Tag: home

7 Reasons That Carrier Bags are Baffling

The carrier bag might seem like a rudimentary bit of kit. Basic, functional, easy to understand. But it isn’t. Carrier bags are, in fact, among the most baffling things known to humankind. And by humankind, I mean me. Here are seven reasons why:

1. Because I Have Hands. People in shops are endlessly, needlessly trying to force carrier bags on me. But I don’t want one most of the time. Often, I’m just buying one or two items. And I don’t need a carrier bag in that circumstance. How many hands does it take to carry a single item? One. How many hands does it take to carry a bag containing a single item? One. So I don’t need a bloody bag, do I? It’s not difficult. And I already have a bag; it’s that thing I’m wearing over my shoulder that looks like a bag. But despite having both hands and bags, I am continually pestered to take the things. And I don’t know why.

2. Because They’re Everywhere. I always try not to take carrier bags, but despite this, my kitchen is full of the things. And every time I go in there, there are more of them. I don’t know how – or when – the rise of the bags began, but they are inexorably usurping our cooking space. We started off, like everyone does, with a bag of bags, and now we have at least a bag of bag of bag of bag of bags. Well, more than one, actually.

3. Because I Don’t Know What To Do With The Things. You might think this is the point where I’m going to make a few humorous and bizarre speculations on what one might do with a glut of carrier bags, but no, I’m not going to do that. This is because I’m totally bewildered and overwhelmed by my surfeit of them. I have no more idea of what to do with all the bags in the kitchen than I would have of what to do with a large, glittery, singing horse called Jemima in my dining room. Less, in fact. Or fewer?

4. Because Of Chavs. It seems that the only people that have any idea of what to do with used carrier bags are chavs. They put them over the seats of their rusty mountain bikes and tie them down to the seat-post. All of them do this. But I have no idea why. It’s not to keep their bottoms dry because they never remove the bag; even after rain. It’s a further level of bafflement.

5. Because They’re Not In The Same Condition I Left Them In. Occasionally, a rare and wondrous event occurs: I realise that I’m going to have to carry some presents to a friend’s house, or I’m going for a walk in the countryside and there might be blackberries to pick, and I find that I will actually need a carrier bag. And then I excitedly perform a brief, joyous dance – a bit like a jig – while singing repeatedly “I’m going to get rid of a bag, I’m going to get rid of a bag…” to the tune of A Life on the Ocean Wave. But when I come to use them, I discover that at least 50% of the bags are torn. But they weren’t torn when I put them into the bag of bag of bag of bag of bag of bags. So what the hell has happened to them in the meantime? Do they fight?

6. Because People Lie About Them. It’s not just that they’re all over my kitchen, mocking and taunting me, and confounding my every attempt to get rid of them that I find them baffling. It’s that people actively lie to us about the things. Don’t use carrier bags, environmentalists tell us; it’s wasteful; a lot of resources are used up in their manufacture; they don’t grow on trees. But this just isn’t true. Carrier bags do grow on trees. I’ve seen them. Just go outside and look at any urban tree and you’ll see the carrier bags growing on it. And we’re obviously using far fewer carrier bags than the trees are producing, because we’re not harvesting them with any regularity. That’s why there’s still a Woolworths bag growing in a tree near my house. Even though they went bust bloody ages ago.

7. Because Of The Holes. We all know why there’s a hole at the top of the bag. It’s to punish people that are stupid enough to try to put baguettes into them. But no one knows why there are holes at the bottom. Are they drainage holes? Is it a government conspiracy to prevent us from moving water about easily? Is it to prevent suffocation of animals, small children and Members of Parliament? Is it to stop me from inflating the things and then bursting them (with hilarious consequences)? Is it just to confuse us? Well, if it is, it’s working.

