Tag: 7 reasons

7 Reasons You Shouldn’t Write 7 Reasons While Watching The Football

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Ghana v Serbia, one of those games that I’m not desperate to see, but because it’s the World Cup I feel I should. So I did in the knowledge that it would also give me 90 minutes (plus half time) to write 7 Reasons. Easy.

1. The Girlfriend (Part A). She knows I’m watching the football whilst trying to write 7 Reasons. She asks me what the topic is. I say, ‘Darling, it’s 7 Reasons you shouldn’t write 7 reasons while watching the football’. She muses for a second, then replies, ‘Multitasking. Men can’t multitask’. I look around. She’s on the kitchen floor, watching the football, talking to me and cleaning a barbecue grill with a toothbrush. I feel admiration for my girlfriend. She can multitask with the best of them. But now I feel challenged. I must finish my 7 Reasons piece before Ghana finish Serbia. I don’t like the pressure.

2. Spelling. I spend more time concentrating on the football than on the page in front of me. This is dangerous, as when I don’t concentrate I have a habit of miss-spelling ‘tootbrush’, writing the incorrect version of ‘peace’ and adding multiple erroneous apostrophes. I also spell ‘eronous’ incorrectly.

3. Clive Tyldesley. Nothing is really happening in the game. Ghana have a throw-in just inside their own half. If I am ever going to get a chance to write something while watching the football, this is it. I look down. But as soon as I do Clive gets excited. I can only assume this is coincidence. I look up. Nothing is happening. Serbia have a goal-kick. I look down. Clive gets excited. I look up. Nothing is happening. I look down. Clive gets excited. I look up. Nothing is happening. I look down. I feel my neck. It’s beginning to hurt.

4. Immaturity. I see a player called ‘Panstil’. This amuses me. I spend ten minutes desperately trying to think of a joke that involves the word pants. I finally think of one. All I need is for Panstil to make a sliding tackle and lose his shorts. If he does I can say, ‘Lucky he’s still got his panstil’. I then realise this isn’t very funny. I note I still have a lot of growing up to do.

5. The Girlfriend (Part B). We are into the second half-time. The score-line reads Reasons Done 3 – Reasons Still To Go 4. My girlfriend – now attacking the grill with a brillo pad – asks what I’ve got so far. I read them to her. I wait for the laughter. It comes. Eventually. But then, so does, ‘You have a very strange brain’. I would have preferred her to compliment my shorts. I am wearing nice shorts. Clive gets excited. I look up.

6. Other Sport. Watching the football means I am missing all the other sport that’s on. I still am not sure which position Jenson Button is on the grid – and the F1 coverage has started on the other side. Nor, by watching the football, am I keeping up to date with the domestic cricket scene. I stop writing reasons for a minute. I also stop watching the football. I check cricket scores on my iPhone. I look around. My girlfriend is looking at me. I realise I am not doing much in the way of multitasking. Clive gets excited. I turn back to the screen. Nothing is happening. I have fifteen minutes to think of a final reason.

7. The Girlfriend (Part C). I am struggling to think of a seventh. My girlfriend asks me how I am getting on. I say, ‘Darling, I am struggling to think of a seventh’. She replies, ‘Well if you manage to think of a seventh I know that you can multitask. So next time the football is on you can peel some potatoes too.’ I am conflicted. She has just given me the seventh reason I shouldn’t have written this while the football was on. I have done it. I have proved men can multitask. But I have also proved why men shouldn’t multitask. Clive gets excited. It’s full-time. Ghana have won. And so has The Girlfriend.

June 14, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Summer Is Ace

Oh how we do like to be beside the seaside. Which is why today Marc and I have dressed in our nauticals and headed off for the beach. In doing so we leave the 7 Reasons sofa in the capable hands of Liz Gregory. Someone who probably now wishes she was at the seaside with us instead of clearing up our biscuit crumbs. Once you’ve read Liz’s piece, do pop over to her blog, Things To Do In Manchester, and say hello. She’s waiting for you. With an ice-cream.

1. More Daylight. This is of course the original and best reason why summer is better than winter. You don’t feel like you’re getting up in the middle of the night to go to work, and you don’t have the urge to put your pyjamas on the second you get home – somehow the day just seems to have more hours in it. Although mathematically, of course, it doesn’t.

