7 Reasons

Tag: 7 reasons

  • 7 Reasons That Question 17 is Frustrating

    7 Reasons That Question 17 is Frustrating

    This is Question 17 in the Individual Questions section of the UK Census.  It’s “intentionally blank” and will drive you slowly mad.  Here are seven reasons why.

    Question seventeen in the individual questions section of the 2011 UK Census

     

    1.  Why Is It Intentionally Blank? What is the intention?  Why?  Why? Why?  Why, oh why, oh why, oh why?  I had to go online to find out why.  Apparently it’s a question about the Welsh language.  But wait, I’ve seen the Welsh language and it isn’t invisible. And if it was then the answer would be blank too, so there’d be no point in asking the question in the first place.  And why would you just state that it’s been left intentionally blank?  Why not just remove it?  Is there some sort of nefarious purpose to it?  Should we don our foil hats before completing the census?  Should we be afraid?  I’m afraid.

     

    2.  It’s A Temptation.   While I was online I checked Twitter.  Which is where I saw this:

    A tweet from Twops Twips who used to be more the sensibly monikered Top Tips.

    Now there are some things that people should never ever see.  The insides of other people; anything to do with Harry Potter and daytime television are all high up the list.  But higher than that, higher than anything else, the absolute worst thing they can see is any sort of suggestion that they should draw a cock in a box on an official document.  Obviously that’s what they’ll want to do right at that moment, with every fibre of their being.  But they can’t because they’d have their tax raised or be sent to prison or something.  And that just makes it all the more of a temptation.  Essentially question 17 is a form of torture in which we are forced to wrestle our primal urge to undermine authority and officialdom by drawing a cock.

     

    3.  It’s Not Actually Blank.  It’s got words in it.  I can see them, they’re right there at the top of the box telling us that it’s blank.  But that’s a lie.  It’s the most blatant example of officialdom fibbing to us since Jeffrey Archer had any power.  It’s like a spoon that says “I am not a spoon”.  It’s not exactly like a talking spoon, I grant you, but it is in the sense that it is lying.  Badly.

     

    4.  It’s Not A Question.  The text above question 17 states that “This question is intentionally left blank”.  But in a similar manner to the age-old philosophical question (if a butterfly beats its wings in a forest in China does a tree fall on a deaf person on the other side of the world?) question seventeen gives us food for thought.  If a question isn’t a question is it still a question?  When is a question not a question?  What do you even call a question that isn’t a question?  It’s certainly perplexing.  It turns out that when a question isn’t a question it raises more questions than it does answers, but after a long, careful deliberation I can state with some certainty that: it isn’t; when it doesn’t contain a question; I don’t know; my brain hurts.  But it’s definitely not a question.  This further complicates matters.

     

    5.  Numbers.  After the lie about the question being left blank, they helpfully tell you to go to 18.  But question 18 isn’t question 18, is it?  It’s question 17.  Because the blank box with a fib in it is no more a question than I am an owl or a plant-pot. This means that the entire numbering system for the remainder of the census is incorrect.  Question 24 (which is actually question 23) says if you are aged 16 or over you should go to 25 (which is numbered 26).  But that’s not a question at all; it’s an instruction.  So question 25 is actually the 23rd question.

     

    6.  But Wait.  No it isn’t.  Because question 11 in the Individual Questions section isn’t a question either.  It’s also an instruction.  So question 25 is actually the 22nd question.  This means that all the numbers in the Individual Questions section are wrong from question 10 (which isn’t a question) on. I haven’t been this confused since…ever.  This is even more confusing than being married to a woman.  And less fun.

     

    7.  The Bastards! And the civil servants/bureaucrats/number crunchers/census-bastards haven’t just cocked up their own census.  They’ve buggered up the title of this post, which is now incorrect.  There are still seven reasons here (which is an improvement on Monday when I spent an hour trying to come up with a seventh reason only to discover that it was, in fact, the eighth and had to remove one) but this isn’t 7 Reasons That Question 17 is Frustrating any more.  It’s 7 Reasons That Question 17 Which Is Not A Question At All And Even If It Were It Would Be Number 16 But It’s Not And Furthermore It’s A Liar Is Frustrating.  I’ve read books shorter than that title.  I won’t even be able to fit it on Twitter.  Does our reader even have a screen that wide?  Right, census-mongers!  I’m drawing a cock in your blank box right now and I’m posting it back to you tomorrow.  On fire.

     

  • 7 Reasons To Love The Statesman!