October 12, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons You Should Tell Your Boss To “Stuff It” And Set Up An Office At Home

Guess what? It’s Saturday. And as is commonplace for such a day, it’s time for Marc and I to hand over the reins again. This week we leave the sofa in the capable hands of French resident Lloyd Burrell. (It’s okay, he’s actually British). In what is a first experience for the 7 Reasons sofa, Lloyd has put it straight behind his desk. You can find out why here. We welcome that. And we welcome Lloyd. Over to him.

If you are like me then working from home has always been one of those big untouchable dreams. But with the advent of the internet, working freelance or going the whole hog and setting up your own business has never been more attainable. Funnily enough my passport to freedom was my office desk. I created an office desk review website where I review home office computer desks and similar office furniture equipment.

If you are thinking of saying “up yours mate” to your boss, but you are having doubts as to whether you should or not, here are 7 reasons you should

1. It beats crack cocaine by long shot. Yes, it will be just the best feeling in the world. You can just let rip, big-time. This is best done in full view of rest of the office so your colleagues can also enjoy the moment, which will actually serve to amplify your pleasure even more. Just think of all those times he’s totally cheesed you off, well now its payback time.

2. To see the look on his face. I could have grouped this in point number one, but I think this one deserves it’s own special mention. You see because you are setting up your own stall, you can go the whole hog. You don’t need a reference from him for another job. You can just drop your load, gloat and enjoy the moment and then its hasta la vista, you never have to set eyes on him again.

3. Slavery is dead. He called it micro-managing. Assigning you tasks to do each day, as if you couldn’t do that yourself based on the assigned priorities, even though he had no idea how long those tasks would take to complete. All that is finito. The ridiculous deadlines, the impossible workload. He’s just going to have to find some other schmuck to prey on.

4. Office politics. Because chucking your job in is actually a double whammy, not only do you get never to see your boss again, this will also be the last time you have to set eyes on your co “worker”. I use the term lightly. You know, the one that has to have her nose in everything you do. The one that only pipes up when people are around so that they can see what a wonderful worker she is. The one that, most of the time, doesn’t know a thing about what she is trying to do but she is very good at looking ‘important’ and making you look like a complete dumb nuts. She will also be history.

5. You won’t have to fake “busy-ness” ever again. You are not the most hard working person that was ever put on God’s earth, so what the hell? Now you can do meaningful things in your work time like surfing the internet, using the telephone for personal calls, going to the toilet for 15 minutes five times in a row, and taking long lunch breaks on a regular basis.

6. Connectedness. Because you are sure that, be it on an intellectual, an emotional or a spiritual level you will connect better with your four legged friend than you would with that ignorant, pathetic, short tempered, foul mouthed, physically repugnant, socially inept, intellectually challenged person/skiver you used to call your boss.

7. Bureacracy. All those procedures and policies that are supposed to make things terribly efficient, make the company more productive and make you more money when in fact it’s just the opposite. It’s all just a sham. You being so passionate and damn good at what you do, all day long you are saying to yourself, “I can’t believe that I work for this (dis)organisation”. Well you don’t have to believe it anymore, because you don’t.

This piece was written from the point of view that your boss is a man, but if it’s a woman – and it’s very possible she could be because there are some real “bossy knickers/bitchy types” out there – these exact same 7 reasons still apply.

September 25, 2010
7 Reasons That Lampshades Are Stupid

1. Dimness. Lampshades dim the light in a room. You knew that already, but no one ever asks why we want to dim the light in a room. Why do we go to the trouble of installing a light and then surround it with a device that hampers its efficacy? We don’t put semi-transparent curtains in front of our televisions or our fingers in our ears when listening to the radio (except for Talksport listeners) so why do we cock up our lighting? Stupid.

2. Heads. Short people are left in charge of putting lampshades up in their own homes. There should be a law against this. I can’t count the number of times that I’ve banged my head on lampshades in the homes of short people, which is probably a good thing as having the number to hand would make me appear weird. However many times it is though, it is too many. I don’t need another hazard to worry about when I’m concentrating on not falling over their child or treading on their dog.

