Tag: blackpool

7 Reasons That This is the Worst Survey of All Time

Readers of 7 Reasons, I’m breathless with excitement. I’ve discovered something amazing. While reading this fine article to research something else, I found, in four short paragraphs in the middle, an account of an astonishingly inept survey.

The survey was conducted in the 1930s by the Mass Observation organisation and set out to quantify how many people were having sex on Blackpool beach during the month of August. They conducted their research – in a rather hapless manner – by hanging about on the beach at night looking for people having sex. During the research they managed to spectacularly and hilariously cock up their own figures. Here are seven reasons that it’s the worst survey of all time.

1. The Premise. You can call me suspicious (I won’t answer to it though) but isn’t the premise a bit fishy? I smell a rat; which is a rodent that smells of fish. It’s like someone at the Mass Observation unit suddenly said – possibly during a meeting at a pub – “I’ve got a great idea chaps, let’s all go to Blackpool and observe people having sex on the beach.” And everyone drunkenly agreed to it as a terrific idea and an utterly laudable use of their time and resources. What no one seems to have said is “But wait. Isn’t that dogging?” Because that’s what watching people having sex in a public place is. This makes their observation lack credibility. This makes it look less like a serious study and more like an excursion for perverts.

2. The Results. The results are also a little suspicious. During their study into how many people were having sex on the beach during August in Blackpool, they recorded a mere four couples having sex on the beach. Now, perhaps times have changed and things are a little more liberal in Blackpool these days but there are bus stops in Blackpool where more people are having sex than that in the middle of the afternoon. And on the beach at any given time, there are usually at least nine people attempting to have sex with a donkey. The results seem not to accurately reflect the environment that was being surveyed.

3. The Personnel. The credibility of this survey was further undermined because – and this makes it officially one of my favourite surveys ever – one of the people that the Mass Observation researchers observed having sex on the beach was another Mass Observation researcher. This brilliant incident of the hunter becoming the hunted; the ogler becoming the ogled and the peeper becoming the peepee has catapulted what was already the second least credible survey of all time (after my important research into how much tiramisu you can fit into a 6’2” man with an M in his name in a Yorkshire kitchen in December*) into first place in a race of its own.

4. The Results Are Skewed. The discovery of the researcher having sex means that, according to the Mass Observation survey, 12.5% of all people having sex on Blackpool beach during the month of August are Mass Observation researchers. Now I don’t wish to appear cynical, but if I was say…let me see…in charge of a rather unglamorous unit that generated statistics on everyday life and I was having a recruitment drive to swell the ranks of nerds that I needed to count things, what better way to glamourise it? Move over rock stars (whatever they are); move over Errol Flynn and Clark Gable; Mass Observation researchers are unabashed rampant sex beasts and brazen cocksmen and not the stammering bespectacled tweed-wearers that you previously supposed them to be. If you want to have relations with ladies in hats, join the Mass Observation unit and become a statistician. I’d imagine that brilliantined brown shoe wearers would be queuing round the block to join. On bicycles, probably.

5. The Results Are Confusing. But Wait! What if he was having sex alone? After all, if he’s the voyeuristic chap that suggested going to Blackpool in the first place, that’s entirely probable. That would make him 14% of all people having sex on Blackpool beach during the month of August! That would really be something to boast about. But that raises further questions. If you’re having sex alone while watching someone else are you having sex alone? Do you have to count the other person or people? What if he has some sort of weird fetish and is having sex alone while watching a tram or looking at a picture of Stanley Baldwin? Would that mean that former Conservative Prime Minister Stanley Baldwin was 12.5% of all people having sex on Blackpool beach in August? Should you count all of the passengers on the tram? The computations are mind-boggling.

6. It Might Be Illegal. By and large, Mass Observation researchers were amateur volunteers (and deviants apparently), but the Mass Observation organisation accepted donations and funds from book advances, so it’s not beyond the realms of possibility that the researchers were being paid to do this and it’s highly likely that they were receiving money for expenses. This raises another question. What do you call someone that gets paid when having sex? That’s right, a prostitute. So, not only has this researcher royally messed up the statistics (and given me a headache) he’s committed an act of prostitution while he was working at the beach.

