Tag: Hate

Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Everyone Should Eat Marmite

In the last few weeks we have been inundated with phone calls, emails, faxes, carrier pigeons and one – entirely unrelated – message wrapped around a brick. ‘Where is he?’ they’ve been asking. ‘Is he coming back?’ ‘Is he as beautiful as his writing?’ All of this hyperbole meant that we couldn’t post on Tuesday.* (And Marc was at Knitting Club** which didn’t help either). So the only way we felt we could apologise for that faux-pas adequately was to give you what you want. Who you want. So yesterday Marc and I set off to get him. As it turned out we didn’t have to go far. He was waiting outside. In the rain. Unshaven and looking desperate. So we brought him in (me), dried him off (Marc) and knitted him a new jumper (Marc). And now we’re pleased to say he’s back in top form. And more importantly hers back on the sofa. Ladies and gentlemen, would you please raise your Marmite jars to the perrenialist of all our perennial guest writers, Mr Richard O’Hagan.

After Richard had been bathed and shaved by Marc, he was ready to write.

There’s no lead in to this one, no drop paragraph or anything like that. Eating Marmite is so obviously the correct thing to do:

1. Tipple. It is made from beer. Do I really need to say more than that? Marmite is the yeast that is left after beer is made (roughly speaking). Anything that is made from beer has to be good, right? In fact, do you really need another six reasons?

2. All Man. It got its makers accused of promoting homosexuality. Yes, really. Back in the early 2000s, they ran an ad campaign where a male lifeguard was seen giving the kiss of life to a male swimmer. In the week that it was first shown, the manufacturers received an angry letter from a man who accused them of promoting homosexuality. For the avoidance of doubt, Marmite will not make you a homosexual unless you were one in the first place.

3. Aesthetics. It comes in a distinctive jar. The only thing that looks like a Marmite jar is a marmite, the French cooking pot after which it is named (again, for the avoidance of doubt, Marmite isn’t French). If you are eating Marmite, no casual observer can be in any doubt as to what it is you are eating. That jar says, “I am a Marmite eater, and proud of it”.

4. Something For Everyone. They make special versions of it. As well as regular Marmite, you have been able to eat Champagne Marmite, Guinness Marmite, Marmite XO and even Marston’s Pedigree Marmite. Do you get special versions of peanut butter? Or strawberry jam? No. Further evidence of Marmite’s superiority.

5. Roasts. You can add it to gravy. If you want to give your gravy an extra kick, just add a spoonful of Marmite. Not only is this tip suitable for vegetablists (Marmite is vegetablist friendly), you try adding marmalade to gravy and see what you get.

6. Cheddar. You can add it to cheese. Ever had a raspberry jam and cheddar sandwich? Thought not. I’ll save you the trouble. It is horrible. Cheddar and Marmite, on the other hand, is a marriage made in heaven – so much so that you can now buy Marmite Cheddar.

7. Greed. My wife doesn’t like it. Thus ensuring that there is all the more for me.***

Now go forth, eat Marmite, and enrich your lives.

*Many thanks to Alex Clement-Meehan for retweeting nothing anyway. She’s obsessed.

**100% true.

***7 Reasons would like to apologise for the contradiction that appears in reason seven. Perhaps the title of this post should have been ‘7 Reasons Why Everyone Apart From Mrs O’Hagan Should Eat Marmite’?

August 6, 2011
7 Reasons That I Hate The Mayor Of Vilnius

Unless you have been on the moon for the past few days (and perhaps even if you have) you will have seen this video of the mayor of Vilnius keeping the cycle lanes clear in his city by crushing illegally parked vehicles with a tank. This video has been everywhere. And it’s annoyed me. A lot. Here are 7 Reasons that I hate the mayor of Vilnius.

1. The Mayor Of Vilnius Is A Liar. The message in the video is that if you park in the cycle lane, the mayor of Vilnius will crush your car with a tank. But he doesn’t have a tank. Look at it. Look at it! It’s got wheels and there’s a distinctive lack of a huge gun at the front to shoot things with, tracks and other tank-y accoutrements that are the universally acknowledged signifiers that the vehicle is a tank. That means that it’s not a tank. What it is, is an armoured personnel carrier. What it is not, is a tank. The mayor of Vilnius is fibbing.

