Category: Posts

7 Reasons That A Drawn First Test Was The Best Result For The Ashes

1. England. For England, a draw in the Brisbane test is certainly a good start to proceedings. We’ve already made certain that there will be no repeat of the 5-0 whitewash in 2006/7 (that I can’t remember) and we’ll be all the more confident as a result of that and, with the monkey off our back, we’ll be able to play more freely; without protests from animal rights activists angered by our wearing of the back-monkey.

2. Australia. For Australia, despite being the home team, and despite the stunning manner in which they won their last home series, a draw isn’t a bad start either. Now that many of their cricketing greats have retired, to devote more time to highlighting their hair and creosoting themselves – leaving Australia with players in their team that even Australians have to google – it was always going to be a tough series. A loss would, quite simply, have been devastating for them. At least with a draw the Australian public will retain some hope and confidence and will continue backing their team; whoever they are.

3. Andrew Strauss. A draw’s a good result for Straussy personally. It means we’re still in the hunt for The Ashes and, while this test can be seen as a positive in terms of his captaincy, will give him much needed time to work on his abysmal batting form. Strauss was England’s lowest scorer in both innings at Brisbane scoring 0 and 110 runs respectively, which is 192 runs fewer than his opening partner. A poor show indeed.

4. Ricky Ponting. A draw, for Ricky Ponting, is no bad result. He’s already received a lot of criticism from his countrymen and a draw is unlikely to add to that. Despite him being the most dislikeable man in the history of Australia, I almost felt sorry for him earlier today (? Yesterday? I just don’t know any more) while he was being booed by both of his own crowd. And I would have done. If I were mental. Or he wasn’t Ricky Ponting.

5. @theashes. Yes, the Twitter user with the best name on Twitter will also benefit from the draw. The feckless American who decided to give herself the name @theashes without checking Google or Wikipedia first and now has over 5000 new followers and more Twitter mentions than…er…the actual test match got (remember the cricket anyone?) now has a few days (I still haven’t worked out how many, I have no idea what day it is and am also surprised to note that it’s now light outside) to choose which team she wants to support as the two teams are still level. Then, when a Twitter-mob quickly forms to campaign to send @theashes to The Ashes, she can choose sides without accusations of glory-seeking, before payment is required for a plane ticket and the Twitter-mob dissipates even more quickly than it was formed.

6. Spectacle. The draw leaves the rest of the contest evenly balanced and, as history has shown us, the best, the absolute best Ashes series are the closest fought ones. Was the 2006/7 Ashes series actually exciting? I asked someone who actually remembered the series and he said “No.”… “Mate”. But the 2005 series and the 2009 series were both epic, close-fought affairs in which both teams gave their all and that everyone remembers fondly. In fact, most right-thinking cricket-fans don’t mind their team losing in a close and exciting contest at all.*

7. International Relations. Because of the draw we can continue to talk to Australians and they can continue to talk to us with pride and dignity intact all round. We can pretend that Finn and Swann didn’t get knocked around the park a worrying amount in Australia’s second innings and that South Africa is just west of the Isle of Wight, and Australians can pretend that there were people in the stands on Monday and that they were just very small. And quiet.

*Did I mention I haven’t slept since…Tuesday?

November 29, 2010
7 Reasons to Love Snovember

It’s Snovember! Here are seven reasons to love it.

1. The Title. As a portmanteau word combining both weather and a month, Snovember works better than almost any other. In snow terms, its closest rivals are Snarch, Snuly and Snebruary, and although other weather events/months exist; Sune, Haily and Thunduary don’t even come close to Snovember for catchy, popular appeal and ease of pronunciation.

2. Effect. The snow buries things, which is excellent. Today it’s burying ongoing news stories such as the Irish financial crisis, higher rail ticket prices and other depressing news that we now have no chance whatsoever of hearing from the other side of the world, leaving us only with a vague sense that Ian Bell was very good and that there’s snow outside. Look! Snow! See the snow! Touch the snow! Smell the snow! Think only of the snow! It’s THE SNOW!!!

3. Thanksgiving. That’s right, it’s Thanksgiving day in the U.S. but now you won’t have to read about that here, because we’re far too excited by the snow to write about it. We don’t even know what they’re giving thanks for: Turkeys? Football? Macy’s? We don’t know, and we don’t care. Because it’s Snovember; we can see actual snow and because of that we won’t be hearing about turkeys on the evening news or anything else related to pilgrims or thankfulness that we don’t understand.