7. It Gets Worse. The Mass Observation organisation have – in the act of giving money to a prostitute – become a kerb crawler. That’s the sort of label that makes the organisation that have produced the least credible survey of all time look – incredibly – less credible than they already seemed (which was not at all). This survey looks like an excuse for voyeurism, depicts Blackpool in unbelievable terms, skews its own findings by engaging in a sexual act on a beach, raises statistical questions that caused me to consider sex with a tram and the organisation that made it might have sullied their reputation by giving money to a hooker. If there has been a less credible survey ever made I’d love to see it.

*The survey’s finding: Bloody loads.

September 2, 2011
7 Reasons That Bins Shouldn’t Have Passports

Terrible news, 7 Reasons readers. According to the UK’s Identity and Passport Service, 10,000 passports per year are thrown in bins. Probably. This – if their apparently baseless supposition – is to be believed, is an awful development. At 7 Reasons we are firmly object to bins with passports and are wholly opposed to the internationally travelling bin. Here are eight reasons why.*

1. Relationships. We don’t have wholly idyllic relationships with our bins, it has to be said. They’re generally old, ugly and a bit smelly. That aside, they don’t seem to have any great expectations of us and are generally quite happy to take any old rubbish from us (except glass, paper, cardboard, plastics, aluminium, more glass and compostables). If our bins had passports and were suddenly free to leave, we would miss them, and our gardens would probably look like this, assuming that they don’t already. In fact, hoping to god that they don’t already.

2. The Bins Might Go Somewhere Nice. Possibly Nice. Or Marseilles. And why wouldn’t bins want to go to somewhere exotic? This could lead to the world’s most popular beauty spots looking something like this.**

3. Postcards. People are rubbish at writing postcards. They’re usually bland, dull, slapdash affairs that convey little. Who’s to believe that bins would make a better job of it?

4. Bin-men. And what about bin-men? They become apoplectic with rage and petulantly start hurling rubbish and bin lids about if our bins are three feet away from where they expect to find them, let alone if they’re nine thousand miles to the left of the back gate gambling in Las Vegas or hiking in Peru. They’d be livid if they had to cross an ocean to fetch them.

I started searching Google Images for pictures of angry bin-men, then a bout of existential despair overtook me and I started looking for other, happier images. Please imagine an angry bin-man. I’m sure it won’t be too difficult.

5. Air travel. Airports will be even more hellish – if this is at all possible – if bins travel internationally. The queues at check-in and at Wetherspoon’s will be swelled by their ranks, and as for security…

Just a couple of bins at the metal detectors could cause this.

6. Mystery. And what if all the bins left Blackpool? How long would it be before anyone noticed? Years, probably.

7. Terrorism. If bins had their own passports, it could be possible for fugitives to secrete themselves within them and use them as international transportation. That could have all sorts of consequences. Could we see sights like this?

Osama Laden Bin!

7 Reasons will return tomorrow before going on holiday again for a few days. We will not be taking our bins.

*No, of course not. Only a fool would expect anything other than seven.

**Half of the 7 Reasons team thinks that Paris already looks like this.

April 27, 2011
7 Reasons That Britain Should Ban Farting. Now!

Malawi is currently blazing a trail in the important field of social hygiene and public decorum. Recently, as I’m sure you’re aware, Malawi’s Justice Minister, George Chaponda, recently proffered legislation that would outlaw farting in public there. This is a brilliant proposition, and at 7 Reasons, we firmly believe that Britain should follow Malawi’s inspired lead and adopt this groundbreaking legislation as our own. Here’s why.

1. Job Creation. The world is in the grip of the worst economic crisis since the Great Depression and unemployment in the UK is rising. If we were to outlaw public flatulence, however, we would need additional police officers to enforce the new anti-guffing laws. These new officers would be paid for by funds from a central pot, entirely raised by the levying of anti-arse-methane fines which, in a country where chicken tikka massala is the most popular dish, and mushy peas and cauliflower cheese are also commonly consumed foods would surely be substantial. It would also be a more efficacious use of police resources too as, currently, since the relaxing of the minimum height requirement, short policemen and women have been burdened with the task of tackling hardened criminals who tower over them. With the new legislation, however, undersized officers would be more usefully redeployed into the anti-farting branch, where they would be far more effective at flatulence-detection than full-sized officers, who could concentrate on tackling more serious crime. The sort of stuff that occurs around head-height, rather than lower down.

