Category: Top Posts

7 Reasons You Should Not Kayak Across The Pacific Ocean

If you are one of these hipsters who likes to engage in social networking via the likes of facebook and twitter, it is very likely that one, two or maybe all of your friends have posted a ‘funny’ piece of travel advice they have found on Google Maps. I say ‘funny’ in inverted commas because it is actually a very serious matter. The matter I refer to is the ‘joke’ that tells prospective travellers to make the journey from the USA to Japan via the Pacific Ocean in a kayak. How utterly irresponsible. There are many, many reasons why one should not do as Google Maps suggests, but to save my sanity (and your life) here are just seven.

1. Food. An average kayaker will travel at 5mph. Given that Google Maps says the distance – via Hawaii – between USA and Japan is 2,756 miles, it will take the adventurer just over 551 hours to make the journey. That’s a touch under 23 days. That’s 23 days worth of food you have to take with you. Now, assuming – as is very likely considering the departure point – that the traveller is American, that’s 89,537 calories. Or 92.7 Big Mac Meals. A kayak has storage for about 20 Big Mac Meals. You do the maths.

2. Sharks. The good news is, that out of the 440 species of shark found on our planet, only 36 of them exist in the Pacific Ocean. (Approximately. I am sure others visit for a day now and then.) Unfortunately, within the 36 species is the Great White Shark. The Great White Shark accounts for 20% of worldwide shark attacks. And, just before you come back at me with the stat, ‘of the 108 unprovoked attacks within the Pacific Ocean in the 20th century, only five included kayakers,’ let me tell you that there has never, ever been a Great White Shark attack on a plane.

3. Paddle. You may have heard of the phrase, ‘Up the creek without a paddle’. For those of you who haven’t, it basically means you are in a very serious situation and you haven’t got a bloody clue how you are going to get out of it. If you drop your paddle between the USA and Japan, you can change the word ‘creek’ for ‘Pacific’ but you can’t change the meaning.

4. Iodine. The average human will die if they go for more than three days without water. Luckily, in the Pacific Ocean you will find loads of it. Unluckily, if you drink too much of it, you will also die. That’s because it’s saltwater. If you are going to survive you are going to have to desalinate the seawater. You can do this by either attaching a desalination plant to your kayak – in which case you’ll sink before you even leave the beach – or you can use iodine. You will have to leave ten Big Mac Meals behind, but to survive it is probably worth it. The problem comes when you try and desalinate your beaker of water. You’re in a kayak. On the ocean. It’s bumpy. You have your paddle in one hand, the iodine in the other and the beaker between your legs. Now, I’ve never tried desalinating my penile appendage, but if I did, the middle of the Pacific Ocean, in a kayak, is a place where I know I couldn’t possibly fail. Unless…

5. A Sudden Wave hits the kayak. In which case the iodine might go overboard and desalinate the whole of the Ocean. You are going to murder many, many saltwater fish. And you’re heading to Japan. A country that’s built on fish (one in ten fish is eaten there). They’re not going to greet you warmly are they?

6. Tankers. Generally these are big ships who have very little interest in small-fry like you in your kayak. Mainly because they are always on auto-pilot while the captain has a snooze. If you just happen to be having a snooze at the same time, you are going to get crushed. And, just a warning, if you do survive, there is no point in shouting ‘Tanker!’ at them and waving your fist, if you do, you’ll miss the giant squid that’s about to squirt you with ink.

7. Jovan Pestoric Will Kiss You. In doing my research for this post – I came across the following Yahoo! Answers page where Lovely had asked if it was possible to kayak across the Pacific Ocean. There were only a few answers. One gave Lovely some valuable advice and advised it was not possible. They then said ‘Have fun!’. Then Javon Pestoric announced, ‘yes!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! omg if u do it ill kiss u’. I have no idea who Jovan is and, if watching people kayak over the Pacific Ocean is his kind of fetish, I don’t think I want to know either.

November 10, 2010
7 Reasons I Feel Sorry For Dundee

I wouldn’t blame you if the subject for today’s post has passed you by. The only reason it didn’t pass me by is because I spend a great deal of my life browsing the world wide web for inspiration. Unfortunately I stumbled across this. Dundee is getting it’s very own V&A Museum. Yesterday, the winning design was chosen. Given the design of the Scottish Parliament Building, I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised that it was ugly. Curious as to what this abomination had been chosen over, I took a look at the shortlist. And then I realised I felt very sorry for Dundee indeed. Well, the whole of Scotland actually. Here is that shortlist:

1. The Stephen Holl Design. One of the first things you should notice about this is that you access the museum via one of those bridges you usually find spanning motorways should you wish to get from one service station to another. While this is a nice touch, I can’t be so complimentary about the rest of the design. It’s very tall, very thin and appears to be doing a bad impression of ‘the robot’. In other words, it’s a bit like Peter Crouch.

