Tag: bag

7 Reasons That Attacking A Train With A Bag Of Stones And Excrement Is A Bad Idea

It is said that everyone remembers where they were when they heard that JFK had been assassinated. Similarly, that everyone remembers where they were when Princess Diana died. I don’t know about that. One thing is for sure though, I will always remember where I was when I heard that a train had been attacked using a bag containing stones and excrement suspended from a wire. Here are seven reasons that it’s a bad idea.

1. It’s Unfriendly. I admit, sometimes we’ve had houseguests that have overstayed their welcome and I’ve wanted them to go and I’ve become fractious and my conversation has become terse and curt, and my wife has rebuked me for that by suggesting that I’m, “…not being very friendly”, but never, ever have I considered attacking a houseguest with a bag of stones and excrement. This would be the level of friendliness you could expect if your enemy’s enemy was Uday Hussein. On the Hitlerian scale of unfriendliness (which, having just thought of it, I’m going to begin work on right now), this will rate quite high.

2. It’s Mind-Boggling. What do you hope to accomplish by attacking a train with a bag of stones and excrement? If we consider it as an act of vandalism, I can understand the use of stones*. But excrement? Why would anyone do this? What is the point of this? It’s so mind-boggling that it defies both rational and irrational explanation (which is a shame, as that’s one of my “gifts”). My mind is officially boggled.

3. It Serves No Purpose. While, in major cities across the nation, there are people committing antisocial acts for personal gain and ending up owning iPhones and Tesco Value Basmati Rice, what happens in Yorkshire? A train is attacked with a bag of stones and excrement. But it’s hard to see the benefit of covering a train in poo. While Londoners are sitting back and watching their new, free HDTVs (or HD ready if they nicked the wrong one) what does the perpetrator of this act gain? The satisfaction of having got poo on a train? You could just visit the restaurant car for that sensation. There is no rational motive.

4. It Causes Temporary Homelessness. When I saw the headline Vandals attack train with bag of stones and excrement yesterday, I have to say that it caused me to laugh. Rather a lot. In fact, I laughed so long and so hard that I woke my wife from her afternoon nap and she banished my son and I from the house. It was raining so we had to go to the pub. This is not a complaint, by the way, it’s an observation.

5. Seriously, It’s More Mind-Boggling. PC Gary Shepherd of the British Transport Police said: “A lot of planning must have gone into this…”. He’s right. Where do you get a bag of excrement from? Is it something that the culprit found lying around? Did they have to shit into a bag for several weeks until they had enough? Did he** solicit the help of friends and family? Did he offer to buy the poo from strangers? Did he steal the poo from somewhere? Outside of a blaxploitation flick, where the hell do you get a bag of shit from?

6. Frustratingly, It Hints At Greatness. What begets greatness? Usually a fusion of innovation and endeavour. No one can deny that attacking a train with a bag of stones and excrement is innovative: Infinite monkey theorem suggests that, “a monkey hitting keys at random on a typewriter keyboard for an infinite amount of time will almost surely type a given text, such as the complete works of William Shakespeare”, but could a monkey with a bag and some stones living near a railway line ever conceive of this act? I think not. It also shows dedication. Not only was the bag meticulously rigged, but the act of gathering (or producing and collecting) all that poo shows dedication, self-motivation and commitment to the cause. This person could probably produce work of greatness and real cultural and social worth. If they weren’t a vile and abhorrent weirdo that gets their jollies by spattering trains with a cocktail of turds, that is.

7. What If You Get Caught? It’s an oft-repeated maxim that “if you can’t do the time, don’t do the crime.” But what is the time in this case? It’s a life sentence, because anyone being convicted for attacking a train with a bag of stones and excrement would surely receive a massive amount of publicity. International publicity. Every last person in the world would know who this person was, and there’s only one nickname that would be bestowed on him. Shitbag. People will point in the street and shout “Shitbag”. People in the pub will greet him by saying, “Evening, Shitbag”. It will become so ingrained that his family will probably address him as Shitbag: “Can you pass the gravy, Shitbag?” “Don’t forget it’s the PTA meeting this evening, Shitbag.” “Oooh, look into my eyes and tell me I’m your little panda-bear again, Shitbag.” That’s a proper life sentence. Shitbag.

*I can’t really, it’s just a lot more conventional.

