Tag: blog

7 Reasons Not To Have A Contact Form On Your Website

Okay, up above these words in the menu bar, there’s a page called Contact Us, and we’re beginning to believe that it’s more trouble than it’s worth. In fact, we’re beginning to think we should get rid of it altogether, and we’re coming round to the view that everyone else should too. Now we’re not self-appointed web experts or internet gurus; we’re humourists. If you have a website yourself, we can only advise you to free yourself from the tyranny of the contact form based on our own experience. And, from our experience of having one of the damned things, here are seven reasons to get rid of it.

1. You’ll Have A More Manageable Penis. One of the most frequent things that people use the contact form for is to attempt to sell us penis enlargement pills. And by frequent, I mean we get a lot of penis enlargement offers. In fact, if we don’t visit our inbox for a while it ends up chock-full of enlarged penises. We aren’t really interested in any of these offers (I have a child now, so I probably won’t even need mine for the next eighteen years or so), but it’s a lot of stuff to wade through and ignore. Well, I say ignore, I’m assuming that my writing partner Jon’s ignoring them too. Perhaps he isn’t, though. Perhaps Jon’s buying penis enlargement pills from everyone that’s offering them. It could be that since we’ve been running 7 Reasons, Jon has purchased so many of these pills that his penis has become a major Kent landmark. Maybe ruddy-faced locals in smocks are staring at his chemically-enhanced appendage right now and pointing up at it with awe. Perhaps it’s on Google Earth. Who knows? One thing’s for sure, it’ll be a major hazard to air travellers as the other thing we get offered almost every day is Viagra.

2. You’ll Get To Read Less Gibberish. When the contact form isn’t trying to enlarge our penises, it sends other stuff too. It sends gibberish. Most things containing the subject heading “7 Reasons Contact Form” look like someone just pressed many keys at once. Frequently, we get the message that “sdkjfkl;sdfjsjsdk;” wrote “sjklsdhfkjsdhfjksdfhsjdfhjlksfsdhthurthw”. This is not helpful. In fact, it’s quite scary that “mgklksfdlgjkhg” writes “mxvnbcxn,bvcxb,mvxc” and “hytfhtyhtfyh” writes “vbnmbmnmbnm” on such a regular basis. Our contact page is fairly dull, but it’s not soporific enough to make this many people doze off on their keyboards while they’re reading it. So perhaps this is just the law of averages. Perhaps one person a day actually falls down dead while looking at our contact form. They’re probably dying when they’re reading other posts too, it’s just that we won’t get to know about that. 7 Reasons could be killing them in their droves: We might be the greatest practitioners of genocide since Pol Pot*. Either that, or – I don’t know – but we only get stuff like this from the contact form, not via email or our comments section.

3. Your Life Will Contain Less Mystery. This morning, via the contact form, we received this question: “When does it start airing?” That’s it. That’s the entire message. But what does it even mean? When does what start airing? Is this an enquiry about my laundry? Is this an enquiry about Jon’s penis? 7 Reasons: The Panel Show? Who knows? Certainly not me, and I don’t want to wake up to a mystery of a morning; I’m not Quincy. I just want to wake up to find that it isn’t raining and that there are coffee beans in the house. I would be able to do that if it weren’t for the contact form.

4. Your Messages Will Go To The Right Person. Above our contact form we clearly direct people that wish to write for us to a different page containing a dedicated email address for guest post submissions. This is a (vain) attempt to try to limit the number of identical submissions we receive about car insurance (purportedly all from different people) and to get them sent directly to Jon – who’s in charge of guest post submissions – rather than to me. He’s more patient than I am. He’s calmer than I am. On receiving his ninth identical offer of a car insurance post in a day, Jon’s veins bulge, he turns red, he emits a sound that is part scream, part bellow and part mating call of a rhinoceros and begins to punch the nearest table or wall. I, on the other hand, don’t take receiving them nearly as well. So there’s no likelihood of these things getting used and we just end up getting rather worked up when we receive them. Well, I do.

5. You’ll Feel Better About Yourself. This is from the contact form:

***** wrote:

Hi

My name is *****.

I would like to ask you if its possible to buy the picture of the lemons in a

high resolution (300ppi 160mm x 200 mm).

And if you have it form a other place can you tell me where?

Greetings *****

This refers to a picture of lemons that – in the same way that approximately 99.99999999% of websites source their pictures – we got from Google Images. There’s no way of replying to this person (that amazingly managed to give us their own name three times during the course of a tiny message) without sounding sarcastic. “Dear *****, we did get it from another place. It is available here. Yours sincerely, the 7 Reasons team” would make us look rather mean.

We’ve also received this:

Do you stock a Thermos type water jug to use on invalids bedside, I can’t find one in cataloues.