2. The Sutherland Hussey Design. What we have here is a box. With a few bits cut out. I used to have a Micro Machines military base that looked very similar. Only that was cool. To give the Architects some credit though, they have realised the error of their ways. That’s why they added a picture of a small boy trying to jump over the wall. I’d probably join him if I was confronted by this.

3. The REX Design. The last time I saw something like this, I was watching Superman. Only Superman wasn’t in Dundee, he was on Krypton. The effect, I suspect, would have been very similar though. What I particularly love about this design though, is that it clearly doesn’t have a roof. That’s why it’s filled with water. Genius.

4. The Snohetta with Gareth Hoskins Architects Design. I can’t comment on other angles, but from the one we are given above, all I can see is a submarine with a large whale not doing a very good job of hiding behind it. The submarine is also a bit too bling for me. I suspect it will blind more visitors than satisfy them. On the plus side, nice use of the skateboard ramp on the walkway.

5. The Delugan Meissl Design. If you are not thinking, ‘Sydney Opera House meets Pyramids meets Lord’s Cricket Ground Media Centre meets Alien Aircraft’ then there is something a bit wrong with one of us. And I am pretty sure it’s not me. Ignoring the design for a second, there is also something unreal about the architects impression. Bright blue sky. It just doesn’t happen in Dundee. As the other images on this page will confirm.

6. The Kengo Kuma Design. Before we go any further, let me tell you right now that this design won. That’s right, the Dundee V&A Museum is going to look like an image that hasn’t quite quite loaded properly. That, though, is just about the only criticism I have. Everything else (i.e.: the water, the sky and lack of people with dogs) I love. Good job.

7. The 7 Reasons Design. This didn’t make the shortlist, but I still see it as an improvement on all of the above. We’ve gone for ‘minimillistic with a casual twist’. The casual twist is the upside down brick. I can’t see any problems with this design, except maybe the fact that the building sits on the water and we haven’t provided a walkway for visitors. This might just encourage people to visit the proper V&A Museum in London though. So it’s win-win.

November 4, 2010
7 Reasons We Should Trick Or Treat Ourselves Out Of The Deficit

At 7 Reasons (.org) we’re humourists, writers, film-makers and…well…those things. Occasionally though – very occasionally – we branch out. And today is one of those days. Because we’ve just had a really good idea. A brilliant idea, in fact. Britain can drag itself out of the current recession by trick-or-treating. Yes, that’s right. we really did just say “Britain can drag itself out of the current recession by trick-or-treating”. And it will work. Here are seven reasons why:

1. History. In Victorian Britain, you could barely move for ragamuffins up chimneys and urchins being put to work in blacking factories. Not to mention girls in t’mill or plying their trade as occasional flower-vendors. And Britain was the most prosperous, powerful and advanced society of the age; all built on the ruthless exploitation of children. Trick-or-treating our way out of the deficit is essentially a more modern and palatable version of the Victorian model. History commands us to do it.

2. Big Society. Love them or hate them, the Tory flagship policy is something called the ‘Big Society’. The premiss, if we understand it correctly, is that it empowers local people. Demanding treats from old ladies is also pretty empowering. Some people, especially those with chainsaws, are really good at getting big treats. Logic dictates therefore, that trick-or-treating is right up Big Society’s street. Which is convenient as this is where we should all be going on Sunday night. With or without tree surgeon utensils.

3. Balance of Payments. Americans are the greatest per capita consumers of confectionery in the world*. Having trick-or-treated vast quantities of sweets from our neighbours, we can export them to America. Not only will this be a healthy profit for Britain, it will also be a healthy profit for America; the nation that owns most British sweet manufacturers. This perpetual transatlantic sweet transaction will enrich both nations to the point where they will be able to rid themselves of their burdensome debts and counter the economic threat of emerging nations such as China and India.**

4. Incentive. Trick-or-treating happens once a year. Assuming you are doing it properly that is. If we fail to eradicate the deficit this year, we will have to live through a year of cuts until October 30th 2011 when we’ll get another go. Paper cuts, however necessary, are bad. Bread knife cuts, however necessary, are even worse. Bowl cuts, however necessary, are worse still. And they are nothing compared to the cuts, however necessary, that the coalition have just announced. So if you don’t want to get cut, get out there and get some money. Or some Dairy Milks.

5. Pumpkins. Most people who knock on doors and ask for a donation carry charity boxes. The volume of these is seldom satisfactory and rarely saves so much as a tin of tuna let alone a Whale. A pumpkin however can be very satisfactory in size. So, once you’ve hollowed out your pumpkin – but before you’ve made eyes and stuck a candle inside – whip up and down the street a few times. Actually, make it once. People might get annoyed/poor if you get repetitive. Oh, and once you’ve finished with your pumpkin, sell it. Ideally to Americans. They wear them on their heads.

