Tag: funny

Russian Roulette Sunday: The Words Behind The Words Behind The Reasons 2.

Hello, it’s a Jon week. In terms of Russian Roulette Sunday anyway. In terms of general living, every week is a Jon week. If it wasn’t I’d be dead or something. And no one wants that. Especially Marc. All the reasons and all the lemons would drive him insane. So, anyway, back to today. If you were with us in January, you may remember we took a look at some of the words Marc and I have exchanged with each other in the making of 7 Reasons. Have a read here if you were washing your hair that day. Not only was it funny, it was very easy to write. Which is basically our ideal kind of post. So we’ve decided to do it again. Right here. Right now. Enjoy.

“I think it’s fairly obvious, I’m a spaceman.”

“I haven’t done the same, that would be lazy and unhelpful.”

“I am now hungover and not writing furiously about lemons.”

“I may have something sensible to say later.”

“I think camp bingo is like gay bingo. But in a field.”

“Ouch.”

“It wasn’t supposed to happen this way.”

“Canasta.”

“Well done on the lemons.”

“7 Reasons Guy Fawkes Should Have Been Called Lady Spoons?”

“I’d like to point out that a man in Russia found your socks and sandals piece yesterday.”

“If I take the name of York’s most famous son (his birthplace is a four minute walk from here) in vain, an angry mob will probably form outside my door.”

“I shall have an Alka-Seltzer and some lemon juice.”

“That’s £22.50 each per month that we’re not making now. That’s progress.”

“In hindsight, I probably shouldn’t have put it straight in. That’s ovens for you though.”

“I’m back! Did you miss me?”

“Would you be totally insulted if I said I didn’t?”

“I was writing about dough balls. It does happen occasionally.”

“The only thing I liked about it was the end. A bit like when my parents used to listen to the Archers at dinner.”

“How about a cat hoverboard?”

“Oh, and Esquire magazine bought David Baddiel lunch today. Have they said anything about buying us lunch?”

“Excuse me a minute, I have a Jehovah Witness shaped problem.”

“I’m not sure it’s totally necessary, but it looks pretty. A bit like Kate Moss.”

“Let me know if you need a lemon.”

“Nice lemon on the sofa. Very funny.”

“Marc. Spiffing. Jon.”

“I have added my thoughts in curly lines that look like sperm.”

“I’ve never liked the French.”

“I tried to write a piece about beards once.”

“I’m like the world’s slowest genius.”

“We are like the tortoise and the tortoise.”

“Something went wrong. I think I shut it too tightly.”

“Photoshopping top trumps cards is more time consuming than I imagined.”

“I’m off to visit the shed.”

“I’m off to the greenhouse of neurosis.”

“I’ve tried shouting at it and that isn’t working.”

“A boy just fell off his bike. I’m laughing. Shall I go and pick him up?”

“That’s like liking Hitler more than Atilla The Hun and New Kids On The Block.”

“Ken, when in doubt, pretend to be a grown-up. It never fails.”

“I don’t have an issue with it. It’s probably the sadist in me. Or the beer.”

“I don’t think you’ve said Zara enough.”

“I hadn’t forgotten that you’re going to Rome, as in my mind it’s a tiramisu-related-event.”

“Bollocks.”

“Is it a cow?”

“It looked funny and I googled it.”

October 3, 2010
7 Reasons I Am Rubbish At Origami

7 Reasons I Am Rubbish At Origami

July 28, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: The A to Z of 7 Reasons (part I)

Crikey! It’s the first part of an A to Z of 7 Reasons. Whatever will they think of next? Yup, the second part. Almost certainly.

A is for Advertising. It’s something we haven’t quite got right yet. Since we blew the whole of our budget on an ad from Pearl & Dean, we have been kicking around trying to make the most of our own talents. Which is why we’ve created masks and stolen 1970s posters and changed the words. We’ll get it right though. Someday.