2. Because It’s Disgusting. The most obvious reason to ban farting in public is that it’s disgusting. No one wants the air they breathe to be sullied by it having been filtered through the fetid innards of a grubby gentleman who has seems to have been dining on Fray Bentos pies and pickled eggs for the previous – constipated – week, and with the farting ban, we won’t have to. This fat man can be summarily hauled away by the diddy-police to the fug house rather than being allowed to continue his journey between Kings Cross and York, which is where I encountered him six months ago.*

3. Inequality. Never mind the disputed existence of a glass ceiling in the UK’s wage structure or of gender disparity and ageism in broadcasting, the definitive and most obvious form of sexual inequality in the UK today is apparent in public flatulence. After all, if a man strikes-up an impromptu butt-trombone solo in public it’s seen as ill-mannered, though somewhat comical and not entirely unacceptable. If women break wind in public, however (even pregnant ones, for whom bowel control is more difficult than anyone) it is not seen as remotely acceptable. When a woman lets rip in a public place, monocles pop out of gentlemens’ faces, other ladies gasp and faint, children gape open-mouthed (unwisely) and point: “That lady blew off!” they gasp in astonishment as their parents simultaneously attempt to hush them and shuffle them away from the foul and wretched harridan with the trumping problem. If we ban farting in public, we’ll all have to hold it in and we’ll put an end to this heinous and iniquitous societal inconsistency.

4. Male Grooming. The overall appearance of the British male will be greatly improved as a result of the ban on flatulence. After all, when forced to hold it in while in public environs, he will have to resort – like his countrywomen – to more frequent visits to the bathroom to relax and unwind**. He won’t team up with someone else to visit the bathroom because that’s just weird. But he will see mirrors that much more often and will consequently adjust his hair more, notice dry patches, take note of errant eyebrows and, as he’ll be exposed to more bathrooms than before, he’ll see how the colour of his clothing works in conjunction with a wider variety of hues. The nation will smell better and look better.

5. Control. It’s not just that the entire population of Britain will have to control themselves better (sort of a rectal version of the stiff upper lip that made Britain great), we’ll lessen the occurrence of truly abhorrent instances brought about by a disastrous happenstance involving flatulence and intoxication. Because I was in a busy – and quite respectable – pub once with a group of friends when a man at the next table, who had been imbibing copiously and was now somewhat inebriated, misjudged his attempt at a flatulent emission. Within half a minute or so it became apparent to the entire pub (except, bizarrely, the man himself and the people at his table) what had occurred and, within a minute many people (including myself) were dry-heaving and within two, most of us were on our way to another pub, tears streaming from our eyes. If flatulence were illegal, this sort of thing wouldn’t happen. That was eight years ago, and I haven’t been back to that pub since. This means that premises that clearly enforce the ban will benefit too, so it’ll further benefit the economy by rewarding well-run businesses.

6. Television. Britain and its society was built on snobbery and the class divide and, with this in mind, the ban on flatulence will be a perfect addition to the nation’s laws. Now, having seemingly exhausted the Drunken UK Seaside Towns Shellsuited Fighting genre, ITVs 4,5,6,7,8 and 9 and Sky: Whatever will be able to unleash a new wave of prurient “reality” programmes focussing on what common people get up to while the rest of us are safely at home cleaning our Agas and polishing our brogues. We won’t have to watch grainy CCTV footage of men in short sleeved shirts and shoes that resemble Cornish pasties – or orange women wearing earrings larger than their frocks – fighting at 3am in Blackpool on our televisions any more. We’ll be able to watch them farting. This will reinvigorate a whole tired television genre while retaining its appeal to our own innate snobbery, so the ban will have the effect of enriching the cultural life of the nation while dovetailing perfectly with the national characteristic of sneering at the hoi-polloi.

7. Anarchy. Another of the cornerstones of the British character is that we’re taught that laws are for the obeyance of fools and the guidance of wise men. It’s in our heritage to subvert authority and express our individualism by flagrantly flouting the law. So some people will rail against state oppression by freely indulging their bodily urges as a means of protest. These anarchists will fart for freedom; they’ll be freedom farters, gallantly and nobly resisting government by liberally cutting the cheese whenever the fancy takes them. We might not all approve of their actions, but it’ll be a hell of a lot safer than petrol-bombing buildings or throwing bricks at police-horses. And the “Fart For Freedom” posters will be hilarious. In fact, this movement will probably be called the FFF and will doubtless become noted for being insubstantial and puffed up with hot air.*** But don’t worry, they’ll be quite harmless.

*I NEVER forget.

