Tag: christmas

7 Reasons Picking Up The “For My Horny Boyfriend” Christmas Card Was A Mistake

There are moments in our lives when we question our actions. For me, such a moment took place a few days ago. I was in a branch of a well-known national card selling establishment perusing the shelves for a suitable Christmas card to buy for my girlfriend. Being ‘in the zone’ I was unaware of my surroundings. And – in particular – the location of the boyfriend section. Being of the heterosexual kind, I prefer my woman to be a woman. And, in something of a triumph, my girlfriend is both. As a result I was not on the look out for a card addressed to a boyfriend. So when I inadvertently picked one up the other day, it was a mistake. A terrible mistake.

This is not the actual card. I was hardly going to take a photo of the actual card was I?

1. Realisation. At first I felt a bit silly, but that feeling subsided very quickly once I realised exactly where I was. In a well known national card selling establishment. I froze. Were people around me? Was I being watched? Had this been captured on CCTV? What if it had? What if people had seen me browsing the girlfriend cards only to then move onto the horny boyfriend section? They’d think I was a slut!

2. Hesitation. Having stood, motionless, for what seemed like an eternity but in reality was probably only a few seconds, I had a another problem. Anyone who had done the same would have realised their mistake and immediately put the card back. But I had paused. A pause that could easily be mistaken for contemplation. A fatal pause. Those people who thought I was a slut, now thought I was a serial adulterer!

3. Frustration. So now what do I do? Do I put the card back quietly and pretend* it was not what I was looking for or do I make a bit of a song and dance about it? Do I say, rather loudly, “Oops! I didn’t want that!”? You know, just so every knows exactly where I stand on the whole horny boyfriend thing. It certainly has it’s merits, but what if I overact it? What if I sound really, really camp? What if I am not believable. Those who thought I was a slut and then changed their minds to a serial adulterer will now think I’m in denial!

4. Contemplation. It must have been a minute now and I am still holding the card. What am I doing? And, hang on a second, why am I reading it? Why am I reading the words, ‘A naughty Christmas poem for my horny boyfriend‘? Why? Why am I doing this? And why am I not stopping? This is a poem for my boyfriend, who is always so horny and whose body… Argh! I must stop! Those who thought I was a slut come serial adulterer come man in denial now must think I am a pervert.

5. Determination. I know now that there are other people around me. I have men to the left of me looking at cards for their girlfriends and I have women to the right of me looking at cards for their boyfriends. I hold my ground on the join. I can’t buckle. I can’t throw my bags on the floor and begin sobbing. Mainly because I don’t have any bags, but also because it’s so bloody cold outside that all the moisture in my eyes has frozen. I’m going to get through this though. I pull the card closer to my chest so no one can see what I have picked up. I am just going to stand here until everyone has gone. Though those that originally thought I was a slut, a serial adulterer, a denialist and a pervert, now just think I am an idiot standing in their way.

6. Innovation. These people aren’t leaving! They just keep looking at other cards. It’s midday now. It’ll be dark soon. I’m going to have to be clever. I am going to have to put the card back without anyone noticing. So I pick up another card – one that is addressed ‘to my girlfriend’ before you ask – and I pretend to be interested in it. It’s bloody hideous so that doesn’t take long. Then, rather cleverly, I put it back with the horny boyfriend card underneath. And no one notices. Until the guy next to me picks the girlfriend card up which of course leaves the horny boyfriend card on display. He looks at me and I look at him. He doesn’t think I’m a slut, an adulterer, a denialist, a pervert or an idiot. He thinks my girlfriend is a boy!

7. Affirmation. This is the point at which I realise I am in an awkward situation so I may as well make the best of it. Half the battle of a 7 Reasons writer, is to find the inspiration. Well here I was. With inspiration staring directly at me. No, not the man. He has moved on. I am staring at the card again. I am living a 7 Reasons post. All I had to do was remember exactly how I felt when I picked the card up in the first place. So I pick it up again and repeat the whole process. Now I don’t care who thinks I’m a slut, an adulterer, a denialist, a pervert, an idiot or a ladyboy fetishist, because I know I am a genius. A rosey-red cheeked genius.

*This is what a Horny Boyfriend card can do to you. You start pretending you don’t want the card that you didn’t want in the first place.