4. Safety. Councils in the UK tend to stockpile their grit in time for December and could potentially get caught out by the early snowfall but fortunately, as the wintry weather has come in Snovember, we have plenty of ashes* left over from bonfire night to spread on it. If the snow occurred in other months, we’d have had to cover it in tinsel, chocolate eggs or pumpkins; and falling over a pumpkin on your way to work is not the best start to the day.**

5. Indolence. The early snowfall gives everyone the excuse to do what they’ve really wanted to do since October and give up all outdoor exercise until the Spring. No rational person wants to go out running, cycling or canoeing during the cold half of the year and the snow is our opportunity to stop doing those things and concentrate on what we really want to spend the winter doing; which is eating our own bodyweight in Twiglets and drinking ourselves into a mulled-wine and sloe-gin induced stupor. We may all become hideously fat as a result, but the extra weight will just make us more stable in the snow and better protected when we fall over. Which will help offset the effect of the glühwein. And the winter Pimm’s.

6. Shopping. It’s Snovember! And rather than the snow reminding people that it’s Christmas soon and they need to go and do their shopping, it will prevent them from going out and buying Yule-related things. This means that we won’t have to devote as much time to arranging Christmas as usual and, even though we’ll now have less time to organise it, it will turn out exactly the same as every other year. And somehow, somewhere, it might just enter our thick skulls that we don’t need to devote a quarter of the year to organising bloody Christmas and it will happen anyway, regardless.

7. Preparedness. The trial run in Snovember will prepare us for winter proper. We’ll be able to get the annual bout of complaining that; our cars won’t work in un-driveable conditions, that the local council haven’t magicked the snow away, and that the entirely predictable snow in Sweden doesn’t cause chaos, out of the way and then get on with our lives as usual. Or we’ll just use it as an excuse to get in some extra complaining. Either way, we’re all benefiting from Snovember. In fact, we’re off to play in the snow right now. We’ve never even heard of cricket. It’s Snovember everybody! Look! Snow!

*We can’t emphasise enough how lower-case that entire word is.

**We’re not entirely certain about that, it might be bloomin’ marvellous, but we rather suspect that it may be a little undignified. Not to mention painful.

November 25, 2010
7 Reasons That Writer’s Block is Frustrating

Whether you’re a blogger, a journalist, a novelist, a playwright or a poet, writer’s block can be both debilitating and frustrating. Here are seven reasons why.

Yes, It's Microsoft Word 1897!

1. Because You Call Yourself A Writer. I sometimes call myself a writer. Mostly because that’s what I do. I write. Every day. I didn’t start doing it regularly until my thirties, but I’ve studied literature my whole life, from pre-school to university. And I feel comfortable when I refer to myself as a writer; because I do it all the time and, I like to imagine, quite well. I don’t make my living from writing: I’ve never even been paid for writing; in fact – owing to the vagaries of the publishing system – I’ve been offered more money not to write than I have to write. Yes, actual soft cash (made of paper, so better than hard cash), and I turned it down. Because I’m an idiot. And I would have had to have called myself a not-writer. A professional not-writer. And that’s not who I am. But you can only call yourself a writer if you actually write something.

2. Because It’s Hard To Explain. It’s hard to explain not being able to write to non-writers, because – to them – it’s a natural state. How would you explain the absence of writing to someone that isn’t a practitioner of the art? I’ll have a stab at it: Imagine that you’re reading a blank page. But that page is important. In fact, the words on that page are fundamental to your very life, soul, being, self-image and existence. But you can’t see them. And you need them. They’re vital. Oh, and you’re naked. Well that’s pretty much what it’s like. But much worse. Because your foot hurts and it’s cold where you are.

3. Because You Can Think Of Things To Write, They’re Just Not Appropriate. I could, right at this moment, fashion a discourse highlighting the influence of John Mayall on the British blues movement or analyse Romania’s under-reported role in the holocaust. But I’m not writing a piece on the development of British music, or on World War II, I’m writing for a humour site. Which is a shame as there’s very little else in my head except for: “There’s nothing in your head you silly man”, “My foot hurts” and “Oooh, I quite fancy a sandwich”; yet eating the sandwich won’t help you because…well…it’s eating a sandwich, which is different to writing (it’s more Marmitey and less like Tolstoy) and your audience probably won’t appreciate a piece entitled 7 Reasons I Stopped Staring Blankly at a Screen and had a Sandwich Instead as it would be at least six reasons light and it would probably make them hungry. Well, half of them, the other half probably don’t like Marmite.