**I can’t begin to tell you how proud I am of that.

***FFF

February 8, 2011
7 Reasons That Postcards Should Be More Honest

Postcards. They’re not honest enough. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Blackpool. This is what a holiday in Blackpool actually looks like. I’ve been there. Many times. Other postcards may not show this, but forewarned is forearmed.

2. Bondi Beach. Sending a postcard from Australia, where it’s nice and warm and sunny you’re having a good time is ostentatious and likely to cause the recipient a pang of envy. Negate the envy by showing the reality. That you’re being eaten by a shark. Or a crocodile. Or a spider.

3. Welwyn Garden City. If the postcard isn’t honest, the recipient might get a false impression of a destination and may choose to visit it themselves. This would be a mistake.

4. Slough! You don’t want to get people’s hopes up about what they can expect as a present. Unless you show the iconic local product on your postcard, they might expect all sorts of exotica: A sombrero; a stuffed donkey; a bottle of wine in a wicker basket; an owl. You need to let them know that they aren’t getting any of these things.

5. The Natural History Museum. Or, you can subvert an entire genre of postcards and send this. That should make the recipient nervous until your return.

6. Yorkshire. You don’t want the recipient to feel as if they’re missing out on lots of sunshine, warmth and an exotic climate. Let them know what the weather’s really like where you are.

7. Candour. Ever wondered why the sender always returns from holiday before the postcard? Well wonder no more. It’s because they don’t care enough about you.

November 17, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons I Prefer Blackpool To Cardiff

It’s Saturday, so the 7 Reasons team are off doing Saturday things somewhere – probably in the shops or the pub – but don’t panic: Taking the helm of the 7 Reasons sofa today is Derek J. Gafney, the Middlesbrough-based-writer, of Gaffer’s Sports Blog fame. When he’s not watching sport, thinking about sport, or writing about sport he can be found here, tweeting about sport or here…er…tweeting about sport. Thanks Gaffers!

As the Championship play-off concluded on Saturday gone and the seaside town of Blackpool began to celebrate promotion to the Premier League, I realised I have several reasons to agree with them achieving this success.

In fact I have SEVEN reasons, which back up my originally just wanting ‘The Tangerines’ to win the play-off final against Cardiff City, the original reason being simply the romance of such an achievement.

Now I could back it up with my seven reasons, so here goes…

1. Orange. Unlike a certain Graham Taylor, I do like orange, it is a colour which is synonymous with the game of football and a welcome addition to the top flight of English football.

The great Dutch team of the 1970′s, the amazing skills of the Blackpool side containing Sir Stanley Matthews in the 1950′s, the infamous and well missed orange footballs when the snow had laid on a winters game.

This is a true football colour and the Seasiders’ faithful will brighten up many a dull away ground in the coming season.

2. Memories. Oh the memories, I have only been to Blackpool once, it’s a fair trek from Middlesbrough you know!! But I had a cracking weekend, admittedly this was more so due to the fact I was 17 and every pub served us without hesitation.

But fond memories all the same. The town appears to have deteriorated over the past decade and the input of the Premier League wealth will hopefully aid in returning the place to its former glories.

If you’ve never been and you go based on this guest post, I am in no-way responsible for what happens to you in Blackpool, hope that covers me, should do, shouldn’t it?

3. Ian Holloway (pictured below). A genuine football man, a genuinely likeable man and a genuine family man. If you don’t like Olly (Ian Holloway’s nickname) then personally there has to be something wrong with you, or he owes you money, or something along those lines.

The type of person, genuine (used it four times now) football fans want to see do well in the professional game. A combative midfielder in his day playing almost 600 career club games and a hard-working manager to boot.

He will light up the dull, monotonous Premier League, adding character, honesty and the occasional quote of pure comedic genius!!

4. Day at the seaside. We all love a day out at the seaside, its part of the culture of these fair isles. The temperatures hit the high teens and we pack up the family and the car and head to the coast. Now you can take in a top flight football game as part of the experience. Nana will love it!!

Seriously, it will mean so much to the local economy, with away fans using it as an excuse to head to the seaside for a weekend and spend much-needed money in reviving the local economy and the pubs and clubs too.

I recommend you visit, though yet again I am not liable for this recommendation. Phew!!!

5. EN-GER-LUND. It is as simple as that, if we aren’t going to allow the Scottish into our leagues then surely it’s best to keep the Welsh out too. All jokes aside, I’m serious about this as we have the Welsh in already, then surely we can’t be arguing against St. Mirren or Cork City wanting in too.

