only once. And even then it wasn’t a very exciting sleep-walk, I just went looking for the bathroom in the lounge. I couldn’t imagine doing that every night though. Which is what a shark has to do. Apart from it swims instead of walking. And it rarely ends up in my lounge.”

On St Peter: “It is generally accepted that 156,000 people die everyday. That’s about one every 1.8 seconds. I don’t believe that Saint Peter has the stamina to sit there all day every day shouting out names. When does he sleep?”

On Viagra: “When a man takes one Viagra pill, his penis assumes the shape of the number 1 for a considerable time. Therefore, if a man takes seven Viagra pills, his penis must assume the shape of the number 7 for a considerable time. I’m not sure why anyone would want a 7 shaped penis – unless they wanted to make love to someone round a corner – so it’s probably the wrong number of pills to take.”

On the Dutch: “Dutch people are fantastic. They’re tall, which is more space-efficient than being fat, and they speak many languages…”

On supermarkets: “A supermarket is not a place for mankinis and it is certainly not a place for jogging in them. No one wants to see that while deciding what to have for dinner. Apologise. Immediately. And then cover yourself up with a parsnip.”

On measuring time: “I have no idea exactly how long I was in the kitchen, but I do know that I had a ginger beard when I emerged from it. I had one when I went in too, but I was definitely in there for a very long time.”

On supporting England: “My heart has sunk so many times I am amazed it’s not lodged somewhere around my groinal area.”

On the pole vault: “…it’s a sport which involves physically exerting yourself until you’re panting and thrusting a long, rigid shaft into a box before you briefly soar heavenward and eventually end up lying sweaty and exhausted on a mattress with a horizontal pole.”

On popemobiles: “A popemobile is visible from quite a distance. Even when there isn’t a pope in it.”

On new planets: “I want a planet that is 100% water. Not ice, water. I want a planet that looks like a sausage. Or, even better, a planet that morphs into a sausage from its 100% water state.”

On Christmas: “When the children burst into our bedroom at six o’clock this morning and jumped up and down on the bed screaming “It’s Christmas, it’s Christmas!” we were very moved. We don’t know whose children they were, or how they got into our house, but we were moved.”

On polar bears: “If you do insist on dating a polar bear, then you have to understand one thing. You will never be able to use your bath again.”

On flamingo farming: “With the new flamingo farms, it will be possible to stumble across fields full of pink clusters of gangly birds – all year round. This will brighten up the landscape no end, especially at sunset. Countryside campsites will become countryside camp sites where you’ll be able to enjoy the countryside camp sight of intense pink colours in tents (pink coloured).”

On the Sinclair C5: “Always a bit annoying having to get out of your vehicle and push it up a hill isn’t it? Which is why the Sinclair C5 should have come with a tow rope. Or a map that just showed hills that went down.”

On Annie Lennox: “Annie Lennox has got a problem. If her heart keeps going boom whenever she walks into an empty room – and it has been at least 25 years since it started – she needs to do one of two things. Go to the doctors or avoid empty rooms.”

On philosophy: “If a butterfly beats its wings in a forest in China does a tree fall on a deaf person on the other side of the world?”

On the French: “The French have dainty little feet. It’s a well known fact, in my mind, that they spend 56% of their time in the bathroom moisturising their toes.”

On Foursquare: “foursquare iPhone App Would Like To Add Your Current Location. Jonathan Lee doesn’t. He is very happy doing some work at home without the whole of foursquare’s Jehovah Witness community knowing where he is.”

On rhymes: “They say that nothing rhymes with orange, but this doesn’t seem quite right to me: Nothing rhymes better with puffin.”

On candles: “There are always candles on the table at dinner parties but no one knows why. I don’t want to singe my arm hair every time I pour some wine or pass the salt. Why would you want to put a fire on the table?”

On Nelson: “Fancy losing a battle to a bloke with one arm and one eye. Do you know how difficult it is steer a ship with one arm and one eye? That’s pretty lame France.”

On parenthood: “There are toys everywhere. And if you have children, you have to get rid of your toys and replace them with stuffed animals and pushchairs.”

On Turkish barbers: “…a middle-aged man – shaking and hyperactive from far too much strong coffee – holding a cut-throat razor to your jugular and gesticulating wildly, millimetres from your face, while he asks you where you’re going on holiday this year? Then he sets your ears on fire.”