3. Walls. You go to the trouble of selecting a colour scheme for your living room and then, once it is complete you go and hang a lampshade up: A device which changes the colour of everything in the room, turning your white walls rosy, your blue walls turquoise, your yellow walls brown, and your orange walls red (I am using four different lampshades and rooms in that example, not one. There is no need to panic.) The only wall colour that’s impervious to light filtered through a lampshade is black, which means that only the bedrooms of teenage boys and serial killers are safe from their effects.

4. Art. While we’re on the subject of colour, the damned things change the colour of art too. Try appreciating the subtle use of colour in a print of Manet’s Olympia when it’s bathed in a ghastly light filtered through a green paisley lampshade. Ever seen a lampshade in an art gallery? No, of course you haven’t. Well, unless you’re reading this next year, that is, after I have won the Turner Prize with my latest work entitled Stupid Stupid Stupid, which is a photo-montage of a hairless cat wearing a pair of Crocs balancing atop a green lampshade. (I was being deliberately fanciful when I concocted that artwork, but it actually sounds better than Tracey Emin’s Bed).

5. The Planet. Lampshades are killing our planet. If we had no lampshades then we could use lower wattage light bulbs which consume less power. This means that we’d need to produce less electricity, which would be better for the environment. Think about it: lampshades are actually causing us to use more of the planet’s resources than we otherwise would. For what? If we didn’t have lampshades we could probably use the energy we saved to put electrical lights on trees for a couple of weeks every year. Or perhaps not. That would be ridiculous.

6. Cleanliness. While it is oft said that cleanliness is next to godliness (which seems fair enough), it is never said – until now – that cleanliness is next to lampshades. This is for good reason, as one of the things I have observed when banging my head on many of the things is that copious amounts of dust fall from them when I do so. This is because people don’t clean them. They don’t dust them and they don’t hoover them, which means that the lampshade in the dining room – above your dinner – is covered in lots and lots of bits of dead skin. Yum. Now imagine how much you’ll enjoy your meal if a tall person should accidentally bump the lampshade when sitting down to dine, causing dust to fall on your food. Eating it would not only be unhygienic, it would probably be cannibalism. So there you have it: Lampshades cause cannibalism. I bet you weren’t expecting to learn that today.

7. Stupidity. Lampshades are not merely stupid, they also cause stupidity. Here I am wearing mine.

********************UPDATE********************

I have finished my masterpiece. The 2011 Turner Prize will be mine!

August 26, 2010
7 Reasons That The Banging is Probably a Good Thing.

The house next door to us, having stood empty for some time, has finally been sold and my wife and I met the new owners and several of their dogs last weekend. They seem like a nice couple and, not unreasonably, they want to get on with renovating their house before they move in. The builders – unannounced – started work at seven o’clock this morning. They started with a sledgehammer in the bedroom, pounding on the party wall, several inches from our heads. This was a surprise. Still, I always try to see the positive in every situation and, to that end, I decided to write 7 Reasons That The Banging is Probably a Good Thing.

1. Efficiency. My wife always complains that she never gets enough done during the summer holidays but now – as she’s up at seven o’clock, rather than nine – her day will be 12.5% more time-efficient. It’s only day one of the banging, but she’s already accomplished many things in her extra two hours. These include: Swearing like a dock-worker; slamming every door in the house; winning a light-welterweight boxing-match with the sofa (TKO: Round 6) and preventing her husband from murdering a man in a checked-shirt. If the banging continues for more than a week she will probably solve global warming, bring about world peace, organise her shoe-rack and discover a cure for cancer, though experience tells me that one of those suppositions is fanciful.

2. Numbers. The banger, bangs steadily and rhythmically in sixes, leaving a six second interval between bursts of hammering. 1-2-3-4-5-6…1-2-3-4-5-6…1-2-3-4-5-6…. I think in sevens, so my numerical horizons are being broadened by the banging. This can only be a good thing, though it is always a relief when our numbers coincide at forty-two. I have taken to celebrating every forty-second bang by growling like a walrus and bellowing, “SHUT UP YOU BASTARD!”.