6. George Osborne. Only time will tell, but given the current economic climate it is likely that Osborne will go down in history as either a genius or a buffoon. It’s fair to say, that at the time of writing, many people think he is a buffoon and they’d like to give him a slap on the chops. To others though, he is seen as a strongly-willed man making tough decisions when they are required. These people want to shake his hand. Sadly, George doesn’t have enough hands or chops to go around. Which is where this genius 7 Reasons idea comes in: Many people like dressing up and wearing masks when they set about trick or treating. This year all trick-or-treaters should wear a George Osborne mask. This way, for one night only, people all over the land get the chance to slap or shake the Chancellor.

7. They Shoot Horses, Don’t They? In the Great Depression (the last time things were this bad) people kept themselves entertained by participating in many dubious activities and entertainments: Dance marathons, jigsaw puzzles, penny-a-card bingo, pointing at aeroplanes and beating hoops with sticks were all popular leisure activities during the 1930s. By using these soporifically tedious activities to distract themselves from the straitened economic circumstances and widespread hardship, people were able to gaily throw their woes aside and the national mood – in contrast to the economy – was one of buoyancy. In 2010, we can learn from the past. By participating in something as brain-achingly tedious as walking up and down the street in the cold and meeting the neighbours – or ceaselessly answering the front door and meeting the neighbours – we will improve national morale and, with a new, breezy confidence to fortify it, the nation will boldly march its way clear of the deficit. And all because of trick-or-treat.***

*We assume, based on having seen them.

**This should work. We have no idea why “professional” economists didn’t think of this sooner.

***The 7 Reasons team can be hired for the writing of manifestos and speeches and are willing to discuss the exchange of principles for money. Or tea. Or tiramisu.

October 28, 2010
7 Reasons That The Correct Font is Important

Fonts: Sometimes we don’t pay enough attention to them, but choosing the correct one is vital for your project; be it a full blown advertising campaign, a sign for your office, a Christmas card or a publicity photo. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Playfulness. Kristen is a lovely, whimsical, childlike font which, when used correctly, imbues the work with a sense of playfulness and naivety. When used incorrectly however, it is not as effective:

The message Drive to the East was intended as a call to invasion and conquest. This poster may still encourage people to drive East, but now they’ll be doing it in Smart cars whilst drinking Innocent smoothies and listening to Death Cab For Cutie. The Kristen font is too jaunty for Hitler.

2. Menace. Similarly, Fraktur is a font associated with much Nazi propaganda and many of their legal notices. When used in this context however, it rather blurs the message:

Even the sad face can’t rescue this one. The font exudes menace and it makes it appear more of a threat than an appeal: That if you don’t give them money, ranks of jack-booted stormtroopers will goose-step on poor Flopsy. :’-( Still quite an effective message though.

3. Cool. Some fonts – Sidewalk in this instance – are rather cool and edgy and, when used sparingly, can really make an impact.

When making a sign for the office kitchen though, they tend to work less well. The thoughts of the users of the office kitchen will probably range from, “What in god’s name is that abomination on the wall?!” to, “Wow! Emma’s like the coolest person ever to have put up a sniffy notice about washing teacups. Ever.”

4. Minimalism. The moon: A cold, empty, stark place which requires an appropriately minimal font and, when putting together an article on whether man will return to the moon, it’s important to use one. And not this:

French Script really isn’t doing this picture any favours. It’s over-elaborate, cluttered, and just not spacey enough. And it’s French. They’ve never been to the moon. They rarely go as far as Sussex.

5. Seasonality. Christmas: Evocative of roaring fires, presents, carol singing, peace, goodwill and happy families spending quality time together at home.

But when your Christmas card features the Digital Readout Thick Upright font, you introduce the spectre of The Terminator into the traditional family Christmas, and that doesn’t seem like it will go well. Even if he does bring presents from the future.

6. Clarity. Clean crisp fonts such as Gill Sans exude class. With a plain, unfussy font your carefully chosen words are showcased to their best advantage. The BBC use Gill Sans, and the famous Volkswagen Lemon advert used a similar font. Sometimes though, it’s not a good idea to go minimal:

Because the reader’s attention is drawn to every error and mad utterance in your crazed internet rant. And yes, I did cut and paste this from a comment on one of our posts. Answers on a postcard?

7. Gasp! There’s a lot of snobbery around the use of MS Comic Sans. And many perfectly reasonable people say that it should never, ever be used; there are websites and Facebook groups that campaign against it. But they’re wrong. Because I’ve found a use for it:

You can use it to take perfectly good, artfully shot publicity photos, and make them funnier. I’m so happy with this one that I’m not even going to charge for it. Finally, a use for Comic Sans.

October 26, 2010
7 Reasons Rome Clearly Had It In For Me

As an Englishman, when I travel abroad I like to cause as little trouble as possible. Sadly, when I went to Rome, trouble looked for me.

1. Roads. Now, call me a traditionalist, but I like two things from my roads. One: they should be fit for vehicles to manoeuvre up and down, and two: there should be occasional sets of traffic lights where those who have decided to travel upon foot can cross the road safely. While Rome provides both roads and traffic lights, it seems as if someone forgot to tell the drivers to stop when the little green man appears. As a result my holiday was nearly abruptly ended by six cars, two buses, fourteen mopeds and one skater.

