Oranges. They’re a really, really poor fruit. Here’s a film which explains why.

Oranges. They’re a really, really poor fruit. Here’s a film which explains why.

Hello, it’s a Jon week. In terms of Russian Roulette Sunday anyway. In terms of general living, every week is a Jon week. If it wasn’t I’d be dead or something. And no one wants that. Especially Marc. All the reasons and all the lemons would drive him insane. So, anyway, back to today. If you were with us in January, you may remember we took a look at some of the words Marc and I have exchanged with each other in the making of 7 Reasons. Have a read here if you were washing your hair that day. Not only was it funny, it was very easy to write. Which is basically our ideal kind of post. So we’ve decided to do it again. Right here. Right now. Enjoy.
“I think it’s fairly obvious, I’m a spaceman.”
“I haven’t done the same, that would be lazy and unhelpful.”
“I am now hungover and not writing furiously about lemons.”
“I may have something sensible to say later.”
“I think camp bingo is like gay bingo. But in a field.”
“Ouch.”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”
“Canasta.”
“Well done on the lemons.”
“7 Reasons Guy Fawkes Should Have Been Called Lady Spoons?”
“I’d like to point out that a man in Russia found your socks and sandals piece yesterday.”
“If I take the name of York’s most famous son (his birthplace is a four minute walk from here) in vain, an angry mob will probably form outside my door.”
“I shall have an Alka-Seltzer and some lemon juice.”
“That’s £22.50 each per month that we’re not making now. That’s progress.”
“In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have put it straight in. That’s ovens for you though.”
“I’m back! Did you miss me?”
“Would you be totally insulted if I said I didn’t?”
“I was writing about dough balls. It does happen occasionally.”
“The only thing I liked about it was the end. A bit like when my parents used to listen to the Archers at dinner.”
“How about a cat hoverboard?”
“Oh, and Esquire magazine bought David Baddiel lunch today. Have they said anything about buying us lunch?”
“Excuse me a minute, I have a Jehovah Witness shaped problem.”
“I’m not sure it’s totally necessary, but it looks pretty. A bit like Kate Moss.”
“Let me know if you need a lemon.”
“Nice lemon on the sofa. Very funny.”
“Marc. Spiffing. Jon.”
“I have added my thoughts in curly lines that look like sperm.”
“I’ve never liked the French.”
“I tried to write a piece about beards once.”
“I’m like the world’s slowest genius.”
“We are like the tortoise and the tortoise.”
“Something went wrong. I think I shut it too tightly.”
“Photoshopping top trumps cards is more time consuming than I imagined.”
“I’m off to visit the shed.”
“I’m off to the greenhouse of neurosis.”
“I’ve tried shouting at it and that isn’t working.”
“A boy just fell off his bike. I’m laughing. Shall I go and pick him up?”
“That’s like liking Hitler more than Atilla The Hun and New Kids On The Block.”
“Ken, when in doubt, pretend to be a grown-up. It never fails.”
“I don’t have an issue with it. It’s probably the sadist in me. Or the beer.”
“I don’t think you’ve said Zara enough.”
“I hadn’t forgotten that you’re going to Rome, as in my mind it’s a tiramisu-related-event.”
“Bollocks.”
“Is it a cow?”
“It looked funny and I googled it.”

It’s Russian Roulette Sunday again (and ordinary Sunday too) and we’ve realised something: We’ve never given our readers a recipe before. We’ve requested them when under pressure; we’ve offered general lifestyle advice on how to do food correctly; and on how food should be consumed, but we’ve never been specific about how to prepare it. Until now.
This isn’t our own recipe, it’s one that we stumbled across on the internet while doing something else. But it’s safe to say that we were amazed by it. Flabbergasted. Dumbfounded. It’s a perfectly genuine recipe that features in an advert for the main ingredient and we haven’t in any way made it up.
In the past, we may have created and altered posters and passed them off as genuine, but we did that because we didn’t think that anyone would believe us, and we certainly didn’t imagine that thousands of people around the world would download those posters, presumably to use in essays and school projects. In fact, we feel fairly confident that, as World War II recedes further into history, and internet content becomes ever-more readily-accepted, those posters will come to be seen as genuine, and we – in our usual hapless manner – will have inadvertently caused a revision of history. We’re actually dreading the day that one of our posters turns up in a newspaper, or a book. Anyway, we’ve learned our lesson, and this poster is categorically not one of our creations.
You’re probably feeling a little peckish by now so, Ladies and Gentlemen, discerning readers of 7 Reasons (.org), we present to you, without any further ado…Planked SPAM.
Now, to some people, a meal consisting of SPAM on a plank might seem a little unconventional or unappetising, but rest assured: When you unveil this culinary master-stroke with a flourish, it will be “…greeted with cheers” by your jubilant dinner-guests. The advert says so, so it must be true. We’re not sure what wood the plank should be made from, though pine would probably be nice and fragrant, and less tough than oak. But you can experiment with your own planks, we wouldn’t want to ruin the fun. Let us know how you get on.