2. Barbecues. What other occasion allows you to consume a meal consisting entirely of meat? Sure, you may wish to bump up the nutritional value by adding a fruit/vegetable item such as ketchup, but you are under absolutely no pressure to do so. There is no other repast in the world that permits this kind of sausage-based frenzy, so we should embrace it while we can. And because the food is eaten outside in the fresh air, it is officially incredibly healthy and good for you.

3. No Tights. I admit this is largely a female-interest point (or so I presume), but I’m sure men have an equivalent item they are glad to leave behind come summer. Where there are tights, there is discomfort, particularly for tall girls who may encounter gusset-issues, or smaller girls who may suffer from bagging at the ankles. Summer weather frees us from such tyranny, and as a bonus also allows for the painting of toe-nails and the donning of flip flops.

4. Acceptability of Pink Wine. There are certain drinks that are only acceptable in the summer months, pink wine being one of them. Anything tastes nice when consumed outside in the sunshine, leading people with normally impeccable taste to enthusiastically adopt drinks they would eschew at other times of the year; Pimm’s also falls into this category. Somehow, in June a glass full of sweet alcohol crammed randomly full of lumps of cucumber seems right; you will have returned to your senses by Autumn, so do not be frightened by this kind of temporary lapse.

5. Beer Gardens. Sometimes better in thought than actuality; many of the beer gardens near where I live are in fact trestle tables lined up around the edge of the car park. Still, use your imagination (or simply live in the country as opposed to central Manchester), and you could be somewhere really picturesque. Plus, there’s always the amusement of watching someone at a nearby table leap up and hare across the pub, pursued by angry wasps who wish to share their pint of lager.

6. Tabloid Newspapers. Tabloids were made for summer. Hot days will inevitably lead to pictures of bikini-clad lovelies cavorting in fountains, dogs playing with hose-pipes and parrots eating ice-cream; this is a part of our cultural heritage of which we are justly proud. Real news is simply put on hold until September, or is tucked safely away behind the pictures of children with Slush Puppy cartons on their heads.

7. The Seaside. The British seaside is a wondrous thing, demonstrating the wonder of humanity in its many forms. Here we eat bubblegum-flavoured ice-cream, paddle in seaweed-infested waters, and trample on the complex sandcastles and villages that nearby children have spent hours crafting. Pack a lovely picnic (must include pink wine – see Reason 4) and enjoy the feeling as your shoulders start to burn; remember, the rest of the summer will be wet, so plenty of time for the redness to fade.

June 12, 2010
7 Reasons That The Panini World Cup 2010 Sticker Album Is Frustrating

The World Cup starts today, and so does my 2010 World Cup Panini sticker album, and it’s fair to say that I’m rather excited by both events. Somehow though, the Panini album isn’t quite as much fun as I remember them being in my childhood.

1. Cost. Traditionally, Panini sticker albums are very expensive to complete, but I’ve found ten packets of stickers on Amazon for £4.52, and I only need 638 stickers to complete the pack. So potentially, I could complete my collection for as little as £60 (approximately). But that won’t happen, obviously. I’ll probably end up spending a fortune trying to find An Chol-Hyok or Haminu Dramani. As John Cleese said, “I can take the despair, it’s the hope I can’t stand.”

2. Duplicates. Nine Peter Crouches. I know I’m going to end up with nine Peter Crouches. Obviously, when buying packs of stickers I’ll check that there are no feet protruding from the bottom of them, but I just know that – despite my precautions – I’ll end up with nine of him. And what the hell can I swap eight Peter Crouches for?

3. Social Media. Swapping stickers isn’t the challenge that it used to be. It would be a matter of ease to use the Twitter hashtag #panini to find other people to swap with; there’s also a Facebook group to swap World Cup stickers in. Where’s the difficulty there? Obviously it’s preferable to having grown-men turn up at their local school playgrounds looking for swapsies but still, it does take some of the challenge out of it.