2. Maps. I know it sounds like a cliche, but when one sees a free map, they should pick it up. I did just that. And for most of the first day I was able to understand it – we were still in Rome at least. That was until I started walking back to the hotel. The designers, in their Italian wisdom, had decided to mark the main tourist attractions on the map using small, 3D illustrations. And, to be fair to them, they did resemble the real-life draws. Unfortunately, they rarely appeared on the map facing the right direction. Consequently, I spent much of the walk home looking for the steps leading to the Campidoglio on the wrong road. To cut a long story short, we ended up back where we had started an hour earlier and I never held possession of the map again.

3. Wine. It is a well known fact in 7 Reasons circles that I am something of an amateur tea connoisseur. Sadly this is the only liquid based-substance that I have such a relationship with. Wine, for example, is something of an unknown quantity to me. There are three things I know about it. One, it comes in white; two, it comes in red; and, three, it should not be thrown over your girlfriend. Sadly, while Rome offered both white and red varieties, it also offered the opportunity for me to knock a glass over. Which I promptly accepted.

4. Gladiators. They’re an amorous lot. Even the fake ones hanging around the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, the Pantheon. Actually, let’s just call it Rome. They’re everywhere. And they took far too much of a liking to my girlfriend. If they weren’t trying to kiss her they were calling her Princess or offering to slay me. Yes, I know, it’s enough to make one quite nauseous. I mean, it was the type of behaviour I’d expect from the French or Piers Morgan.

5. String Sellers. Standing at the top of the Spanish Steps I was accustomed by two gentlemen, who – without invitation – decided to wrap string around my wrist. I was rather taken with the colours so allowed them to continue. ‘How nice,’ I thought, ‘no one has ever tied my wrists up in England before.’. As the string wound it’s way around my wrist to form a bracelet, I was told to make three wishes. ‘How nice,’ I thought, ‘this chap is certainly more friendly than that genie in a bottle.’. When he had finished, the other nice man decided to open his wallet to show me all the lovely notes inside. Initially I thought I got to choose which denomination of Euro I’d like, but after asking for €20 he became a bit grumpy. For a minute I thought he was asking me for money. Then I realised he actually was. At which point we became embroiled in a bitter stand off. They both wanted money for a bit of string, I wanted the string but not at a price. Sadly this story comes to a hugely anti-climatic end as, instead of letting me enjoy a bit of a fracas with Mussolini and Pinocchio, my girlfriend decided to gallop over and drag me away. At which point Pinocchio got all precious, whipped out his toe-nail clippers and cut the string. In doing so all my wishes were cast aside. Which just goes to show, in Rome you have to pay at least €5 for a yacht, a unlimited supply of tea-bags and a speaking dolphin.

6. Sarah. If I were a woman, and I can’t in all honesty say I have ever considered it as a career option, I suspect Sarah would be a name I would strongly consider. Or at least it would have been had I not been called it dozens upon dozens of times in Rome. On the first night, I assumed I had just done something effeminate with my hair, but, having altered my style every night thereafter, the Sarah-tag just wouldn’t leave. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Then I discovered they were actually saying, ‘Sera’. It means, ‘Evening’. I felt silly.

7. Hotel. I chose our hotel, so, upon arrival, I was somewhat relieved to find that I had indeed booked us into somewhere quite nice. There were no tea and coffee facilities, but on the plus side we did get slippers. The hotel carried on being pleasant until our final night when we suddenly noticed dozens of blue flashing lights creeping through the shutters in our room. Upon moving to the window, we opened the shutters to see the street lined with Police. And looking to our left we saw the start of a protest rally. Half an hour later the rally was holding a noisy, sit-down protest. In the road. Right outside our hotel. Like I say though, we did have slippers.

October 25, 2010
7 Reasons That This Picture Is Amazing

A friend of mine sent me this picture. And it’s amazing. Here are seven reasons why.

1. It’s Cute. Just look at the sweet little pig feeding between the bigger pigs. Look how sweet and little and cute he is. Awwww. What a lovely, heart-warming, rustic scene.

2. It’s Compelling. The cute pig picture was on my monitor when my wife was walking past the room and, having glimpsed it, she was beside me within a nanosecond, looking rather flustered and seemingly unable to take her eyes off it. “Isn’t the little piggy cute?” I enquired. “Errr…er…yes”, she replied, before wandering off, looking back at it over her shoulder a couple of times as she left the room.

3. It’s Unexpected. The friend that sent me the picture of the cute pig did so in an email entitled Not What You Think. And he was right. Because usually when I get an email from him it contains some sort of smut or a horrific example of Darwinism. The last thing I expected was a nice animal picture. It seems that seeing the cute pig has brought out my friend’s better side.

