Tag: beard

Guest Post: 7 Reasons The Holiday Season Sucks

If you’re feeling really festive, we mean really festive, then today’s guest post from Louise Tillotson probably isn’t the kind of thing you wanted to read over your lunch break. On the other hand, though, if you bat for Team Scrooge this is the kind of thing you’ll want to read and share and read and share and read and share… (repeat to fade).

I like Christmas as much as the next person. Provided that person is, in fact, Scrooge. Bah humbug and all that…

But honestly, I do enjoy the festive period to an extent. The act of going out in the cold, wrapped up warmly, spending my hard-earned savings on things I don’t have to find space for in my already cluttered home is, to me, one of the joys of Christmas.

When you’re a grown-up, Christmas does kind of lose its appeal. But when you have kids of your own and see it through their eyes, it seems magical all over again.

Sadly, what those little eyes don’t see are the niggly little annoyances that now seem to ruin the season just that little bit more each year. I’m talking about…

1. Christmas Cards. Every year we send flimsy bits of cardboard with awful pictures on them to people we never see or speak to throughout the year. And every year we get flimsy bits of cardboard with awful pictures on them given to us which we then have to display in our homes in case the giver happens to drop by. Which is unlikely seeing as we haven’t seen or spoken to them all year…

2. The Weather. Do a Google image search for ‘Christmas’ and you immediately get thousands of pictures containing snow-covered cottages, trees festooned with lights, and jolly-looking snowmen made out of the purest white snow. Now look out of your window. See the grey slush laying forlornly in the gutter, the crumpled lump of grey and yellow matter with a single carrot poking out at an odd angle, the few dimly lit bulbs hanging on for dear life to a wilting bush…Doesn’t the sight just fill your heart with winter joy? No, I didn’t think so.

3. Strange Bearded Men. I am of course referring to Santa Claus, Father Christmas or whatever you call him in your family. There’s just something vaguely creepy about taking your beloved little one to sit on the knee of a strange man and confide in him all their secret wishes for the season. Or more realistically; start to cry hysterically, scream for mummy and wet themselves.

4. Cold Food. Maybe it was just the way my mother cooked it, but I always think of Christmas dinner as being a lot of cold stuff covered with thick gravy. There’s obviously an art to getting four types of vegetable, three types of potato, turkey and stuffing to the same hot temperature at the same time…and my mother never mastered it. Our turkey dinners always consisted of freezing cold meat, red hot gravy and tepid everything else. Which probably wouldn’t be so bad but the turkey is always far too large and you end up having it with every meal for a week afterwards.

5. Mandatory Alcohol. And when I say alcohol I don’t mean the tasty stuff that you’d choose to drink if you were at the pub. I’m talking about stuff like Babycham, the “wine” parents buy when they want to get their offspring amusingly drunk; and Advocaat, which looks like runny custard and smells like it’s been drunk already. And woe betide you if you don’t want to drink – you’ll have a glass of this cheap plonk out of a box and damn well enjoy it!

6. Decorations. I don’t mind what people have inside their homes, as I don’t have to look at it. I’m talking about the stuff people decorate the outside of their homes with. As far as I can tell, there are two rules every outside decorator thinks they must obey: the lights must be the brightest you can find, and if they don’t flash and/or cause a hazardous distraction to drivers, you’ve not used enough. For preference, you should also create your own Nativity/Farm/North Pole with brightly lit animal structures too, for that added tackiness.

7. Presents. Last but not least, we come to the gifts. Your granny is probably delegated to trot out the old adage “giving is better than receiving” but honestly, I think it’s true. Only by not receiving gifts can we avoid having to pretend to love the hideous pair of socks a lazy uncle has bought you, or the bath salts which you just know will make you smell like the inside of a pensioner’s handbag. There’s only so long you can wear a fake smile and feign delightedness so as not to offend your well-meaning but utterly clueless relatives.

December 13, 2011
7 Reasons To Revisit Movember

If you knew me or read 7 Reasons (or indeed both) this time two years ago, you will know that I was preparing my face for Movember. After a year off in 2010 – so that I didn’t scare the future mother-in-law – I have decided to have another go. In a little over a week I am going for glory. Here’s why:

1. Colour. The first thing you’ll notice from the above is that the 2009 edition of my Movember ‘tache was somewhat ginger – with assorted whispy grey bits. It wasn’t pleasant and saw me stay exclusively in my room for the final week. 730 days on though and surely the pigments have matured? I need to know.

2. Engineering. The design I went for last time was something of a bespoke handlebar. A small handlebar for a ginger bike. I can’t honestly say that it did much for my then otherwise burgeoning sex appeal. This Movemeber I need to find out whether I can bring sexy back. I suspect I can. As long as I’m just in my pants.