On ironing: “There are only so many movements you can make with an iron – assuming you are doing the job properly anyway. Right to left or left to right seem to be the only options. I would love to do top to bottom, but whoever invented bras made it impossible.”

March 13, 2011
7 Reasons That 24th December Should Be Known As The Day of the Sausage

Hi there, it’s the day before Christmas and at other humour websites, you could probably expect to find some sort of Christmas Eve themed piece today, cynically concocted to gain the maximum amount of traffic by exploiting the festive mood. But not here. Because at 7 Reasons(.org) we have had a great and noble idea. We’ve come to realise that Christmas Eve is just a little too Christmassy. Similarly, it’s also occurred to us that it’s just not sausagey enough. When was the last time that your thoughts turned to sausages on Christmas Eve? But we think that’s wrong, and we want to change it. So we see this piece as a clarion call, a rallying cry, because we firmly believe that Christmas Eve should be known as The Day of the Sausage, and here are seven reasons why.

Churchill was never without a sausage.

1. Rennie. You might think that The Day of the Sausage falling on Christmas Eve is a tremendous coincidence. It isn’t. In fact it has been meticulously planned. At Christmas, you can’t move for two things. People and indigestion tablets. The world is full of them. It is full of indigestion tablets because the day that follows The Day of the Sausage is Christmas Day. A day when, regardless of your religious views, you eat a lot. It’s like a rule. When better therefore to hold The Day of the Sausage? You can spend all of 24th December eating sausages knowing that you will have both enough days and enough tablets to recover.

2. Vegetarians. Quite how vegetarians survive without meat is probably the one thing I wouldn’t want to be asked when faced with the One Million Pound question by Chris Tarrant. But that’s okay, because I am never going to be asked. I can live content in the knowledge that there are meat substitute products our there for the herbivores among us and no more prominent are they than during the Christmas period. In amongst the people and the indigestion tablets are vegetarian sausages and vegetarian sausages on cocktail sticks and vegetarian sausages wrapped in something that should really be bacon. They have already been catered for! If The Day of the Sausage fell on June 30th, shops would have to fill their shelves with vegetarian sausages twice a year, but with it falling on 24th December they only need to do it once. Which means they can sell proper food in June to go on my barbecue. Never let it be said that we don’t consider the economic elements when we write.

3. Maths. Christmas Eve falls on the 24^th of December, and you can make that number out of sausages. You’re probably looking at the numbers 2 and 4 right now thinking, oh no you can’t. But you’re wrong. Because sausages come in many forms, but the two most common types of sausage are the straight sausage and the circular sausage (which is essentially a longer version of the straight sausage that can go round corners). And you can make the number 24 from them. Here it is. In binary.

Coincidentally, this is just the right amount of sausages for two average sausage consumers to share.

4. Clarification. If you Google the words ‘Sausage Day’ you will be both disappointed and confused. (Unless you’re a pervert). There is no such thing as an International Sausage Day. Nor a National Sausage Day. Nor just a Sausage Day. There are however various Sausage Weeks. Yes, that’s right. Various Sausage Weeks. More than one. That’s not right! In 2010, British Sausage Week ran from 1st-7th November. However, the Egerton Arms in Knutsford, Cheshire, ran their Sausage Week from 3rd-12th November! Which raises another issue. Do they have 10-day weeks in Knutsford? But that is an issue for another day. Back to the sausages. And to the Cumberland Sausage Day. That falls on 5th July. Yes, it’s a Sausage Day, but a Sausage Day for just one kind of sausage. That is sausagist in anyone’s language. Except French. Where is would be saucissonist. The Day of the Sausage would eliminate such exclusivity and allow the whole world to know exactly when to celebrate their sausage. And that has to be a good thing.

5. Harmony. The Day of the Sausage and Christmas Eve won’t conflict with each other. In fact, to borrow a phrase from George W. Bush, they should be able to co-exist peacefully. You can even make the traditional Christmas Eve nativity scene using them, as this heartwarming depiction of the birth of the baby Jesusage shows.

We assume that Americans did this.

6. Shopping. In something of an exclusive to our 7 Reasons readers, we can reveal that The Day of the Sausage has a sub-agenda. Let us ask you a question. What will you be doing on The Day of the Sausage? The correct answer is eating sausages, celebrating sausages and having your photo taken while hovering your sausage over your top lip so it looks like a moustache. What won’t you be doing? Last-minute Christmas shopping. That’s right, everyone will have forgotten about Christmas. The shops will be empty. So while everyone is celebrating bangers, we will be in Halfords deciding whether our respective partners would prefer the de-icer or some reflectors for their bikes. And because we are kind, both of our readers can join us too.