December 16, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons That Christmas ALWAYS Gets Me in the End

It’s Saturday, and the 7 Reasons team have abandoned the sofa in order to rush, blinking out into the sunlight like pit-ponies escaping from their daily labour. But, fear not, for the sofa is in safe hands. Guest hosting this week is the lovely Liz Gregory – that’s right, her of Things to do in Manchester fame – who despite being from Manchester, isn’t going to prattle on about Coronation Street, she’s going to talk about Christmas. Now settle down, children, and she’ll begin.

Every year it’s the same. I roll my eyes at those poor souls who have done all their present shopping by August; I can tut as cynically as anyone at the Christmas songs repeated on an endless, hideous loop in certain shops from the beginning of November. I am a grown woman with a full time job, and the shameless commercial enterprise that is Christmas has no place in my busy and important lifestyle. But by December, I’m hooked, brimming with festive excitement. Again. Here’s why….

1. The weather. Surely even the most hardened and wizened of souls must admit that nothing looks more enticingly festive than a fresh coating of snow, with the power to wipe out an ugly urban landscape of wheelie bins and cat poo, and replace it with pristine perfection. And I say this despite the fact that I am seemingly the only teacher in the UK not to have received a single snow day in the recent bad weather – I have had to go to work and perform the job for which I am paid EVERY SINGLE DAY.

2. Rosy-cheeked children. No, not the bratty whiny ones running amok in the supermarket trying to grab everything in sight – they are the ones to avoid if you’re trying to be misty-eyed and non-cynical about Christmas. I mean the angelic ones who assemble at Christmas lights switch-ons, warbling traditional festive songs and obligingly going “ooohhh” when the lights are turned on.

3. The Christmas Radio Times. I take enormous comfort in the fact that even though we live in a high-tech, culturally diverse society where we celebrate individuality and cutting-edge modernity, at least fifty percent of the UK will have spent the last week leafing through the Christmas Radio Times, armed with a marker pen, drawing wonky circles around the plethora of bad television they wish to watch this Yuletide. The fact that you will only actually watch three of these programmes is entirely besides the point – the pleasure lies in the selection, not the viewing.

4. Alcohol. One of the overwhelming perks of December is that it becomes socially acceptable to consume alcohol at virtually any time of day without anyone raising their eyebrows and calling you an alky. So that means sherry at elevenses is fine, as is bucks fizz at breakfast and Amaretto Sours at lunch. I do not, of course, live like this at other times of the year.

5. Decorations. Yes, Nigella is annoying, but I do admire the fact that her house (or her studio-masquerading-as-house, one is never quite sure) appears to be permanently bedecked with fairy lights. I am not brave enough to try to convince my husband that this is acceptable all year round, which means I must make the most of the carte blanche that Christmas brings. Turn the big light off, switch the fairy lights on, and hey presto! Your house instantly looks clean and tidy in the murky pixie gloom.

6. Food. I am by nature a most abstemious person, unlikely to over-indulge in any way, but the range of tasty morsels positively flung one’s way at this time of year makes it impossible to refuse. As with the alcohol, it is de rigueur to adjust one’s notions of what acceptably constitutes a balanced meal – as long as you select items from both the savoury AND the sweet party food ranges, you should be absolutely fine.

7. Two weeks off. I enjoy my job, and by anyone’s standards, working in a college in the run up to Christmas must surely be as good a place to be as any. Giant tins of Quality Street lurk at every turn, and teaching English means that the final week offers plenty of chances to watch Wuthering Heights and eat popcorn. And yet, the prospect of two weeks off, spent lolling on the sofa, opening the odd present and reverting to a lifestyle where your mum brings you a cup of tea in bed in the morning, is surely something to be cherished.

So, if anyone fancies a mince pie or three in the semi-gloom of my Nigella kitchen I’ll see you shortly; only visitors bearing sherry will be admitted, mind.

December 11, 2010
7 Reasons This Is Not The Perfect Gift For Everyone

With Christmas less than four weeks away now, I last night decided to browse the web for present inspiration. Having examined the merits of both vacuum cleaners and laundry baskets alike, I came across this mug. A mug that Jamie Oliver has got someone to design for him. The spiel accompanying the Foxy Lady mug says, ‘This Is The Perfect Gift For Everyone’. Incorrect. The only thing it is perfect for is a 7 Reasons post. For these people, it most certainly is not perfect.

