7 Reasons

Tag: G&T

  • 7 Reasons That Gin is Never Wrong

    7 Reasons That Gin is Never Wrong

    It was my friend Jen’s birthday on Sunday.  She was drinking gin.  Via the medium of Facebook she suggested that I write 7 Reasons Why Gin is Never Wrong.  I didn’t like that idea at all, but I found inspiration in it.  So here are 7 Reasons That Gin is Never Wrong.  Thanks Jen.

    1.  Gin Is Good For You.  Gin contains all five of your five-a-day.  Have a (large) gin and tonic, and there’s a portion of lime.  Follow it with a martini, and there’s an olive.  Have a few more martinis, and there’s some more olives (plus a few twists of lemon if you’re on a health drive).  Then make a Pimm’s (the number 1 cup is gin-based) and lemonade and you’ve got a drink with the remainder of the fruit bowl plus a salad in it.  That’s all of your five-a-day.  You don’t even need to wash the salad because…

    2.  Gin Is Better For You Than Water.  It’s true!  Gin is medicinal.  In eighteenth century Britain, the water contained all sort of nasties; cholera, typhus (and other bad things that I vaguely remember studying at college and don’t have time to research now.   You’ll just have to take my word for it that water is bad.) and it was actually safer to drink the gin.  So that’s what people did until the government rather meanly halted unlicensed production.  If you consume your salad in your gin, it’ll be healthier than if you washed it.  Probably.

    3.  Gin Is Logical.  When people drink gin, it brings out their better natures and they usually do the most logical thing.  Let’s look at what people do when they drink gin at home.  They sometimes go online and shop (I’m sure we’ve all done it).  And when they shop under gin’s good influence, they always buy the right thing.  A pirate hat; a sports-car; a giant Anglepoise lamp are the sorts of things that people buy when in gin.  When sober, however, people buy monumentally dull things such as ink-cartridges, socks and salad spinners.  And who would – deep down, in their heart of hearts – rather have an ink-cartridge than a pirate hat?  And no one has ever, in the annals of human history, drunk too much gin and purchased a salad spinner.  That’s because gin makes you buy the right thing.

    4.  You Can Never Win An Argument With Gin.  It’s a fearsome opponent.  Argue with it and it will just stonewall you.  Every time.  You can rant, you can shout, you can be as incisive and logical as you like but you will never, ever win.  Its silence will overwhelm any argument and make you look rather foolish.  It will, however, clear you a nice space at the bar and prevent people from engaging you in conversation.  On balance though, you shouldn’t argue with gin.

    5.  You Can Never Win A Fight With Gin.  If arguing with it hasn’t worked, you shouldn’t consider fighting it either.  If you start a fight with gin, it’ll just hurt your hand or slip from your grasp, depending on whether it’s bottled or not.  And you’ll look silly.  I once saw a man in a park get into a spat with a bottle of fortified wine and – despite his commendable footwork and really rather impressive growling – he came second best and ended up out cold in a flower-bed.  And that was only fortified wine.  Gin is twice as strong as that.

    6.  Gin Has Anti-Gravity Properties.  Gravity is, on the whole, a good thing.  It stops us hurtling backwards when we sneeze and prevents our ceilings from becoming cluttered, but it has its drawbacks:  If you ever trip or stumble, beastly gravity will attempt to hurl you at the nearest horizontal surface, usually the floor (though occasionally a table and once, in my case, a canal) and it will hurt.  Gin counteracts this.  With the correct amount of gin within you, should gravity suddenly strike, you will feel no pain.  Nor will you be concerned about any indignity arising from a brush with gravity.  In a straight fight, gin beats gravity.

    7.  Gin Propagates The Species. When people drink gin in public, they make often passes at other people.  Has anyone ever made a pass at you in a tea-house?  No, probably not.  Has anyone ever made a pass at you in a bar (where there is gin)?  Yes, almost certainly.  So, there you go.  If it weren’t for gin, we’d have no children.  Which, ironically, would obviate one of the main causes of drinking.  But gin consumption is a necessary device for the continued existence of humankind: Now go forth and drink gin, you know it makes sense.

     

  • Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Flying With A Strange Man Is Annoying

    Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Flying With A Strange Man Is Annoying

    A few weeks ago – much to the consternation of Italy – I went to Rome. Accompanying me on the epic trip was my girlfriend. While I have covered why Rome and I disagreed in great depth here, I did not speak about our flight home. A flight which split my girlfriend and I up. Though only for two and a half hours. For the duration, I sat next to a woman who seemed interested in children’s illustration. While my girlfriend sat next to a strange man. And an annoying man. That’s one person, not two. This is Claire Quinn’s story.

    7 Reasons Why Flying With A Strange Man Is Annoying
    Google Images' Most Popular Annoying Passenger

    1.  Newspaper. Folding, unfolding, folding, unfolding, folding, unfolding. Rustling, crumpling, rustling, crumpling, rustling, crumpling. All the time. I don’t even think he could read.

    2.  View. It would have been lovely to see the sunset over Europe, instead I saw the back of a man’s head. And a newspaper.

    3.  G&T. This was a kind of torture. I wanted a G&T, he had a G&T. I couldn’t have a G&T as someone had to drive us home when we got back to Heathrow. (When I say ‘us’ I don’t mean the annoying man, I mean the strange man. Jon.) But the annoying man didn’t seem to care about any of this, so he sat there drinking his G&T. Slowly. That is not the way to drink a G&T.

    4.  Lemon. Apart from being a lemon, he had a lemon. It was in his G&T, then it was in his mouth. And he was chewing it and chewing it and chewing it and chewing it. And then he rustled his newspaper.

    5.  Coat. The annoying man was wearing the thickest coat that I have ever seen. It was so thick he probably should have had a seat of it’s own. But it wasn’t so much the coat that annoyed me as the fact that he was wearing his coat. Who wears a coat on a plane? What did he have to hide? Thinking about in now though, I am glad I never found out.

    6.  Fidgeting. As if the rustling and the crumpling and the folding and unfolding and the chewing and the chewing wasn’t enough, he was also a fidgeter. His legs were jigging up and down as if he was on of those wind-up toys. Shame he wasn’t. I’d have put him in reverse and destroyed the mechanism.

    7.  Earplugs. The most annoying thing – yes, all the above were relatively minor – is that he wouldn’t have realised just how annoying he was because he was wearing earplugs. So he didn’t hear any of the crumpling and rustling and folding and unfolding and chewing and jigging. None of it. He just enjoyed the silence. Or maybe he knew how annoying and loud he was which is why he wore earplugs? So he didn’t have to listen to it. That just makes him even more annoying.