4. It Brings Out Deep-Rooted Primitive Beliefs. Using my phone I showed another friend the picture of the cute piggy while we were in a bar and his reaction was extraordinary. After a couple of seconds looking at the picture, he grabbed my phone and tried to hide it under the table. I can only imagine he thought that by looking at the picture we were stealing the pig’s soul, but I never got the chance to ask because…

5. It’s Awesome. So awesome that the sight of it caused a woman seated a couple of tables behind us to gasp audibly and point, slack-jawed in our direction. This was unnerving and we left quite soon after. But not before I observed that…

6. It’s Inspirational. Because the gasping woman was obviously very taken with the cute piggy; I couldn’t hear what she was saying, but when her friend came back from the toilet she seemed very excited and spent several minutes telling her about the picture in a breathless and animated manner. She pointed many more times, and touched her ruddy cheeks a lot. The cuteness of the piggy seemed to have affected her greatly. Hormones, I expect.

7. It’s Baffling. Because I like the cute pig; I like the little fella a lot, don’t get me wrong. But other people seem extraordinarily taken with him, and there are other, cuter animal pictures out there that don’t provoke such a reaction. This one, for example:

Awww. Much cuter.

October 20, 2010
7 Reasons My Dream Was A Bit Odd

In a last minute change to 7 Reasons proceedings, the post originally planned for today has been postponed in favour of something that happened overnight. A bit like Martin Luther King, I had a dream. Unlike him however, I was the only one to witness it. Which is why I must share mine with you. Now. It was weird.

1. Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! I’m in a house. But it’s also a hotel. And an airport. It’s next to a London train station. It’s supposed to be London Victoria, but it’s not. So I’m in this house – which is also a hotel and an airport – and everything is going well. I am just wandering. Wandering around. Looking at plates and planes and….oh, a playground. I remember now, there was a playground. And then there’s a fire. Like Billy Joel, I didn’t start the fire, but if I don’t get a bloody shift on I’m going to burn to a crisp. (We’ll come to the crisps later). So I start running. And I find myself in a…

2. Room. It’s a bedroom. And it has a window. Two of them in fact. And outside of the window is a roof terrace. And a ladder into the garden. A garden which I can only assume is on the opposite side of the house to the airfield. I open the window and in a move that a contortionist or Anne Widdecombe would be proud of, manage to get myself through the smallest gap in the world. And with it, to safety. We then shift forward to…

3. The Next Day. I can only assume it’s the next day because otherwise I’d be re-entering a house that is on fire. And that would be stupid. And as I had the intelligence to get out the of house fire in the first place, I don’t believe I am stupid in this dream. So, it’s the next day and I am back in the room that I escaped from. There is smoke damage and Dr Howard Denton. You probably won’t recognise this name because he was one of my lecturers when I was at University. What the bloody hell he is doing here, I have no idea. But I don’t seem to care. In fact I am very happy to see him. Because he starts helping me look for my…

4. iPhone Charger. I must have lost it the previous night. Along with my wallet and car keys. Rather brilliantly I find my iPhone charger lying on top of a dressing table. Obviously that’s one of the most important things to do when trying to escape a house fire. Put your iPhone charger on a dressing table so you can come back to get it the next day. You’d do well to remember that. I am so delighted that I’ve found my iPhone charger that I give Dr Howard Denton my crisps. (Told you we’d come back to them). They’re Phileas Fogg range. Irish cheddar with onion chutney flavour. I know I’ve eaten some already because there’s a wooden clothes peg fastening the packet closed. You can say what you like about me, but I know how to keep crisps fresh. This is when…

…I wake up. My girlfriend’s shouting about babies. At least I think she is at the time. In hindsight I am not entirely sure she was. Either way, I show my caring side by asking her if she’s okay. She is, so I fall back to sleep. And I start dreaming again. And I’m back in another house. A house belonging to…

5. Judy Murray. And the only reason I know the house belongs to Judy Murray is because she has just walked through the front door and said, ‘What are you doing in my house?’ For reasons (probably less than seven) unbeknown to me, we go into the garden where I try and explain. Rather splendidly Judy has sofas and chairs in her garden. And I decide to put two chairs together to form a boat. I then explain to Judy that I was merely in her house to work because it was too noisy back at mine. She seems to understand and, for the first time in my life, I begin to like Judy Murray. Which is when everything becomes a blur until I find myself outside Judy Murray’s house. And in through the window of next door, I can see England bowler…

6. Steven Finn. He’s doing the washing up and not looking as tall as I had seen him on TV. To make sure it doesn’t look like I am stalking him, I get down in Judy Murray’s driveway and start doing press-ups. I’m obviously an optimistic dreamer because I do bloody hundreds of them. All while looking at Steven Finn. Until Judy Murray’s front door opens and out walks…

7. Judy Murray. She starts asking me if – while I’ve been living in her house – I have moved the car. Apparently the hedges look a bit bashed up. Now, I don’t remember dreaming about it, but I know that I did drive Judy Murray’s car into the flowerbed. Which is why I lie and deny I have been anywhere near her Volvo. Once again, she seems to understand. Which is when one of my old school friends rocks up and starts telling me how much he loved my film. I have no idea what he’s talking about, but I say, ‘Thanks’ anyway. He then mentions he reads 7 Reasons. Which is when I wake up. Hopefully I’ll find out tonight whether he likes it or not.