1. My Mum. I am sure my Mum had her moments in her younger days – and according to ‘friends’ at school during her middle years too – but they are moments I do not wish to know about. My Mum is my Mum. Good at cooking, ironing, forwarding mail and reminding me when it’s my Grandmother’s birthday. In other words, she’s great. Generally when she has performed these tasks well, I say, ‘Thanks Mum’. And that’s where it ends. Never have I found myself uttering the words, ‘Thanks Mum. By the way, you are seriously foxy today.’ I suspect such a statement would be followed by many years of uncomfortable silence. As a result, I shall not be buying my Mum this mug.

2. My Dad. For as long as I can remember, my Dad has been a man. It is never something I have felt the need to question him on – probably because he has a beard. If indeed he had a spell as a Foxy Lady sometime in the mid-1970s – which I suppose is a possibility given that he was in the Navy – well that is entirely his own affair and something that deserves to remain a secret. The last thing we need as a family is for me to embarrass him on Christmas Day by giving him this mug.

3. My Brother. Again, definitely a man. Given his disheveled archaeologist looks, he is highly unlikely to be masquerading as a Lady. And even if he were, it’s nigh on impossible that he’d described as a foxy one.

4. My Grandmother. I don’t need to explain myself. All I will say is that this post gets more wrong the further down the page you read.

5. Yoko Ono. As a bizarre looking woman/prominent anti-hunt protester, a Foxy Lady mug is more patronising than perfect.

6. Megan/Samantha/Edward/Ruel Fox. There are very different reasons why a Foxy Lady mug is not the perfect gift for these four people. But thankfully not enough reasons to convince me to write a whole other post. If I was to give a Foxy Lady mug to either Megan or Samantha Fox I’d have a lot of explaining to do. So I shan’t. Not that I was planning to anyway. And if I was to buy Edward or Ruel Fox a Foxy Lady mug I’d have even more explaining to do. Mainly to myself.

7. Me. Occasionally I do buy myself presents. Last week, for instance, I bought myself a haircut. And very pleased with it I am too. I look much more like the Jonny Wilkinson my girlfriend wants me to look like by the hour. And that has to be a good thing. For both of us. A Foxy Lady mug would just spoil all my hard work. So instead, I am going to spend £10 on a rolling pin so I can keep injuring myself.

November 30, 2010
7 Reasons the Anglo-Franco Defence Agreement is a Good Idea

Yesterday, at 7 Reasons (.org) we ran a post entitled 7 Reasons The Anglo-Franco Defence Agreement Is A Bad Idea. I discovered that we had done so while I was eating my breakfast, and it’s fair to say that I was quite stunned. In fact I, the Jacques Tati obsessed, Voltaire-reading, coffee-guzzling half of the 7 Reasons team (the one with the French name), almost choked on my croissant. “A bad idea?!” I exclaimed in a voice so high that it was only audible to very small dogs, “but it’s a brilliant idea!” And it is. Here are seven reasons why:

1. History. The most notable occasion on which we’ve had a defence agreement and a joint expeditionary force with France was the Second World War. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, we won that. Obviously it didn’t work out too well for France, what with Germany annihilating the French army and occupying most of their country, and Britain blowing up the French navy before going home to dine on powdered egg with the Americans. But we did win, so defence agreements with France are a proven success. And now that we have the Channel Tunnel, their government will be able to flee to London so much more quickly than last time. If that’s possible.

2. Cuisine. Working together will rid both nations of antiquated ideas about the other nation’s diet. They will come to realise that there’s more to British cuisine than roast beef – because we’ve had branches of McDonalds since at least the 1970s – and we will come to realise that there’s more to French cuisine than frogs legs. They’ll introduce us to soufflé: An insignificant, over-inflated tart that shrinks at the merest hint of a knife, and Quiche Lorraine: A dish that they readily share with Germans – usually as a starter – which is often followed by a generous helping of their speciality, crêpe à la guerre.