B is for Bath. Much of the creative thought that goes into 7 Reasons occurs in the bath. Many, many posts and website features have had their genesis there. The bath is a place of much 7 Reasons creativity. It is not, however, a place for 7 Reasons meetings. We won’t make that mistake again. Oh the horror.

C is for Cat. Or, to give him his correct name, Horatio Pyewackett Caractacus Fearns. This is who actually comes up with all posts for the Yorkshire side of the sofa. And probably explains all the scratches.

D is for Daily. 7 Reasons has a new post every day. Not always with the correct amount of apostrophes, but it’s there (or rather here) every day. We’re more reliable than the postman, more dedicated than god, and more committed than…in fact, we probably should be committed.

E is for Eighth Reason Competition. One of the better ideas Jon has had, though that isn’t saying much. You may not have realised it, but it is still running. All you have to do is think of an eighth reason for one of that week’s posts and you may well win a badge. Well actually, you will win a badge. Because no one else will enter.

F is for France. We’re probably not welcome there. Perhaps as a result of this image.

Or as a result of this post. Or this post. Or this post.

G is for Guests. Every Saturday someone joins us on the sofa. And they’ve come up with some intriguing observations. Things about gussets; and cricket kits looking like bananas; and freckles. And, rather frustratingly, they always prove the most popular posts of the week.

H is for Hell’s teeth! Which is what I exclaimed when 7 Reasons was first read in Ulaanbaatar. Strange that someone in Mongolia would want to know why Marc’s afraid of Flamenco dancers but there you go. The world: It’s a bit odd.

I is for Intelligence. This is something Marc and Jon are still striving for. Though until 7 Reasons is finally put to rest, they’ll go on looking at plant pots and Germans and tortoise shells and thinking there are 7 Reasons right there.

J is for Jennifer. Jennifer Aniston. Ah Jennifer, Jennifer. Jen Jen. One day we feel sure that you’ll respond to our phone calls/emails/faxes/letters/texts/tweets/notes written on beermats and pushed under your door/petrarchan sonnets performed from the depths of your garden hedge. One day. One fine day. One happy, happy day. One glorious day.

K is for Kent (via Sussex). This is where the first half of the 7 Reasons team is based. If we are doing it in alphabetical order. If we’re doing it in height order, it would be the second half. But we’re not. We’re doing it in alphabetical order. So it’s the first half.

L is for Lucubration. Like most good things, much of the work that goes into 7 Reasons happens at night, while mere mortals are sleeping or watching television or knitting or whatever people do at night when they’re not writing. They edit probably. We don’t know what they do, we are busy. We write. At night. Oh, and during the day too. We just wanted to show off our fancy word.

M is for Muppet. If it wasn’t for muppetry, you wouldn’t be reading this A-Z now. All will become clear next week. We’re very excited about next week. Be sure to clear three minutes and seven seconds in your diary next Sunday. We’ve cleared six minutes and fourteen seconds, but then there are two of us. Did we mention that we’re excited?

June 20, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: Advertising Take II

Hi! Marc here again. Last week, as you may recall, we blew our entire advertising budget on a film by Pearl & Dean. To be honest, we were a bit disappointed by it. We were so disappointed, in fact, that we thought we could probably do better ourselves. We reasoned that with my capacity for historical perspective and Jon’s talent for understatement and his innate modesty, it wouldn’t be too difficult to put together a simple and cheap – yet memorable – advert for our website. Here it is:

7 Reasons Advert II

So, in conclusion, please send donations to:

The 7 Reasons Advertising Fund

7 Reasons Towers

London

W12 7RJ

May 9, 2010
7 Reasons It Takes 7 Songs To Tell You Who You Are

I’m a bit weird. I thought you should know. Sometimes I sit on the tube and listen to music. Nothing weird there I admit, but sometimes I sit on the tube, listen to music and decide to play a game. I switch on the shuffle function and decide that the next three songs will tell me what sort of person I am. So for example, Billy Joel’s Piano Man would tell me I am a musical instrument engineer. Now, the more observant of you will have noted that I am not. Which is why Piano Man never has been in the first three. It really is that accurate. So today, here are the first seven songs that emanated from my speakers after I had clicked shuffle. They tell you exactly the kind of person I am. That’s right. Weird.