4. Because You Have A Deadline. Yes, there’s always a deadline that you need to hit. And, when I was staring at my blank screen it was imminent. After all, I have other things to do in addition to writing. I’m a man, I need simple things; that sandwich, sleep, words to magically appear on my screen (or in my head, I’m not lazy, I’ll happily type them out), but mostly sleep. Because I’ve been busy all day and I’m tired. But I need to write these words, so with bloodshot eyes I continue to stare at the screen, because inspiration will strike if I stare at it for long enough, surely?

5. Because Of Modern Technology. And I’m staring at the blank screen on a computer. That’s right, a computer. A machine connected to the world that contains many, many distractions. So when you find yourself failing to write words on a screen, you’ll soon find yourself watching people falling off bicycles on Youtube. And shortly, you’ll find yourself on Twitter. Not tweeting about WWII or John Mayall, but about other topical and funny stuff. And you’re actually being funny on Twitter. In the written word! But not in any way that inspires your next day’s piece, and that doesn’t help matters; in fact, it’s bloody frustrating, as the irony of the situation won’t escape you. You will briefly toy with the idea of tweeting tomorrow’s piece, and disregard it. Eventually. But not before you’ve wasted much precious writing time considering it, while sucking on a pencil: A pencil without any lead in it.

6. Because Of Self-Doubt. Why do I write? If you ever found yourself asking that, you would never, ever do it. Because writing defies all logical sense. Why, in the name of all that is holy, in the name of all that is unholy, or in the name of all that isn’t there (I think I’ve covered everyone) would anyone choose to spend their time spewing-forth words from their brains to their fingers to their screens. “I could be doing other things at the moment,” you’ll find yourself thinking. “I could be doing other things that normal people do like watching other people sitting in a “jungle” or watching other people dancing badly or watching other people that can’t sing, sing or”…and suddenly writing makes sense again.

7. Because You’ll Get There In The End. And eventually, you’ll think of something to write about. Because that’s what you do, you’re a writer. Even if you do end up writing about not-writing, even if you end up raw-eyed and sweaty, even if you end up writing with the rapier-like-insight and élan of an addled baboon, there’ll be something. Because however much you think you have nothing to say, however hard you think it is, there will always be something. And that’s when you know that you should write. And that you should have a shower.

November 23, 2010
7 Reasons The UK Owes Ireland

If you are British, you may be asking why our Government is helping to bail out Ireland. Well wonder no longer. It is quite simple. Ireland has given so much to the UK. So much. We owe them.

1. Music. ‘Some people say I look like me dad. What?! Are you serious?’ As I am sure you are all aware, they are the very first lines of the B*Witched classic, C’est le vie. And it’s only by listening to those words that you can really appreciate just how good The Spice Girls actually were. And that has to be a worth rewarding, doesn’t it?

2. Alcohol. From Guinness to Baileys to Bulmers/Magners and back to Guinness again. The Irish know how to drink. Sadly, many Briton’s don’t, which is why…

3. Hurling – a pursuit played out on the fields of Ireland – has become particularly popular on the streets of the UK. Just after closing time. And that in turn is why the British paracetamol industry remains so strong. Thanks Ireland.

4. James Bond. It is not often said that Pierce Brosnan did for Britain’s finest secret agent what Nasser Hussain did for the England Cricket team, but it’s true. Both picked up a beleaguered enterprise and through sheer bloody mindedness and the help of their respective peers in the form of Dame Judi Dench and Duncan Fletcher, turned it into something quite beautiful. Or at least passable. Better than it was anyway. And for that we should be eternally thankful. No one wants to watch Licence To Kill followed by the 1989 Ashes highlights.**

5. Sir Terry Wogan. Not only did he provide a superior earful for the more sophisticated radio listener than say Christopher Moyles, he also made the debacle that is The Eurovision Song Contest relatively enjoyable. Mainly because he talked over both presenters and songs alike. While slowly getting sloshed on whiskey. And getting away with it. He also introduced me to Gina G. And when you are twelve you like that kind of thing.