3. Wisdom. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer: A line from The Godfather – often wrongly attributed to Sun Tzu – that’s a very wise strategy indeed. And who is the enemy in this case? Well, it’s France: The nation we’ve spent more time at war with than any other. They are l’ennemi traditionnel, and by being on board the same ships with them we’ll be able to keep a very close eye on them. Also, should a war break out between the nations, civilian casualties will be minimised as the theatre of war will be far smaller than usual; sometimes it will even be confined to the same engine room or bridge. And remember, should the enemy sink one of our aircraft carriers, they will bear half the cost.

4. Finance. Even if you’re not au fait with the minutiae of military funding it’s bleeding obvious that we’re going to save lots of money by sharing spending with France. Look at paint. All armed forces need lots of paint and, by getting together we’ll have greater purchasing power when it comes to procuring it. We’ll make substantial savings on grey paint for navy use, and camouflage paint for army use. And we’ll make even bigger savings on red, white and blue paint as we’ll need bloody loads of that now that we’ll need to paint a French flag on one side of things and a British flag on the other. The savings will be enormous. Énorme.

5. Efficacy. The measure by which all branches of the armed services are judged is their strike-capability. And by entering into an agreement with the French, we’ll increase the strike-capability of our military substantially. In fact, with the French on board, our strike capability will be the highest of any force in the world; our strike-capability will be infinity, which is greater even than the combined forces of China, North Korea, Iran, Christmas Island, Easter Island, Chuck Norris and Malta.

6. Co-operation. When Britain and France work together, the two nations have been able to affect profound and lasting positive sociological change. The channel tunnel, for example, which was first proposed in 1802 and was completed a mere 192 years later, allowed refugees of many nationalities to complete the final leg of their epic journeys of migration; fleeing hardship and squalor from across the four corners of Northern France, to civilisation in Southern England; where they were able to escape the tyranny of boules, cycling and listening to Johnny Hallyday and were introduced to the more civilised British pastimes of cricket, morris dancing, and the Daily-Mail-witch-hunt.

7. Culture. Our nations have much to learn from each other and the accord will doubtless be a civilising influence. As we get to know each other as individuals there will be a significant breakdown of prejudice and an increase in cultural exchange. We will teach the French to drink copious quantities of beer and fight with bald men in shirts at the weekend, and they will teach the British to drink copious quantities of wine and run from bald men in shirts at le weekend. We will teach the French to make popular music that will be cherished the world over, and they will teach the British how to sneer at the X-Factor. We will teach them that France is the ideal holiday destination, and they will teach us that France is the ideal holiday destination. It’s a match made in heaven. The Anglo-French defence agreement is going to be great.

November 3, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Be Happy That She Hates That You Love Sports

If there is one thing you know about us, it is that we are British. As a result the website is full of British humour. So it’s always interesting when we get comments from abroad. We know for instance, that the Dutch find us quite amusing, while the French…erm…well let’s put it this way, we are never going to have a French Guest Writer. So far, all of our guest writers have been British. Or at least half-British*. Today though, that is changing. Because, in the first of what we hope will be many international escapades, we are all off to Iowa. Or, more accurately, Iowa is coming to our sofa. And with Iowa comes Sandra McAubre, a lady who writes on the topic of Sports Management Degrees over at SportsManagementDegrees.Net. She also very much welcomes your comments, so when you’ve finished reading her post please do send her an email and ask her what a ‘brickbat’ is. Then let us know. Thanks.**

There are some men who would read this title and think I was nuts, and they’re justified for thinking so. They’re the ones who always seem to be at the receiving end of the wrath of the fairer sex for their obsession with sports. Every time there’s a big game on, they’re faced with a combination of excitement and apprehension – the latter because they’re worried about the brickbats that their significant other, be it spouse or girlfriend, is going to be throwing around. Yes, there are women who enjoy a game as much as the testosterone-fueled men seem to do and others who are understanding and even accommodating during games, but then, every other man I’ve met is of the opinion that they’ve missed out on meeting specimens of these rare breeds. Even so, I still persist with the opinion that you must take satisfaction in the fact that your woman hates that you love sports. Because:

1. You Can Hate That She’s Too Sappy. If your girlfriend/wife is understanding about you watching sports when there’s a game on, then you can bet your last dollar that you’re going to have to reciprocate the favor in kind – just when you’re in the mood for some love, she’s going to be bawling her eyes out watching a sappy love story and you’re going to have to keep your mouth and much more zipped up!