That’s just heart-breaking. Could we, in all conscience, send a reply saying “sorry, as a humour website we carry no stock of thermal water jugs, could we tempt you with a mildly Francophobic t-shirt?” No. Of course not. So we either have to spend our time researching random queries from confused people or feel really bad about ourselves.

6. You’ll Hear Less About The Colour Of Hats. The other thing we frequently receive via the cursed contact form are offers of help. Technical help. Traffic driving help. Messages that variously offer to help us “engage strategic initiatives”, “harness value-added solutions”, “integrate visionary partnerships” and “orchestrate bricks-and-clicks infomediaries”. A recent message discoursed for so long about white hat SEO, black hat SEO and grey hat SEO that I almost lost the will to live and – had I been viewing the contact form – I would have been in danger of sending myself a gibberish message with my face. As it was, I began to think about purchasing a hat. What I wasn’t thinking about was taking anyone up on their kind offer to improve our website with their baffling and incomprehensible gobbledygook.

7. You’ll Receive A Better Standard Of Correspondence. Groucho Marx brilliantly and wittily advocated exclusivity when he famously said, “I wouldn’t want to belong to any club that would have me as a member”, and this can be applied to the Contact Form too. Because the contact form makes us too accessible. It’s too easy to get in touch with us. If it were more difficult to get hold of us, then we’d get a better class of correspondence, because the act of having to do a tiny bit of research to find our contact details and paste them into an email program could well cut out the spammers and raise standards. Perhaps the extra time and effort that this will take will cause people to reflect on whether they really need to contact us at all.

It boils down to this: If you have a contact form, it’s a magnet for spam in all its forms: penis-related-spam; gibberish-spam; spam that consists of bizarre utterances from the mad; spam that shouldn’t even be going to you; spam that is just flabbergasting or heartrending in its naivety; spam about hats. The one thing we rarely receive from the contact us form is any sort of meaningful correspondence. That all comes via email or Twitter. We’re going to be brave; we’re going to be bold: We’ve looked at the correspondence we receive via our contact form, and we’re going to disable it. And if you have a website that has one, we recommend you go back through your inbox and have a look at how much worthwhile correspondence you’ve received through it. We’re guessing it’s not as much as you think.

*The level of interest in our latest competition bears this out.

July 18, 2011
Russian Roulette Sunday: It’s Cake!
Hello 7 Reasons readers! It’s Marc here and today, dear readers, we would like you to make a cake. This cake.

It’s Oxfam’s Easy Lime and Ginger Cheesecake, the recipe for which comes from my local Oxfam Bookshop’s brilliant blog . The recipe calls for the use of Fairtrade Stem Ginger Cookies and, when you go to your nearest Oxfam shop to buy them, you’ll be giving money to a worthwhile cause. That’s right readers, by making and eating an ethically sourced cheesecake (unless you buy mascarpone sourced from warmongering cheesemongers) you’ll be helping a good cause in an ethical way. In fact, if we can all make and eat enough cheesecake, we can probably save the world, and I’ll be trying very hard. Here’s the achingly simple recipe as published by Oxfam Books, Petergate York:

Easy Lime and Ginger Cheesecake
- Serves 4
- Prep time: 15 min
- Chilling time: 30 min
- Basically, in 45 minutes you’re in business.
Ingredients
- 200g pack of Fairtrade stem ginger cookies, crushed
- 50g butter, melted
- 500g mascarpone cheese (they usually come in 250g tubs, so get two of these)
- 40g icing sugar, sifted
- Finely grated zest and juice of two limes
Method

1. Mix together the crushed biscuits and melted butter (I also like to add a bit of sugar to my cheesecake bases to make them a bit jazzier) and press into the bottom of an 18cm (7inch) spring-sided or loose-bottomed cake tin.

2. Place the mascarpone cheese, icing sugar, lime zest and juice in a bowl and beat together. Spread this mixture over the biscuit base.

3. Put it in the fridge and chill for 30 min! That’s really it.

That’s the entire recipe. It’s basically spreading cheese on biscuits and it’s so simple that absolutelyanyone should be able to make it. And now we’re going to demonstrate that even people with no food preparation skills, knowledge or aptitude can follow this recipe. I’m going to hand you over to my writing partner: A man whose culinary education began and ended with learning how to boil water for tea: A man who – before he moved to Kent – was known as The Fulham Poisoner: A man whose litany of culinary disasters includes failing at defrosting a chicken and the hospitalisation of a flatmate*. He’s going to make a cheesecake himself and feed it to his fiancé Claire – a renowned and accomplished maker of cakes – who will judge it on appearance, texture and taste (should she survive). Here’s Jon.