    7 Reasons To Love The Statesman!

    Apart from waking up to the news that it is both International Women’s Day and Pancake Day, you may have also heard that 28,000 Police jobs are – in all likelihood – going to be cut. If your reaction to this news is one of fear, you need not worry. A new crime fighting force is out there. The UK’s answer to Kick-Ass is a real-life superhero. Let me introduce you to… The Statesman!

    The Statesman - A UK Superhero

    This powerhouse of a man is out there, right now – in Birmingham – protecting us. Protecting us all. Do we need 7 Reasons to love him? Of course we don’t. Are we going to give you 7 Reasons anyway? Well, obviously. Here they are:

    1.  Costume. The last person to try and spread a little love by wearing a Union Jack outfit was Geri Halliwell. The Statesman, though, has the eye mask to go with it. Which in my opinion makes all the difference. Everyone likes a superhero who can effectively combine fierce loyalty to his country with a bit of camp mystery.

    2.  Utility Belt. Savlon? Check. Plasters? Check. Maglite? Check. Swiss Army Knife from that Christmas cracker? Check. Let’s be honest, Superman was great, but he never took a strip of Elastoplast with him. The Statesman does. And a tube of Berocca to help the inebriated among us.

    3.  Moustache. The last time I saw something like this it was Movember 2009 and I was looking in the mirror. I scared people that month. Which only leads me to believe that The Statesman must scare baddies 24/7/365. Awesome man, just awesome!

    4.  Persuasive. Until the identity of The Statesman was splashed all over The Sun, his girlfriend thought he was off playing poker every night. Whether she ever questioned his choice of attire is, at present, unknown, but I suspect she did. I can only conclude therefore that The Statesman is a very persuasive chap. And let’s be clear about this, when you are faced with two bad men, each with a crowbar, the best way of unarming them is the mighty skill of persuasion.

    5.  Allies. That’s right, he has friends. Possibly in high places. Possibly in phone boxes. Possibly in the back of the Satesmobile. It doesn’t really matter where they are, the fact is they are out there. Fighting. Fighting for us. So go out, wear your bling, leave your car doors open, nothing bad will ever happen.

    6.  Weapons. There’s no gun, taser or baton sticking out of The Statesman’s trousers. He is unarmed. Well, except for his quick wit and boxing mitts. Given that gangs have ready access to a variety of kitchen utensil you have to applaud The Statesman’s ‘no violence’ approach. If only wars were fought in such a way.

    7.  Heart. Many superheroes are pre-occupied with fighting, not The Statesman though. If there is no crime to be fought, he’ll happily help the drunk across the road or give a blanket to a homeless person. A clever villain would probably try and use such a scenario as a diversion tactic, but I just have a sneaking suspicion that The Statesman will be ready for such an eventuality. He’s a superhero after all.

  • 7 Reasons to be…an Icetalian!

    7 Reasons to be…an Icetalian!

    I’ve often been told that I’m more Italian than English.  I like coffee, tiramisu and risotto more than I like tea, trifle and Yorkshire puddings; I like Fiat 500s more than I like Minis; I like sun more than rain; I like waving my arms around more than I like…er…not waving my arms around.  All the signs are there.  But last week I had a bit of a revelation.  As I was celebrating March 1st (and the end of my traditional February abstinence) a friend tweeted me.  March 1st is Beer Day in Iceland, he informed me.  That’s funny.  March 1st – the first day of the month that has my name at the start of it (this is Marc, by the way, not Jon.  The month with his name in it is Jonuary) – is my Beer Day too.  Perhaps I’m not just Italian, I thought, perhaps I’m part-Icelandic too.  Maybe I’m…um… an…Icetalian!  From Icetalia!  Even if I’m not, here are seven reasons that I should be.

    the flags of Italia and Iceland

     

    1.  What’s in a Name? Is there a cooler word than Icetalian?  Well, perhaps mantacular or shabazzle, but they’re only really words in my head.  If you stack Icetalian up against actual words that other people would recognise it comes out rather well.  It contains ice, which is an actual cool thing, and talian, which isn’t a thing at all, though it still manages to be evocative of Vespas and sunglasses.  If you’re an Icetalian you’re instantly cool.  It’s like being named Jet or Raffaela.

     

    2.  Cuisine.  Icetalian food would be the best fusion-cuisine in the world.  Italian cooking is already renowned the world over, featuring tiramisu, pasta, tiramisu, risotto, tiramisu, ice cream, tiramisu, bean stews, tiramisu and tiramisu.  In short, it’s awesome.  How, you’re probably wondering, can that be improved?  Well, Icelandic food consists of salted fish, salted lamb, more salted fish and some other salted stuff.  So essentially Icetalian cuisine would be Italian food but with more salt.  And salt, as we know, improves all food.  Has anyone with a tall white hat ever stuck a spoon in a pan and, on tasting the contents, said “Hmm.  I think it needs less salt”?  No, of course they haven’t.   Everything always requires more salt.  Even salt, probably.