7. Santa. On Christmas Eve Santa comes to visit you, and how do you reward him while he’s emptying his sack into your stockings? You give him a glass of whisky (he likes a 12 year old Highland Park by the way, don’t ask how we know this) and a mince pie. But a mince pie is essentially a dessert. A teeny-tiny dessert. But look at Santa. He’s a big, fat, ruddy faced man engaged in a hard job of work on his busiest day of the year. And you want to give him a pastry confection! That’s hardly adequate sustenance. What Santa needs is something more nutritious and something more filling to keep him going. He needs sausages. And double the quantity of whisky while you’re at it.*

*The 7 Reasons team would like to wish you a very merry Sausage Day, and a happy Christmas.

December 24, 2010
7 Reasons That I Won’t Be Sending My Christmas Cards Until Christmas Eve

It’s almost Christmas and one of the aspects of the festival that I hate the most is writing Christmas cards. But I’ve come up with a cunning plan for dealing with them. This year, I won’t be sending any Christmas cards out until Christmas Eve. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Space. When you’re buying your stamps or posting your cards, the post office on Christmas Eve is a far more convivial atmosphere than the post office on December 18^th. When I’m posting my cards tomorrow, I’m going to be alone, with just the post office staff wearing their Santa hats and antlers, and eating their mince pies, (which they’ll probably share with me). And, instead of being stuck in a long mazy queue of grey people coughing, I’m going to have space to stretch my arms out and spin around. And that’s what I’m going to do; just because I can. And because it’s less cruel than swinging a cat.

2. Time. Leaving the cards until the last minute will have other benefits too. Had I written my cards early I’d have spent lots of time writing them out neatly, but I didn’t do that this year, and now that Christmas Eve is almost upon us, I’m doing the Christmas cards as a rush job. So that’s a lot less time that I’ve spent writing cards: Time that I was able to use more productively. I didn’t obviously, I spent it mulling things and playing Angry Birds. I also photoshopped a hat onto the statue of liberty. But it’s still time saved.

3. Inclusivity. It’s more inclusive if I send my cards on Christmas Eve. After all, I’m notoriously forgetful, but I know who I’ve received a card from because there’s a bushel of them in the living room. Or a gross. Or a flock (I have no idea how quantities of cards are measured), so it’s easy enough for me to work out who’s sent them and reply. So if you’ve sent me a card, you’ll get one in return: And if you haven’t, then you won’t. Obviously if anyone else is using the same system as me then that’s unfortunate, but if they are, that would benefit the…

4. Environment. That the Christmas cards I’ve sent won’t be received until after Christmas is good for the planet. Because no one sends out a Christmas card after Christmas, so people won’t send out any cards in reply to mine. So there’ll be less wasted paper, and I’ll have less recycling to do in January. Which is great, as the first recycling day of the New Year is usually like some sort of glass-themed labour of Hercules, but without Hercules and starring me instead.

5. Blame. And no one even need know that their cards weren’t sent until Christmas Eve (unless they’re reading this. Damn) because what’s the default opinion on the Royal Mail in this country? It’s that they’re hapless and inefficient. That’s not strictly true. Most of the time, they’re dedicated people doing a fine, and quite thankless, job, but they’ll automatically get the blame for the tardy arrival of my cards anyway. But that’s their problem and I don’t mind using it to my advantage. After all, I’ve never been stupid enough to change my name to Consignia and they have.

6. How To Win Friends And Influence People. When no card arrives before Christmas, friends, family and acquaintances will probably think “The bastard! He hasn’t sent us a folded over piece of paper with a picture of a fat, bearded man on the front and some illegible scrawl within! How could he do this to me?” But then, when the card turns up a few days after Christmas (“bloody post office”) they’ll feel loved and wanted again. And they’ll feel bad for thinking ill of me, which they’ll probably compensate for by being even more well-disposed toward me than usual. So if I keep doing this every Christmas, people will eventually feel so much affection for me that they will probably erect statues of me when I’m in my old age. I could get canonized! I could become the next Princess Diana!*

7. Finances. I won’t need to buy cards until the last minute, by which time I’ll know exactly how many I need. So none will be wasted. So I’ll be saving money. That’s money that I can spend on other Christmas things like candles that get brought out once a year that nobody ever lights, or those owl baubles that my wife saw (because nothing says Christmas more than a rodent-terrorising bird of prey hanging from a tree). By leaving the cards until the last moment, I’m going to be better off financially, and I’m going to benefit in many, many other ways too. I’m a genius! A mean genius. I’m a meanius!