6. Leprechauns. Oddly, and rather ridiculously in my opinion, the people of the UK seem to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day more than St. George’s Day, St. Andrew’s Day and St. David’s Day combined. But at least on 17th March Trafalgar Square is full of honorary Leprechauns instead of bloody pigeons.

7. Home Comforts. Wherever I have been in the world, I always find an Irish pub. Not on purpose, it’s just there. Being all Irish at me. And it’s a nice feeling. Not because it adds to the ambiance of the street, but because I know I’ve found somewhere to watch the rugby. And for that I have always been eternally thankful.

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**If ever you wanted an example of a reason where I start writing without an idea of where it is heading, this is it.

November 22, 2010
7 Reasons Prince Harry Should Get Married Right Away

1. Brothers. I am going to state a well-known fact here, so bear with me. It’s important. Harry is younger than William. As an older brother myself, I like to try and set an example for my younger sibling to follow. What I don’t like, is when he goes off at his own tangent and out does me by doing it his way. Which is what he did with exams. And girls. It basically makes me feel like a loose part. The thing is though, he bloody loved it. And he’s not alone. All younger siblings like getting one over their elders. And what better way for Harry to ‘reign’ on William’s parade, by getting married now? To some girl called Bianca. From Essex.

2. Hyperbole. Unless you have been stuck on the toilet since early Tuesday morning, you will have seen the hyperbolic attention that the pending marriage between William and Kate has received. (I was very tempted to write hyperbollocks, but didn’t as my Mum might learn how to use a computer one day and read this). Don’t get me wrong, it’s not that I am not very happy for them, I am. Indeed, in my role as a proud Briton and appreciator of our history I will no doubt raise a Pimm’s on the day. It’s just that so much has been spoken and yet so much of it is just nonsense. On Wednesday Jeremy Vine decided that the discerning Radio 2 listener had the ability to offer our future Queen advice. I switched off. I may be very wide of the mark, but I suspect that should Miss Middleton need advice she is far more likely to phone her Mum than download a Jeremy Vine podcast. And basically, my point is that Prince Harry should get married now, so that we don’t have to listen to all this claptrap again in five years.

3. Journalism. It’s a headline writer’s dream. You probably haven’t realised this yet, what with Wills’ wedding overshadowing absolutely everything, and not caring and all, but Harry rhymes with marry. That’s right! We can expect to see Happy Harry to Marry (Daily Mail), A Harriage Made In Heaven (Daily Star), and Son of Murdered Diana to Wed (Daily Express). And now that there are civil partnerships his options aren’t limited to marrying a Carrie, he can marry a Barry or a Larry too. Or a Keith.

4. Tradition. Over the past century or so, royal standards have eroded to the point where it’s now commonplace for royals to marry commoners. That’s right; the likes of you. William is marrying one as well. But there’s still hope. Harry can turn back the tide of decay by choosing to have a proper royal marriage to a girl that he’s related to. And that will be a return to the grand royal tradition, to the days when the many crowned heads of Europe would assemble for important gatherings at which there would be several hundred attendees, but only one face, and the only way to distinguish between any of them would be their facial hair and – in the case of the Kaiser – his pointy helmet and his propensity to invade the drawing room.

Where's Willhelm?

5. Hair. Let’s face it, His Royal Highness, Prince Henry Charles Albert David of Wales has a ginger bonce. Given the family propensity for hair loss – and we have no reason to assume that this will skip a generation, none whatsoever – he’s likely to be both balding and ginger soon. He needs to marry at once in order to avoid looking like a cross between Patsy Palmer and Prince Edward in his wedding pictures, because there is nothing in Photoshop that can rescue that. Nothing.

6. Divorce. Whenever anyone gets divorced, it’s sad. Even if there is much jubilation from both parties. To think that once these two people loved each other so much that they wanted to make that vision of spending the rest of their lives together a reality. Or they met in Las Vegas. Either way, come the final separation, there is sadness. I defy anyone who says otherwise. Unfortunately, for whatever reason (again, probably seven) the incumbent Royal Family have a history of unhappy marriages. So much so that they have employed a designer to add a little sparkle to their divorce papers. Because it will almost certainly happen again. Though I think it is unlikely to be William and Kate. I suspect, if you walked into any betting shop, you would find the odds on Prince Harry getting divorced to be much shorter than those of his brother. And while I hope it doesn’t happen, it may. And if it does Prince Harry may wish to find someone else to spend his time with. Which leads me nicely onto the point of this reason. If Prince Harry marries right now, he has more time in the future if it goes wrong.