     

    3.  Sightseeing.  What’s the most famous tourist attraction in Iceland?  No, it’s not Kerry Katona’s prawn ring, it’s the Icelandic Phallological Museum; that’s right, a whole museum devoted to the penis.  But Iceland’s a cold place, whereas Icetalia (which would have a more temperate climate halfway between that of Iceland and Italy) would be much warmer.  This would make the Icetalian Phallological Museum twice as impressive as the Icelandic one, even though it would have the same number of exhibits.

     

    4.  Expression.  Italians are a voluble and wildly expressive people who, in conversation, communicate as much with their gestures as they do with their words.  The people of Iceland, being rather more reticent Scandinavian types do not.  They prefer to emote by not expressing anything at all.  Ever.  Icetalians would be a happy and healthy blend of these two styles of expression.  If it goes right, they’ll be similar to the English and will express themselves in a physically moderate and understated way, and if it goes wrong then during conversation half of the average Icetalian’s body will remain absolutely, rigidly still while the other half will be an exuberant, wildly-flailing blur of expression that could resemble Riverdance: Officially The Stupidest Thing In The History Of The World.*  I’m hoping that it will be the former, obviously.  A land where people communicate with each other via the medium of Riverdance: Officially The Stupidest Thing In The History Of The World would be dreadful.  And deafening.

     

    5.  Venice.  I love Venice.  It’s bloody marvellous.  If they (whoever they are) were taking nominations for an eighth wonder of the world, I would nominate Venice.  But the Icetalian Venice would be even better, because it would be almost exactly the same as the Italian version, but with ice skating during the winter months and sleighs instead of gondolas.  And there’d be fewer American tourists because they’d fall through the ice.  It would be a true winter wonderland as well as being a summer one.

     

    6.  The Flag.  The Icetalian flag would contain the colours red, blue, green and white.  That’s all of the primary colours on one piece of cloth plus white, which is the colour of nothing when the lights are on.  It doesn’t contain black, which is nothing in the dark, but you can’t have everything.  Though with all of the primary colours, perhaps you can.  In any event, the Icetalian flag will clash with just about every imaginable outfit so nationalism will be kept to a minimum.  It’ll be a nicer place to live.

     

    7.  Names.  Icetalians would have better names than just about everyone else.  In Iceland, the tradition is that the first name of the father becomes the surname of his sons and daughters.  Thus the daughters of Gudmund Magnusson get the surname Gudmunsdottir, and the sons of Gudmund Magnusson get the surname Gudmundson.  Why this doesn’t lead to irresponsible people giving their children the first names Son and Alison, I don’t know.  Then, if their children did the same thing (any why wouldn’t they?), they’d end up with grandchildren called Son Sonson and Alison Sondottir. Within several generations, the Icelandic telephone directory would contain names likes Alison Sonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsdottir and Son Sonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonson and would be visible from space.  It would be brilliant.  Why no one from Iceland had ever invited me to name anything I don’t know.  Icetalian names would also be amazing (and only slightly shorter).  Icetalian people would be called things like Ambrosiano Giordanoson and Ausilatrice Zoccolittosdottir.  This would make introducing people to each other much more fun and ink manufacturers would be the richest people in the land.  Oh, and this would also mean that school would finish at about the same time that the calling of the register ended, so teachers wouldn’t have to prepare lessons and children wouldn’t have to sit through them.  The people of Icetalia would be thick, but happy.  And work in my ink factory.  I’m moving to Icetalia, it’s going to be brilliant!

     

    *And now that I’ve mentioned it, how did Riverdance: Officially The Stupidest Thing In The History Of The World even come about?  Someone must have done it first.  Why didn’t other people just point and laugh at them?  And who the hell was the second person to do it?  Who, on witnessing someone clippity-clopping about like a deranged horse with a broomstick up their bottom and total paralysis of the arms and head, would think I want to dance like that person?  There is nothing about Riverdance: Officially The Stupidest Thing In The History Of The World that makes any sense.  At all.

     

  • Russian Roulette Sunday: It’s Cake!

    Russian Roulette Sunday: It’s Cake!

    Hello 7 Reasons readers!  It’s Marc here and today, dear readers, we would like you to make a cake.  This cake.