Dancing In The Dark – Bruce Springsteen. I can’t dance. Switching the light off is always my first move. Admittedly this looks stupid at three in the afternoon and gets me in trouble when I am out clubbing*, but needs must.

Wings Of A Dove – Madness. That’s right, I’m vain. I don’t have wings, but I do have arms. I also find the sensual properties of Dove for Men Wing Lotion particularly welcoming.

No Words – Neil Diamond. This is generally what happens when my girlfriend asks me what I am thinking. Well, she got fed up with hearing the word, ‘Nothing’.

The Sun Ain’t Gonna Shine Anymore – Robson & Jerome. Believe me, if your iTunes shuffled to Robson & Jerome while you were writing a piece entitled 7 Reasons It Takes 7 Songs To Tell You Who You Are, you would be hoping the sun ain’t gonna shine anymore. In fact you’d be hoping the world was going to end. Sharpish.

Yes – Coldplay. I’m a Yes man. In general, I’ll say yes more times than I say no. It creates opportunities and gives you new things to do with your life. Like thinking up 7 Reasons posts. Like writing 7 Reasons posts. Like editing 7 Reasons posts. Like getting annoyed because the 7 Reasons post you have just thought up, written and edited is actually rubbish. Like sticking pins into your Marc Fearns voodoo doll because you said yes to him last October.

Sussex By The Sea – Horsham Borough Brass Band. I am good at geography. To be honest I didn’t need the Horsham Borough Brass Band to give hints as to which Sussex they meant. But like them I like to clarify things. Like England By France. Or in a dream England Bye France. Or in an even better dream England Buy France, England Sell The French, England Send Gordon Brown, Germaine Greer and Janet Street-Porter Through The Channel Tunnel, Lock The Door And Melt The Key. Epic.

Waiting For A Star To Fall – Boy Meets Girl. Yes, I’m naïve. I also think the sky is going to fall on my head and Steven Gerrard is going to learn the words to the National Anthem before the World Cup starts in June.

*Yes, I have been known to go clubbing. I’m not all about tea and crumpets.

April 1, 2010
7 Reasons Not to Hate The British

We didn’t make this – the internet sent it to us, and jolly good it is too. If we were in the habit of coming up with an eighth reason we could add that we’re not French. But we don’t come up with an eighth reason. That’s not our job. We only do seven. Or, sometimes, five with with a lot of extra-shiny-words to distract you. Not eight though. That would be unthinkable.

March 20, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: How To Write A 7 Reasons Post

Since the inception of 7 Reasons, we have – as often as possible – given our Saturdays over to one of you. It helps mix it up and I am sure it’s always good to have a different tone of voice to enjoy your breakfast with. However, the feedback we always get from our guest writers is, ‘it was really hard to think of 7 reasons’. The answer we usually get from people we approach to write for us is, ‘no, I won’t be able to think of 7 reasons for anything’. Well by way of an education, this is my attempt at showing you how it can be done.

1. Everything is a possible subject. Wherever you are, look around you. (Though come back to the screen in 10 seconds because I still require your attention). Whatever you can see could be a subject. A vase. A chair. A window. A packet of chocolate digestives. Just pick one.

2. Question Time. Ask yourself questions about your chosen subject. Let’s say it’s a vase. (I haven’t thought about this before. I am writing it as I go. If it goes horribly wrong I’ll rewrite using biscuits, but that won’t happen because I have faith in my ability to write about vases). a) What would I do to that vase to make it better? b) Why is it made out of glass? c) What else could it be used for?