“It was only when I was standing in the queue that I realised I had been well and truly duped. The idea of making a cheesecake and then eating it had originally sounded like a good idea, which is why I had agreed. Marc had, after all, said all it required was a spare half hour. In my book, that’s a fair exchange for cake. But as I stood there I realised it had already been twenty-five since I had left home and I hadn’t even purchased the ingredients. There was no way I could make a cheesecake in five minutes. Not there. And then I got to the till. Which is when I realised this idea was also going to cost me money. Just short of £5 in fact. That’s a lot to spend just to have something to write about. I couldn’t help but think if I had managed the past year and a half writing without having to pay for the privilege, why did this have to change? I trudged home.

Having spread the ingredients in front of me and read the recipe, I realised this was the exact same cheesecake that Claire makes. And she makes it very well. Brilliant. So I’ve had to walk all the way the shops, spend the best part of a fiver on ingredients and now I am challenging my future wife by making one of her specialities. Perturbed, I carried on. Twenty minutes later I was left staring at the following creation:

Making it was something of a doddle. What was not a doddle was the washing up. I don’t know how often you zest a lime, but cleaning the zesting part of the grater is quite possibly a harder job than watching England play cricket. Still, an hour later I was done. I also had lime poisoning from licking the bowl.

The next part of this project – and that is very much what it had become – was to get Claire to profer her opinion. These are the results of the Claire survey.

On Appearance: “That looks nice.”

On Texture: “It’s nice.”

On Taste: “That was very nice”.

So there we have it. I make nice cheesecakes. I am sure your Sunday just got a whole lot better with that news.”

*Which he denies.**

**Falsely.

***As Oxfam Books, Petergate York would (and actually did) tell you themselves, remember the whole point of this recipe is that it is a Fairtrade recipe. So help the global community during this Fairtrade Fortnight (and after) by buying Fairtrade goods as much as you can.
March 6, 2011
Russian Roulette Sunday: Blimey! It’s The Future. Now.
Last week, 7 Reasons took a step backward. We went back in time to the antediluvian age of print when our words – if not our names – appeared in Esquire magazine. How can we top that, we wondered. The present will just seem humdrum now. So we decided to ignore the present and plan for the future.

In historical envisaging of the future, it’s all hoverboards, cars that fly and spangly jumpsuits. But it’s fast becoming clear that the true instrument of the future will be the Kindle. That’s how things will be read in years to come. We determined that the way forward for 7 Reasons was to embrace the Kindle and prepare for it. Well, Jon thought that we should wear spangly jumpsuits and LED watches, but fortunately he lost the coin-toss.

So we’ve got together with the people at Amazon and we’ve made it happen. From today, we have a new thing:

That’s right Kindlers, 7 Reasons is now available on your Kindles. So when you’re out there Kindling in your futuristic world of the future, you need never miss a single 7 Reasons post. They’ll just appear on your Kindle via the combined mediums of witchcraft, space-age jiggery-pokery and the wireless internet. You can subscribe to 7 Reasons : Kindle Edition here; you can even have a free 14 day trial. For the rest of us backward peasants there’ll still be the old-fashioned website but you, Kindlers, the beautiful people of the future, will be experiencing 7 Reasons in many amazing ways.

Things the beautiful-future-people will be able to do with their Kindles:
- Read 7 Reasons in direct sunlight.
- Read 7 Reasons for hours and hours without straining their eyes.
- Spot 7 Reasons spelling-mistakes with their built-in dictionary (but not as a drinking game, a post by Jon could prove fatal).
- Be better than the rest of us.
- Think of a witty and brilliant fifth thing.
Things that the rest of us will be able to do without Kindles:
- Stand in mud.
- Eat a raw turnip.
- Point at the beautiful-future-people.
- Lick a fetid dog.
- Wail with despair and cry until our souls hurt.
So, that’s the future: Available now. 7 Reasons will return tomorrow in many forms. Like the Devil.
January 16, 2011
Russian Roulette Sunday: The 7 Reasons Leaks

*

It’s almost as if every other day of the week leads up to this. Sunday! But enough of that, let’s get to business, you have wrapping to do. The second most important thing this week concerns the ongoing Wikileaks shebang. Here at 7 Reasons we are nervous about it. Many emails are exchanged between us. Dozens a week. Some even make sense. They are our life-blood. Amongst our messages of affection and frustration lie bits of creative genius and ideas that spark beauty. Of these we are proud and smug. But there are also moments when one of us embarrasses ourselves. Or one of us says something that could come back to bite us in the undergarment area. These messages have been hidden deep in the 7 Reason vault. Never to be seen by anyone outside of our cult. But what happens if we’ve missed something? What happens if Marc has left the code showing on the padlock? What if Jon has put the wrong box in the vault? The unseen 7 Reasons files could be in the shed! What happens if Wikileaks has sent someone round to the shed? We are going to be exposed! And we don’t like being exposed. Especially the York based half of us. The only way we can counteract any embarrassment Wikileaks could cause ourselves, our family and our friends is a show of the utmost alpha-male. We are going to share the embarrassing bits of 7 Reasons with you ourselves. Now. Ha! Take that Wikileaks!