3. Discovery. As I wound the duvet tightly around my head, to lessen the sound of the banging, I discovered a lump between duvet and cover. On further investigation, it turned out to be a missing purple sock. So now I know where the missing socks go. They’re in my duvet cover. At last, an age-old mystery solved, all thanks to the banging. I also found an orange sock that I didn’t recognise: Feel free to email me if it belongs to you.

4. Décor. The banging isn’t just improving the house next door. It’s improving ours too. We were never entirely sure if the framed Japanese print above the fireplace in our bedroom was the right way up, and we both had opposing views on whether it was. Now that it’s lying on the floor though, with its frame shattered into a thousand pieces, it will no longer be a bone of contention and we’ll have a more harmonious marriage as a result. Yay! Thank you, banging.

5. You. I do a lot of my best creative thinking while lying in bed. If it weren’t for the banging, you’d have been reading something rather more considered and rational right now like 7 Reasons That The Age of Enlightenment Was Anything But, or 7 Reasons That France Should Invade The Vatican but, as a result of the pervasive, over-bearing din that is currently preventing me from pursuing any logical thought, or using the toilet (though you don’t really need to know about that), you’re reading about the banging instead. So we’re all benefiting from it.

6. Comparison. Another unexpected benefit was that the unremitting cacophony of the banging, when combined with the sound-baffling properties of my duvet-turban, and the low, wailing sound that I was emitting made listening to Nicky Campbell on 5Live Breakfast almost tolerable. I didn’t even want to punch him.

7. The Relief. The wave of domestic-serenity and abject calm that washed over our home when the banging stopped at eleven o’clock was indescribable. The euphoria I felt at the cessation of the tumult was almost worth having endured the prior four hours of torture for. And that was my opinion until 11:20am, when the banging started again.*

*Coming soon: 7 Reasons That The Punishment for Killing Builders Should be a Stern Look and a Cursory Slap on the Wrist, M’Lud.

August 5, 2010
7 Reasons to Make Your own Pizza

Making your own pizza is amazing. It’s fun, produces tasty results, and is a more self-satisfying activity than cooking almost anything else, no matter how complicated or tasty. Here are seven reasons to make your own pizza.

1. Environment. If you make your own pizza, then chances are that you’ll be doing it in your own home. This is good. Your own home is nicer than visiting your local takeaway and you probably won’t see a fight there. You also won’t see overweight couples attired in sportswear eating something unidentifiable from a polystyrene box, and there’ll be little chance of witnessing kebab-meat rotating on a pole, which will prevent nightmares. You can order a pizza by phone, of course, but then a moped just takes it to someone else’s house instead. Someone in New Earswick (we have no idea where this is either) gets all of our pizzas. It’s a reciprocal arrangement; we get all of their taxis. Anyway, I digress; not having to visit a takeaway to enjoy a pizza at home will make you feel ever so slightly smug.

2. Bonding. Making pizzas is something that you and your partner can do together. You can also make pizzas with children, who seem to find the whole experience very enjoyable indeed. They’ll have loads of fun putting the ingredients on top of the pizza and, however they arrange it, it will always resemble something rude, which will give you a laugh. Of course, you won’t be able to share the joke with them, and being in on the joke always makes people feel smug.

3. Healthy. Because you’re choosing your own ingredients, your pizza can be healthy. The total cheese content can be limited to a few slices of Buffalo mozzarella, rather than coming loaded with plastic-y processed cheese, more salt than you would expect to find in a minor ocean, and weird globules of fat sitting on top of it. Eating healthy pizza will prolong your life; meaning that you can be smug for longer.

