7 Reasons

Tag: Anne Widdecombe

  • 7 Reasons You Should Not Ride A Crocodile

    7 Reasons You Should Not Ride A Crocodile

    Sometimes at 7 Reasons we’re bloody helpful.  Today is one of those days.  We know that crocodiles seem cool and it looks like it would be fun to ride one, but before you go out and try it for yourself, we want to warn you that it isn’t a good idea.  Here are seven reasons why.

    A black and white photo of a girl riding a crocodile (or an alligator)

    1.  Posture. Crocodiles carry themselves very close to terra-firma. So much so that their bellies occasionally scrape the floor. People usually like to dangle their legs; but on a crocodile-back one would have to forego such a luxury. Only those who attend regular Yoga classes are going to last more than five minutes with their knees above their ears. Who would have thought doing the Downward-Facing Dog every Tuesday at 9am could prove so beneficial?

    2.  Danger.  Riding a crocodile is dangerous as they’re amphibious.  You’re not just at risk of getting your trousers wet.  Crocodiles can hold their breath for up to two hours underwater, which is great for them, but you would drown in little over a minute which would be unfortunate for you, and inconvenient for the crocodile who could conceivably have to drag your waterlogged corpse around for weeks before it came loose.  And the other crocodiles would probably poke fun.

    3.  Comfort. This may surprise the humble crocodile-boot attired 7 Reasons reader, but a crocodile was not built for comfort. With bony, plate-like scales and raised keels running down its powerful tail, you’d find more comfort racing along the Great Wall of China in a pantomime-horse costume with Anne Widdecombe playing your backside.  And more fun, if you’re into that sort of thing.

    4.  Hunting. Don’t be thinking that your mount is going to stop trying to find food just because you’re on its back. If your croc sees a buffalo, you’d better hope you have your whistle with you, otherwise there is no way you are going to be able to referee the imminent battle for lunch.  Not even Pierluigi Collina could keep a hungry crocodile from attempting to feast on a water buffalo.  Even with a pair of fifth officials flanking the buffalo line.

    5.  Time Keeping. Crocodiles are renowned for their laissez-faire approach to time-keeping. Hence the famous expression, ‘See You Later Alligator, In A While Crocodile’. How long is a while? Ten minutes? Ten hours? Ten years? If I’m riding a crocodile, I want to know how long it is going to take until we reach our destination. If it’s ten years, I should probably bring spare pants.

    6.  Motion Sickness.  Crocodiles are believed to have been around for over 200 million years, which is almost as long as Coronation Street.  It stands to reason therefore that, if you want to know about riding a crocodile, you should consult someone that’s been knocking around for a long time.  So we did, and Sir Elton John said, “Well, Crocodile rocking is something shocking”.  So there you have it.  If you want to avoid motion sickness, stick to riding more stable beasts.  Sir Elton says so.

    7.  Accessories.  Finding the right accessory for crocodile riding is more tricky than you’d imagine.  Most people would probably think, “what goes with crocodile? I know, crocodile”, and then purchase something like a Hermes Birkin bag in the much sought-after saltwater-crocodile skin. But wait.  That would be foolish, madam.  Either the lovingly finished hide of the saltwater crocodile in an immaculately dyed colour will cause your crocodile to be jealous, or it will cause it to be nervous.  And who knows where that could lead?  It may see your handbag as some sort of rival and pounce or it may see it as a hideous portent of the future and you may experience an unexpected and unpleasant trip to the crocodile bathroom.  Either way, accessorizing your crocodile is a potential minefield.

    *We apologise for mentioning the Downward Facing Dog and Anne Widdecombe in the same post.  And, indeed, on the same internet.  We’re off for therapy now, see you tomorrow.

  • 7 Reasons My Dream Was A Bit Odd

    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.

    7 Reasons My Dream Was A Bit Odd

    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.