*But my mother-in-law won’t be on the stamps.

December 23, 2010
7 Reasons To Embrace Christmas Traffic Jams

Strictly speaking, there is no such thing as a Christmas traffic jam, in the same way as there is no such thing as a Christmas turkey, but you know what I mean. Which is just as well, because if I had used ‘7 Reasons To Embrace The Traffic Jams You Experience While Travelling Somewhere For Christmas’ both of you may have decided not to read. I’m glad you have though, because I have importance to impart on you. If you are travelling this Christmas, this is the most helpful thing you will read this half-hour.

1. In-Laws. If you are very lucky, your in-laws, or – if you are sans wedding-ring – your partner’s family, will be normal. This is fairly uncommon however, so we shall assume that the in-laws are a weird bunch. The mother-in-law smokes a pipe and keeps singing sea shanties and the father-in-law insists on wearing novelty ties and very little else. That type of weird. The type of weird that means you want to spend as little time in their company as possible over Christmas. The type of weird that makes traffic jams seem like a little piece of heaven.*

2. Christmas Playlist. Unless you really are a Scrooge (or deaf), Christmas songs evoke the festive spirit. And no one can tell me that after listening to Wham! and Chris Rea over and over and over and over and over again you’re not going to be in the mood for mulled wine. And beer. And brandy. And anything else that might numb the pain.

3. Excuses. Despite having 364 days to buy your loved one a present, you seem to have forgotten to buy one. This means you need a damn good excuse. And to think of a damn good excuse you need time. And time comes with traffic jams. Lots of them. By the time you get to your destination, your loved one will be too tired and relieved to care about presents. Which gives you time to whip down to B&Q.

4. Traditional Games. What with the advent of Game Boys and Game Gears and PSPs, the traditional in car entertainment was shelved. Mammoth games of ‘i-Spy’ and ‘I Went On My Holidays…’ were swapped for games featuring a hedgehog called Sonic and a footballer who looked like Shrek. Christmas traffic jams are the perfect opportunity to relive those golden days. A chance to remember those simpler times. Times where the use of the brain was more important than the use of the thumbs. Admittedly, i-Spy will only last until someone has guessed BOOORRRIIINNNGGG!!! but, despite someone not quite understanding the joys of the game, it will be fun while it lasts. Honest.

5. Scenery. Ever wanted to see Slough look pretty? Get stuck there in the snow. It’s your only hope.

6. Accents. Have you ever wondered what people sound like in the area you are driving through? No, probably not. That’s because you are driving through them. But what if you are stuck in them? No, probably not. But you should. Because it will open your eyes to the world around you. And you don’t need to do it by winding down the window and freezing to death. Just tune in to the local radio station. If you are lucky they’ll be interviewing someone who thought they had grown a six-foot cucumber only to discover it was in fact a marrow. And that never happens where you live.

7. Challenge. Despite what we are encouraging here, we know no one likes sitting in a traffic jam and, given the opportunity, they will find a way of getting out of it. Which is where the road map comes in handy. I can’t think of anything more rewarding than plotting a way out of a jam and then executing it perfectly. Especially if you set yourself a time limit and pretend you are being chased by members of the KGB. Such circumstances can turn pain and despair into exhilaration and triumph. And is a case in itself for joining a jam if you see one. We’ll see you in there.

*I would just like to point out that I am very lucky. Despite their annoying habit of making me look a very average tennis player, my girlfriend’s parents are a delight.**

**No, I am not just saying this. How cynical of you.

December 20, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons For Fake Christmas Trees

It is fair to say that there wasn’t a lot of fakery about the 7 Reasons HQ up until today – except maybe the dancing girls and the tiramisu tap – but that has rather suddenly changed. Today we find the 7 Reasons sofa in a forest. A fake forest. A fake forest of Christmas trees. And it’s all the work of today’s guest-writer, Andrew Norton. He likes them. And quite reasonably too.

Fake, fake, fake fake, fake.