October 1, 2010
7 Reasons That You Shouldn’t do Bicycle Maintenance at 3am

3am: A time when almost everyone is in bed, sleeping. But you may not be. You may be lying in bed, unable to sleep. You may be pontificating on weighty and important matters such as: What is the best wine to serve with SPAM? Why does my local supermarket always run out of crumpets on Monday? What would win in a fight; a pangolin or a labrador? Usually these thoughts are inconclusive but, as you lay thinking important things, you may have a eureka moment and suddenly – and rather excitingly – the cause of the strange noise that your bicycle has been making all week will become apparent to you. But under no circumstance, no matter how enthused you are, should you take any action at this time. Here are seven reasons you shouldn’t do bicycle maintenance at 3am.

1. It’s Cold. Not in bed, it’s nice and warm there. But it will be cold in the kitchen. Very cold. But that’s where the bicycle and tools are. So, as you’ve arrived downstairs wearing a t-shirt and pyjama bottoms, you’ll grab whatever clothes you can find from the cupboard under the stairs. And fairly soon, outfitted in green flip-flops, a pink and brown striped scarf, a beige trenchcoat, a blue bobble hat and a pair of grey fingerless gloves, you’ll think to yourself, never mind, it’s not like anyone will see me. Then you’ll head into the kitchen where it will be…

2. Dark. So you’ll put the kitchen lights on, and the kitchen will become very bright indeed. So bright, in fact, that you’ll hurt your eyes and be caused to squint. But you’ll set to work anyway; squinting, with spanner in hand and then, out of the corner of your squinty eye, you’ll notice a light, shining through your window (because no one covers their kitchen windows). Yes, it’s…

3. The Neighbours. Or more specifically, the neighbours whose bedroom overlooks your kitchen. And you’ll do what anyone would do in this circumstance. You’ll stand up, squinting, smile and wave at them. Mostly to reassure them that it’s you and not a brainsick, colour-blind tramp who has broken in to steal the pasta from your kitchen. Or the lemons. And eventually, after the initial shock at seeing your outfit has worn off, they’ll realise that you’re not a burglar. And the spanner that you’re waving in your right-hand will probably mirror their opinion of you. Anyway, the neighbours will soon go back to sleep and you’ll return to the bike and work slowly and deliberately, in order to be…

4. Quiet. Shh. Very Quiet. As quiet as a timid dormouse breaking wind next to a hungry lion. Because your bedroom’s above the kitchen. And making a noise would be inconsiderate/very very dangerous. So you’ll work quietly, and that will go well. Until you drop the spanner onto the quarry tiles. And you will drop the spanner onto the quarry tiles. Then – suddenly – and without warning, you will be face to face with…

5. Angry Woman. And Angry Woman is…angry. Furious, in fact. Angry Woman is…shouting. She’s shouting things like:

“What the hell are you doing?” In this circumstance – even though you have a spanner in your hand and a partly disassembled bicycle in front of you, you shouldn’t resort to sarcasm. That will make Angry Woman turn red and growl. You don’t want that. And then she may shout…

“You love that bicycle more than you love me.” Now, the last time she said something, you spoke, and that didn’t go at all well. But that doesn’t mean that pausing and considering your words carefully is a good idea this time; it certainly isn’t. Because then it will appear that you’re actually considering whether you love the bicycle more. And even though your bicycle isn’t the one yelling and shouting at you, and it does have red handlebars and a nice…no, no you don’t love the bicycle more. Really. Anyway, the pause is a bad thing. Because then she’ll shout…

“You’re supposed to be in bed. WITH ME!” Okay, so sarcasm and thinking haven’t gone well for you. What’s left? Humour? No. “I didn’t think you’d want your bottom bracket lubricating at 3am, darling” is the wrong reply. And after she’s shouted,

“And what the hell are you wearing?!” (it’s rhetorical this time) before storming upstairs, you’ll probably come to the conclusion that it’s time to go…

6. Back To Bed. Stepping out of your Beach-Boy-hobo-Humprey-Bogart-on-acid-costume, you’ll return to the nice warm bed where you’ll discover by touching legs with your wife that your body temperature is at least ten centigrade lower than hers. And then she will kick you. Very hard. This will hurt, and in two days time you’ll have a large blue and purple bruise on your left shin. At this point though, when the pain subsides, you’ll fall into a deep, satisfying, refreshing sleep and the next morning you’ll wake up and feel amazing. And you’ll feel that way right up until the moment you open your eyes and see the…

7. Oily Fingerprints All Over The Sheets And Pillows. Ooops. And later, on your cycle ride, you may feel inclined to visit both the florist and the chocolatier.

September 28, 2010
7 Reasons a Komodo Dragon is the Ideal Pet

The Komodo dragon: A carnivorous lizard that can grow up to 9.8 feet in length might, to the uninformed layman, seem like a poor choice of pet. But it isn’t. The Komodo dragon is, in fact, the ideal domestic animal for many people. And here are seven reasons why.