4. It’s Out Of Date. Panini obviously had to put the albums together before the final World Cup squads were announced. My first six stickers (free with the album) were; Steven Pienaar, Javier Mascherano, Rio Ferdinand, Michael Essien, Didier Drogba and Fernando Torres, yet only 67% of those players are going to be at the World Cup. And Drogba’s fitness is still a bit of a question-mark. In the Panini England squad, there’s no Jamie Carragher or Joe Cole, but Theo Walcott and David Beckham are there. Sadly, Bobby Moore isn’t.

5. Cheating. You can now order the missing stickers that you need to complete your album from Panini online. That’s outrageous. It would feel like cheating. When did they start doing that? The potential of failing to complete the album is one of the most important parts of the sticker-album experience: It makes the investment in stickers a gamble. And it’s important to teach children to gamble because…um…okay, perhaps it isn’t. But it is important to teach them that sometimes life is hard, and that desire and effort alone often aren’t enough to succeed. We need to beat the hope out of them while they’re still young. Never mind mollycoddling them with the certainty of a complete album. Bastards!

6. Referees. There aren’t any referees in the album. But I’m supporting Howard Webb this World Cup; I think he can go all the way to the final. I’ve never complained about the lack of a picture of a former policeman from Rotherham before – possibly no one has – but why aren’t there any refs? Surely if there’s room for players that aren’t playing, there should be room for officials?

7. The Customary Descent Into Panini Madness. My birthday occurs during the World Cup. What do you think I’ve asked for? Clothes? Furniture? A bicycle? Beer? No, eschewing all sorts of cool and interesting presents, I’ve asked for stickers. Lots of stickers. Because I want to complete my Panini album (without resorting to cheating) more than I want anything in the world. In fact, I’d probably get more satisfaction from completing it than I would from an England World Cup victory. It’s only day one, and already my Panini album has caused me to lose all sense of proportion. Where will it end?

June 11, 2010
7 Reasons I Should Be Celebrated The World Over

Today I turn 27. I is Jon. Happy Birthday to me. Thanks. This very special day gives me a wonderful opportunity to indulge in a little piece of narcissism. Well, I say narcissism. It’s more a chance to try and make the world a better place.

Image Courtesy of Ceci Masters

1. Holiday. June 10th would automatically be made a public holiday. And just before you start thinking this could never happen, well it already has. In Portugal.

2. Statues. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not so vain that I think there should be statues of me in every town, village and hamlet. But one in every 50sq miles sounds about right. The simple fact of the matter is that there are 6.2 billion people on this planet and I can’t get round to everyone. A statue does exactly what I do. Apart from get injured when someone takes exception to seeing me everyday and knocks my head off.

3. Italians. As this short film demonstrates, they need to sort their attitude out. I am hoping that if the rest of the world celebrate me then the Italians might join in. Voluntarily or otherwise.

4. Common Denominator. There is a lot of bad blood between a lot of people in this world. What the world needs now is love sweet love, but if we can’t get that we need something else. Something that ignores borders. Something that ignores beliefs. Something that ignores opinions. Something that ignores The French. Something that everyone can agree is beauty. Maybe then, with common ground, we can build a better world for our children. That something, is me.

5. I Do The Things That You Don’t Have To. For the most part of my life, I have been getting on and doing the jobs that otherwise you’d have to do. Trying to become an international athlete for instance. Or deciding that I could take on – and beat – Australians at every single sported ever invented. Or spending three years of my life searching for my friend’s look-alike – and then writing a book about it. Or planning to catch one hundred London buses in one night. If it wasn’t for me, you’d have had to do all that. You’d be the one who was a bit…erm…strange.

6. You Again. Have you sent me a Birthday card for today? The chances are you probably haven’t. But that’s not necessarily your fault. It may simply be a case that you don’t know me. If you don’t know me you can’t be expected to know when to start looking at Birthday cards. If I was celebrated all over the world though, you would know. Clinton Cards would put adverts up and stuff.*

7. 7 Reasons. If I was celebrated the whole world over, I wouldn’t have to spend ages, in the early hours my birthday, trying to think of a poxy seventh reason as to why you should celebrate me.

*If you do know me and you haven’t sent me a card, I would like to know why. Thanks.