4. Garnish. Rather than the flavourless offerings of the takeaway or the supermarket, your homemade pizza can be topped with herbs from your own garden, which will taste fresh and great. Using herbs from your own garden will elevate you to a whole new level of smuggery: You may even begin to pronounce herbs, ‘erbs, which will propel you serenely across the line between being merely smug and being a smug git.

5. Cost. The ingredients for a home-made pizza cost far less than buying a pre-made pizza from a supermarket or takeaway. And eventually you can spend the money you’ve saved on a yurt, a folding bicycle, a chimenea, orange trousers or any other must-have accoutrement that takes your fancy.

6. Dough. If you have a bread-maker, you can also make your own dough really easily. You can make it with brown or wholemeal flour, instead of the ubiquitous white stuff and you can also spin it around your head and generally hurl it about your kitchen, while pretending to be Italian. This is more fun than almost anything. David Cameron has a bread-maker.

7. Self-Sufficiency. A pizza-topping can be constructed from many ingredients that you can grow in your garden. And if you get a buffalo, you’ll be almost entirely self-sufficient. Anyone know how to milk one of these?

August 3, 2010
7 Reasons That the Summer 2010 Lakeland Catalogue is Amazing

The Lakeland summer 2010 catalogue only arrived at our house yesterday. I don’t know how I’ve survived the early part of the summer without it. It provides us all with a glimpse into the future. In fact, it’s amazing. Here are seven reasons why.

1. The Dishwasher Smellkiller. This amazing device kills dishwasher odours stone-dead. I’ve never used one before, so the inside of my dishwasher must stink to high-heaven. I’ve always foolishly assumed that the only way to remove smells effectively is to sterilise the cause of them. And the only device I have that’s capable of sterilising things on a large scale is my dishwasher. And I can’t very well put my dishwasher into that, can I? But now the people at Lakeland have solved the problem of pungent sterile environments with the dishwasher smellkiller. They’re amazing, they think of everything.

2. Improved: Fridge & Freezer Defroster. It’s not just a fridge and freezer defroster; it’s an improved fridge and freezer defroster! I feel like a caveman. This may surprise or appal you, but I’ve been defrosting my freezer by just turning the power off and wandering away from it. I must be backwards.

3. The Metallic Shelf Liner. Because nothing in your kitchen will say homely and wholesome more than lining your cupboards with a detailed industrial diamond plate metal texture. It’s what Mad Max would do. It’s repositionable too, enabling you to move it about within your cupboards, making it both stylish and fun.

4. The Three Pan Protectors. Sometimes, due to space issues, you may be forced to stack pans inside each other. With a heavy heart and nagging conscience, you’ll place a pan inside another pan, knowing, just knowing, the devastation that your reckless action may cause, but wait…just wait! The good people of Lakeland have the solution to all pan-damage. They will provide you with three machine washable pan protectors for only £4.99! And they don’t resemble sanitary towels in the slightest.

5. In The Bedroom. There comes a point, later in the catalogue, when the lettering changes to pink and the “in the bedroom” section begins. I must say, I felt a frisson of excitement when I saw this. Ah, at last, the bedroom. What wondrous, sensual gadgets do Lakeland have in store for the bedroom? The Lakeland goose-feather-erotic-tickler? The Lakeland hand-held telescopic five-way mirror? The Lakeland ambient cellulite-flattering nightlight? No. More unexpected than any of those things. Brace yourself. It’s the Lakeland padded trouser hanger.

It’s not a device for hanging your padded trousers on (I fervently hope). It’s a padded device for hanging your ordinary trousers on. Because they need insulating from the harsh, cold, metallic bars of the conventional trouser-hanger. Otherwise, what are we? Savages?