1. They’re Cool. Just look at it! It’s a veritable behemoth of a dinosaur/land-crocodile/lumbering monster. It’s got a forked tongue and a pointy tail! It makes next door’s dog look rubbish in comparison. In fact, it will probably eat next door’s dog. Then you won’t have to put up with the damned thing barking at aeroplanes and at your bicycle all night. You’ll be the envy of your neighbourhood because being the owner of a Komodo dragon is cool, and being the owner of a missing dog is not cool. Even if you do a very good job on the posters.

2. Health. For elderly people, a pet can be most advantageous to their health. A small dog can keep them company and provide them with stimulation in the form of exercise. But, for young, active people, a small dog doesn’t go far enough. You need larger, more demanding pet. The physical and mental challenge of getting past a Komodo dragon in your hallway every morning will leave you feeling alive, alert and invigorated. If you are successful, that is. If you’re not successful then at least you may have lost some weight. And you’ll be better motivated the next time. And how many limbs do you really need anyway?

3. Eggs. Komodo dragons lay eggs. This is beneficial as the conventional method of getting fresh eggs is to keep chickens, which are scary creatures with cruel, unblinking eyes and alarmingly pointed beaks that make clucking noises and peck you when you’re not expecting it. But if you keep a Komodo dragon as a pet, you can have fresh eggs for breakfast without ever having to suffer the presence of a chicken again.

4. Return To A Simpler, Bygone Age. “It was much better in my day”, we’re often told by nostalgic elders, wistfully pining for a return to the society of their youth; “we could go out all day and leave our doors unlocked”. And with a Komodo dragon as your pet, you too will be able to go out all day and leave your doors unlocked. Hell, if your Komodo dragon grows big enough, you won’t even need doors. And if the elderly are to be believed, this will be bloody marvellous. In the fullness of time, you’ll be able to bore your grandkids senseless about how nice it was in your day without keys/locks/doors/bolts/alarms or any other security paraphernalia, just good old Tufty guarding the house and the odd bobby on the beat strolling by. That’s if your grandchildren haven’t been eaten by Tufty, of course. And even if they have been, that’s all the more Werther’s Original and Jamaica ginger cake for you. There is literally no downside to Komodo dragon ownership.

5. Feeding. Now I know what you’re thinking and stop that right now: He will not find you less attractive if you wear the shoes with the smaller heels, and she will not notice that the browsing history’s disappeared from the laptop again. Well, she will now, I should never have mentioned it. Sorry. Anyway, I also know that you’re thinking: A Komodo dragon will eat me out of house and home; surely I’d be better off getting a cat. But you’re wrong. Because cats need feeding twice a day, and Komodo dragons can eat on as few as twelve occasions per year, which is 718 less feeds per annum than a cat requires. Admittedly your Komodo dragon will probably need something more substantial than a bowl of Whiskas; a couple of kilograms of mince, perhaps. Or a goat. But that still seems like less food than a cat would consume. In fact, you may never need to feed it at all as, if you let your Komodo dragon out of the house, it will happily forage for pedestrians all by itself.

6. Reproduction. Now I’m not an expert on the reproductive systems of Komodo dragons but, at 7 Reasons (.org) we are nothing if not well-researched.* And, during the initial minute of my study into fauna native to the island of Komodo, I unearthed this amazing fact: The Komodo dragon does not have a diaphragm. This is great for the Komodo dragon owner, as it means that they’ll be fantastically easy to breed: The female won’t have to disappear to the bathroom for ages beforehand, and the male won’t get bored waiting and begin to think about chips. You can’t argue with science like that. A little knowledge truly does go a long way.

7. Home Movies. Many owners film their pets and then show the movies to their friends. But other people’s pets are really dull (unless they have a Komodo dragon, of course). And friends and family can only stand to watch a film of your hamster chewing some string or your cat staring at a gate so many times before their thoughts begin to turn to murder. But if you had a Komodo dragon, built a small set, and filmed in a B-movie style, your pet-movies would be like Godzilla. And that would be beyond amazing. That would be so awesome that we’d need to invent a new word for it: Preferably one that will survive predictive text and is easy to type with the odd missing digit/hand, and while running down a hallway.

I have finished writing now, so go forth to your pet shops and purchase Komodo dragons.**

*The words nothing and if are entirely superfluous.

**7 Reasons (.org) is not legally responsible for anything. At all.

September 24, 2010
7 Reasons Standing Outside Female Fitting Rooms In Zara Is Awkward (For Men)

We’ve all been there. Female changing rooms. Women go in them. Men stand outside them. That, at least, is the usual practice. And it is certainly what I practised on Saturday. In Zara. And when I say it is what I practised, I don’t mean I went into Zara and practised standing outside the fitting rooms. That type of behaviour is strictly frowned upon and usually ends up with you being escorted from the shop by the police. Apparently. So no, I was not practising standing outside the fitting rooms. I was standing outside the fitting rooms in Zara because my girlfriend was inside the fitting rooms in Zara. And boy, is Zara awkward.