Howdy! I’ll give you two guesses as to who is writing this. Wrong! Correct! Yes, it’s me, Jon. Now for those of you who read 7 Reasons on a daily basis (I.E.: Marc) you’ll know that on Wednesday of this week I wrote a rather scathing piece about the modern day Blue Peter. I think it’s horrendous. This belief is not irrational, I did actually watch it. In my piece I criticised a lot of things. The presenters, the props and the theme tune to name just three. Mainly my angst was with the presenters though. I, rather harshly in hindsight, described them as ‘idiots’. I retract that now. They are not ‘idiots’. They’re just ‘playing idiots’. And there is a big distinction. I am sure many have read some of the stuff I have written on this site (Thursday for example) and thought I am an idiot. I’m not really, but I do act like one. For entertainment purposes. My own entertainment.
The reason I bring this up, is that one of the Blue Peter presenters, Andy Akinwolere, contacted 7 Reasons about the piece. It was hard to tell if he was annoyed, baffled or frustrated by my words, but I was glad he challenged me. Not because it means 7 Reasons is being read by an ever expanding audience, but because he believed I was wrong. And that’s great. I loved his passion. I loved the fact that he was compelled to say, ‘Oi Lee! What the hell are you on about? You’re wrong. So wrong!’ Or words to that effect anyway. At least, I think he thought I was wrong. Like, I say, it was hard to tell. Either way, after I had got over the rather boyish ‘ooh look, I have annoyed a Blue Peter presenter’ phase, I began to realise what this meant.
Much of my better, and some would say funnier, posts are based around me attacking/belittling/ripping to shreds a person/song/film/book. Janet Street-Porter, Tracy Emin, Owl City and the New Radicals have all faced the wrath of Jonathan Lee. Now the automatic assumption would be that I have an intense dislike of all of those. In fact, the truth is that I don’t. I am fairly indifferent to Janet Street-Porter (unless she talks). I am fairly indifferent to Tracy Emin (unless she tries to convince me that she’s an artist). I quite like Owl City’s Fireflies (despite the lyrics making no sense at all). I am very fond of the New Radical’s Someday We’ll Know (again, despite the absurd lyrics). And that I guess is the trouble with 7 Reasons. Sometimes, unless you are me, you don’t get the irony involved in some of these pieces. Just look at the comments beneath 7 Reasons The New Radicals Should Have Done Their Research Properly. It’s fair to say I am not on their Christmas card list.
Admittedly there is a difference between the New Radicals piece and the Blue Peter piece. One I like, the other I certainly don’t. And I think that’s the point. Despite all the abuse I received about the New Radicals post, I still like it. The abuse doesn’t bother me, in fact I think it’s quite amusing. I guess that’s the sadist in me. The Blue Peter piece though, I no longer like. And when I wrote it, I did. Whether Andy Akinwolere has pricked my conscience I don’t know, though I expect he has. I feel bad, not for criticising the props (balloons instead of rulers?), but for criticising the presenters. As I said before, I am not an idiot, but I do act like one. I suspect (and hope) that the current Blue Peter presenters do exactly the same. All be it for an audience that is twenty years younger than I. Fundamentally, that is what is wrong with the Blue Peter piece. I didn’t take the act of idiocy into account. Just as those who lambasted me for the New Radicals piece didn’t take my act of idiocy into account.
The reason I have written this, is not because we didn’t have any ideas for Russian Roulette Sunday this week, but because I genuinely find it to be an interesting development. As a writer. Only time will tell, but I hope that I will now write more considered 7 Reasons posts. Dare I say it, a bit like Marc.
I can only apologise if you are now bored and were in fact hoping for another film or a picture of Marc’s friend Katey wearing a cardboard cut-out of my face. And yes, one does exist.
Incidentally, I have asked Andy if he’d like to write, ‘7 Reasons You Are Completely Wrong About Blue Peter’. And I really hope he does. Because if he doesn’t think I am wrong, then he really should move on to Newsround now.