**It’s a he. While I’m a firm believer in equality, this is too weird for a woman to be involved in.

August 11, 2011
7 Reasons You Should Not Try And Escape From Prison In A Suitcase

This is the second 7 Reasons post I have written today. The first, entitled ‘7 Reasons Harry Potter Was Plagiarised*’, will sadly never see the light of day. I lost my nerve when I discovered JK Rowling has a habit of suing people for defamation. It’s a shame really because I had some wonderful insights for you. Harry Potter stealing John Lennon’s glasses for example. And JK Rowling herself stealing the name of Jamiroquai’s lead vocalist. It’s also a shame because I’ve written about hiding in suitcases. And, I’ll be honest with you, it’s not very good. You can stop here if you want? Up to you.

Oh, hi. Thanks for sticking with me. Don’t say I didn’t warn you though. So, yes, today’s piece is about a suitcase. You may have seen the story this week about a Mexican woman trying to smuggle her husband out of prison in a suitcase. They nearly made it too. They got as far as the main door. In laymans terms that’s about as far as Big X got in The Great Escape. It was a foolhardy attempt. Here’s why.

1. Suffocation. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to tell you there isn’t much oxygen in a suitcase, but I asked one anyway. And this is what he said. “There isn’t much oxygen in a suitcase.” So there you have it. From a rocket scientist himself. If you get in a suitcase, you might die. And escaping from prison in a coffin is not quite the same thing.

2. Pain. Only four kinds of people can get into a suitcase. Babies. And not many babies go to prison. Dead people. And not many dead people go to prison. Contortionists. And not many contortionists stay in prison – they usually escape through the bars. And finally, idiots. Only an idiot would get into a suitcase. And a desperate idiot at that. Get into a suitcase like this guy above and you will not walk again. You will have to roll. Which means you can only go down. To get home each day you will have to wait 24 hours for the earth to spin on its axis.

3. Reliance. Once you get in a suitcase you are very much reliant on other people. Now I have never got into a suitcase, but if it’s the same as a post bag I know you can’t open them from the inside. Especially if someone has attached a padlock. As popular culture has shown, things go wrong in prison breakouts. Either your accomplice is killed or they turn out to be working for the police. Or both. If you’re going to get into a suitcase, you must, must, must do your background checks first. And even then I would advise just walking out of the gates as most in the UK seem to.

4. Left Luggage. If you do make it out of the prison, you can’t just get out of the suitcase in the car park. That would be silly. Instead, you have to wait until you reach home. Which means you’ve got to get home. Now, if your accomplice is your wife – as it was in suitcasegate – or your husband, or another family member, or a friend, this is dangerous. Except on prison visits they probably won’t have seen you for a while. You’re not a big part of their life anymore. I am sorry to say this, but they have probably started to forget about you. Which is why they may well forget they’ve got you with them. It’s only after they watch the bus drive off that they realise they’ve left you on board. Who knows where you’ll end up? Probably Wandsworth. That’s where most buses end up.

5. Expense. Perhaps, though, home is further away than a bus journey. Perhaps you need to get on a plane. Not a problem if you’re going with British Airways. A major problem however if you’re going with Ryan Air. The £1 seat may have looked bargain when you booked it, but now it’s going to cost you £2,000 in excess baggage.

6. Solo. So far we have assumed – fairly it has to be said – that you have an accomplice. But what if you don’t? What happens if you just climb in a suitcase and hope? Exactly, you’ll be a person in a suitcase. Hoping. And prison breakouts don’t come to those who get in suitcases and hope.

7. Storyline. There are many great films and many great books about escaping from prison. Some based on real events – Escape From Alcatraz, Colditz, Le Trou – and some not – The Shawshank Redemption, Cool Hand Luke. In none of these did anyone try to escape in a suitcase. Why? Because you can’t film inside a suitcase. It’ll just be dark. And it you want 90 minutes of staring at darkness you may as well just switch the TV off. Or go to Great Yarmouth. If you are going to escape from prison, dig a tunnel. Or build a rocket. At least that way there is a chance someone will turn your exploits into a major motion picture. Otherwise it’s just a waste of time isn’t it?

*It clearly wasn’t. Calm down.