2. You Don’t Have To Reciprocate In Kind. Worse, if she watches the games with you, you’re going to have to summon up some tears during that oh-so-boring movie (with nary a bang-up fight) too; but then, I think the idea of keeping more than your mouth zipped up should bring on the waterworks naturally enough!

3. You Have Genuine Reason To Hang Out With The Guys. If sport is banned at home, then you (can hope) you don’t get into too much trouble when you stop over at a bar to catch the last quarter of the big game before heading on home!

4. Christmas And Birthdays Become More Fun. No more boring ties for you in return for all the sparklers you love to (you’re forced to?) buy for your girl; rather, you’re awash in season tickets with premier seating (after you give her an infinite number of not-so-subtle hints of course) for the best games in town.

5. You Don’t Have To Tolerate Her Friends. If your game buddies are banned from your home, then it’s only fair that she can’t expect you to lock yourself into your room when her girlfriends are over for whatever it is that women do when they get together; and on the bright side, you could sneak away to watch a game on your friend’s big screen TV when the female brigade comes calling!

6. Your Beer Belly Is Under Control. With a supportive wife/girlfriend, you’re going to guzzle bottles and bottles of beer and continue eating countless chips when watching your game, little realizing that they’re all heading straight for your gut and on the road to making you fat and unhealthy. So maybe the disapproval can help you stave off the food and drink you seem to push down when it’s game time and save your health in the process.

7. You Get Some Quality Time Alone. And finally, no matter how much you love your significant other, there are times when you prefer to watch your game in solitude (if you can’t enjoy the company of your beer buddies, of course) without being interrupted by questions and remarks that you have absolutely no interest in at the moment. So if she hates that you’re into sports, maybe, just maybe, she’s going to be sulking till the game’s over, after which you can do some crawling to get back into her good books!

*Or completely Australian, which is not in Britain at all.

**Apparently I’m the only one who had never heard of the word brickbat. I feel a bit silly now.

July 17, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Teaching Is (Mostly) The Best Job In The World

A few weeks ago, you may remember Liz Gregory telling us why Summer was great. There was so much agreement with her in the 7 Reasons HQ that we just had to get her back on the sofa. Thankfully, Liz was only too keen to make a reappearance. And this time she’s bought along her box of chalks. Or are they marker pens? I can never tell when I’m sans contact lenses. If you didn’t check out Liz’s blog – Things To Do In Manchester – last time, then you better do it today. Unless you want detention. Right, enough of the stupid school quips, I’m off to the bike sheds.

1. Holidays (Part One). We may as well deal with any resentment up front, so we’ll start with holidays. I get 11 weeks per year. Teachers in schools get more. I understand that people in the real world get insultingly poor amounts of annual leave, and I feel bad about this. But no-one, anywhere (that includes you, Cameron) will take my glorious six-week summer off me.

2. Holidays (Part Two). Last year the afore-mentioned six week summer break began on July 7^th. The Ashes series started on July 8^th. This point needs no further expansion.

3. The Students. Yes, I know this one is hard to believe; even a cursory glance at The Daily Mail will indicate that the youth of today are a snarling, feral mass, pausing from their casual sex and drug-taking only to mug passing old ladies and commit knife crimes. You may be disappointed to learn that actually, today’s teenagers are pretty much the same as any other generation of teenagers: moody, unpredictable, funny, witty, charming…in short, they are good company. Although I do query some of their musical taste, and the overall aesthetics of wearing one’s jeans halfway down one’s backside.

4. Talking About What You Love, All Day Every Day. I teach English, which means that rather than answer telephones and push bits of paper around a desk all day, a typical Monday might include reading Wuthering Heights (and indeed performing the Kate Bush caterwauling classic as a Christmas treat), acting out bits of Streetcar Named Desire (Stellllaaaaaaa!), and teaching how to write scripts, articles or short stories….it’s amazing.

5. Seasonal Celebrations. Christmas is fun, sure. Christmas in a college with hundreds of sixteen-year-olds who are desperately excited but are trying equally desperately not to show it is even better. Students are also very keen on the confectionary that tends to accompany such seasonal celebrations, and bring it in by the bucket load; there is surely not a teacher in existence who has not felt their waistband constrict at Easter or Christmas due to a surfeit of Quality Street.