This isn’t an actual conversation that took place of course. Just some of the things we said in a variety of messages. We don’t want you thinking we are wierd or anything. Because we’re not. Not one of us. Zilch.

Jon: I’m a prick. Not a massive one, but enough of one. The good news is, I have remembered how to use it.

Marc: Do you need a tissue?

Jon: I am surpsied you have to ask.

Marc: Hang on. I just sat on a lemon. I’ll be back in ten minutes.

Jon: I just sat on a cat. I’ll be back when I’ve won my case.

Marc: You can never win. I just gave my wife a Hitler salute. She headbutted me in pelvis. It’s unfair when she uses the ladder.

Jon: I have always thought Steps were vastly underrated. Especially the short one.

Marc: It would be silly to keep talking about it. We know he’s a cock.

Jon: Fair enough, we shall wash our hands of it.

Marc: Will do. I’m going for a bath.

Jon: This is a potentially dangerous situation. I live near someone who uses Lidl.

Marc: I’m not sure that’s the issue.

Jon: We’ll blame the French.

Marc: I’m glad we thought it was a good idea. Shame no one else did.

Jon: We’ll probably reep the rewards in the months to come.

Marc: That’s the SEO working. I have done lots of work on the back-end.

Jon: Does your wife know?

Marc: I woke her up celebrating. She looked angry.

Jon: I think that’s more unlucky than anything. We know we what we are trying to do and, for the most part, we are doing it.

Marc: I completely agree with everything you’ve said. Do we have any ideas for Sunday?

Jon: I’m going for a run.

Marc: I always meet a cow.

Jon: That’s one more we can add to the 7 Reasons posse.

Marc: It’s very annoying when you do that, especially given the countless hours of hard work I have put in. Stop it!

Jon: I’ll do it this weekend then.

Marc: I’ll be in a field drinking beer and shan’t have access to the internet.

Jon: Well done.

Marc: Thanks.

So there you have it. Straight from us. Wikileaks can never make us look stupid and you undoubtedly have newfound respect for us. For this we thank you.

*Marc: This isn’t a leak.**

**Jon: What is it then?***

***Marc: It’s a leek.****

****Jon: You say potato, I say tomato. Same thing.*****

*****Marc: No they’re not.******

******Jon: Not the same as a leak, no.*******

*******Marc: It’s leek!********

********Jon: You say potato, I say…*********

*********Marc: **** **** ******* ****!!!**********

**********Jon: If you put a mirror on the left side of the asterisks, you get a Christmas tree.***********

***********Marc: Wow. That’s pretty.************

************Jon: I love you.*************

*************Jon: Marc?

December 12, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: Badges

A long, long time ago, way back in the mists of 7 Reasons(.org) history, Jon promised that there would be badges for guest posters, and Marc rolled his eyes and said, “SHH! You’ll bankrupt us before we’ve even started.” But now, many months – possibly even a whole year later – we have an announcement to make about badges for guest posters.

We’ve never forgotten the promised badges, and just recently we took another look into the 7 Reasons coffers (once we’d located them in a dusty ante-room) to see if badges were now feasible. As we expectantly lifted the heavy wooden lid of our treasure chest it creaked with reassuring portent and, with the light of our torches to guide us, we peered into the interior of the dark, gloomy box.

To say that we were amazed by what we found there would be an understatement. After we had emptied the contents of the chest into a pile on the floor and methodically totalled it up, we were staggered.

So now, we can announce that the 7 Reasons Badge Fund stands at…(drum-roll)…(go on, just bang on the desk, no one will think you’re mad)…half a dead spider, a creased Post-it® note, the crumbs from several ginger nut biscuits, twelve business cards, a mug with a broken handle and a lemon. Plus some blue stuff that neither of us wanted to touch.

But necessity is the mother of invention and we’re nothing if not creative here so we’ve made badges anyway. For free. In Photoshop. So if you write (or have written) for us, you can now have a 7 Reasons Guest Writer badge simply by sending us a photograph of yourself. And we’ll send it back with your badge on it.

Not only will this help us achieve our goal of not running 7 Reasons at a loss one day, it’s also far more environmentally friendly than an actual, physical badge, which benefits the whole world. So the virtual badge is something worthy, it’s a force for good. It’s actually saving penguins.

A guest poster has already taken us up on our virtual badge offer (in fact, it’s what convinced him to write for us in the first place). Here is Sir Andrew Straussy jubilantly wearing his:

And here’s an owl wearing his (because one day, we hope to convince an owl to write for us (and the virtual badge is less cruel than an actual one)).