A common thread in many of these 7 reasons lists seems to be idleness – you should do this or that because it is easier, or quicker or less hassle and so on. In keeping with this and for the sake of avoiding having to think too hard, I will proudly use the same rhetoric here.

1. Laziness. Artificial Christmas trees genuinely are the laziest, easiest, least hassling component of the entire Christmas period bar none. Not all fake trees are this simple I grant you, but there are pop-up Christmas trees that exist that literally jump into action, pre lit and decorated. All you have to do is find enough time and energy to rise out of a chair or bed long enough to get the tree out of the box, plug it in and switch it on. 1-0.

2. Rashes. This one might not cover everybody and I accept that, but there are a lot of people allergic to pretty much everything Christmas has to offer be it nuts, fake beards or pine needles. If you are one of those people, the festive period need not be a time of rashes and annaphallactic shock. When it comes to your Christmas tree – get an artificial one. Unless you’re allergic to plastic as well, in which case you might want to think about creating your own tree out of baby wipes, pipe cleaners and moisturiser. However, chances are that a wily Santa will mistake it for a pile of junk and leave you only the dust, fluff and crumbs that gather in the folds of his enormous Christmas sack. That is not a euphemism by the way.

3. Needles. Obvious one this, but most certainly true. The biggest pain about going into a forest, removing a tree and bringing it back into the house is that it continues to behave like a tree and very much like one that is dying. It drops its needles everywhere as a result. And they are called ‘needles’ for a reason, just ask your cat once it has finished trying to dislodge one from its larynx. They get everywhere and need to constantly be hoovered up from the giant sticklebrick that they make of your carpet. Not to mention the collection you will find on the bottom of your socks – I guarantee it.

4. They’re Identical. OK, so just stop and think for a minute about what you are doing this time of year – taking a tree from outside where it belongs, cutting it down and bringing it into your house so that you can precariously balance it in an ill-fitting stand, cover it in fragile decorations and light it up to make it pretty and sparkly. While that is fun it is also pretty laborious and ridiculous. When questioned about it by aliens or foreigners, you will tell them you do it “just coz that’s what we do”. At least save yourself accusations of madness by admitting that it is crazy and get a fake tree that looks identical to a real one. You can then argue that it is a symbol of a symbol, a postmodern ornament in reference to a pre-modern tradition. Make sense? Thought not. Just get a fake tree.

5. Religion. Had you forgotten that Christmas has anything to do with Christianity? May I take this chance to remind you that the whole reason we have Christmas trees is because a few hundred years ago St. Boniface though it would be funny to go and chop down a sacred tree devoted to the Norse gods in order to disprove the Nordic faith by remaining unscathed from their deities’ wrath. He even brought it into the house and made a display out of it. Well, if you are Christian you can continue the tradition with an artificial tree just as well as a real one. If you are an atheist or agnostic you can remove yourself from the actions of St. Boniface because unlike him you bought yours from a shop that had absolutely nothing to do with Norse gods and is not imbued with any sacred life force.

6. Reusable. So Christmas is over and the stick in your living room devoid of needles looks like a shaved cat wearing bangle earrings. Are you happy now? Did you think to get one that comes in a pot and can go in your garden? No? Well, I suppose you’ll throw it away or get it chipped. Yes, it may return to the earth from whence it came and that’s great. But so will an artificial tree. Well – in that you get it down from the attic each year and then when you’re done it returns to whence it came. They just pack back up into a box and ‘hibernate’ like all the other things you forget you own up in the forgotten world of sleeping curios in the loft.

7. Choice. Trees are green and are made of wood. The end. Artificial trees are all singing, all dancing magical constructions that take anything a real tree can do and then go one further. What’s more they are the tree equivalent of John C. Reily. They, like he, can play it straight or for laughs to equal aplomb. Remember him as the doomed fisherman in a Perfect Storm? That’s an artificial tree playing the part of a traditional Nordman Fir – compelling, believable and a joy to watch. Remember John going full slapstick with Will Ferrell in Step Brothers? That’s an artificial tree giving it as a pre-lit pop-up fibre optic mutli-coloured festive grotto in a box. Beat that real tree.

December 18, 2010
7 Reasons Not to Leave Wrapping Your Presents Until Christmas Eve

Leaving your gift-wrapping until the last-minute is never a good idea. Here are seven reasons why.

Jonathan always uses paper bearing the traditional Christmas gift horse.