June 10, 2010
7 Reasons That 7 Reasons Didn’t Appear Today

7 Reasons is owned and run by two men, Marc Fearns and Jonathan Lee. Outside of the weekends, they tend to – when not co-authoring posts – take it in turns to write for it. Today it was Marc’s turn. Despite being on holiday, he was confident that he could combine a trip to the North-West of England with writing. He was wrong. Here are 7 reasons that 7 Reasons didn’t appear today.

1. Hair. Being away from home exposes you to all sorts of new and exciting things. This morning, in a friend’s bathroom Marc discovered hair moisturiser. He had no idea what it was, and there were no instructions on the carton, but he felt compelled to experiment with it anyway. Even now, many hours later, he is still staring admiringly at his hair in the mirror, enthralled by its lustrous sheen.

2. Beer. Marc has consumed so much beer in the last few days that it has begun to affect his biological makeup. He has now mutated into the solid form of beer, which is bread. Could you type with toast soldiers for fingers? No, of course you couldn’t. Nor can he.

3. Technology. Marc hates Macs. He was staying with a friend who hates PCs. Marc’s friend was writing school reports, and was obliged to use a PC (the report-writing software doesn’t work on a mac). Because of this, Marc had to write his 7 Reasons post using his friend’s MacBook Pro. They were sharing a kitchen table. Unfortunately, the level of agitated technological incomprehension and frankly astonishingly vitriolic invective reached such a vociferous and sustained hubbub that a furious and wrathful god was provoked into smiting them both down. Forensic pathologists, having sifted through the ashes, have determined that the last words they wrote were:

4. The Hash Key. Where the hell is the hash key and why are they hiding it? I’m a grown man, I can be trusted to use the hash key responsibly, it’s not like I can start a war with it or…

And:

Bill Gates. F. Must try harder and why the fuck can’t I disable the trackpad!

4. Tradition. A dog ate 7 Reasons. It’s true, and if you can read this now you’re inside a giant dog. We’re fairly certain that he’s called Rex.

5. Cycling. Marc lives in a reasonably flat city and rides a fixed-gear cycle. Unfortunately, he hasn’t mastered the technique of stopping by locking the back wheel of his bike with his legs yet. With brilliant logic he decided that removing the rear brake from his bicycle would motivate him to learn this technique. He is staying in Bolton, a town riddled with steep inclines. The somewhat pensive-looking cyclist was last seen hurtling down a hill at a speed estimated to be in excess of 350mph. Onlookers reported that, as he overtook two lorries, a bus, three motorcycles, fifteen cars and a coach containing pensioners from Morecambe, he was heard to say, “crikey”. His current whereabouts are unknown and Bolton Police are too busy investigating reports of a meteor strike to search for him.

6. The Nautical Look. Marc was attacked by an angry mob of sailors, or women (he’s not sure which), who took exception to his observation that horizontal stripes were suitable attire for burglars, chavs and Beano characters but should never be worn by decent people: He was cast adrift with no access to writing implements, fruit or espresso. Which is pretty much the standard Bolton visitor experience, but in a boat.

7. Wrongness. It turns out that it has appeared today. Oh well, everyone can be wrong once a week. It’s Jon’s turn again tomorrow.

June 9, 2010
7 Reasons Marc Is Wrong About The Nautical Look

Yesterday, Marc wrote a post called, 7 Reasons That The Nautical Look Is Objectionable. I read it aghast. How could someone so intelligent be so wrong? Today, I aim to put right his wrongs.

1. Saturation Point. Too much of a thing is never good – which is why I’m editing this with a hangover – and the nautical look is everywhere. It’s finally reached saturation point and now it seems that almost every woman in the UK is dressed as a sailor. Now, there’s nothing wrong with women dressing as sailors, or anything else that takes their fancy, but that doesn’t mean that every woman should dress as one. Wouldn’t it be nice to see some of them dressing in outfits without horizontal stripes and rope motifs? Perhaps as spacewomen or conquistadors. Or Minnie Mouse. Or just as themselves. Our high streets look like a production of HMS Pinafore at the moment. What Marc seems to be forgetting here is why nearly every woman in the UK is dressing as a sailor. It’s fairly simple. This is the UK. We are a sea-faring nation. It’s in our blood. So when Marc asks why aren’t women dressing as Minnie Mouse or conquistadors, it’s because British women have no emotional attachment to these themes. And because they’d look stupid.