7. It’s The Economy, Stupid. In case you haven’t noticed, Britain is in a recession. And it isn’t going well. To cut costs, we’re going to share the defence of the realm with the French (which is actually a good idea…for a sitcom. Or for Germany) and, if the recession hits any harder we’ll have to take more drastic action: Swingeing health cuts or selling the Queen or something. But wait! According to esteemed financial publication, The Sun, the forthcoming wedding of Wills and Kate will boost the economy by a billion pounds. That’s right. A billion pounds. So if Harry gets married sharpish, that’ll be two billion pounds into the nation’s coffers. And if we can get them breeding, in twenty or thirty years time, with the resultant glut of royal weddings, Britain will once again become one of the most prosperous nations on the planet.*

*And we can all start wearing top hats again.**

**Except in the cinema.

November 19, 2010
7 Reasons Ian Dury’s ‘Reasons To Be Cheerful: Part 3’ Is Unreasonable: Part 1.

I am not the biggest Ian Dury fan, if he’s not encouraging people to hit him with their rhythm sticks he’s giving reasons as to why we should be cheerful. And, as I am sure you are aware by now, that’s our job. Following on from the world-wide success of analysing the New Radicals’ Someday We’ll Know and Owl City’s Fireflies, I thought I’d try and rip both the heart and soul out of Ian Dury’s Reasons To Be Cheerful: Part 3. The problem is, he gave so many reasons this is only part one. This could also be construed as bad news. Very bad news.

1. Some Of Buddy Holly. While Buddy did enlighten our lives with classic such as ‘Peggy Sue’, ‘Oh Boy!’ and ‘That’ll Be The Day’ he also died in a plane crash. So you have to ask, which part of Buddy Holly actually made Ian Dury cheerful? I suspect his glasses.

2. The Working Folly. In 1979 times were tough. A bit like today. Now, I am not going to pretend I know what Ian Dury meant by ‘The Working Folly’, but I can see two possible meanings. A) The workers of the day were foolish. B) It was foolish to be working. Let’s analyse each of these. Beginning with A. The workers of the day were foolish. I don’t see why this would make you cheerful. Now let’s move to B. It was foolish to be working. I don’t see why this would make you cheerful. Right, that’s that covered then.

3. Good Golly Miss Molly. You can decide for yourselves but I fail to be cheered by a man who looks like Danny Glover, Whitney Houston, Chris Kamara, Oprah and Eddie Murphy rolled into one. It’s very unnerving. If you don’t believe me, take a look here. He’s the one who appears after the bloke who looks like John Goodman.

4. Boats. What, like ferries and fishing trawlers? Yes, they’re lovely. Or perhaps you mean those big ships that keep you hostage for weeks? You know, cruise liners.

5. Hammersmith Palais. It closed in 2007. Someone tried to get planning permission to build student flats on the site.

6. Bolshoi Ballet. When you think about it, the Bolshoi Ballet is a bit like a fraternity. A brotherhood. A club. A cult. Children from as young as the age of nine are roped into the Bolshoi Ballet Academy and face a life of being forced to wear tutus and stand on their toes. And then, in a move of grotesque public humiliation, they are forced to perform in front of an expectant audience.

7. Jump Back In The Alley. Goodness knows where this alley is, but my research shows that it is probably a place where a lot of impromptu sexual acts happen. Disgusting. Get a room and shut the curtains. Or better still, go home and watch the cricket. You’ll feel much more cheered. And less dirty.

November 18, 2010
7 Reasons That Postcards Should Be More Honest

Postcards. They’re not honest enough. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Blackpool. This is what a holiday in Blackpool actually looks like. I’ve been there. Many times. Other postcards may not show this, but forewarned is forearmed.

2. Bondi Beach. Sending a postcard from Australia, where it’s nice and warm and sunny you’re having a good time is ostentatious and likely to cause the recipient a pang of envy. Negate the envy by showing the reality. That you’re being eaten by a shark. Or a crocodile. Or a spider.

3. Welwyn Garden City. If the postcard isn’t honest, the recipient might get a false impression of a destination and may choose to visit it themselves. This would be a mistake.