July 7, 2011
7 Reasons That Carrier Bags are Baffling

The carrier bag might seem like a rudimentary bit of kit. Basic, functional, easy to understand. But it isn’t. Carrier bags are, in fact, among the most baffling things known to humankind. And by humankind, I mean me. Here are seven reasons why:

1. Because I Have Hands. People in shops are endlessly, needlessly trying to force carrier bags on me. But I don’t want one most of the time. Often, I’m just buying one or two items. And I don’t need a carrier bag in that circumstance. How many hands does it take to carry a single item? One. How many hands does it take to carry a bag containing a single item? One. So I don’t need a bloody bag, do I? It’s not difficult. And I already have a bag; it’s that thing I’m wearing over my shoulder that looks like a bag. But despite having both hands and bags, I am continually pestered to take the things. And I don’t know why.

2. Because They’re Everywhere. I always try not to take carrier bags, but despite this, my kitchen is full of the things. And every time I go in there, there are more of them. I don’t know how – or when – the rise of the bags began, but they are inexorably usurping our cooking space. We started off, like everyone does, with a bag of bags, and now we have at least a bag of bag of bag of bag of bags. Well, more than one, actually.

3. Because I Don’t Know What To Do With The Things. You might think this is the point where I’m going to make a few humorous and bizarre speculations on what one might do with a glut of carrier bags, but no, I’m not going to do that. This is because I’m totally bewildered and overwhelmed by my surfeit of them. I have no more idea of what to do with all the bags in the kitchen than I would have of what to do with a large, glittery, singing horse called Jemima in my dining room. Less, in fact. Or fewer?

4. Because Of Chavs. It seems that the only people that have any idea of what to do with used carrier bags are chavs. They put them over the seats of their rusty mountain bikes and tie them down to the seat-post. All of them do this. But I have no idea why. It’s not to keep their bottoms dry because they never remove the bag; even after rain. It’s a further level of bafflement.

5. Because They’re Not In The Same Condition I Left Them In. Occasionally, a rare and wondrous event occurs: I realise that I’m going to have to carry some presents to a friend’s house, or I’m going for a walk in the countryside and there might be blackberries to pick, and I find that I will actually need a carrier bag. And then I excitedly perform a brief, joyous dance – a bit like a jig – while singing repeatedly “I’m going to get rid of a bag, I’m going to get rid of a bag…” to the tune of A Life on the Ocean Wave. But when I come to use them, I discover that at least 50% of the bags are torn. But they weren’t torn when I put them into the bag of bag of bag of bag of bag of bags. So what the hell has happened to them in the meantime? Do they fight?

6. Because People Lie About Them. It’s not just that they’re all over my kitchen, mocking and taunting me, and confounding my every attempt to get rid of them that I find them baffling. It’s that people actively lie to us about the things. Don’t use carrier bags, environmentalists tell us; it’s wasteful; a lot of resources are used up in their manufacture; they don’t grow on trees. But this just isn’t true. Carrier bags do grow on trees. I’ve seen them. Just go outside and look at any urban tree and you’ll see the carrier bags growing on it. And we’re obviously using far fewer carrier bags than the trees are producing, because we’re not harvesting them with any regularity. That’s why there’s still a Woolworths bag growing in a tree near my house. Even though they went bust bloody ages ago.

7. Because Of The Holes. We all know why there’s a hole at the top of the bag. It’s to punish people that are stupid enough to try to put baguettes into them. But no one knows why there are holes at the bottom. Are they drainage holes? Is it a government conspiracy to prevent us from moving water about easily? Is it to prevent suffocation of animals, small children and Members of Parliament? Is it to stop me from inflating the things and then bursting them (with hilarious consequences)? Is it just to confuse us? Well, if it is, it’s working.

October 12, 2010
7 Reasons That you Shouldn’t pay £650 for a bag of Potatoes and Some Cardboard

Last week in Huntingdon, a couple walking along the high street were approached by a man they didn’t know, who offered to sell them a rucksack containing an iPhone and a laptop for £650. They agreed to this and, after visiting their bank, headed off to a car park behind some shops to conclude their transaction. Some time later, on opening the rucksack, they discovered that rather than containing a laptop and an iPhone, it did in fact, contain some potatoes and some cardboard. Yes, they’d been duped. Now, it seems unlikely that you would be contemplating a similar transaction (in fact, it seems more likely that a talking vase with three fingers will become the next pope) but, just in case, here are seven reasons that it’s probably not a good idea.