    It’s Oxfam’s Easy Lime and Ginger Cheesecake, the recipe for which comes from my local Oxfam Bookshop’s brilliant blog .  The recipe calls for the use of  Fairtrade Stem Ginger Cookies and, when you go to your nearest Oxfam shop to buy them, you’ll be giving money to a worthwhile cause.  That’s right readers, by making and eating an ethically sourced cheesecake (unless you buy mascarpone sourced from warmongering cheesemongers) you’ll be helping a good cause in an ethical way.  In fact, if we can all make and eat enough cheesecake, we can probably save the world, and I’ll be trying very hard.  Here’s the achingly simple recipe as published by Oxfam Books, Petergate York:

     

    Easy Lime and Ginger Cheesecake

    • Serves 4
    • Prep time: 15 min
    • Chilling time: 30 min
    • Basically, in 45 minutes you’re in business.

    Ingredients

    • 200g pack of Fairtrade stem ginger cookies, crushed
    • 50g butter, melted
    • 500g mascarpone cheese (they usually come in 250g tubs, so get two of these)
    • 40g icing sugar, sifted
    • Finely grated zest and juice of two limes

    Method

    1.  Mix together the crushed biscuits and melted butter (I also like to add a bit of sugar to my cheesecake bases to make them a bit jazzier) and press into the bottom of an 18cm (7inch) spring-sided or loose-bottomed cake tin.

    2.  Place the mascarpone cheese, icing sugar, lime zest and juice in a bowl and beat together. Spread this mixture over the biscuit base.

    3.  Put it in the fridge and chill for 30 min! That’s really it.

    That’s the entire recipe.  It’s basically spreading cheese on biscuits and it’s so simple that absolutelyanyone should be able to make it.   And now we’re going to demonstrate that even people with no food preparation skills, knowledge or aptitude can follow this recipe.  I’m going to hand you over to my writing partner: A man whose culinary education began and ended with learning how to boil water for tea:  A man who – before he moved to Kent – was known as The Fulham Poisoner: A man whose litany of culinary disasters includes failing at defrosting a chicken and the hospitalisation of a flatmate*.  He’s going to make a cheesecake himself and feed it to his fiancé Claire – a renowned and accomplished maker of cakes – who will judge it on appearance, texture and taste (should she survive).  Here’s Jon.

    “It was only when I was standing in the queue that I realised I had been well and truly duped. The idea of making a cheesecake and then eating it had originally sounded like a good idea, which is why I had agreed. Marc had, after all, said all it required was a spare half hour. In my book, that’s a fair exchange for cake. But as I stood there I realised it had already been twenty-five since I had left home and I hadn’t even purchased the ingredients. There was no way I could make a cheesecake in five minutes. Not there. And then I got to the till. Which is when I realised this idea was also going to cost me money. Just short of £5 in fact. That’s a lot to spend just to have something to write about. I couldn’t help but think if I had managed the past year and a half writing without having to pay for the privilege, why did this have to change? I trudged home.

    Having spread the ingredients in front of me and read the recipe, I realised this was the exact same cheesecake that Claire makes. And she makes it very well. Brilliant. So I’ve had to walk all the way the shops, spend the best part of a fiver on ingredients and now I am challenging my future wife by making one of her specialities. Perturbed, I carried on. Twenty minutes later I was left staring at the following creation:

    Making it was something of a doddle. What was not a doddle was the washing up. I don’t know how often you zest a lime, but cleaning the zesting part of the grater is quite possibly a harder job than watching England play cricket. Still, an hour later I was done. I also had lime poisoning from licking the bowl.

    The next part of this project – and that is very much what it had become – was to get Claire to profer her opinion. These are the results of the Claire survey.

    On Appearance: “That looks nice.”

    On Texture: “It’s nice.”

    On Taste: “That was very nice”.

    So there we have it. I make nice cheesecakes. I am sure your Sunday just got a whole lot better with that news.”

    *Which he denies.**

    **Falsely.

    ***As Oxfam Books, Petergate York would (and actually did) tell you themselves, remember the whole point of this recipe is that it is a Fairtrade recipe.  So help the global community during this Fairtrade Fortnight (and after) by buying Fairtrade goods as much as you can.

    the fairtrade fortnight logo

     

  • Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Read The Thursday Next Books By Jasper Fforde

    Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Read The Thursday Next Books By Jasper Fforde

    Today, the 7 Reasons sofa sees the return of former guest writer Rachel Simmonite. She has many important things to say so I won’t keep you long. Just to say, when you’ve read today’s post head over to Rachel’s blog. It’s full of interesting things about rugby. Right, here’s Rachel.