4. Slough! You don’t want to get people’s hopes up about what they can expect as a present. Unless you show the iconic local product on your postcard, they might expect all sorts of exotica: A sombrero; a stuffed donkey; a bottle of wine in a wicker basket; an owl. You need to let them know that they aren’t getting any of these things.

5. The Natural History Museum. Or, you can subvert an entire genre of postcards and send this. That should make the recipient nervous until your return.

6. Yorkshire. You don’t want the recipient to feel as if they’re missing out on lots of sunshine, warmth and an exotic climate. Let them know what the weather’s really like where you are.

7. Candour. Ever wondered why the sender always returns from holiday before the postcard? Well wonder no more. It’s because they don’t care enough about you.

November 17, 2010
7 Reasons Your Heart Goes Boom (According To Lyricists)

There are many words that appear many times in many songs. ‘Love’ for example. Or ‘the’. Another three words are ‘heart’, ‘goes’ and ‘boom’. In that order. And it is those three words we are going to concentrate on today. Though we will replace ‘goes’ with ‘went’ more frequently than initially anticipated. You see, ‘heart goes boom’/’heart went boom’ are phrases that rarely pop up in general conversation. Marc has never said to me, ‘I went cycling earlier. I saw a cow and my heart went boom’. And I have never said to Marc, ‘I went cycling earlier.’ Mainly because I don’t have a bike. But I digress, despite the fact that we don’t readily use such phrases, it doesn’t prevent them popping up in lyrics. Here are seven such examples of hearts going boom:

This Heart Has The Potential To Go Boom

1. ‘Zoom, Just One Look’. The idea that it takes just one look – and apparently a Zoom! ice lolly – for one’s heart to boom, is the brainchild of Fat Larry’s Band. And I find it hard to disagree. Zoom! ice lollies were substantially underrated by many at Nutley CofE Primary School.

2. ‘When You Are Near’. The first of two Eurovision entrants in today’s post comes from pint-sized Scottish singer Lulu. Her heart goes boom when you are near. Which must be quite embarrassing if she is surround by more than six people. Especially when you consider that her heart also goes bang-a-bang. I imagine that’s probably enough booming and bang-a-banging to unhook her bra. Not that I’m imagining that. But if I were – which I’m not – then, erm, that would be embarrassing.

3. ‘Walk Into An Empty Room’. 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. Mind you, she also reckons an angel is playing with her heart…

4. ‘Walking Down The Street’. That’s when the hearts of French Affair went boom. Who? Yes, exactly. I had never heard of them either. And I liked it that way. But the thing about doing 7 Reasons as opposed to, say, 3 Reasons, is that you have to scour the internet for reasons that didn’t immediately strike you. As such, I found the above atrocity. It’s not so much that the song is rubbish…well, actually, yes it is. But they also speak French in it. They may as well have insulted my mother. Perhaps they did. My French is not what is used to be.

5. ‘Walked Right Out Of The Machinery’. Peter Gabriel should probably think himself quite lucky that his heart is still with him to go boom if he has just walked out of the machinery. Generally speaking, if one gets trapped in machinery, they die. Either quickly. Or slowly. You probably won’t listen to Solsbury Hill in the same way ever again.

6. ‘When She Walks In The Room’. Given that ‘walking’ has provided the reason for heart booms three times in a row, it would seem inappropriate to stop. So I haven’t. I now have the pleasure of presenting you with The Moffats. Who? Yes, exactly. I had never heard of them either. On first inspections – and there will only ever be one – I would position them somewhere between Hanson and McFly. Though I would probably wear gloves during the process. For what it’s worth The Moffats are from the same stock as Lulu. Their hearts feature additionally banging. And why not? (Find out next Monday. Probably.)

7. ‘When they see you baby’. Not before time, we have our second Eurovision contestants. And they come in the form of Charmed. Who? Yes, exactly. I had never heard of the either. Now I know that’s getting repetitive, but you have to believe me. Before today I had never heard of the Norwegian entrants to Eurovision 2000. And, to be frank, I wish it had remained that way. They appear to be a poor witches B*Witched. On the plus side, at least they are more inventive with their lyrics than some of the above. Not a mention of the word ‘walking’ anywhere.