6. The Perfect Tear Kitchen Roll Holder. It’ll banish ‘unravelling roll syndrome’ from your kitchen forever. I know I feel relieved. The catalogue picture demonstrates how it works: You just tear off the metal knob at the top with one hand, and that will put a stop to the problem of kitchen-roll-unravelling. It’s a wonder of the modern age. There’s even testimony. Frances S of London has “…suggested it to many friends…” presumably before they attempted to drown themselves in their soup, but wait…Frances S isn’t the stupefying dullard that she might initially appear to be, as she goes on to reveal that, “…you really can tear off one sheet, while juggling pans, babies, cats or whatever else you need to deal with.” Wow! She’s awesome! Frances S is a cat-and-baby juggler. Who wouldn’t pay to see that? I wish they’d put a picture of that in.

7. The Over-Door Storage Rack. “Oh No!” I can hear you thinking. “He’s going to make fun of the over-door storage rack“. Not bloody likely. After all, the giant has one of those in his kitchen, as this lady discovered.

And that’s it. I’ve reached seven reasons. And I didn’t even get the chance to mention the castor cups which “stop unsightly dints” or the willow stair basket. I’ve left the pictures so that you may marvel at them both.

July 27, 2010
7 Reasons to get an Archipod

This, in case you haven’t seen one before, is an archipod. It’s a home office that you can put in your garden. This is why you need one.

1. External Aesthetics. Look at it. Just look at it! It’s amazing. It’s a pod that looks like a giant beehive. It’s got a door that opens upwards like a DeLorean or a gull-wing Mercedes or a spaceship or something. It has a porthole. A porthole! It looks like the coolest thing in the world; the only things that could possibly improve it would be a searchlight and a diamond-tipped funnel made of titanium.

2. Internal Aesthetics. Inside, it looks like a cross between a Japanese capsule hotel, a Kubrickian spacecraft and an igloo. It’s got a porthole there too! And a semi-circular command station…er…desk. Did I mention how cool it looks?

3. Name. It’s called an archipod, which is a portmanteau word consisting of archi from architect and pod, which comes from pod. But look at what else it contains. It says ipod in the middle of it. This means that all Apple-obsessives, or most-of-my-friends, as I call them, will believe that it’s the most desirable thing in the world; more desirable than a suit of armour; more desirable than a yacht; more desirable than a Fender Telecaster; more desirable than Jennifer Aniston. It even looks like something Apple would make. But I want one too. So it must be better than anything by Apple. And it is, because it’s an archipod!

4. Price. I have absolutely no idea how much an archipod costs. But if they were asking for all of the money in the world I’m fairly certain that someone would have told me, and they haven’t, so it’s clearly a bargain that’s worth every penny.

5. Roundness. Now, I have to be honest: It’s not totally spherical, and that’s something of a disappointment. But if it was a pure sphere, it might roll away, and then you’d have to ask the neighbours if they’d seen your archipod and they’d say, “You have an archipod? Wow, that’s so cool!”. And you’d have to explain that no, you’d lost your archipod, and then you’d be the cretin who lost the archipod (coolest thing in the world) and you would become a social pariah; an object of ridicule; a veritable leper; the neighbourhood reject, cast out of decent society into a hellish solitude of eternal archipod-loss-induced squalor, damnation, misery and…sorry, I digress. Anyway, that the floor is flat is probably a good thing as the archipod will always be where you left it. The rest of it is round, which means that, unlike conventional offices, you can’t have a notice-board covered with dreary “motivational” posters on the wall and no one can put a half-dead pot plant in the corner, because there aren’t any. Corners that is. I have loads of half-dead pot plants if anyone needs one,

6. Foil. The archipod is insulated with foil and to many crazy people, this foil-lining would be seen as a desirable feature that would stop the gamma-rays affecting their brains. It may currently appear that I am one of them but I can assure you that the only things affecting my brain at the moment are the archipod and an espresso – a double archipod with sugar and a biscotti.