Can we? Keep out all of you, create your own leagues, oh no you’ve already done that, well Cardiff, go play in that league or else!! (I rescind this comment as I think those Cardiff boys like a fight, see reason seven for more)

6. Chopra, Ridsdale, Hamann (pictured below) et al. I have no reason whatsoever to have any form of hatred towards anyone person associated with Blackpool and their football club, yet Cardiff City seem to want to offer me plenty of reasons to want to see them fail at the final hurdle and laugh out loud.

Michael Chopra, Peter Ridsdale, Sam Hamann, Steven Gerrard’s cousin and well as you can see the list goes on and on and on!!

You know I’m right on these points and the list could go on, nothing personal, no actually it is personal!!

7. Zero Tolerance. As we enter a crucial period in our bid to host the 2018 World Cup we need to have a zero tolerance approach prior to the bid result in December of this year.

I don’t want to seem stereotypical, but Cardiff fans along with several others have a reputation for enjoying a fight or two with opposing fans, whether it’s based on the Welsh versus the English or it’s just a general theme, I must admit I am not sure.

But, having heard, read and witnessed their fans at first hand, I am pleased they will not be able to take the spotlight and potentially spoil our hosting bid, though let’s be fair, we are more than capable of spoiling our bid ourselves and don’t need any help thank you very muchly!!

Blackpool deserve their moment in the big time and my reasons are purely comedic and light-hearted in their approach. Good luck to the Tangerines when they begin their life in the Premier League.

I truly hope they survive more than one season and, who knows, it maybe Cardiff joining them in 2011/2012. Personally, as long as Middlesbrough are promoted I don’t honestly care.

Cheers.

Gaffers

May 29, 2010
7 Reasons not to Dance

1. Marital Disharmony. In the Edwardian era, dancing was a gentle affair and the worst thing that could happen while dancing with your wife was that you might tread on her foot. This may have led to some resentment, but nothing that would distract a man from guzzling brandy and smoking cigars in his library or waxing his moustache in the bathroom. Modern dancing, however, is less well structured and far more vigorous. These days, when dancing after a sherry or two, it’s all too easy to inadvertently stumble and face-plant your partner onto the dance-floor. This can lead to months of tutting, silences and chores that urgently need doing on a Saturday afternoon.

2. Deviance. George Bernard Shaw said that dancing is the “…vertical expression of a horizontal desire.” This is a fair statement. Salsa dancing and the Tango, for example, have a degree of eroticism that would seem to indicate carnal intent. What though, should we make of Riverdance? What could the stiff, immobile arms and motionless head, neck and upper torso in combination with the preposterous, maniacally-flailing leg movements of Riverdancers indicate that they want to do in the bedroom? Whatever it is, I don’t want any part of it, and I don’t want to hear it through the wall either.

3. Death. Ah, the Tango; that moody dance from Argentina; so sensual, so visually arresting and so beloved of film-makers. If you meet a lusty, long-limbed, raven-haired, wild-eyed beauty, under no circumstance should you dance the Tango with him/her because, as we have learned from Hollywood movies, you will die. It’s one of the rules of cinema that if you dance the Tango in a film you will be stabbed or shot by your partner’s jealous lover/former lover, usually in an alley outside a Buenos Aires dance hall.

4. Geography. This is a map of where your feet need to be when dancing. If you don’t understand this diagram (and I think that’s all of us) you shouldn’t be dancing. Who knows what could happen or where you might end up? If you do understand this diagram then your chances of meeting a dance partner are negligible, by the way.

5. Strictly No Dancing. Ballroom dancing is a great reason not to dance. If you have no desire to paint yourself orange and dress in tight, sequinned, garishly-hued, puff-sleeved creations (the ladies outfits are even more preposterous) and twirl around with your teeth clenched then you should avoid ballroom dancing at all costs. Not ballroom dancing also minimises your risk of having to go to Blackpool.

6. Boycott. One of my local bars has a sign that says “Do not take lasses onto the dance floor”. There’s no way you should go and dance without taking your lass, so we boycott dancing at this venue.

7. Weddings. If there is an occasion that you shouldn’t dance at it’s a wedding. If you do anything freakish or memorable on the dance floor in front of the friends and family that you rarely see, you will forever be defined by it, as witnessing whatever it was that you did on the dance floor will be your extended family’s shared experience of you. They will bring it up at every social occasion you attend from that moment on, and if you don’t believe me, ask Sweaty Uncle Richard.

December 5, 2009