2. Confusion. It’s confusing. Sailors are sailors: we can tell that by their uniforms and their weatherbeaten faces. Women are women: we can tell that because they smell nice and have soft hands. But the nautical look blurs the issue somewhat. No, it doesn’t. Nor is it confusing. It might be confusing to Marc, but that is because he doesn’t have the required imagination. I see nothing wrong with this overlap. In fact I see a very positive outcome. The classic ‘woman dressed as a sailor’ fantasy. Allow me to demonstrate using science…or maths (It’s definitely one of those things).

A Venn diagram illustrating the 'woman dressed as sailor' fantasy.

3. Anchor. When choosing an outfit with a decorative motif, is it really wise to choose one that rhymes with wanker? Yes, it is. Much more wise than to have a decorative motif of – and I do apologise in advance for saying this – a punt.

4. The Next Step. Many women are currently dressing as sailors, but what if this fad takes a slight twist? What if sailors start dressing as women? A fair point you would think. Unfortunately, Marc has this the wrong way round. It’s the fact that sailors originally started dressing as women – in the 1800’s when men were on ships together for months and months on end – that has made the women adopt the nautical theme for themselves.

5. Weather. Now I’m sure the nautical look would look fine and dandy when worn on the back of a motor-yacht moored in Porta Banus or Cannes. But it isn’t. It’s being worn in Manchester, where it rains all summer. The last time I checked, rain was wet. And it formed puddles. The sea is wet and is one big puddle. Wet weather, therefore, would seem to be perfect for the nautical look.

6. Do It Properly. The nautical look is being done in a half-hearted manner. Wearing a stripy top under a blue jacket is lame. If you want to do the nautical look well, wear a tricorn hat, an eye-patch, a peg-leg, a hand-hook; carry a parrot around. Wear vast epaulettes dripping with gold braid and the full cuff insignia of an Admiral; accessorise your outfit with a telescope or a sextant. Ditch your umbrella in favour of a Sowester hat, oilskins and a life-jacket. Grow a beard. This isn’t really doing it properly. This is dressing like a pirate. Marc wants you to drop your nauticals in favour of his pirate vision. Don’t do it.

7. Paris Hilton. Paris Hilton’s a big fan of the nautical look. Paris Hilton’s also an idiot. Do you really want to dress like an idiot? I use Paris Hilton as a general guide to life. You can too. Whoever you are, whatever you’re about to do, ask yourself the question: Would Paris Hilton do this? If the answer is yes, don’t do it. Okay, he’s not totally wrong here. Marc is right on one aspect. Paris Hilton is an idiot. But actually, if we are honest with ourselves, we are also a little bit jealous. Paris Hilton is a millionairess – in her own right – for doing pretty much nothing with no talent. I like that idea. I like the idea of becoming a millionairess for doing pretty much nothing, with no talent. And, if adopting the nautical look is part of the ‘doing nothing’ masterplan, then I’m in. And I’m not even a woman.

June 8, 2010
7 Reasons That The Nautical Look Is Objectionable

1. Saturation Point. Too much of a thing is never good – which is why I’m editing this with a hangover – and the nautical look is everywhere. It’s finally reached saturation point and now it seems that almost every woman in the UK is dressed as a sailor.  Now, there’s nothing wrong with women dressing as sailors, or anything else that takes their fancy, but that doesn’t mean that every woman should dress as one.  Wouldn’t it be nice to see some of them dressing in outfits without horizontal stripes and rope motifs? Perhaps as spacewomen or conquistadors. Or Minnie Mouse. Or just as themselves. Our high streets look like a production of HMS Pinafore at the moment.

2. Confusion. It’s confusing. Sailors are sailors: we can tell that by their uniforms and their weatherbeaten faces. Women are women: we can tell that because they smell nice and have soft hands. But the nautical look blurs the issue somewhat. Allow me to demonstrate using science…or maths (It’s definitely one of those things).

A Venn diagram which illustrates the inherent confusion caused by the nautical look.

3. Anchor. When choosing an outfit with a decorative motif, is it really wise to choose one that rhymes with wanker? No, it isn’t. Because people will take the piss.  Not having an anchor on your breast pocket insulates you from jibes and cruel humour. The same goes for not having a ship on your handbag.