3. Growth. If you think the above was precision trimmed everyday, you’d be wrong. The handlebar in question was never touched. It just grew and grew and grew. Slowly and slowly and slowly. In hindsight I actually think my follicles got bored around the second Wednesday and gave up. I need to know that can now grow something worthwhile. Something that will enable me to call myself a real man.

4. Brotherly Love. My brother is nearly two and a half years younger than me, but he can grow a beard. And a moustache. Sometimes together. Not only does this break the rules of brotherhood (a younger sibling must never make his elder look unmanly), but it also means he is better than me at something. And as all those with younger brothers can testify, this is not a pleasant or indeed acceptable situation. As such I must grow a mo this Movember to show that – normally – I don’t have facial hair out of choice, not inability.

5. Food. I like to think I’m a pretty good eater. I’ve certainly always found that I have good food to mouth coordination. Obviously there are some foods, however, that are slightly tricky to eat. Biscuits for example. Despite the speed at which I get them to my mouth, I always find a few crumbs on my t-shirt or the sofa. The crumbs that fall from the base of the biscuit, well a mo can’t do much about those, but the crumbs that fly up from the top of the biscuit as you bite into it, well they could be caught in my moustache. Perfect for a late-afternoon snack.

6. Excuse. B*Witched said ‘blame it on the weatherman’, this month I’ll blame it on the moustache. November is the kind of month when I am at my clumsy best. I am bound to knock over a plant or drop keys down a drain or accidentally steal a baby. They are not things the clean shaven version of me does. Well, apart from the plant thing. That’s just standard. Stealing babies though, is something I certainly don’t do. But, if for some strange reason I find myself charging through the North Downs will a baby, you’ll know why.

7. Massage. I know it makes me sound like a bit of a tart, but I do like a head massage. Especially when I don’t have to give myself one. Coincidentally they work wonders when I am trying to think of seven reasons. Must be a stress thing. Anyway, if the massage goes to where the hair is, maybe I’ll get a top lip massage too?*

*Oh. Apparently I won’t.

October 20, 2011
7 Reasons to Follow @BenicioDToro on Twitter

Hello! It’s Groundhog Day today and, to commemorate that event, we’re going to be doing the same thing that we did on this day last year: Not writing about Groundhog Day. Instead, we’re going to be writing about Benicio Del Toro because, as you may or may not be aware, he’s recently joined Twitter. Here are seven reasons that you should follow him.

1. It Might Be Him. Given the level of interaction that he has with his followers it seems unlikely that @BenicioDToro is the real Benicio Del Toro; after all, most celebrity tweeters have little or no interaction with their followers, with some choosing to interact only with other celebs and some not even tweeting their own stuff at all, leaving it to PR minions. Still, given that it’s Benicio Del Toro that we’re discussing, you might expect him to behave a little differently than say, Paris Hilton or Newt Gingrich. You’d probably expect the unexpected from him. So perhaps it is him.

2. It Might Not Be Him. Fake celebrity tweeters are all over Twitter. Some of them are sad, deluded individuals who contribute nothing of interest to proceedings, and some are brilliant, witty, insightful and passionate about spoofing the people they purport to be, or – for fear of litigation – don’t purport to be. I will say this; if it isn’t Benicio del Toro then, whoever it is, they’re doing a damned fine job. Such a good job, in fact, that they probably deserve to be Benicio Del Toro, replacing the real version. After all, pretending to be someone else is, fundamentally, acting, and if Del Toro is being spoofed then the spoofter clearly deserves the promotion. We should still follow though, because if it turns out that it isn’t really him, British followers will be able to sigh, grumble and rant, and American followers will be able to concoct bizarre law-suits for emotional distress suffered or for mail fraud (whatever the hell that is). Essentially we all win.

3. Interaction. He retweets lots of nice things that people say about him (we’re hopeful that he will retweet this). Hmm, you might be thinking, that sounds a little self-serving, but since I’ve been following Benicio Del Toro, my timeline’s been full of people saying nice things, which is a genuine change from the norm. Usually my Twitter feed consists of “Piers Morgan’s a cock” and “the Daily Mail want to shovel us all into ovens” endlessly tweeted and retweeted. So perhaps positivity and kindness will make Twitter a better place. Or maybe they won’t. He also responds to people. Not just glib, cursory responses, but actual considered, thoughtful ones about acting, upcoming projects and the roles he chooses. He just seems really, genuinely nice.*

4. Be An Early Adopter. If you follow Benicio Del Toro now, you’ll be seen as an early adopter and that’s always cool. Well, unless you’re an HD-DVD-9 user (the HD-DVD-9 user?) or a clog-revivalist in which case it isn’t. And if you’re both of those things you’re really in trouble. Anyway, if you follow him now, you can impress people by saying “I was in the first couple of thousand people to follow Benicio Del Toro on Twitter” or, if you’re not talking to an audience of geeks, you could should keep that quiet.