3. Answer your questions. a) Make it bigger. Make it stronger. Paint it a different colour. b) Because cardboard would get damp. Because that’s what glassmakers make things out of. c) Holding pencils. Carrying water. Carrying petrol. Knocking a robber over the head.

4. Analysis. Which answers do you like better? Which do you feel you could write most confidentally about? Which answers did you enjoy writing more. For me, it was probably the answer to ‘c)’.

5. Conclusion. Work out what you’ve written. In this instance I have written down four uses for a vase. Well I can’t do, 7 Uses For a Vase, the poxy website is called 7 Reasons. How am I going to get reasons in there? Play around with it. Make different words the subject of your title. 7 Reasons To Use A Vase. 7 Reasons A Vase Is Useful. 7 Reasons To Own A Vase. And there it is. 7 Reasons To Own A Vase.

6. Expand. You already have four reasons for this. Okay so carrying water and carrying petrol are very similar so maybe that’s one reason. You need four more. What’s the obvious reason? To put flowers in. At this point you’re probably thinking that’s not funny. That’s because it’s not. So twist it. What would happen if you didn’t have a vase and someone bought you flowers? Where would you put them? In the plug hole? Probably not. That’ll be a nuisance when doing the dishes. In a glass? A cocktail umbrella is probably better. That’s four reasons. What else could you use it as? Again look around. It’s sunny. You could use it to magnify the suns rays and make a small fire. That chair, the leg is a bit wobbly. Put the shorter leg in the vase. Look at the vase. The shape of it. It makes your face look a funny shape. A bit like those funny mirrors at fairgrounds. What a great way to keep the children entertained. And for free! I don’t have children? So what? We don’t mind lies. This isn’t the Chilcott enquiry.

7. Shape It. Suddenly you have your 7 reasons. Write them out. Keep them short(ish). Decide an order. The more obvious reasons first, the wild ones later. Above all though, be you and be your writing style. Then send it to us. Done.

And that is all there is to it. You want a go now don’t you? Good. We’ll look forward to reading it. (Oh, and if you want to use us to plug your business/blog/twitter account, well Jon is quite happy to take payment, write your reasons and put your name on it. Just don’t tell Marc).

March 7, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Women Are Better Than Men

A few weeks ago we had Emily Clifford on our sofa showing us how it is done. Her post on reasons why men and women shouldn’t converse proved very popular – with women. Because we like women we thought we’d invite Emily back. Unfortunately she has gone AWOL in the Blue Mountains this weekend. Before she went though, she left a note for us under one of the sofa cushions. Jon’s side. It said if we wanted to continue the theme of making women feel superior to men we should speak to her sister. Well one thing led to another and before we knew where we were we found Natalie Clifford clawing at the sofa. We’ve allowed her to stay for the day in exchange for a hugely popular post about the brilliance of man. This is her effort. Oh dear.

1. Looks. It’s not my job to say who designed man and woman, but whoever it was clearly had a deadline and spent 97% of their time on the female body. And they have done a pretty good job with it. As for the man, well it looks as if they had a few left over bits and just cobbled it together. That penis thing. I don’t get how it could have gone so wrong.

2. Communication. Women are good at this as they can put words together to form sentences. Men are useless. Their favourite word is, “nothing”. As in, “What are you thinking about?”

3. Leaders. Men may like to think they are the head of the family but if they were why do they have to ask the woman to do something?

4. Multi-tasking. Men think multi-tasking is watching the football, drinking beer and looking after the remote control. In fact it is doing the ironing while cooking the dinner while helping son number one with his homework while telling son number two off for pulling daughter number one’s hair while she was asking mother if she could have a friend to play.

5. Better friends. When a man starts dating a woman, whose friends do they hang out with more? Yes, the woman’s. And when they get married, whose friends do they stay in contact with? Yes, the woman’s. Half the time a man’s friends don’t even know he has got married. They just think he went to the pub toilet five years ago and didn’t come back.