Hello! It’s me, Jon (the one with the ginger moustache and no feet if you’ve just been looking at our ‘About Us’ page). It’s Sunday and for a second Sunday in a row I am in charge of Sundays. Marc has taken the day off to be in charge of lemons. The more observant of you will have noticed a new category at the header of the site. ‘Top Posts’. As the name suggests, this category features our best posts. These have been determined by a number of factors, such as number of views, but it is in no way a definitive list. This is where you come in. In October, 7 Reasons will be celebrating its first birthday. We are already making plans and the lemon drizzle cake is only surpassed by the lemonade. On our birthday we would like to announce the greatest 7 Reasons post ever. As voted by you, our loyal, not so loyal and ‘how-the-hell-did-I-end-up-on-this-site’ readers. Our first aim is to create a shortlist of ten posts. And that, you’ll be pleased to hear, is your responsibility. Please feel free to check the Top Posts (and, if you are inclined, the rest of the site) and let us know which of the posts you loved/liked/thought were bearable. Then all you have to do is check back in two weeks time, when one of us (hopefully Marc) will have worked out how the hell we do a poll on this site. Thanks for your help!
Oh, and one lucky voter will win a signed lemon. Or two. Or ten.

Happy Sunday to you. Now, regular readers will no doubt be aware that we were hoping to make our debut in Esquire Magazine this month. Sadly, we haven’t. However, we are optimistic that we will make our bow in November. The delay got us thinking though. Which other magazines have we failed to make an appearance in this month? As it goes, all of them. Thankfully, in what will come as both a relief to you and our keyboards, we aren’t going to explain why we are not in every single magazine out there. That would take years. And quite frankly none of us have that much time to waste. Instead, we are just going to pick seven. Because seven is the correct number. So, here are seven other magazines we didn’t get in this month. And why. If you’ve spotted a magazine we’re not in, please do let us know in the comments section. And if you find a magazine we are in, we’d appreciate you let us know that too.
1. Beano. The 7 Reasons comic-strip promised so much. Two humorists, two cats* and a psychedelic penguin invade France. Who wouldn’t want to read that? Apart from Beano readers obviously. And the French.
2. Vanity Fair. Well, half the 7 Reasons team brought the vanity, sadly the other half forgot the dodgems. We’ll let you decide whom is who.
3. Wisden Cricketer. Despite Jon scoring a solid fifteen during his parent’s anniversary cricket match last Saturday, he still failed to make the current issue. Which is probably just as well considering it was his girlfriend that finally dismissed him.
4. Men’s Fudge. Notwithstanding the fact that at least 50% of the 7 Reasons team are strong advocates of fudge, this Japanese magazine still overlooked us. Probably because 100% of the 7 Reasons team are 100% interested in women. Two women. One each. No more. None. Let’s move on.
5. White Dwarf. For the uninitiated, this magazine solely deals with anything you might find in Games Workshop, i.e.: models of the wargaming genre. If you do happen to find a white dwarf in Games Workshop, well that’s just…erm…coincidence. He/she still won’t be featured. Or at least I assume they wouldn’t. That’s really the editors choice. And I’m not the editor. Anyway, I digress. We’re not in White Dwarf this week because we prefer making things out of paper.
6. Forbes. It’s their Celebrity 100 issue. The richest 100 celebrities. Given that 7 Reasons brings in approximately $2 in advertising revenue per day, we should be in this issue in circa July 43,676. Unless we have a spike, in which case we might make it into the January issue. That’s the aim anyway.
7. Motor Home. Marc and Jon in a campervan. I know what you’re thinking. And that’s why we’re not in this magazine either.
*One owned. The other, random.