4. The Next Step. Many women are currently dressing as sailors, but what if this fad takes a slight twist? What if sailors start dressing as women?  It’s confusing enough already, do we really need that?

5. Weather. Now I’m sure the nautical look would look fine and dandy when worn on the back of a motor-yacht moored in Porta Banus or Cannes. But it isn’t. It’s being worn in Manchester, where it rains all summer. And, unlike real sailors, people are wearing stuff that isn’t waterproof. I saw people attired in faux-nautical gear sheltering from rain in a bus shelter yesterday. They looked foolish.

6. Do It Properly. The nautical look is being done in a half-hearted manner. Wearing a stripy top under a blue jacket is lame. If you want to do the nautical look well, wear a tricorn hat, an eye-patch, a peg-leg, a hand-hook; carry a parrot around. Wear vast epaulettes dripping with gold braid and the full cuff insignia of an Admiral; accessorise your outfit with a telescope or a sextant. Ditch your umbrella in favour of a Sowester hat, oilskins and a life-jacket. Grow a beard. This woman demonstrates how to pull off the nautical look properly.

Or you could do what this man did and dress up as a mermaid before sinking without trace. That’s true dedication to the nautical look.

7. Paris Hilton. Paris Hilton’s a big fan of the nautical look. Paris Hilton’s also an idiot. Do you really want to dress like an idiot? I use Paris Hilton as a general guide to life. You can too. Whoever you are, whatever you’re about to do, ask yourself the question: Would Paris Hilton do this? If the answer is yes, don’t do it.

What an anchor.

June 7, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: Make Do And Mend.

Hello. It’s Sunday again. And Sundays come as Sundays do – after five days of hoping that the other 7 Reasons writer has come up with something for Sunday. They never have. Which is why Marc came to me yesterday, breathless and devoid of inspiration, and said, ‘We don’t have anything for Sunday do we?’

‘No,’ I replied, supping on a cup of tea and stroking my mirror.

‘Damn,’ was his silent reply.

We sat in silence for a minute or twenty. Neither one of us prepared to say, ‘Let’s have a Sunday off’. Then, just as I was about to snap my gingerbread man at the neck, Marc leapt out of his chair and kicked the cat. ‘Let’s do some more advertising!’ he declared.

‘Marc,’ I began, my blood beginning to simmer at my colleagues scant disregard for our lack of money, ‘we don’t have any finances. You gave all our money away to Pearl & Dean and my masks have proved about as popular as Esther Rantzen in a…well about as popular as Esther Rantzen’.

‘You make a good point Jon,’ Marc said, taking off his pith helmet and vaulting over the desk, ‘but maybe we can just make do and mend.’

I looked puzzled, Marc was using phrases from World War II again. ‘How do you mean, Marc?’

‘I mean, we just use a load of old adverts and pimp them to suit 7 Reasons. Then we can ask people to put them up in their windows and on the back of their cows.’

‘Genius!’ I shouted, sending tea all over my groinal department. And with that Marc left, leaving a waft of whisky and a cat stuck in my plant pot.

Thirteen hours later we were finished. And so was the cat.

So yes. Please choose your preferred poster and stick it up in your place of work, caravan, shed or personal telephone box. Then take a photo and send it to us. It’s not that we are an unbelieving duo, we just like to know our hard work has been worth it.

June 6, 2010
Guest(ish) Post: 7 Reasons We Should Be Kept Well Away From Photoshop

Today’s guest(ish) post comes to you courtesy of Marc Fearns, who can usually be found doing stuff here, and the amazing Ceci Masters of Swanning About fame; a blog so good that it’s in The Times’ list of the top 50 cricket blogs, along with the blog of another friend of 7 Reasons, Sarah Ansell, and forty-eight other blogs that we’re less interested in.

This guest(ish) post is a little unusual. It tells the tale of last Friday evening when, shamefully, Ceci and I were both at our homes, with our Photoshop software open.

1. Crouching Crouch Hidden Dragon. It started innocently enough. Ceci – inspired by the film Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon – produced this picture for the Facebook group, Hollywoodgate: Onde futebol e película cruzam. She also put it on Twitter.