7. Inspiration. Here at 7 Reasons we know that there are always seven reasons for everything, but I can’t think of a seventh reason to get an archipod. This is because I’m writing this in a rectangular room full of books and a cat. If I were writing in cooler and more inspirational environs such as…let me see…an archipod, for example, I’d be able to think of one easily. Oh, there you go, that’s the seventh reason to get one. That’s the wondrous power of the archipod: Even thinking of one provides inspiration. Right, I’m off to put my family on ebay now* and to have a lie down.**

*Details on how you can contribute to the Buy The 7 Reasons Team An Archipod Fund will be available soon.

**There’s no particular reason to mark that, I just don’t feel that I’ve said archipod enough yet. Archipod. Archipod! IT’S THE ARCHIPOD! There, that’s better.

May 28, 2010
7 Reasons These Phrases Just Don’t Make Sense

1. Get On Like A House On Fire. So this means you supposedly get on really well with someone. Marc and I, for example, get on like a house on fire. Unfortunately, if a house is on fire, it is going to burn to the ground. Soon there will be no house. There will be ashes. It will be the end. So really, if people get on like a house on fire, it actually means the relationship won’t last. So like I say, Marc and I get on like a house on fire.

2. Keep Your Eyes Peeled. Eyes are not like onions. Or carrots. Or potatoes. In fact they are not like any food substance. Unless we are talking sheep’s eyes. But we are not. We are talking about human eyes. And how silly it is to tell someone to keep an eye out for something by encouraging them to get the peeler out of the drawer.

3. Bringing Home The Bacon. This is fine if you’re a butcher, but if you are a banker or a fireman or a solicitor or a professional ferret tickler, you don’t want to have to keep bringing bacon home every night. Particularly as the ferret will probably eat it. ‘Bringing Home The Money’ makes far more sense. Especially if you’ve just robbed Barclays.

4. Drink Like A Fish. Obviously we all know that this means to drink a lot. The correct phrase, however, should be ‘Drink Like A Saltwater Fish’. Freshwater fish, unlike their saltwater friends, do not drink water. They absorb it. Why does this matter? Well if you know that someone who drinks like a saltwater fish is coming round to the party, you can give them a glass of fizz. If, on the other hand, you know they drink like a freshwater fish, well you can run them a bath.

5. Saved By The Bell. No one, in the history of the world, has ever been saved by a bell. A bell is an inanimate object and thus not able to save people. If, for example, you were shot at but the bullet ricocheted off a bell, well you wouldn’t have been saved by the bell you would have been saved by your wise positioning. Or the sniper’s inaccuracy.

6. What A Load Of Codswallop. We use this to describe our 7 Reasons posts quite a lot. It means, ‘what a load of nonsense’ of course. But it shouldn’t. By my calculations it should mean, ‘what a load of fishes punch’ or ‘what a load of fishes whack’. Since when did ‘fishes whack’ mean ‘nonsense’?

7. It’s Cold Enough To Freeze The Balls Off A Brass Monkey. No it’s not. It’s never cold enough to do that. It’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a 7 Reasons co-founder, maybe. But not off a brass monkey. And while we are on the subject, has anyone ever seen a brass monkey with balls? Or is that the point? Have they all been frozen off? Okay, you’ll have to disregard this reason. It actually makes perfect sense.

May 25, 2010
7 Reasons Not to Have a Dinner Party

1. The bad-egg. At any dinner party, at least one person will behave badly and annoy all of the other guests. It’s always a man. Often it’s me.

2. Multi-tasking. Women can multi-task – they demonstrate this by talking during films. This means that they approach both hosting and cooking for a dinner party with confidence, which makes it all the more tragic when your tearful hostess returns from the kitchen bearing a foul-smelling tray containing something black (possibly the charred remains of a flan) and a bowl of something green and unidentifiable (no idea). If you want to see a grown-woman cry, you don’t have to go to a dinner party. You can just hide her chocolate – which is a lot easier.

3. Candles. There are always candles on the table at dinner parties but no one knows why. I don’t want to singe my arm hair every time I pour some wine or pass the salt. Why would you want to put a fire on the table?