5. He Follows People Back. This might not sound intrinsically interesting, but for a celebrity tweeter, it’s unusual. It’s also a brilliant spectator sport, because every time he returns to Twitter – and we’re probably not helping here – Benicio Del Toro has many, many new followers to follow back. As this snowballs (and it will), how will he cope? Will he have to give up acting, meals or sleep to spend his time following everyone back? Will he be reduced from a fine actor to a haggard, pallid man sitting in a darkened room dressed only in his underpants endlessly clicking the Follow button as he desperately struggles to catch up? This is more exciting than a soap opera.

It's The Beard!

6. The Beard. Benicio Del Toro’s beard is one of the most awesome, luxuriant, manly examples of facial fuzz there is and we should all see that in our timeline every now and again. For men, it would be inspirational, a paragon of masculine virtue that, if we look at it long enough, might just rub off on us. For women, it would be aspirational, a paragon of masculine virtue that, if they look at it long enough, might just rub on them. Let’s face it, a proper beard is something we all love and if you follow Benicio you’ll see it a lot in your timeline.

7. Quantity. The most surprising thing is not that Benicio Del Toro is tweeting, retweeting and responding to people (after all, that’s how most of us non-celebrities use Twitter), it’s that he’s responding in such quantity to people. He’s tweeting hundreds of times a day. Yes. Hundreds. It must be quite a Herculean task to tweet that often (@7Reasons manages to tweet four or five times a day and there are two of us). And it’s not just the sheer dedication to tweeting that’s amazing, it’s the potential consequences. After all, he’s retweeting things that people are saying about him, and then they’re retweeting his retweets of the things they said about him, and then their friends are replying to the retweet of the retweet – and probably retweeting it themselves – and then they’re following him and saying nice things about him which he’ll retweet and the whole process starts again (but bigger because there’s now a wider circle of people involved). Essentially, BDT (How I wish he had a shorter name) is going to break Twitter and probably the internet as well. And if you follow him, you’ll be the first to know when that happens.**

*The bastard!

**Probably.

February 2, 2011
7 Reasons You Don’t Feel Like a Real Man

Society has a very rigid idea of what constitutes masculinity. Often, our definitions of what is masculine are rooted in the conventions and gender roles of the past, something which makes them unachievable ideals rather than anything tangible, or real, to aspire too. Despite knowing this though, sometimes you feel that you don’t quite measure up. Here are seven reasons that you don’t feel like a real man.

1. You use moisturiser. Using moisturiser doesn’t feel manly. It’s very good at keeping your skin soft and preventing the premature aging of the skin, but it’s not manly. I once moisturised my face, exited the bathroom (which my wife then entered) and tried to open the bedroom door. I couldn’t, as my hands were slick from the moisturiser and I couldn’t grip the doorknob. I was trapped outside the bedroom for five minutes. “This never happened to the captain of the Titanic”, I remember thinking, as I waited for my wife to rescue me. Real men don’t use moisturiser.

2. Facial hair. Real men – Victorian men – sported impressive and elaborate facial hair. Who, apart from Daniel Day-Lewis and Sebastien Chabal, can even grow such magnificent face furniture today? Certainly no one at this website – the best we can manage are a sparse ginger moustache and a slightly less sparse – but still bloody ginger – beard. Modern men also trim their facial hair too much. Real men have natural and wild facial hair – not prissy, neat goatees (and you should never, ever trust a man with a neat beard. Noel Edmonds has a neat beard). Real men do not have neat beards. Real men have substantial, flowing beards that are the same colour as their head-hair. Real men probably don’t even have scissors. In fact, real men probably eat scissors.

3. Coffee. Coffee is an amazing beverage and real men drink it. What real men don’t do, however, is go into Starbucks and order a venti soy-hazelnut-vanilla-cinnamon-white-mocha-choca-latte with caramel and an extra shot of espresso. Real men drink their coffee black, from tin mugs around a fire – or some sort of black-lead-coal-stove-thing with flames and a chimney – and the stronger and viler tasting the coffee is, the better. Also, real men don’t drink their coffee from cups – even if that is the only receptacle that fits into their espresso maker properly – and they don’t have a muffin with it. Not blueberry; not zucchini-walnut. Real men have no muffin.

4. Pain. Real men shrug off pain. Pain isn’t good – it’s er…well…painful – and it can be undignified. It especially hurts when you’re plucking the middle of your eyebrow to pluralise it. That sort of pain is reasonably manageable though. Real pain, however, can only dealt with by real men. I injured my knee last year (in a very manly way – up a mountain). The next day, when I woke up, it really hurt. As I climbed out of bed and put weight on it I suddenly – and quite unexpectedly – shrieked “I yi yi yi yi”, in the manner of Carmen Miranda. Real men don’t react that way to pain; Sir Ranulph Twisleton-Wykeham-Fiennes chopped his own fingers off with a fretsaw in his shed to save himself a six-thousand pound surgeons bill. I bet he didn’t shriek “I yi yi yi yi” like Carmen Miranda – or like anyone else. Never mind exhorting men complaining of pain to “man-up”, they should be told to Fiennes-up (I’m really hoping that will catch on).