2. The Mayor Of Vilnius Is In The Least Convincing Video Ever. I have seen theatre sets that look less staged than this video. I have seen ham actors less hammy than the acting in this video. In fact, I’ve seen entire pig farms less hammy than the acting this video. The man that gets “his” car crushed is the single worst actor that I have ever seen, and I’ve seen Piers Brosnan. The video wouldn’t be less believable if it was narrated by Jeffrey Archer. No it would. But still, it’s not a convincing video.

3. The Mayor Of Vilnius Hates The Poor. During the video, there are three examples of illegal parking. In the first two, a Rolls-Royce and a Ferrari are illegally parked and are not run over by the mayor of Vilnius in an armoured personnel carrier. A third illegally parked car (a knackered old Mercedes worth almost nothing) is run over by the mayor of Vilnius in an armoured personnel carrier. What sort of message does this send? Poor people of Vilnius: The mayor of Vilnius is after your cars. Run (drive?) for your lives, he’s got a grudge against the impoverished and an armoured personnel carrier and he’s not afraid to use it! The message it sends out to the wealthy is somewhat different though. Rich people of Vilnius: Feel free to park wherever you like. Sit back, relax, and eat a diamond or two while you enjoy the spectacle of a man menacing the poor with a “tank”. This is not a nice message to send out.

4. The Mayor Of Vilnius Is The Wrong Man For The Job. People like to have sensible, solid, reliable citizens as their mayors. Qualities that they don’t like in a mayor are publicity-hunger and buffoonery. The evidence for that is clear: The population of the world is 7 billion people and the population of London is 7.7 million people. This means that by far the vast majority of the planet’s population choose to live in the world, which is outside London. If they wanted a buffoon for a mayor, they’d live in London where, incidentally, everything within in the cycle lane is mown down by taxis. The people have spoken and we don’t want buffoons.

5. The Mayor Of Vilnius Is Missing The Point. Why does it even matter if people are parking in the cycle lanes there? Judging by the film, it would appear that Vilnius is the world’s emptiest city. The mayor of Vilnius seems to be some sort of latter day Omega Man cruising the deserted streets in his armoured personnel carrier desperately searching for signs of life. The only person using the cycle lanes in Vilnius is the mayor of Vilnius. Why not use the empty road? No one will ever know.

6. The Mayor Of Vilnius Isn’t Even A Proper Mayor. He’s obviously the mayor by default because he’s the only citizen of Vilnius. Look what happens after he crushes the Mercedes: He has to stop and clean up the glass. He’s the parking enforcement officer, the military, the mayor and the street cleaner all rolled into one. If the mayor of Vilnius became embroiled in a corruption scandal – a quite common occurrence in local government – he’d end up having to arrest himself, but that would be okay, because he’d be able to pay himself a bribe and get the whole thing swept under the carpet. Then he’d be free to win the next mayoral election by a margin of one. Again. Doesn’t the man have any ambition? Why doesn’t he enact a constitutional monarchy and appoint himself King of Vilnius? Emperor? God of Vilnius! If you’re self-appointed, think big!

7. It All Boils Down To Envy. It looks like fun. I want a go.

August 5, 2011
7 Reasons To Give Someone A Hug

Did you know it was National Hug Day today? If you are reading this in the USA then you probably did. It’s quite big over there apparently. In the UK though, it has failed to catch on. In many ways 7 Reasons are indicative of this sad situation. We are more the high-fiving kind than the hugging variety. Today that changes though. Today we hug. And you should too. Here’s why:

1. Tactical. You’re waiting for a tube, a train or a bus. And you’re not alone. There are dozens and dozens of others doing exactly them same. So many in fact that there is no way you are all going to get on. There is no way you are hanging about for another thirty minutes for the next one though, so you need a plan. What will get you on that tube, train or bus ahead of everyone else? Save for a machete, it’s hugging. If you start hugging everyone in that queue their urge to get on that next tube, train or bus will begin to diminish. So much so that they’ll be very happy to let you get on and then wait in the pouring rain. Just in case hugging is only the start.