1. Reminders. The last thing you want to be doing is sitting in the study wrapping – while rapping along to Wham! – when your loved one knocks on the door and laughs, ‘I hope you haven’t bought me that handbag!’ You look down to see a pair of thick, woolen Rudolph socks. Oh no! She (or he) wanted that handbag. You look at your watch. It’s 5pm. There is no way you can make it to John Lewis now. If only you’d started wrapping on Tuesday. She (or he) could have reminded you then and you could have rectified the situation. Now you’re are going to have to steal one of her (or his) handbags and wrap that up. With the socks inside. Then you’re going to have to get her (or him) really, quite drunk.

2. Paper. However much wrapping paper you buy, it is never enough. It doesn’t matter if you raid your local WHSmith and buy every single roll going, it will never be enough. It’s one of those stupid Christmas rules. Come 11pm on Christmas Eve you have two presents left and no paper. Which is why come Christmas Day many are presented with a gift wrapped in a House Of Fraser bag. Or some printer paper. Or the Daily Telegraph. Though in that particular case I suppose the present was a copy of The Daily Telegraph. Some people like sudukos. The solution is simple*, wrap your presents before Christmas Eve, then when you run out you can go and buy another roll. It works. Though given you wrapped up days in advance you’ll probably have bought six rolls too many. Still, that’s Christmas for you.

3. Sellotape. Because you have no idea where the Sellotape is kept, and you’ll have to ask your partner where it is. And they’ll know that you’ve left wrapping their present until the last minute. And you’ll know that they know. And they’ll know that you know that they know. And you’ll know that they know that you know that they know that you know that they…no, I’ve forgotten. It definitely involved guilt, stationery and repercussions though.

4. Celebration. Christmas Eve is a festival in and of itself. And, having celebrated copiously and extravagantly, the last thing you want to be doing is staggering home in the snow to wrap your presents as, by this point, you may well have imbibed more mulled wine and port than…well…anyone else. Ever. Essentially wrapping presents in this state is a tiresome chore which soon degenerates into screwing large sheets of paper round random objects, with only one eye open and your tongue poking out with concentration while you lie on your side on the dining room floor. It also leads to…

5. Breakages. And you don’t want to break things on Christmas Eve. You don’t want to break yourself because it’s busy at the hospital and having to drive you there is annoying to your friends and family. And you certainly don’t want to break the expensive and fragile blue glass vase that constitutes your then-girlfriend’s main present at 11:30pm on Christmas Eve because it’s too late to replace it. So you’re left with a choice: You either wrap up the remains anyway and express shock and surprise that it’s broken when she opens it the following day, or you explain to her that you broke it while you were wrapping it because you blacked out for a moment while looking at a mince pie and fell off the chair. I chose the former option, naturally.

6. Garages. Despite what people may believe, a garage is not a limitless Santa’s grotto. The flowers are usually gone by lunchtime on Christmas Eve, the Chocolate Oranges by 4pm and the CDs of Cliff Richard’s Greatest Hits by 6pm. So what are you going to do when at 9pm you begin to wrap up your lover’s presents only to realise that he/she has bought you double the number? You can’t get a box of fire-lighters. They still have some left from last year. A free car-wash seems futile given that the car will get dirty again driving back. A new can of petrol is a fire hazard under the tree. A pint of skimmed milk lacks the festive spirit. You’re going to be screwed. So don’t do it. Don’t wrap on Christmas Eve.

7. Americans. For some reason best known to themselves, many Americans open their presents (which they insist upon calling gifts) on Christmas Eve. But what if you have an American coming over? Because if you haven’t wrapped your presents by Christmas Eve, muddleheaded ex-colonial types will want to open them before you’ve done so. And you know what will happen if they do that? They’ll just be removing stuff from boxes. All of the boxes. Because they won’t know which boxes are for them because they won’t have labels on because you won’t have done the labels because, let’s face it, if you haven’t done your wrapping by Christmas Eve you’re hardly likely to have made gift labels, are you? So your house will just be full of Americans removing all of your boxed-possessions and taking them. It would be like being burgled, except you’d have to give the burglars your mulled wine and make small talk with them while they burgled you, spelled things badly and insisted that science isn’t a real thing. And if that image hasn’t motivated you to wrap your presents right now, nothing will.

*Not the solution to the sudoku. Those bloody things are impenetrable.

December 17, 2010