1. Positioning. It’s very difficult to know where to stand in Zara. I am no expert – if I was this post would have been called ‘7 Reasons I Laugh At Men Who Feel Awkward Outside Fitting Rooms In Zara’ – but I imagine the optimum place to stand must be at a 45 degree angle to the fitting room entrance. This, at least, is what I am trying to perfect. By standing at a 45 degree angle you can see out of the corner of your eye when your lady steps out of her cubicle to model her potential new outfit for you. It also means that you are not going to be staring at a lot of…

2. Other Women, who keep popping out of their cubicles. I have made the mistake of looking directly at the fitting room entrance before and it’s not a pleasant sight. Quite why other women seem so determined to try and fit into dresses that are at least two sizes too small for them is way above my level of intellect. But this isn’t really the awkward bit. The awkward bit is when the other women see you looking at them with your eyebrows raised. Or your mouth wide open. Or your head shaking. Or your shoulders lifting up and down as if to suggest you may be trying to suppress a titter. Which, coincidentally, is what many of them seem to be trying to do too. Obviously, if you do catch their eyesight, then you quickly look away. Which is when you notice the…

3. Mirrors. So now, instead of looking at other people, you are staring at your reflection. Which seems a little odd so you look to the other side of the fitting rooms. Where there is another bloody mirror. What is it with Zara and mirrors? They are all over the place. And the one you are using now is also being used by a women. So now you are staring at a reflection of a woman trying on a jacket. And now she has noticed you staring at a reflection of her trying on a jacket. And so has her husband. Which is when you turn back to the other mirror. Now you have a choice. Remain fixed on a reflection of you and you alone or look directly at the fitting rooms? Remember, you can’t stare at the floor, look the other way or run because your lady could step out of her cubicle at any moment. And you must be there. Given my previous with staring directly at the fitting rooms. I go for the looking at myself in a mirror option. I’ve done that before. And it hasn’t felt awkward since my Mum caught me singing along to Elvis with a comb. Thankfully, I don’t have a comb with me on this occasion, so instead I try and work out whether my shoulders are more sculpted than before or whether it’s one of those funny mirrors. I then realise someone else is hoping to use the mirror and so I have no option but to turn back to looking directly at the fitting room. This is where you have to resort to Plan Z. The phone. As…

4. Behaviour whilst waiting for someone goes, looking at your phone is the worst kind. Looking at your phone not only screams, ‘I am waiting for someone and I feel awkward,’ it also says, ‘I am bored’. Which is not good. Especially if that is the moment when your lady needs your attention. There is a way to rectify this however. I have named it the ‘look at your invisible phone’ technique. Basically it involves you, pretending you are looking at your phone. Or, in layman’s terms, just looking downwards a bit. You can also throw in some robot dance moves if you feel inclined, but most don’t. The good thing about the invisible phone/looking downwards move is that your periphiral vision still takes in your lady’s location in the fitting room. This is all well and good until you sense there is…

5. Another Man Waiting. This really shouldn’t be a problem. But ridiculously it makes it far more awkward. Not only are you are both checking on the behaviour of the other person to see if you can pick up any good ‘waiting outside fitting room’ tips, you are now in direct competition. You are both proud of your lady and you want to show the other guy that you are the better boyfriend/husband. Unfortunately, this means telling your lady that she looks wonderful in whatever she steps out of the fitting room wearing. Even if you’re not 100% sure about it. That’s until one of you decide you need to step up and show your relationship really is based on honesty about clothes. You need to show that your lady respects your opinion and if you aren’t sure about something she won’t feel let down. Which is when she steps out of the fitting room and you immediately say, ‘I’m not sure about that sweetheart. It’s not you at all.’ And then she scowls at you and you realise it’s what she has been wearing all day. Still, it could have been worse. You could have been standing outside the fitting rooms with…

6. Other Women. And this really is awkward. You feel awkward not just because you keep thinking, ‘Am I standing in the right place? How should I be acting? What the hell is she wearing?’ but because you are never 100% sure what they are thinking. Are they thinking, ‘That’s nice. I wish my boyfriend/husband was happy waiting for me in Zara instead of hanging around in HMV’? Or, are they thinking, ‘I wish security would come and remove this pervert’? I’ll be honest, the latter makes one feel very awkward. Especially when they wander off in the direction of an important looking person. You’re just waiting for a tap on the shoulder. Which is when you realise that your lady has been in the fitting room for a long…

7. Time. What is she doing in there? Is she okay? What happens if her hair has got stuck in a zip and she is now stuck? Do I phone her up? Do I ask a member of staff to go and check? Do I wander down and find out for myself? A knot twists in your stomach. She might be stuck with a dress over her head and you’re not doing anything. You’re just standing here. Feeling awkward. And now you’re feeling awkward for feeling awkward. Why? What have men done to be punished like this? Why does Zara punish men like this? When will this torture end?

September 21, 2010