2. Approach. We’ve all been in the position of seeing someone we quite like the look of. Someone we’d like to say hello to. Someone we’d like to become friends with. Maybe more than friends if you are particularly horny. But one thing always stops us. We aren’t quite sure what to say. While ‘Hello’ always sounds like a promising opening, if you can’t back it up with something else you are opening yourself up to look like a lemon. You wish that they would just come over and talk to you. That would be fine. The problem is, they are full of the same doubts that you are. They don’t really know what to say either. Which is why you both walk on, never to see each other again. It’s an opportunity missed. If this sounds like you, you need to bring out the hug. The next time you see someone you like, just walk up to them and hug them. If they don’t respond, step away and look shocked, “Oh my goodness!” you exclaim, “I am so sorry. I thought you were someone else.” They’ll understand. If they do respond though, just keep that hug going. No talking will ever be required.

3. Annoy Uncle Marc. If you know one thing about Uncle Marc it’s that he doesn’t want a hug. He doesn’t want a hug from you and he certainly doesn’t want a hug from your children. He especially doesn’t want a hug from the child that just spilled milk all down her t-shirt and then pooed on the living room floor. Get that child to hug him. His face will be priceless.

4. Warmth. It’s easily done. You are walking along the banks of an icy river when a swan starts attacking you. In your scramble to fight back you end up in the icy waters. In a bid to avoid death and pneumonia, you make it back onto dry land. Keeping your freezing and soaking wet clothes on will do you no favours, so you quickly strip and protect your dignity with a swan’s wing. You then go in search of warmth. Bodily warmth. Fifty yards ahead you spy a man and woman out for a walk. Naked, you run towards them. They are too startled by the sight to move out of your way, leaving you to jump into their arms and regain that much needed heat.

5. Strength. What better way to show small children that you’re far more powerful than they are than to give them a bear-hug? And, as you wrap you powerful, grown-up arms around them and squeeze the very air from their lungs, they’ll be really impressed. Then they’ll file it away in their memory and return the favour when you’re an old man which, as no one ever wants to hug an old man, will be a welcome event for you. Even if it does lead to your first incontinent episode.

6. Surprise. Rather unfortunately you have just bumped into the side of someone’s Mercedes. It’s not all your fault, the brake on your skateboard fell off before you reached the top of the hill. There’s still damage though. To the car. And your Sony MiniDisc. The driver looks furious. He’s getting out of the car and his moustache is quivering with rage. You have a choice. A) Skate away leaving him and the pieces of your Sony MiniDisc on the floor. B) Apologize profusely, saying you’ll pay for the damage. C) Simply give him a big old squeeze. The chances are he’ll be expecting you to do either of the first two, so by hugging him you momentarily disarm him. Once this is done, you can apologize or skate away. Whichever it is, he’ll be standing in the middle of the road wondering what the hell just happened. By the time he has realized, you’ll be hugging some other bloke half a mile down the road.

7. Fun. I was once told that I hug like a murderer as I favour the one-handed hug (leaving my left hand free). Obviously, at 7 Reasons (.org) we’re not going to encourage you to use your free hand to stab the person that you’re hugging. That would be wrong* and potentially hazardous to you, should you be foolish enough to use a knife with too long a blade. At least you’d die in someone else’s arms though. But no, what you should use your free hand for is to affix a note to their back saying “I stole this coat from orphans” or “Please kiss me”. That’s the sort of thing that makes hugging worthwhile and rewarding. Who wants a hug?

*Not to mention the consternation that it would cause our legal representatives.

January 21, 2011
7 Reasons That Chugging Doesn’t Work On Me

Chugging: I hate it. Being chugged is a loathsome experience and I can’t help thinking ill of chuggers either. And their chuggery-pokery just doesn’t work on me. Here’s why.

1. It’s Always Me. Anyone who claims that they are always targeted by chuggers might come across as somewhat paranoid or persecutional. But, the fact is, that I am always targeted by chuggers. Literally, every last damned one of them will see me coming and try to stop me on the street. Other people seem to be able to walk along the street unmolested. My wife, for example, rarely gets stopped, but I can’t walk down a busy shopping street without having to fight off swarms (no idea what the collective noun for chuggers is. A horde? A phalanx? A menace?) of them. Do I have a kind face? Do I look gullible? Do I look like Danny Wallace? No, none of those things (well perhaps the second) but, despite this, Saturday afternoon shopping for me is like running the gauntlet, but with fewer Romans, and more laminated id cards on lanyards.