    My guest posts for this blog seem to come about on an annual basis, but I’m determined to make them more like buses. So, in the first of what might or might not be three guest posts, I am writing 7Reasons to read the Thursday Next books, which are written by the genius that is Jasper Fforde.

    It was a trip to Hay-on-Wye, that place of the second hand bookshops and delicious Welsh Cakes, and a trip to the Guardian Hay Festival where I first spotted the first book in the Thursday Next series: The Eyre Affair. I don’t know why I was drawn to it, there were loads of other (brand new) books in the makeshift store. Maybe it was fate? I picked up the book and read the blurb, followed by the first paragraph. I always do that, if it passes the blurb test then it has to go to the first paragraph test and then I will buy it. I noticed that it was a series, I think only a couple of them had come out by then so I went and bought both. I do like to stick with a series. Unfortunately the only series error I’ve made was with the Twilight books, and that was a serious series error. But I digress.

    I got home and started reading. I was hooked. Two books read in two days (it was the school holidays, it’s allowed). And if that’s not enough persuasion to go out and buy them I don’t know what is. Well, apart from these seven reasons obviously. Here they are:

    1.  They make Swindon look cool. I’ve been to Swindon. I’ve experienced Swindon. (Okay so I’ve only experienced a pub there) And it’s not cool. But the Swindon in the Thursday Next books is really really cool. It’s the epicentre of all the chaos and activity that happens in the books, a change from those great literary destinations such as London and Oxford. For such a plain place, Fforde brings out the fun that Swindon could still yet have. Who knows, maybe the parallel Fforde Swindon and real Swindon could merge and we’d get this…

    2.  George Formby is the President. Yes, he of Leaning on a Lamp Post and playing the ukulele fame,is the President of England. Oh and the Crimean War is still going on. In 1985. Wales is a socialist republic. You have huge taxes on cheese (I don’t know how I could have coped with that) and illegal smuggling of it across the country. There are dodos and Neanderthals too and even the odd mammoth migration too.

    3.  The Debate Over Who Wrote Shakespeare’s Plays Is Bigger Than The “Who Shot Phil Mitchell?” Storyline In Eastenders. Did William Shakespeare really write all those plays and sonnets? Or was it Christopher Marlowe? Could it have been Francis Bacon? How about the Earls of Oxford or Derby? All have good claims to Shakespeare’s plays. Some people in the Thursday Nextbooks are obsessed with this to the point that it can cause violence. Shakespeare is not just the scourge of the English student in these books, he’s extremely popular, and not just when well known actors are acting his plays in the theatre!

    4.  If You Don’t Watch Out You’ll Miss The Puns. You have to read the Thursday Next books very closely as they’re full of puns. There are character names like Landen Parke-Laine (London Park Lane) and Braxton-Hicks along with the more obvious Agents Chalk and Cheese. Millon de Floss writes Thursday’s biography. I’m not telling you all of the other ones; you will have to read the books to find them out for yourself! I might not have found them all! It gives you an excuse to read them again to try and spot more of them, that and the books are just great so you’ll want to read them again anyway.

    5.  Despite The Weirdness It Still Has All The Typical Generic Subplots. There’s the romance between Thursday and Landen, which has its ups and downs and general drama. Thursday has eccentric family members from the father who doesn’t really exist, the fussy mother, the religious brother and the aunt and uncle who out smart just about everybody. There’s the big bad guy, Acheron Hades, an even bigger bad guy with a huge corporation behind him. Plus there’s the multi-coloured Porsche. Eat your heart out James Bond.

    6.  There’s An Alternate World In The Parallel World. Yes, I’m being serious. So Nextian Swindon is a parallel world of real Swindon, but also in Nextian Swindon, our main character can go into the world of books. Pretty mind boggling, but you’ll get used to it. You might even get used to the thought of Miss Havisham from Great Expectations breaking land speed records, or the fact that the characters aren’t really allowed into the works of Edgar Allan Poe. Having studied Poe this can only be a good thing. The book world does come across as being really fun, it makes you wish that books are really written that way, maybe they are? Who knows?

    7.  Your celebrities? Not Reality TV Stars But Literary Figures Or Figures In Literature. It’s like the good old days, people aren’t famous for being famous, they actually have to do something first. In the case of the celebrities in the Thursday Next books they have to be written. The hero worship never seems to be stopping, with people changing their names to their favourites, but they have to have a number afterwards due to the multiple numbers of them. You don’t see people nowadays changing their names to Jordan or Kerry Katona, but you will see Anne Hathaways in these books.