We also sent (to the lady herself) a picture of Jennifer Aniston wearing a badge and we received this in return.

So this probably means that marriage is still out of the question.

Anyway, the point of all of these badge-related-shenanigans is to mention that we’re currently looking for more guest posts. So, if you’ve never written for us, or if you have; if you have an idea, or even half an idea (because that’s how we work most of the time), then please get in touch.

We have always felt genuinely honoured and flattered that brilliant people, who write to such a high standard, have submitted pieces for us to use, and we hope that – one day – we will be able to reward their endeavours with something more tangible than our thanks, our admiration and our love (which, to be honest may put people off). Perhaps in the form of a badge, perhaps in the form of money, perhaps we will build a shrine, who knows? Anyway, however we decide to reward guest posters when we are dripping with the riches of Croseous, the fact remains that we aren’t right now, but we do feel genuinely humble – and honoured – that people read us regularly and that people allow us to use their work.

Anyway, if you fancy earning yourself some thanks, some publicity and a virtual badge then email [email protected]. We don’t promise to use everything that’s sent to us (because, well, we might not like it, and if we didn’t have standards, then we wouldn’t feel proud of our own website ). We will always consider it, however, and are happy to offer guidance or advice, where solicited.

Here’s a brief guide to writing a post for us. Thanks,

Marc and Jon.

December 5, 2010
7 Reasons That Writer’s Block is Frustrating

Whether you’re a blogger, a journalist, a novelist, a playwright or a poet, writer’s block can be both debilitating and frustrating. Here are seven reasons why.

Yes, It's Microsoft Word 1897!

1. Because You Call Yourself A Writer. I sometimes call myself a writer. Mostly because that’s what I do. I write. Every day. I didn’t start doing it regularly until my thirties, but I’ve studied literature my whole life, from pre-school to university. And I feel comfortable when I refer to myself as a writer; because I do it all the time and, I like to imagine, quite well. I don’t make my living from writing: I’ve never even been paid for writing; in fact – owing to the vagaries of the publishing system – I’ve been offered more money not to write than I have to write. Yes, actual soft cash (made of paper, so better than hard cash), and I turned it down. Because I’m an idiot. And I would have had to have called myself a not-writer. A professional not-writer. And that’s not who I am. But you can only call yourself a writer if you actually write something.

2. Because It’s Hard To Explain. It’s hard to explain not being able to write to non-writers, because – to them – it’s a natural state. How would you explain the absence of writing to someone that isn’t a practitioner of the art? I’ll have a stab at it: Imagine that you’re reading a blank page. But that page is important. In fact, the words on that page are fundamental to your very life, soul, being, self-image and existence. But you can’t see them. And you need them. They’re vital. Oh, and you’re naked. Well that’s pretty much what it’s like. But much worse. Because your foot hurts and it’s cold where you are.

3. Because You Can Think Of Things To Write, They’re Just Not Appropriate. I could, right at this moment, fashion a discourse highlighting the influence of John Mayall on the British blues movement or analyse Romania’s under-reported role in the holocaust. But I’m not writing a piece on the development of British music, or on World War II, I’m writing for a humour site. Which is a shame as there’s very little else in my head except for: “There’s nothing in your head you silly man”, “My foot hurts” and “Oooh, I quite fancy a sandwich”; yet eating the sandwich won’t help you because…well…it’s eating a sandwich, which is different to writing (it’s more Marmitey and less like Tolstoy) and your audience probably won’t appreciate a piece entitled 7 Reasons I Stopped Staring Blankly at a Screen and had a Sandwich Instead as it would be at least six reasons light and it would probably make them hungry. Well, half of them, the other half probably don’t like Marmite.

4. Because You Have A Deadline. Yes, there’s always a deadline that you need to hit. And, when I was staring at my blank screen it was imminent. After all, I have other things to do in addition to writing. I’m a man, I need simple things; that sandwich, sleep, words to magically appear on my screen (or in my head, I’m not lazy, I’ll happily type them out), but mostly sleep. Because I’ve been busy all day and I’m tired. But I need to write these words, so with bloodshot eyes I continue to stare at the screen, because inspiration will strike if I stare at it for long enough, surely?

5. Because Of Modern Technology. And I’m staring at the blank screen on a computer. That’s right, a computer. A machine connected to the world that contains many, many distractions. So when you find yourself failing to write words on a screen, you’ll soon find yourself watching people falling off bicycles on Youtube. And shortly, you’ll find yourself on Twitter. Not tweeting about WWII or John Mayall, but about other topical and funny stuff. And you’re actually being funny on Twitter. In the written word! But not in any way that inspires your next day’s piece, and that doesn’t help matters; in fact, it’s bloody frustrating, as the irony of the situation won’t escape you. You will briefly toy with the idea of tweeting tomorrow’s piece, and disregard it. Eventually. But not before you’ve wasted much precious writing time considering it, while sucking on a pencil: A pencil without any lead in it.