5. Décor. You actually care about what the inside of your own home looks like and have an opinion about it too. You have even bought Laura Ashley toile-patterned sheets in both red and blue, because they look nice. Do real men care about soft-furnishings? Did Douglas Bader rearrange the cushions on his sofa and extinguish the scented candles before going off to beat the Germans without his legs? No he bloody didn’t. Real men don’t spend their time cocking about with flock-wallpaper and vases. Nor do they have a set of Le Creuset pans. Real men don’t even need legs.

6. Pets. Real men have real pets – parrots, cats or reasonably-sized dogs. What they don’t have are little dogs that you can put in a bag or rodents, budgies, rabbits, guinea pigs, chinchillas, snakes or fish. They certainly don’t have fish. You can tell a real man by the way he interacts with his pet. No real man names his pet Fluffykins or Pookles. Real men give their pets sensible names. Real men also address their pets properly, rather than clicking at them or making baby-noises. They address them as if they were a visiting chum:

“So Mr Prendegast, the sun has just passed the yard-arm, what would you say to a spot of brandy? What’s that Mr Prendegast? You’re a cat and you don’t drink brandy? Oh I see. Would you settle for some biscuits and a rub under the chin? I’m glad. There’s a good chap.”

That’s how a real man talks to a pet – like an equal. Real men don’t address pets as if they were idiots, or children. They don’t dress them up in clothes or put them in bags. The only time a real man carries a pet is when he wants to put it outside so that it can chase something. He certainly doesn’t give his pet chocolate-drops or a hug. Or give anyone a hug, for that matter.

7. You are a woman. Women don’t feel like real men. They don’t even feel like pretend men. They feel warm and soft. They sound like this:

March 17, 2010
7 Reasons You Shouldn’t Shave (for men).

Thinking of shaving? Don’t bother, it’s a pointless waste of time and your life will be improved by not doing it. Here’s why:

1. You are on the run. No one that goes on the run shaves. Saddam Hussein – Beard. Radovan Karadzic – Beard. Harrison Ford in The Fugitive – Beard. I don’t know why the authorities don’t draw beards on wanted posters. Fugitives always stop shaving. Why not just round up all bearded men? They did it.

2. Christmas. You are a portly man with white facial hair. Of course you shouldn’t shave before playing Santa. Children will inevitably pull your beard. If your beard should come off in a child’s hand, they will learn in a shocking and traumatic manner that Father Christmas isn’t real. Not only will you have ruined Christmas for them, you will have broken the sacred bond of trust between a young child and society. Eventually, disillusioned, the child will withdraw from society, becoming a loner, a sociopath and, in adulthood, a criminal. Their criminality will escalate until they commit a crime so heinous that they will be forced to become a fugitive and stop shaving. This will be your fault. All because you shaved. You bastard, Santa!

3. Skinny jeans. You wear skinny jeans and a plaid shirt. No one that wears skinny jeans and a plaid shirt shaves.

4. You are a Nazi. None of the crew of a U-boat shave at sea, so they end up with beards at a similar stage of development. We have learned from movies that the more ardent a Nazi the submarine’s Political Officer is, the poorer and sparser his beard growth is. This makes him appear less masculine than the rest of the crew and marks him out for ridicule. Not shaving helps fight Fascism.

5. Turkish barber. You shouldn’t shave if you live near a Turkish barber. If you did, you miss out on the pleasure of having someone else shave you. Who’d want to forgo the experience of having a middle-aged man – shaking and hyperactive from far too much strong coffee – holding a cut-throat razor to your jugular and gesticulating wildly, millimetres from your face, while he asks you where you’re going on holiday this year? Then he sets your ears on fire. You’d miss that if you shaved.

6. Shaving is boring. Scraping your face every day is mind-numbingly tedious, in fact, shaving is the second dullest experience known to man. Why not stop? Then you’d have more time to paint that fence or read this website. The dullest experience known to man is thinking about Celine Dion while shaving, in case you were wondering.

7. Stubble. If you don’t shave, you get stubble. Stubble is brilliant. Stubble is manly. Stubble makes a noise when you scratch it – a noise! How cool is that? Stubble makes you look like Don Johnson. Stubble irritates your wife. Stubble is a facial badge of freedom. Stubble is a bridge between your hair and your face. Stubble prevents you from resembling an accountant. Don’t shave. Get stubble.

November 17, 2009