November 16, 2010
7 Reasons That James Blunt Must Be Stopped

You may agree with Dave Cameron; you may follow Nick Thing; you may be a supporter of Mad Elliband; you may be a devotee of that Scottish man with a name like a fish. It doesn’t matter, because there’s one cause that everyone must unite behind: Stopping James Blunt. And be in no doubt whatsoever, James Blunt must be stopped. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Ubiquity. He’s bloody everywhere. On everything. I can’t turn on my television or my radio at the moment without James Blunt being on it. I can’t visit websites – though I’m aware I’m now partially responsible for this – or open newspapers (yes, newspapers, those paper things from the past that existed before this screen in front of you with these words on. He’s in them too) without seeing or hearing him. James Blunt has – in the last fortnight – achieved total, absolute, all-permeating multi-platform media omnipresence. He’s in a magazine somewhere near me right now. And near you. In fact he’s in all of the magazines. Everywhere. All over the place. Being James Blunt.

2. He’s Becoming Weirder. Remember when Tom Cruise seemed normal? No? Well some of us have long memories and he did once. Before he split up with Penelope Cruz; before he started jumping up and down on Oprah’s sofa; before he began espousing odd birthing techniques, Tom Cruise didn’t seem all that weird. But he does now. And the same thing is happening to James Blunt. He used to look and seem relatively at one with the world, but the more I see him, and the more I see him respond to external stimuli (interviews, conversation etc) by grinning inanely and then grinning inanely some more, the more he reminds me of Tom Cruise. Which is the slippery slope to weirdness.

3. His Hair. Have you seen his hair? I’m about to skirt the accepted boundaries of heterosexuality right here and right now, but I don’t care; because James Blunt’s hair used to be lovely. Absolutely fucking lovely. A dark, lustrous, bounteous, luxuriant barnet; a follicular paragon; a mane to rival the legendary tresses of both Samson and Aniston, but have you seen it recently? When he appeared on Have I Got News For You (and Never Mind The Buzzcocks and Daybreak and The One Show and BBC Breakfast and T4 and Something For The Weekend and London Tonight and The Graham Norton Show) it looked like he’d painted a brillo pad orange and stuck it down to his head. I don’t know how this is happening to his hair or why it’s happening; but what if it’s catching? What if it happens to my hair?! Or yours?

Seriously. What has happened here and is it contagious?

4. The Bath. And then last night it all became even stranger. Because, when I was listening to a politics programme on BBC Radio 5Live in the bath (on a rare occasion that it wasn’t full of champagne and dancing girls), they announced that they were about to interview James Blunt. Oh God, I thought. I’m trapped. I’ve just put on my facial mud (for MEN) and now I’m going to be stuck in the bath for twenty minutes listening to James Blunt…again. And I was. And I couldn’t even put my head under the water to cover my ears or to drown myself because of the mud. So I had to listen. And listen I did. I listened to James Blunt recount the time that he disobeyed orders from his commanders in Kosovo and didn’t attack the Russians, thus averting a massive East-West conflict. That’s right, James Blunt saved us from World War III. And while, at the bottom of my heart, I knew that not having a third world war was probably a good and desirable thing, I couldn’t help thinking that if we’d had a third world war, James Blunt would never have been allowed to leave the army and we’d never have had to listen to his music, and he wouldn’t be bloody everywhere; all over the place; even in my bath.

5. The Song. And sure enough, as I lay there unable to escape from James Blunt: Saviour of the World, they played the song. The same song that I’ve heard everywhere, every time that James Blunt has appeared over the last fortnight: You’re Beautiful. The one James Blunt song that I know, apparently the one James Blunt song that everyone knows. There are others, sure, but can you name them? No, and I can’t either. I, a musical man with an enviable collection of music; a man for whom music has been a passion for his entire life. A man who owns all four Electrelane studio albums, and has most of the Os Mutantes albums on original vinyl. I can’t name more than one James Blunt song and neither can anyone else except his fans, and even they can’t do it with any certainty. And having heard it sodding everywhere for the past fortnight (even the Sesame Street version) it came as a blessed relief later on, to turn the television, the computer and the radio off knowing that I would escape from it. And then my wife started humming the bloody thing (having presumably absorbed it through some sort of osmosis) and, while I couldn’t help but agree with her sentiments, it was still the same damned song…again. But off key.