     

  • 7 Reasons This Is Clearly Not A UFO

    7 Reasons This Is Clearly Not A UFO

    In the past two weeks Friday has been dedicated to writing about the Cricket World Cup. However, because we wrote about it yesterday – or at least about a dream – we are giving it a miss today. While many of our readers will be disappointed to read this, I ask you to think of our dedicated Polish reader who has no doubt been quite confused as of late. So, instead of cricket, we are going to write about UFOs. A subject that will be close to many people’s hearts if they read last Saturday’s guest post. You may well have heard that yesterday the MOD released 8,500 pages of previously classified information surrounding UFO sightings. Having stayed up all night to read through them I can safely say that some people in this country are officially bonkers. One depiction of a UFO that particularly caught my attention was this one:

     

    Here are seven reasons that this is not a UFO (and instead probably an entry to some Blue Peter competition) :

    1.  Label. The first giveaway is the label ‘normal corn crop’. May I ask, what other kind is there? An un-normal corn crop? A typical example of someone thinking too much. #Fail

    2.  Arrows. Let’s be honest, we don’t really need arrows to tell us which way up this should go? #Fail

    3.  Saucer. In some respects this is the biggest giveaway. As a rule, if you are drawing a picture of a flying saucer, the last thing you should do is draw around a normal saucer. And that is exactly what this person has done. They’ve got a saucer, turned it upside down and with a pencil drawn around it. #Fail

    4.  Design Features (i). Whenever you are making something up, you’ll generally take something you have seen or heard before and edit it slightly for your purpose. Now, I have never watched South Park, and I am suspecting the person who drew this hadn’t either. Somewhere along the line though we will have seen the character, Kenny. Which is why the weird looking yellow things on the top half of theUFO look just like him. Here’s the proof.

    5.  Design Features (ii). If in doubt, add a few windows. #Fail.

    6.  Design Flaws. The electric fans (possibly doubling up as propellers) on the side of the craft are different sizes. If you look closely you can see that the one on the right is slightly bigger than the one on the left. As a result, if this thing took off – an absurd thought I admit, it would start going round in circles. So not only would it not go anywhere, the alien inside would get dizzy. #Fail

    7.  Huh? I have absolutely no idea what this is supposed to be. The Sun? Mars? A tennis ball? An alien? Another UFO?

     

  • 7 Reasons Life Would Be So Much Better In Black & White

    7 Reasons Life Would Be So Much Better In Black & White

    This post needs no introduction, but I’ll give it one anyway. Colour is rubbish. Right, on with the reasoning.

    1.  Colour Blindness. Suffering from the disability myself, I know that a world without colour would make things much easier. Especially when it comes to my work as a designer. Never again would a client phone me up and ask why I have decided to turn their red logo a shade of dark green. I then wouldn’t have to apologise and spend hours redoing the poxy thing. Nor would I get a subsequent phone call from the client advising me that they are terminating the contract because I obviously thought it would be funny to send it back brown.

    2.  Dull Games More Exciting. There was a time that I used to like snooker. I was at school and it proved a more enthralling than doing my homework. These days though I have found my entertainment elsewhere. I like to prod myself in the eye with chopsticks for example. If snooker went back to the good old days when it was played in black and white though, I can imagine being positively horny about the prospect. What colour has he hit?

    3.  Wardrobe. The reason I have such questionable dress sense is because I just have so many colours to choose from. That’s my excuse anyway. If everything was black or white though I couldn’t possibly go wrong. I could wear black with white. Or black with black. Or white with white. Or, if I was feeling adventurous, I could replicate a pack of dominoes.

    4.  Embarrassing Clothes. Talking about dress sense, why is there always someone who turns up to the wedding looking like a twat? Either they are wearing pick shoes or a turtle-shell patterned blazer.Black and white would eradicate this problem immediately. And you wouldn’t need to store your photo album in the loft.

    5.  Sunburn. Another disability I suffer with, the inability to put enough suncream on regularly. Because of this I often find myself getting burnt. Mostly on the face and neck, but I have been known to get burnt somewhere near Maidstone before too. While a black and white world wouldn’t lessen the physically pain, it would certainly reduce the mental anguish. I’d probably have something of a grayscale face which would enable me to blend nicely into an urban world of roads, pavements and lampposts.

    6.  Cheaper. The reason living is so expensive is due in no small part to likes of cyan, magenta and yellow. Get rid of them I say. Let’s just have black with nothing filling in where one wants white. We’d save a fortune and

    7.  Decision Making. In a world that is black and white it would only make sense that there are no blured issues. We would automatically know right from wrong. We would know that tea is right. We would know that Janet Street-Porter is wrong. Life would just be so much simpler.