1. It’s Too Much To Pay For Potatoes. Even ones that come with bonus cardboard. 2.5kg of Sainsbury’s Basics potatoes cost 99p. This means that for £650 you would get 1641 kg of them which is a lot more than you can fit in a small rucksack, in fact, it’s more than you can fit in a small hatchback. Or, you can buy fewer potatoes and, with the money you’ve saved, you can buy a rucksack. A bejewelled one made of gold and silk, probably. Oh, and an apple.

2. Stupidity. Now, far be it from me to mock the stupid…no…wait, that is what I’m about to do, sorry. So, near be it to me to mock the stupid: What the hell were they thinking, the feckless nitwits? Under what circumstance does buying a laptop in a car park from a man that’s just approached you on the street ever seem like a good idea? That was going to be posed as a rhetorical question, but I’ve just thought of the answer. Under no circumstance, that’s when. Because to most people: You; me; everyone else in the world except for two people from Huntingdon, it might set off some alarm bells.

3. Morality. Unless, of course, they believed they were buying goods that had been criminally procured from some unfortunate victim. In which case, the fact that £650 has been diddled from this couple would seem quite just. You can’t make me believe for one moment that anyone would think this was a legitimate transaction. A rucksack containing a laptop and an iPhone for £650 from a man in a car park? Hmmm. So, if you spend £650 on some potatoes and cardboard, you might end up appearing immoral. And you’ll be lumbered with a rucksack.

4. Because The Potatoes And Cardboard Come In A Rucksack. And rucksacks are awful. Not when you’re hiking or climbing, then they’re very handy, but in an urban environment, rucksacks are a liability and likely to break things in shops or provoke a fellow pedestrian or public transport user into punching the wearer. If you wear the things with the straps over both shoulders everyone thinks, what a complete cock, and if you wear the things with the straps over one shoulder everyone thinks, what a complete cock, why not just get a messenger bag? You don’t need a rucksack; there’s too much social stigma involved in wearing them.

5. The Dilemma. This comes when you discover you’ve been ripped-off and instead of visiting your favourite humour website on a shiny new computer, you’re going to have to try to read The Onion using a potato. Which sounds difficult. So then you have to decide whether you’re going to go to the police and risk incriminating yourself, or whether to accept you’ve been conned and resolve not to let it happen again. On balance, I think I’d opt for the latter. Not that I’m likely to find myself in that position, mostly on account of not being a weaselly bell-end.

6. Publicity. There’s a popular idiom which states that “any publicity is good publicity”. This idiom, however, is stupid: Publicity didn’t work out too well for BP or Gary Glitter, did it? And we can note that the anonymous victims/lucky-potato-owners haven’t revealed their identities. Possibly because they wish to remain anonymous, or possibly because they’re too stupid to remember their own names, who knows? One thing’s for certain though, if you spend £650 on potatoes and cardboard, tabloid journalists will be pulling out all of the stops to find out who you are. And that sort of publicity doesn’t seem like good publicity to me.

7. Association. Dr Crippen. Marie Antoinette. King Canute. Names which will be forever synonymous with murder, arrogance and folly. And if you spend £650 on a rucksack containing cardboard and potatoes, your name will doubtless become associated forever with either gullibility, avarice, or stupidity. Or all three. And you’ll have to recycle the cardboard.

October 7, 2010
7 Reasons I Was So Excited To See That Tiger Woods Had Changed His Putter, I Nearly Wet Myself

Yesterday came the startling revelation that Tiger Woods will be going into The Open Championships at St Andrews with a new putter. One couldn’t help but get excited. A bit too excited actually. So many questions, so few answers.

1. Will Tiger’s New Putter Help Him Stay Domesticated?

2. Will Tiger’s New Putter Get Him Into Even Bigger Holes?

3. Will It Come With Attachments For Enhanced Stroke Play?

4. Will Tiger’s Old Putter Hunt Down His Unfaithful Master?

5. Will The New Putter Have A Cheetah Headcover?

6. Will Tiger’s New Putter Let Off Balloons Everytime He Sinks A Short One?

7. Is Tiger’s New Putter A Danger To Psychedelic Penguins?

July 14, 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