6. Stationery. This may actually be specific to English teachers, but every September the pain of a new academic year is soothed by an almighty trip to Paperchase to stock up on novelty pens and notebooks with monkeys on. This is an essential part of teaching, and its impact on the economic stability of Britain must not be overlooked.

7. Students Suddenly Realising You’re Not Ninety. I am not particularly advanced in years, but to my youthful charges I may as well be approaching my hundred and twelfth birthday. Until, of course, you are spotted outside of work, wearing jeans, talking to friends, and maybe (gasp) drinking wine. This prompts much admiration, as students recognise you for what you truly are – a plucky old person with a life outside college. This will raise your kudos above every member of the maths and science departments almost instantly.

July 10, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: 7 Reasons We Were Wrong

The good thing about 7 Reasons – or should that be one of the good things? – is that it never gets bogged down in fact. Ninety-nine percent of the time, ninety-nine percent of all our reasons are nothing more than opinion. Which is great, because it means you get the chance to disagree with us. Or at least it would if our opinions weren’t so well thought out and presented. However, just occassionally we do get proved wrong. And when I say we, I mean me. I’m Jon. Here are 7 Reasons I got wrong. And 7 Reasons they were wrong. Which common sense would suggest means you have 14 Reasons to read. You don’t. You have seven. Twice.

1. 7 Reasons To Become An Artist
Reason Put Forward: It’s A Con. You can do anything and call it art. Take Tracey Emin for instance. No, actually don’t bother. No one is quite sure where she has been. Instead take a look above. That’s Emin’s artwork. My Bed it’s called. The Saatchi Gallery describe it thus, ‘Tracey Emin shows us her own bed, in all its embarrassing glory. Empty booze bottles, fag butts, stained sheets, worn panties: the bloody aftermath of a nervous breakdown. By presenting her bed as art, Tracey Emin shares her most personal space, revealing she’s as insecure and imperfect as the rest of the world’. This is how Jonathan Lee describes it, ‘Bollocks‘.
Reason I Was Wrong: People are making a mint out of forging Tracey Emin’s work.

2. 7 Reasons To Write A Song About Rain
Reason Put Forward: Grace Kelly – Singing In The Rain. Standing in the rain and having a sing-song is quite frankly a stupid thing to do. You’ll get wet and cold and the sound of the rain hitting the ground will drown out your harmonies. But if you are a songwriter then you have free license to try and brainwash people.
Reason I Was Wrong: The reason is perfectly acceptable. Suggesting Grace Kelly sang it, is not. It’s Gene Kelly. Always was. Always will be.

3. 7 Reasons The Tiger Woods Story Is Annoying Me
Reason Put Forward: 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.
Reason I Was Wrong: Pretty much everyone was outraged. Pretty much everyone dropped him. As getting things wrong go, this is one of my finer efforts.

4. 7 Reasons To Fly With British Airways This Christmas
Reason Put Forward: Sir Richard Branson. He never flies with BA.
Reason I Was Wrong: He has. A few times. According to Chris Evans’ autobiography, Sir Richard Branson was so keen to get Evans to sign for Virgin Radio that he joined Evans on a flight to New York – on Concorde – just to try and get his signature. And in 2008 Branson flew to China as part of a British Government delegation on BA744.

5. 7 Reasons Buying A Christmas Card Is Infuriating
Reason Put Forward: Brothers. Why is it you can no longer buy a ‘Merry Christmas Brother’ card? It’s always ‘Bro’ or ‘Bruv’ or ‘Brother and Wife’ or ‘Brother and Girlfriend’ and new for this year ‘Brother and Boyfriend’. My brother is not gay. He has not got a wife. I am not sending him a text in which I may shorten to Bro. And he is not in some downtown hood where everyone goes around punching fists and calling each other ‘Bruv’. He is just my brother. I want a card that says that. Is that too much to ask?
Reason I Was Wrong: I found one. It said, ‘Merry Christmas Brother’. All I had to do was look a bit harder.

6. 7 Reasons To Love A Cardigan
Reason Put Forward: The Dog. No one is going to tell me that the Cardigan Welsh Corgi was not made for riding.
Reason I Was Wrong: In the words of the guy in Clevedon at Christmas, “Get off my f***ing dog! It’s not a horse!”