     

  • 7 Reasons To Act Like A Lion (Today)

    7 Reasons To Act Like A Lion (Today)

    I doubt it has escaped your notice, but if it has, let me be the first to tell you that it is now March. Well done us. We made it. And to celebrate I feel it would be appropriate to adhere to the idiom that states, ‘March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb’. Or at least the first part of it. I think we can all agree that it would be impractical to go out like a lamb before one has even attempted to come in like a lion. So today, and only today (and all subsequent March 1sts) I urge you to act like a lion. Here’s why:

    1.  Roaring. Everyone has times when they just want to roar in the face of someone. We have held back though because it is not correct etiquette. But what if you were acting like a lion? When a lion gets annoyed he roars or eats you. I have consulted the 7 Reasons lawyers and apparently we could find ourselves in trouble if we advocate – even humorously – Hannibal-style activity. Roaring is fine though. So this is your excuse. If there is someone out there who annoys you, walk up to them quietly and then roar in their face. It doesn’t even matter if you spray a little saliva. That is what lions do.

    2.  No Cooking Required. Lions eat raw meat. I need not explain this further.

    3.  Hair. No doubt someone will comment on this post in the many months to come and tell me that I haven’t done my research and in fact lions take great pride in their appearance. Until that eventuality occurs however, I will categorically state that lions are not in the least bit vein. They are quite happy to let their hair grow long and wild. So today, you don’t need to use that comb. Or that razor. Or that waxing strip. Just let it all hang out.

    4.  Sponsorship. If you don’t tell anyone the reason you are acting like a lion – and they haven’t read this post (a very strong possibility) – you could be in the money. If I see someone wandering around the office acting like a lion, I immediately assume they are doing it for charity. In theory this should probably be my second thought after, ‘what the bloody hell is that person doing in my lounge?’, but anyway, we’ll ignore that. So, if someone offers you 50p, don’t refuse and tell them about 7 Reasons, just take it. I reckon you could earn £20 just by roaring every half hour. Easy money.*

    5.  Economy. I know this is a regular theme in my posts, but it is a serious matter. We must find a way to stimulate the economy. Given that none of you assisted Marc and I in our bid to trick or treat our way out of the recession last year, I can only hope you will finally see sense and help us ‘lion’ our way out of the mess we currently find ourselves in. It’s a novel approach I admit, but desperate times call for innovative thinking. Hire a lion outfit for the day. It’ll only cost you £12 and more than likely keep you warm and snug for a full twenty-four hours. The fancy-dress market will receive a massive boost of £372,000,000 overnight which they can use to increase costume manufacture. Increased costume manufacture means more jobs. More jobs means more people with disposable income. More disposable income means more fancy dress outfit hires. It’s a beautiful circle. So let’s do this. Go to your local fancy-dress shop and hire that outfit. For the love of Britain, please.

    6.  Wales. Today is St. David’s Day in the Principality and what better way to celebrate than by acting like a lion, an animal that features on both the Royal Coat of Arms of England and Scotland? Exactly

    7.  In The Jungle Flash Mob. I’m not a fan of flash mobs especially when I get stuck in the middle of them in Trafalgar Square and end up singing along to Hey Jude, but I do feel a mass flash mob where we are all dressed as lions and perform In The Jungle could be particularly good for the soul. Something like this. Without the animated Hippo and Dog obviously. Or maybe with. TBC.

    Make sure you come back on March 31st to read, ’7 Reasons To Act Like A Lamb’.

    *Just a friendly reminder that our cut is 15%.

     

     

  • 7 Reasons That It’s Right To Allow The Use Of the Elbow In Football

    7 Reasons That It’s Right To Allow The Use Of the Elbow In Football

    Great news, psychopaths.  As of today, elbowing people in the head is now acceptable in football, thanks to referee Mark Clattenberg’s new and liberal interpretation of what constitutes acceptable behaviour on the field of play.  We’d like to applaud Clattenberg for his bold and innovative stance and suggest that allowing the use of the elbow to the head will improve the game greatly.  Here are seven reasons that it will.

    1.  There Will Be Less Emphasis Placed On Skill And Application.  Let’s look at Carlos Tevez (not too closely though, you may want to sleep again).  He’s an amazing, mesmeric player that simultaneously terrifies the opposing team’s defence, midfield, and young supporters in the stands.  Most teams find him almost unplayable and it seems almost impossible for opposing managers to concoct a tactic to negate his influence on the game.  With the new relaxation on the rules governing assault occasioning actual bodily harm on the football pitch, however, there’ll finally be a way to stop him.  You can have as much talent as you like, you can’t play through concussion.