2. Hiding Crouch Tiger-Dragon. And Twitter is where I saw it, while I was in the middle of photoshopping something else (a cat in a submarine, I think). Anyway, I was struck by the wordplay potential so within five minutes, this was winging its way to Ceci.

3. Crouch’s Tiger Hiddink’s Dragon. Then, about five minutes after the previous picture, Ceci put this one up. There was only one way that this was going to go.

4. Grouchy Tiger Smitten Crouch. We had become embroiled in a duel. A frenzied maelstrom of a contest in which PCs were pistols and Crouch crouching crouchy tigery tiger tiger-dragons were our ammunition. In short, we had lost the plot. I made this one. But girls are sensible, and you can always rely on them to stop the madness, can’t you?

5. Hiding Tiger Crouch With Drag On. No, it turns out that you can’t. You can rely on them to take the madness and add big hair and sequins to it.

6. Crouch In Drag On Ridden Tiger. Now, Ceci’s previous picture was not only brilliant, it was also a bit frustrating, as I’d already got started on this one before I discovered that she’d used drag too. But now that we’d started coming up with the same ideas we agreed that it was time to call a halt to things, and we established a truce.

7. Crouch In Tiger With A Bag On. The truce lasted a full three minutes or so, until I thought of this.

That’s why Ceci and I should be kept well away from Photoshop but, like predatory beasts, we’ll be watching, waiting, ever-ready to pounce during the World Cup. The moment that Crouch does anything that even remotely resembles the words tiger, dragon or hiding, one of us will strike. Well, unless his solicitors get in touch which, on balance, seems entirely possible.

June 5, 2010
7 Reasons It’s Outrageous The BBC Have Cancelled Last Of The Summer Wine

1. It Has Sunday Written All Over It. Last Of The Summer Wine is Sunday. On it comes at around 6pm and immediately the nation realises it will soon be Monday. That is Last Of The Summer Wine’s job. Getting people depressed so they start the week off in the right way. Now what are we going to do? We can’t be happy on Monday morning. That would be wrong.

2. The Joke. It’s the same one. It always has been. I haven’t watched every episode of every series. In fact I don’t think I’ve watched even thirty seconds of every series, but that doesn’t matter. Because I know what the joke is. Three blokes flying down a hill in a bath tub. Or on a sofa. Cue two policeman looking alarmed as it buzzes by them. (One of them drops a sandwich too). They don’t write jokes like that anymore. Where am I going to go for my sofa fix?

3. Sex In The Countryside. There is something beautifully innocent about old women sitting in a lounge, eating sticky buns, talking about their husband’s inability to remember to take off their muddy shoes when they come home of an evening. That’s what women should be talking about. We won’t have that again. Instead we’ll have repeats of four forty-somethings, sitting in a New York restaurant, discussing the size of Samantha’s latest pepper grinder conquest. Disgusting. You hear me? Disgusting.

4. Holmfirth. For the uninitiated, this is where Last Of The Summer Wine is filmed. I have never been. Because I don’t need to. Every year, if I want to, I can see how much the place has changed on the TV. Along with all other eight regular viewers. But what are we going to do next year? When it’s no longer on. I’m going to have to go on a coach trip to Holmfirth with eight randomers. I don’t want to go to Holmfirth with eight randomers. It’s bloody miles away.

5. Something Else Not To Watch. I don’t watch Last Of The Summer Wine. No matter what you may think. When the final series finishes though, I won’t be able to not watch it. So that means I’ll have to find something else not to watch to restore the happy balance in my TV viewing. This is pressure. I can’t choose Loose Women because I already choose not to watch it. I’l have to find something I don’t know about on some channel I don’t know about and not watch that instead. What a waste of time.

6. Potential. It promised so much didn’t it? And it was so close to achieving it. What with Russ Abbot playing a milkman who thinks he was once in MI5. What a shame to cancel the show just as it was reaching its climax.

7. 2010: The End. What with Lost ending this year. And 24. And Heroes. And Flashforward. It feels a bit like a salt in the wound to also have Last Of The Summer Wine ending on us. And this comes from someone who didn’t even watch 24. Or Heroes. Or Flashforward. Or Last Of The Summer Wine. Which only goes to show how ridiculous and painful the BBC’s decision is.

June 4, 2010