7. 7 Reasons 2010 Will Be Great
Reason Put Forward: The Winter Olympics. We’re only a few months away from Vancouver 2010 and what an Olympics it is going to be. Great Britain have their most successful games ever after clinching Gold medals in both the male and female snowball fighting events. Unfortunately they lose out to Canada in the final of the gritting competition, but the then Prime Minister Gordon Brown still hails the achievement as “remarkable” and “a terrific reflection of what global warming can do for our country”.
Reason I Was Wrong: Not only are gritting and snowball fighting not included in this years Olympics, but the British Ski and Snowsport Federation is going into administration.

February 7, 2010
7 Reasons Not To Watch The Snowman This Christmas

1. It’s A Repeat. Every single year it’s on. And I’ll be honest with you, it doesn’t get any better with each passing year. Not even HDTV has made it an enjoyable thing to watch. Which is such a shame really, because The Snowman himself is just about perfect. He is the only snowman I have ever seen who looks good in a hat. And I’m not just saying that. I really believe it.

2. The Song. A little known fact is that the version of ‘Walking In The Air’ used in the film is not sung by Aled Jones, but by choirboy Peter Auty. A more widely known fact is that whoever sings it, it is still bloody annoying. Oh, and another thing. You do not walk in air. You fly.

3. It’s depressing. I am not entirely sure why it is billed as a wonderful Children’s adventure. I mean, The Snowman turns into a puddle at the end. That’s as horrific a way to die as I can possibly think of. I know the writers did it to prevent him coming back in a dodgy sequel, but surely there are better ways. He could have been broken up for a snowball fight or something.

4. The Great Escape. Now, I haven’t actually looked at the TV schedule, but I am pretty sure it’s going to be on at about 3.45pm on some channel. The same time as The Snowman will be on on the other channel. The Great Escape is a far superior film. Its got tunnels and motorbikes and Germans and a character called The Big X in it. The Snowman didn’t have a name. Nor was he German.

5. It’s Mind Blowing. The film is completely hallucinogenic. I imagine this is the kind of thing The Beatles saw everyday when they were working on Sgt. Peppers Lonely Hearts Club Band. Only it didn’t make The Beatles want to smash the TV screen with a tin of Quality Street.

6. It’s Wordless. I don’t know if you have noticed, but there is no talking it. There aren’t even bloody subtitles. It’s just 28 minutes of nothingness. The unrealistic nature of this is infuriating. If you were a young boy – as I once was – you would be saying something if a snowman asked you if you’d like to go for little flight somewhere. You would also have put gloves on. Holding a snowman’s hand without gloves on has to be the quickest way to hypothermia.

7. The Idents. This year it is sponsored by Iceland. (The place where no one’s Mum actually goes, as opposed to the country). It means you have to witness those bang-head-on-wall inducing adverts. Who would have thought that they could be even worse without Kerry Katona in them?

December 24, 2009
7 Reasons Buying A Christmas Card Is Infuriating

1. Design. What is wrong with a picture of a robin or a Christmas tree or a snow covered church? It may be the traditional values I hold dear, but I don’t want to buy a card that has a picture of Santa with his pants around his ankles and a mince pie stuck up his backside.

2. Mother & Dad. I’m sorry, do the card manufacturers have a character limit that prevents them from using the correct format or something? It is not ‘Mother & Dad’ is it? It’s ‘Mother & Father’ or ‘Mum & Dad’. I didn’t look inside the cards in question for fear of being compelled to rip them up, but I strongly expect that also use the phrase ‘Yours Faithfully’.

3. Messages. They are always so bloody cliched and impersonal. ‘To my wonderful parents. You are the greatest around. I will love you until the end of time.’ Yes, they are your parents. Of course you will. Why can’t it just say ‘Wishing You A Merry Christmas and A Happy New Year’ and then leave enough room for me to write whatever I want to write?

4. Record Your Own Message. Yes, you can record your own Christmas message for your parents. If I wanted my parents to hear me wishing them ‘A Merry Christmas’ I would phone them up. Or given that I will be in the same house as them this year, I might actually do it face to face. I don’t need a Christmas card to do it for me. I am not an idiot. Fact.