6. Because Of Self-Doubt. Why do I write? If you ever found yourself asking that, you would never, ever do it. Because writing defies all logical sense. Why, in the name of all that is holy, in the name of all that is unholy, or in the name of all that isn’t there (I think I’ve covered everyone) would anyone choose to spend their time spewing-forth words from their brains to their fingers to their screens. “I could be doing other things at the moment,” you’ll find yourself thinking. “I could be doing other things that normal people do like watching other people sitting in a “jungle” or watching other people dancing badly or watching other people that can’t sing, sing or”…and suddenly writing makes sense again.

7. Because You’ll Get There In The End. And eventually, you’ll think of something to write about. Because that’s what you do, you’re a writer. Even if you do end up writing about not-writing, even if you end up raw-eyed and sweaty, even if you end up writing with the rapier-like-insight and élan of an addled baboon, there’ll be something. Because however much you think you have nothing to say, however hard you think it is, there will always be something. And that’s when you know that you should write. And that you should have a shower.

November 23, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: How You Found Us: Part 2

Hello! It’s Sunday again and here’s part two in an occasional series that takes you behind the scenes of 7 Reasons. How You Found Us gives you, the reader, a glimpse into something usually only seen by us, the people who know the password, into the ways that this website has been discovered. This time, we’ve split them into categories. Seven categories (it felt weird experimenting with the number ten last week). Enjoy. And try not to have nightmares.

1. Phrases you used to find us that we found flattering:

funny website

VIRILE MEN

good humour

Epic Moustache

I lust you

Extra large penis

lotharios

2. Phrases you used to find us that we found less flattering:

scary man

FAIL

I dont care

funny faced people

KNOB END

you dirty mind

the scariest mask in the world

3. Phrases you used to find us that we’re sorry we couldn’t help with:

cooking frozen sausages

What time is Blue Peter on

where do women urinate from?

what to do with lemons

who is the most beautiful naked woman in the world?

are oranges gay?

how to wear socks

4. Phrases you used to find us that we don’t know anything about and nor do we want to:

horse sex tube

The Pope naked

PIRAHNA PORN

Margaret Thatcher mask

sex with house

Naked Pocahontas

pictures of socks

5. Phrases you used to find us that are just plain wrong:

Sarah Jessica Parker looks like a foot

reasons for Piers Morgan

the queen paints front door

The Daily Mail

6. Phrases you used to find us that there is no earthly explanation for and that we can’t help with:

pin the sperm on the egg

naked hunting

syphilis fruit

dead squirrels

mermaid found in Haiti

7. Phrases you used to find us that there is no earthly explanation for but that we were able to help with:

the network is down (easy one, our website is hosted by Fasthosts)

Ryan Giggs hiding cupboard (we don’t know why a friend of ours googled this but we do know who she is so we made her one).

7 Reasons will return tomorrow. With reasons and stuff.

October 17, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: 7 Reasons You Found Us

Visitors mean a lot to websites. Visitors are their oxygen. We are no different. At 7 Reasons we like to breath. And we’re not doing too badly on that account, thanks for asking. In the past seven days thousands of people have popped by, either because they are regular visitors or because they have typed something into Google and 7 Reasons has appeared in the search results. All are welcome. Well, nearly all. We’d be lying if we said 7 Reasons hadn’t opened our eyes to the amount of weirdoes that own a computer. There aren’t many, but there are enough. 50% of whom really need to be recaptured very soon. So, in the last seven days, here are the most random, mind-boggling and disturbing phrases people have searched for. And if you want to know where they turned up, just click on the link. Oddly, I don’t think it was quite what they were looking for because no one left a comment or used the rating system.

1. “Meeting Arrive Sweat Enter Room Embarrassing Business” – 7 Reasons To Become An Artist

2. “James Martin Chef Nude Picture” – 7 Reasons To Cycle Naked

3. “Australian Open 2010 Spectator Excrement” – 7 Reasons To Hate Pigeons

4. “MP Moustache Deep Diving” – 7 Reasons You Shouldn’t Wear A Tie

5. “Break Wind Sideways Male Female” – 7 Reasons To Be A Bond Villain

6. “Penis White Peeling” – 7 Reasons You Shouldn’t Wear A Tie

7. “How Many Pasty Shops In Bolton?” – Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Love Bolton

We don’t know why people searched for any of these things, but as we feel a duty of care towards all of our readers, here is some advice.