6. Then There’s His Name. James Blunt’s name is James Blunt. That’s right: James Blunt. And you might think to a humourist, that it would offer all manner of potential, but it doesn’t. Quite the opposite, in fact. Because it rhymes with the one word in the English language that you can never, ever use without losing the sympathy of your reader. If he were called James Bluck, James Block, James Blank, James Blick, James Blit, James Bliss, James Blits, or James Brance I might conceivably be able to make fun of him in rhyme. But I can’t. Because his name is Blunt. And do know what’s really annoying about it? It isn’t even his real name. He changed it. His original name is Blount: Pronounced Blunt.

7. And This Is The Worst Part. He seems like a nice guy. A man who, despite being everywhere with his one song irritating the hell out of you, me and all those other people standing about and clogging the pavements, actually seems to have substance. A man who has a mind of his own and is no mere vacuous, avaricious, chancer like many contemporary popular musicians. A man who has served his country in combat and has come out of the experience intact and has forged a successful post-army life for himself; sadly in contrast to many ex-servicemen who often don’t get the support that they deserve and that we owe them. A man who goes back and performs concerts for the troops and is a vociferous advocate of, and fundraiser for, Médecins Sans Frontières. And that makes criticism of him hard. And it probably makes me look like a bit of a count. But please, for the love of god, James. Stop. Enough. We all know we’re beautiful and we need a break now.

November 15, 2010
7 Reasons I Should Have Made My Omelette First

Yesterday I made an omelette. Two in fact. While I don’t except any congratulations for this – I have, after all, done the same many times before – I am not averse to receiving any adulation you wish to bestow. That said, given the state of the second omelette – the one I had – you may find it more fitting to belittle and mock. I won’t hold it against you if this is your choice. I am, however, going to explain why the second omelette was such a disaster. There are – as I am sure you would expect – mitigating circumstances surrounding the event. Probably seven.

1. Rushing. I don’t know whether you have ever made two omelettes before, I suspect you are not as maverick as I and as such have not. Let me tell you now though, it is not as easy as it sounds. Unless you are a greedy bugger – or hungry – the chances are you are making two omelettes because there are two people wishing to have one. This was the case last night. I wanted one. My girlfriend agreed that she would have one. Being nice and not wishing to relinquish control of the frying pan, I made my girlfriend her omelette first. But then I wanted to eat mine with her. (I have long suspected we are the last two romantics in the Maidstone catchment area.) As a result I rushed the manufacture of my omelette. And as I am sure you are aware, a premature omelette is not an omelette at all. It’s a mess.

2. The Difficult Second Omelette. We have all heard of the phrase, ‘the difficult second album’. Apart from maybe Oasis. And Toploader. Though admittedly Toploader struggled with their first album too so maybe that doesn’t count. Anyway, I digress. My point is that the pressure was on and, instead of just concentrating on making the second omelette the best it could be, I tried to make it as good as the first omelette. As soon as I did that I was in competition with myself. And I cracked under the strain.

3. Whisking. The trick with making a good omelette mixture is not too whisk it too much. I forgot that it had been whisked before the making of omelette number one. So I whisked before construction of number two. The result was too light and runny. As a result I got air pockets under my omelette. I was trying to salvage the mission from that point on. And that is not an environment conducive to success.

4. Mixture Fail. There is also another reason omelette one was more a success. There was enough mixture to comfortably fill the frying pan. When it came to the second effort, there wasn’t. I’ll be honest. I was stretching the credibility of myself as an omelette maker here. Without enough mixture I added a little milk straight into the frying pan. That was stupid. The frying pan spat it back at me.

5. Tosser. To toss or not to toss? This question is widely debated in omelette making circles. I adhere to the point of view that – before filling is added – the omelette should be tossed. Yesterday, I tossed one of the omelettes and didn’t the other. I’ll let you guess which is which.

6. Filling. We have a rule in our house. As I am the man, I have more food. I like this rule and I didn’t even think of it. So when it came to filling the omelettes, I made sure there was more filling for me. Unfortunately, the amount of filling was calculated on how big the omelette would be. As my omelette was 80% of it’s intended size I really should have put 80% of the filling inside. But I didn’t. I’m a man. So I put it all in. And then I tried to fold the omelette in half. And that is when it snapped at the seams.

7. Manoeuvring. Taking the omelette from pan to plate should be a simple process. Assuming you have actually made an omelette it is possible to tilt the pan and watch the omelette slide into position. Which is what happened with omelette one. Omelette two though wasn’t an omelette. It was a mess. And the mess containing cheese which was now sticking to the pan. I had no option but to shovel it out. And that’s what I did.

November 12, 2010