5. Pets. I have never had a pet so maybe I am not on the same emotional level as those that have, but I have never understood the whole pets and cards thing. Whether it’s the ‘To The Dog’ or ‘From The Gerbil’ kind, they are both, as far as I am concerned, wrong. Your dog can not read and your gerbil sure as hell can’t write. All they want is a squeaky ball or a new bit of cardboard. But obviously I am very much out of touch as Clintons have a bigger section for ‘Pets’ than they do for ‘Wife’.

6. Merry Christmas from Jonathan and Homer Simpson. Why? Why, why, why? Why the hell would I want to give someone a Christmas card that is from myself and a cartoon character? No one I know even likes the bloody Simpsons.

7. Brothers. Why is it you can no longer buy a ‘Merry Christmas Brother’ card? It’s always ‘Bro’ or ‘Bruv’ or ‘Brother and Wife’ or ‘Brother and Girlfriend’ and new for this year ‘Brother and Boyfriend’. My brother is not gay. He has not got a wife. I am not sending him a text in which I may shorten to Bro. And he is not in some downtown hood where everyone goes around punching fists and calling each other ‘Bruv’. He is just my brother. I want a card that says that. Is that too much to ask?

December 22, 2009
7 Reasons to Send a Christmas Card

1. Self promotion. Every year, Michael Winner sends out a Christmas card that promotes him, his books and his television show. He’ll send it to any of the readers of his Winner’s Dinners column in the Sunday Times who send him their address. Would you want Michael Winner to have your address? What if he came to visit? What if he told you to “calm down, dear”? The best case scenario is that you’ll get something with a picture of Michael Winner on it. Repeatedly having your middle-toe hit with a hammer is a better case scenario than that.

2. Comedy. If you send a Christmas card without a stamp on, your friend may be forced to go miles to his local post office to pay for the postage. When he phones up to complain, you can tell him that you’ll reimburse him for the amount he was charged, and send him a cheque in an envelope without a stamp on it, forcing him to go back to the post office and pay the excess postage once more. This actually happened to a friend of mine. I was the culprit. The following year I sent him a CD in a box large enough to accommodate an average-sized refrigerator, knowing he would be out at the time of delivery, forcing him to go back to the post office once more. I am a bad man.

3. Cheque. You might want to send a cheque as a Christmas present, and what better place to put it than inside a Christmas card? As you slide the cheque into the card, you can imagine the recipient’s beaming face as they gratefully receive their gift. Obviously, this is not what happens in the real world. The standard reaction to receiving a cheque is to stare at it blankly for several seconds before exclaiming “A cheque! What is this, the dark ages?” The recipient, used to the wonder that is internet banking, will have to go into town and trudge round for ages, attempting to find a branch of their bank that hasn’t closed down. It will probably rain on them while they’re doing this. They will be cold, they will be wet, they will be tired, they will complain about the experience on the internet. They will not be grateful.

4. Handwriting. A Christmas card is your annual opportunity to handwrite something. It’s surprising how hard it is when you’re out of practice, and it’s surprising how tired your hand gets. My cards look like they were written by a messy child when I start them, and a messy child’s dog by the time I finish.

5. Newsletter. Unbelievably, there are people out there who don’t have blogs. These people will sometimes try to impart a whole years worth of family news in a newsletter contained within the Christmas card. These soporific missives usually contain tedious accounts of the summer holiday in Bermuda, Trevor’s hectic year at the office (who knew there was so much to write about human resources?) and Melanie’s second year at Bath (minus all of the interesting bits, as she hasn’t passed those on to her parents). You can send your own newsletter in a card too, containing your description of how you invented the iPob (a portable device to store and play classic children’s television programmes), a torrid account of your affair with Jennifer Aniston and some pictures from your holiday on the moon. You can write anything you want in a newsletter, no one reads them.

6. Protest. When you send a Christmas card you can use a special Christmas stamp without a picture of the Queen on it. Replacing The Queen with a reindeer is one in the eye for the oppressive monarchical hierarchy, and it would also give Prince Philip somewhere to hang his hat.

7. It’s nice. Obviously there are some sad, lonely people out there who might not expect to receive any Christmas cards. It’s not nice to think of anyone not receiving a card so it’s heartening to remember that Jan Moir can actually go out and post a Christmas card to herself.

December 21, 2009