1. Seek medical help.

2. Seek psychiatric help.

3. Seek medical help.

4. Resign from your job at the brothel, madam. There are some things that no one should have to do.

5. Seek medical help.

6. Seek medical help urgently.

7. Just go out and count them Brad.

We take the problems of our readers seriously. If anyone needs any advice, on anything, feel free to ask us using the comments section.

January 24, 2010
7 Reasons The Tiger Woods ‘Story’ Is Annoying Me

1. It’s All In The Name. Half the people commenting on this story don’t even know who Tiger Woods is. I have lost count of the number of times I have seen his name written Tiger Wood or Tiger Wood’s. There are two things that really annoy me in life. Spelling names incorrectly is one of them. How hard can it be? There should be a rule. Only people who can spell properly are allowed to live. (The second thing that annoys me is when people ask, ‘Are the US/Australia/France/Bognor-bloody-Regis ahead or behind us in time?’ It’s simple geography people).

2. The Jokes. They are quite frankly rubbish. They’re obvious, poorly written, usually spelt incorrectly and not funny. Ten minutes after news of his car crash broke, everyone in the world had come up with, ‘What’s the difference between an SUV and a golf ball? Tiger Woods can drive a golf ball!’. So why then are people still posting it? Just shut up the lot of you.

3. Here, There and Everywhere. It’s dominating all media outlets. There are reports in the news, sport and entertainment sections. And they all say the same bloody thing. ‘Tiger Woods may or may not have had sexual relations with cocktail waitresses.’ Firstly, I don’t care. Secondly, it isn’t news. You may as well write, ‘Jonathan Lee may or may not have had sexual relations with a cocktail waitress,’ for all the fact that the statement contains.

4. It’s Not Happening. If the allegations are true, a few people will be outraged. But that’s it. No one is going to make an example out of him. Tiger is too big a star to be dropped by those who sponsor him. Not even Nike. Nike need Tiger more than he needs them. This is the world we live in. I don’t care whether you like it or not. It’s a fact. Nothing is going to change so get over it. Stop wasting your time by drawing up pointless petitions asking Nike to drop him. It. Will. Not. Happen.

5. We are all human. I’ve seen a lot of people say that his transgressions just show Tiger Woods is human. What?! He was a robot before was he? And since when did having an affair become acceptable? If he did have an affair, he’s an idiot. Simple as that. If you think he should be forgiven in an instant, it’s because you have been sleeping around yourself. The fact that Tiger may have done it too, makes you feel just a little bit less guilty. Twat.

6. Tiger Woods’ Downfall. There’s always a bloody Downfall spoof. And it’s always the same bloody clip. Yawn.

7. I’m A Loser. I end up writing about it. Even though I am bored to death of the story, think everyone writing or commenting on it is a muppet and my heart says I shouldn’t join in, I do. The fact is, I know it’s what people want to read about. I know that if I write it this website will get billions of hits. So I have a dilemma. Stick to my moral convictions or put on my business hat. Obviously I have no morals. It makes me sick.

December 4, 2009
Special Guest Post : 7 Reasons Why I Won’t Write A $15 Blog

Sometimes at 7 Reasons(.org), we like to look at what other people are writing, especially when they’re using the same format as we are. We were delighted to find this piece by Carol Tice via Twitter. We were even more delighted when she agreed that we could post in on our website. We just hope you don’t expect writing of this standard every day.

Recently, I had a disturbing week looking for freelance writing gigs. I concentrate on applying for jobs where one of my areas of specialized knowledge is required, because I know there’s lots of lowball pricing for general topics. Surely, they can’t get a student, Third-World resident, or wannabe writer to write about arcane legal areas or variable annuities, so rates there should still be a living wage – or so I thought.

One week, I applied for several legal writing gigs. Two of them got back to me. One paid $20-$40 per 400-600-word article. The other, an agency which claims it has more than 200 law-firm clients, paid $15-$30 a blog. This second guy had called on the phone and was clearly serious about hiring, unlike the many flaky email nibbles I get off resumes I send.

After I informed him that I did not work for remotely those rates and hung up…I thought about it a lot. I wish I had kept him on the phone so I could have asked this recruiter some questions.

Questions like, “Are you serious?” and “Is that even legal?” and “Do you actually find qualified people willing to write legal content at those rates?” and “Don’t you feel ashamed to be offering what will work out to less than the minimum hourly wage (more than $8 here in Washington State) for a very specific writing skill that requires years of experience?”

He let me know his current team was “pretty maxed out” – yeah, I’ll bet. More likely that was code for “It’s really hard to find anyone who can do this work competently at these rates.” To which I say, good.

I thought a lot about this call because for a tiny moment, just an instant really, I considered taking this gig. Legal is easy for me…OK, I’d have to work a LOT of hours to make it into anything like a living…if each blog took an hour, it would take me all day and night to earn something like my normal hourly rate…but this firm has a lot of clients I could connect with. Maybe I should take this and hope to build the account into some better-paying work.