2. Time. The assumption that my time isn’t important is infuriating. They’re trying to steal my time. And I like time. I don’t have enough of it already, so I’m very protective of the time that I have. If I’m wandering around town with some friends looking relaxed and happy, then that’s because it’s time I’ve set aside for wandering around town with my friends looking relaxed and happy. It’s not an indicator that my time would be better spent talking to a chugger about cancer for ten minutes before we both agree that it’s probably a bad thing and I give them all my money via direct debit over the next five years. Nor is it an indicator that I’m not doing anything important. I am. The assumption that I’ve nothing better to do than talk (or, as they prefer; listen, nod and agree) with someone I don’t know about a cause that they’re interested in is just arrogant.

3. The Guilt-Trip. A woman signing people up to an environmental charity once said to me, as I rushed past her on the way to meet my wife for lunch, “Don’t you care about the environment?”. This was brilliant. I could reply “no”, and appear to be a borderline sociopath who cared not one whit about something fundamental to human existence, or I could reply “yes”, and leave myself open to her pitch. Because that’s what she wanted. She wanted use my innate sense of social responsibility and congenital niceness to trap me into a dialogue with her. I had to think on my feet. “Don’t you care about my wife?”, I replied. This worked. She just gazed at me, perplexed, which allowed me to continue my journey*. But why should I be made to feel guilty just because my agenda is different and I don’t want to stop and sign up to her cause?

4. Politeness. I’m a well-brought-up young man. And chugging attempts to ruthlessly exploit that to deprive me of time and money. I was raised to be nice to people. To stop and listen to them when they are talking to me and certainly not to ignore someone and walk away when they’re addressing me. But chugging forces me to do that. This makes me feel like a bad person. Not as bad as Hitler, obviously, but not as good as I would like to think I am, which is sort of a happy medium between Mother Theresa and the Pope. And by a happy medium, I don’t mean Derek Ocorah, he seems like a right misery. I hate having to interrupt people in order to go about my business. It makes me feel awful.

5. Passion. There’s no doubt that many chuggers are passionate about the causes they are trying to sign people up to. But that doesn’t mean that I’m passionate about that cause. And that doesn’t make me a bad person. If I don’t want to sign up to a lifetime of Red Cross junk mail, email or any other form of spam that doesn’t mean that I don’t care about medicine or disaster relief. What it does mean is that perhaps my money and time (both of which are finite resources) go to other – equally worthy – causes that I prefer. What I shouldn’t have to do is justify that decision to a stranger every time I go into town to buy some light bulbs or a new wok.**

6. It’s Cynical. Chuggers are earning money to sign people up to their causes. They’re not being paid commission, this is a myth. But no one would get paid a wage if they weren’t effectively raising money for the causes that they represent. So while they’re attempting to make me feel guilty for not signing up to (which they tend not to recognise is a wholly different thing to not caring about) their causes, they’re profiting from the transaction. Their attempts to sign me up aren’t wholly altruistic yet they’re represented as being so. It causes me to wonder whether they genuinely believe in what they’re trying to sign me up to, or whether they’re cynically attempting to exploit me to hit a performance target.

7. It Taints My View Of The Charity. In fact, it makes me think uncharitable thoughts about charitable causes. I love Amnesty International, I think it’s a brilliant organisation, but will they be getting any money from me? No. Because I’m the sort of person who won’t support organisations whose practices I disagree with. I’m not saying I definitely would have donated money to AI had they not attempted to sign me up twelve times one Wednesday afternoon (which, ironically, may be an infringement of my human rights), but I certainly won’t be doing so now. I won’t be signing up to any morally reprehensible pro-oppression organisations to spite Amnesty though, that would be taking things too far, and the WI seem to be getting on fine without my help, but Amnesty have insured that they won’t be getting any of my money. Their chugging has been counter-productive.

*I could have substituted any phrase for “my wife” as long as I’d answered the question with a question. It’s foolproof. “The Gruffalo”, “Mathematical Biology”, “my underpants”,”The Moon”,”Cheryl Cole”. All of those would have worked equally well and would have allowed me to make my escape. Try it yourself.

**Which is not very often, I don’t go through an abnormal amount of woks. I go through a regular amount of woks.

January 13, 2011
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