Hello! It’s Sunday again, and the 7 Reasons team are away for the day. Half of the team is busy poisoning his friends and family with cookery, and the other half has managed to pick 4.2 kilograms more blackberries than he required and is wondering what the hell to do with the rest. If you have any ideas, please let us know. We have already made two years worth of jam and four litres of blackberry vodka and have now run out of ideas.
The 7 Reasons team have been busy updating the website recently and, as of yesterday, we are now able to host and play our own flv and swf files, which is something we’re very excited about. We sense that not everyone will be as enthused about this development as we are, so we’ve provided you with something short that’s guaranteed to make you happy. Just press play. (It’s even better in full screen). Play it as many times as you want, he won’t get tired.
[flv:http://7reasons.org/wp-content/uploads/2010/08/psypenjump1.flv 550 380]

It occurred to us that, although we’ve shown you how not to deal with a bear in the past, we’ve never shown you how to deal with a bear. Until now…

The phrase, “nobody likes a smartarse” is wrong. People do like smartarses: Look at the popularity of Stephen Fry.
We, the team at 7 Reasons, have decided to debunk this abjectly wrong saying via the medium of Facebook. If you like a smartarse – or are a smartarse who is liked – visit this new Facebook page and click the Like button. That’ll show the vacuous, unimaginative dullards that mindlessly trot out this idiotic phrase, once and for all, that they are very very wrong.
If we act together, we can perform a valuable public service by drawing attention to the stupidity of this phrase and, in turn, help to put a stop to its use. That is all.

Hello! Marc here. Happy Yorkshire Day. Regular visitors to the site will doubtless be aware that we’re expecting 7 Reasons: The Trailer to be ready very soon. But it isn’t ready yet. I didn’t want to sit about waiting for it to arrive though – as I am reliably informed that the devil will do something with my hands – so I decided to work on something else.
You might remember that a few months ago, in an attempt to encourage ambient advertising, Jon made PDF encoded masks that readers could order via email. They weren’t a great success though. From the moment we offered them, Jon was inundated with so many requests that our server crashed, causing us to receive none of the emails. Either that, or no one ordered one, we’re not sure which.
As I was waiting for the trailer though, I had a think. I realised that I could actually use one of these masks, perhaps profitably, so I decided to make one. I sent Jon an email requesting the mask PDF files and received this prompt response:
I don’t know where they are. Why do you want them? What are you up to, Fearns?
I sent an email back suggesting that they were probably somewhere near his computer and, quite soon thereafter, I received the PDF files. Here is a guide to making a 7 Reasons mask.
Step 1 (For some reason, I seem to be accustomed to numbering things): Print mask onto good quality paper. Find a similar sized piece of cardboard. Assemble tools (scissors, glue, double-sided sticky tape, a craft or Stanley knife and elastic).
Step 2: Discover that your wife has hidden a can of spray-mount in her bureau. Get very excited. Jump up and down. Abandon the double-sided sticky tape and the boring, conventional glue.
Step 3: Spray glue onto everything in the room (including own hand). Clean up mess using J cloth. Get wife to unstick your hand from the J cloth. Receive a withering look. Stick mask to cardboard.
Step 4: Using the scissors, cut the excess material from the mask. Unstick your hand from the mask. Go and wash your hands.
Step 5: Take your Stanley or craft knife and begin to gouge Jon’s eyes out. Wince and feel queasy while you do this. Tell the Jon mask not to look.
Step 6: Return the mask’s wink.
Step 7: Be un-nerved by zombie Jon.
Step 8: Using scissors, make small holes at the side of the mask and feed the elastic through them, tying it off with knots at the front; take special care not to include your little finger in the knot, as it will take an awful lot of shaking and swearing to extricate it.
Step 9: Put on mask. You are now ready to begin your crime spree.
Step 10: Wander into the living room and say, “Hello”. Your wife, once she has finished screaming and when her breathing has normalised will say, “don’t you dare wear that to bed”. Your cat will not say anything, but will exhibit a hitherto unimagined turn of speed as he bolts through the living room door and flees in the general direction of the kitchen. You will eventually find him, some hours later, in the garden hiding behind the compost bin. After many hours you will be able to tempt him out with biscuits, though he will refuse to enter the living room for several days.
So that’s how to wreak domestic havoc by making a mask, in ten simple steps. Next week, Jon demonstrates how to bring an end to Western civilisation by baking a potato. Or the trailer will be ready (we hope).