4. Wine. Guests always bring wine with them, and it’s always the wrong one – a Barolo when the main course is a delicate fish dish, or a New Zealand sauvignon blanc to go with lamb. Why can’t guests just do something useful and bring dessert with them? Or not come?

5. Cheesecake. A plain, unadorned cheesecake is one of the best desserts ever. I don’t want cheesecake made with Baileys, I don’t want cheesecake made with fruit, nor do I want cheesecake made with chocolate. What I would like is cheesecake made with cheese. And cake. Don’t tell me that I’m getting a cheesecake for dessert and then bring me something made with gooseberries and covered in sauce! Why can no one hosting a dinner party resist cocking up a cheesecake? Is it the law?

6. Children. I was brought up in a house that often hosted dinner parties – at least one a month – but I don’t think that my siblings or I even caught sight of one until we were eighteen years old. No one has ever successfully explained why children are banished from dinner parties to me. Is it because of the candles?

7. Restaurants. There are places where a group of people can sit around a table and eat wonderful food – made to a higher standard than they could manage themselves – they’re called restaurants. The diners don’t have to get up to fetch courses, drinks or cutlery and they don’t end up with candle-wax on their carpet. You can choose what you want to eat and drink rather than have your courses compromised by your friends bizarre and varied dietary requirements, children don’t have to be hidden – they can be taken with you or looked after by a babysitter – and you don’t have to wash-up afterwards. I sincerely hope they catch on.

March 15, 2010
7 Reasons to Paint Your Front Door Orange

1. Be unique. No one has an orange front door. Have you ever seen one? No, nobody has. Having an orange front door would mark you out as an individual – like wearing a pointy-hat or carrying a piano-accordion, but less embarrassing.

2. Annoy the neighbours. Painting your front door orange would annoy your neighbours. Their houses would be completely overshadowed by your own, which would become the dominant feature of your street. When giving directions to their own home, your neighbours would have to refer to yours, “You can’t miss it, it’s two houses down from the one with the orange door…”. They would seethe, inwardly, every time they mentioned it, and perhaps frown too.

3. View. Your house would have the best view of your street, as it would be the only one that you definitely wouldn’t be able to see the orange door from.

4. Visibility. Have you ever got drunk and become lost on the way home? I have. Not totally lost – I’m at home now, but lost enough to find myself on the other side of town at 5am heading in the wrong direction – possibly towards Budapest. With an orange door you’ll at least have a fighting chance: If you are able to find your street, you’ll be able to find your house.

5. Friends. It won’t just be you that can find your house. Your friends will be able to find it more easily too. They’ll come and visit more often. The exasperatedly-intoned phrase “I know it’s one of the ones down here on the left” would be heard no more and would probably be replaced with the phrase “Good god! There it is”. You’ll be more popular.

6. Drunk people. It’s a well known fact that alcohol lowers inhibitions, so your curiously coloured door would probably attract the attention of gregarious drunk people. This is great, as drunk people can be fun. They’re often generous and happy to share their tipple of choice with others, usually after declaring their undying love and friendship. So now your friends will come and see you regularly, and drunk people will visit you too, probably bringing beer with them. That’s a party. Woohoo!

Dutch People

7. Holland. It’s a well known fact that Dutch people are crazy about the colour orange, so you’d probably be inundated with your local Dutch population. Dutch people are fantastic. They’re tall, which is more space-efficient than being fat, and they speak many languages, making them brilliant at communicating with your friends and the drunk people at your constant house-party. Also, if the national stereotype is even remotely true, they will probably have drugs with them. And pornography. So, with the booze, the drugs, the drink and the porn, you’ll soon find that you aren’t just having a party, you’re having an orgy. In fact, you’re a bit like Hugh bloody Hefner*! And all because you painted your front door orange.

*Our legal team has asked us to point out that Hugh bloody Hefner does not have an orange door.

March 9, 2010