6. Memory. A woman can remember things like dates. And phone numbers. And names. And ages. And what school the children go to. And what the children’s names are. Men can’t even remember whether they wear glasses or not.

7. Vision. I am not sure what it is about men and their inability to see dust. I don’t adhere to the belief that they just can’t be bothered to clean, I honestly believe they are blind to dirt. Unless it’s on their shirt. In which case they give it to the woman to clean.

March 6, 2010
7 Reasons Australians Shouldn’t Make Television

1. The Weather. It must be quite easy to present the weather in Australia, it’s always “nice” there, so you probably don’t have to be too bright to do it. That would explain this weatherman being outwitted by a pelican then.

2. Wipeout Australia. In Britain, we have Total Wipeout, a programme in which pudgy, potato-faced middle-managers from Droitwich lumber around a ridiculous assault course. Wipeout Australia uses the same course, except everything is harder and the machines go at about five times the speed. The people they send around don’t seem any leaner or sportier though, that wouldn’t be any fun.

3. Skippy. In Britain in the ’60s, men whistled at attractive young women in mini-skirts. In Australia in the ’60s, they whistled at kangaroos. Still, they seem quite happy.

4. Advert. Halfway through, so it’s time for a break. Would you like one of these? It’s undetectable, you know.

5. Soaps. The bush, mushrooms, a mysterious pig, a flaming hand – it has to be a soap opera. Obvious, really.

6. Marriage. This sort of thing never happened on Richard and Judy.

7. The dream. Okay, you knew it had to turn up somewhere didn’t you? That classic Neighbours dream sequence which came out of left-field and astonished the audience. No, not that one, this one. The accents are spot on, by the way.

Okay, it’s time for an admission. I was wrong. All of this stuff is awful, yet somehow brilliant. I’ve had so much fun putting this post together that I’ve become convinced that Australians should make more television – perhaps even all of it. As long as I don’t have to watch Paul Hogan again I’d be quite happy. I might even buy a hairpiece.

March 2, 2010
7 Reasons The Cassette Is Better Than The CD

1. CD Case Design Flaw: Part A. Whichever genius designed the CD case was/is not a genius. A genius would not have made the breadth of the case so bloody tiny that the name of the artist/album is impossible to see unless you have your nose pressed up against it. The breadth of the cassette case was ideal. Perfectly readable from a sensible distance and far less risk of adding a plastic splinter to your face.

2. CD Case Design Flaw: Part B. One for the environmentalists among you. The CD case uses three parts. The cassette case uses two. It isn’t difficult to work out where Global Warming came from is it?

3. Double-sided. When you bought an album on tape, you were in fact getting two mini albums. And A-side and a B-side. Musicians actually took this into account when putting the track listing together. And it made a huge difference. Oasis’ Definitely Maybe and What’s The Story (Morning Glory?) were both released on tape. Standing On The Shoulders Of Giants was not. Coincidence?

4. Sturdiness. A cassette is to a hammer what a HobNob is a to a cup of tea. The CD is a rich tea finger. Pathetic.

5. Write Protection Override. In the good old days when cassettes appeared on every shelf in Our Price, you could go to bed on a Sunday night happy in the knowledge that you wouldn’t ever have to set foot in that store. That is because you’d just used a bit of masking tape on your father’s copy of Born In The USA and recorded that week’s Top 20 over it.

6. Manual Rewind. Sticking your little finger into a cassette and giving it a turn one way or the other made you feel in control of your music collection. Sticking your little finger through the middle of a CD and spinning it makes you look like a prick. And you’ll get a knuckle cut.

7. Labeling. It was so easy to write on a cassette. Usually it came with specially designed labels anyway. All you had to do was get out the biro. With a CD though, you need a special pen. Does a special pen come with a blank CD? Does it hell. You have to go and find a branch of bloody Hobby Craft. And of course that is miles away. On an industrial estate. Next to a Wickes and Charlies Car Wash and a burger van.

February 23, 2010