Then I snapped out of it, and wrote this:

7 Reasons Why I Won’t Write A $15 Blog

1. I’d rather quit writing. If that’s all I’m going to make, I’d rather go out on the lawn and play Frisbee with my kids. They’ll only be young once. If I can’t really pay the bills writing, I should pack it in and enjoy life.

2. I won’t be part of the problem. I won’t contribute to the current downward spiral in pay rates by accepting insulting pay. If I accept this kind of work, it reinforces the idea that high-quality content on specialized topics can be obtained from professional writers at one-tenth or less of what was, until recently, market rates. I refuse to be part of the problem.

3. Low paying work begets more low-paying work. Say I worked for this legal content sweatshop, and managed to convince one of their clients to work for me directly. Even if the connection helped me land other clients and I cut out the middleman, I’m doubtful the wages would be appropriate. Any client I got through my association with this low-payer would likely also want to pay me joke wages. Once customers have the impression you’re cheap, it’s hard to convince them that you’re not.

4. I’d rather get a day job. At those rates, I could make more money as an assistant manager at a fast-food place, and work on that novel in my off hours. So if it comes to it, I’ll do something else to pay the bills. My creativity will be fairly compensated, or I’ll earn money another way. I type fast – I have made a living as a secretary in the past, and could again.

5. I want to take a stand. I believe we’re at a turning point in the world of online content that requires taking a moral stand. Thousands of scam operators have flooded into the marketplace, hoping to get writers to write for peanuts and then either resell the work for much more, or sell ads against them and make much more, or sell their whole Web site to someone else and make a killing – all off our backs. What they’re doing is morally wrong. So my basic sense of decency and justice demands that I resist exploitation. Accepting low-pay assignments may pay a few bills in the short term – emphasis on a few – but in the long term it will foster more exploitation. That’s why, for the sake of our vocation’s future, it’s important to refuse.

6. I have good-paying clients. I’ve been afraid to say this out loud for fear of jinxing it – but I still have some very good-paying work. Contrary to what you may have heard, there are still magazines and corporate accounts out there that understand that writers who freelance need to make an appropriate wage, or they’ll soon leave the vocation and be unavailable to create the content clients need to keep growing. Maybe there are fewer of them, but I know they still exist. That knowledge makes it easier to turn down slave-wage gigs.

7. Market forces will raise rates in time. As the economy improves, I believe the pool of good freelancers who can deliver sophisticated, quality content is going to shrink dramatically as many find new jobs. Then rates will naturally be driven back up as it becomes harder to find qualified writing help. I know writers who are already getting jobs in other fields. The fact that Demand Studios recently announced a plan to offer some of its writers health care is a sign that we’ve hit the saturation point. These sweatshops are struggling to attract the talent they need, and that their compensation is going to start to improve.

While professionals from other fields who want to write articles to market their services will always be around, and won’t care how little such articles pay… there aren’t enough pro writers who’ll take these rates to go around. So rates are going to rise.

I believe this is not a new normal – this is a momentary market glitch in our industry that’s taken root due to the downturn. Meanwhile, people are not going to stop reading quality publications, and companies will still need to communicate clearly with their customers in the future. The economy will recover, most content-mill writers will probably get jobs and leave, and rates will rise.

The only way to stop the exploitation is for professional writers to say “no” to insultingly low rates. I’m willing to be the first writer to publicly stand up and do that. Will you join me? If so, sign the petition on my Web site and pledge never to work for less than $50 an assignment. The first step in bringing more power to writers is to organize.

Why $50? That’s what I got paid per article when I first started out in 1999. Rates shouldn’t be lower now, accounting for inflation. So I think that’s a good cutoff.

Who knows? Maybe Lance Armstrong or Amazon.com (have you seen their mill, Amazon Mechanical Turk?) would improve their pay rather than face public embarrassment over their rates.

If we pull together, we could create that public pressure. Maybe the number of clients for these mills could be decreased if we raised public awareness of the situation. That would grow the pool of better-paying markets for freelancers to approach on their own and lessen the profiteering mill owners are currently able to do off writers’ labor.

Want to quit the content mills and learn how to make a good living writing? I mentor a maximum of three writers a month and teach them how to earn more. Also hoping to complete my e-book shortly on this topic, Make a Living Writing — if you’re interested in a copy, email me and I’ll put you on the list to get a notice when it comes out.

Carol Tice is an experienced reporter, copywriter and blogger whose work has appeared in Entrepreneur magazine, the Seattle Times, and many others. Contact her at [email protected] or follow her on Twitter @TiceWrites. You can read the original posting of this article – and some very interesting comments – here, and check out more of her work here.

November 21, 2009