     

    2.  Or Maybe You Can.  We’ll see way more incidents of concussion in the game now that players can cranially assault each other on the pitch.  And concussion, in some cases might actually improve players.  Who can forget what (then Partick Thistle manager) John Lambie said on being told that one of his strikers was concussed?  He said, “That’s great, tell him he’s Pele and get him back on.”  Obviously concussion won’t always lead to improvement; most of my team’s squad seem to have been concussed since December and we – if our home stadium was called the Paper Bag Arena – would be there today, still playing out our Christmas fixtures.  Still, seeing them elbowed in the head would make me feel better about things so it’s still a win.

     

    3.  It’ll Be More Popular.  Now that players can elbow each other in the chops football’s popularity could be further increased.  Look at the rise in popularity of cage-fighting, a sport with a laissez-faire to the rules of etiquette.  It’s growing far faster than its more traditional, staid and rule-bound cousin, boxing, and football attendance could increase similarly with the relaxation of the tiresome convention of not being allowed to inflict brain damage on your opponent with your elbow.  It could bring some of the excitement that we associate with the gladiators of ancient Rome to the sport.  In fact, I’ve seen Gladiator and it’ll be great: There’ll be blood; there’ll be whooshing and crunching noises; there’ll be names like Roonicus Maximus, Torresicus Uselecus, Carrollicus Howmuchicus and Coleicus Twaticus; there might be lions.  How cool will that be?

     

    4.  It’s Civilising. Allowing the elbow may well actually make football more civilised.  This might seem somewhat counter-intuitive, but it could work.  Look at the touching way that Mark Clattenberg put his arm around Wayne Rooney after Saturday’s elbowing incident.  It made a lovely change to see a player and a referee getting on so famously, because usually when players are interacting with the referee they’re barracking and abusing him*, so if allowing players to half-kill each other on the pitch brings more touching and harmonious moments like this it can only be a good thing:  Practitioners of football will finally become the role-models that we always hoped they would be; setting a good example of decorous, respectful and appropriate behaviour for children.  And they’ll get to see them belt the living shit out of each other too!  Brilliant.

     

    5.  It Benefits The United Kingdom. Elbowing another person in the head is not merely the simple, uncomplicated act of thuggery that you might suppose, as there are some fundamental laws of physics that cannot be overcome.  The act of elbowing someone in the head requires the elbower (or defendant, as non-F.A. types have traditionally referred to them) to be able to reach the elbowee(victim)’s head with their elbow.  This means that Shaun Wright-Phillips (5’4”) would have little chance of elbowing Peter Crouch (9’3”) in the head.  So taller players will have a natural advantage.  And this, in international football, will benefit teams from the United Kingdom, as we’re the twenty-second tallest nation in the world (and Luxembourg, Iceland and Estonia are ahead of us on that list and we should be able to beat them using old-fashioned skill**).  U.K. teams will, therefore, have a greater chance of winning the world cup than they do presently.  So there you go, in the future, when elbowing opponents in the head is a legitimate tactic, England will be improved by not selecting Shaun Wright-Phillips.  What a revelation.

     

    6.  It Uses Existing Skill. The new relaxation of the rules will tap into the existing skill-sets of football players and will allow them to practice on the field what they often practice as amateur-hobbyists off it.  Assaulting people.  And while it will be somewhat of a change from the traditional practice of punching people in nightclubs and takeaways – or shooting people at the training ground – it will be something that they won’t require too much additional training to adapt to.  And it would make nightclubs safer places for the rest of us to conduct the activities traditionally associated with them. Mostly vomiting and being sexually/physically assaulted (delete as appropriate) by middle-aged men in short sleeved shirts.

     

    7.  It Puts Football Back At The Cutting Edge. By allowing elbowing, football is flying in the face of convention and bucking tradition.  And, on a day when the sport is being overshadowed by a cricketer coming out and revealing that he is gay, it’s important that football is seen to be embracing new ideas.  After all, cricket is merely blazing a trail today by embracing very old ideas, which means that – with its new attitude toward our silly, outdated notions of what constitutes assault – football is doing something far newer and more libertarian.  So move over cricket, football is now the unparalleled bastion of cutting edge liberalism in sport.  How truly enlightening.

     

     

     

    *I would include female referees in this, but I quite fancy a career in radio.

    **This may be fanciful.