Tag: Humor

7 Reasons Not To Have A Contact Form On Your Website

Okay, up above these words in the menu bar, there’s a page called Contact Us, and we’re beginning to believe that it’s more trouble than it’s worth. In fact, we’re beginning to think we should get rid of it altogether, and we’re coming round to the view that everyone else should too. Now we’re not self-appointed web experts or internet gurus; we’re humourists. If you have a website yourself, we can only advise you to free yourself from the tyranny of the contact form based on our own experience. And, from our experience of having one of the damned things, here are seven reasons to get rid of it.

1. You’ll Have A More Manageable Penis. One of the most frequent things that people use the contact form for is to attempt to sell us penis enlargement pills. And by frequent, I mean we get a lot of penis enlargement offers. In fact, if we don’t visit our inbox for a while it ends up chock-full of enlarged penises. We aren’t really interested in any of these offers (I have a child now, so I probably won’t even need mine for the next eighteen years or so), but it’s a lot of stuff to wade through and ignore. Well, I say ignore, I’m assuming that my writing partner Jon’s ignoring them too. Perhaps he isn’t, though. Perhaps Jon’s buying penis enlargement pills from everyone that’s offering them. It could be that since we’ve been running 7 Reasons, Jon has purchased so many of these pills that his penis has become a major Kent landmark. Maybe ruddy-faced locals in smocks are staring at his chemically-enhanced appendage right now and pointing up at it with awe. Perhaps it’s on Google Earth. Who knows? One thing’s for sure, it’ll be a major hazard to air travellers as the other thing we get offered almost every day is Viagra.

2. You’ll Get To Read Less Gibberish. When the contact form isn’t trying to enlarge our penises, it sends other stuff too. It sends gibberish. Most things containing the subject heading “7 Reasons Contact Form” look like someone just pressed many keys at once. Frequently, we get the message that “sdkjfkl;sdfjsjsdk;” wrote “sjklsdhfkjsdhfjksdfhsjdfhjlksfsdhthurthw”. This is not helpful. In fact, it’s quite scary that “mgklksfdlgjkhg” writes “mxvnbcxn,bvcxb,mvxc” and “hytfhtyhtfyh” writes “vbnmbmnmbnm” on such a regular basis. Our contact page is fairly dull, but it’s not soporific enough to make this many people doze off on their keyboards while they’re reading it. So perhaps this is just the law of averages. Perhaps one person a day actually falls down dead while looking at our contact form. They’re probably dying when they’re reading other posts too, it’s just that we won’t get to know about that. 7 Reasons could be killing them in their droves: We might be the greatest practitioners of genocide since Pol Pot*. Either that, or – I don’t know – but we only get stuff like this from the contact form, not via email or our comments section.

3. Your Life Will Contain Less Mystery. This morning, via the contact form, we received this question: “When does it start airing?” That’s it. That’s the entire message. But what does it even mean? When does what start airing? Is this an enquiry about my laundry? Is this an enquiry about Jon’s penis? 7 Reasons: The Panel Show? Who knows? Certainly not me, and I don’t want to wake up to a mystery of a morning; I’m not Quincy. I just want to wake up to find that it isn’t raining and that there are coffee beans in the house. I would be able to do that if it weren’t for the contact form.

4. Your Messages Will Go To The Right Person. Above our contact form we clearly direct people that wish to write for us to a different page containing a dedicated email address for guest post submissions. This is a (vain) attempt to try to limit the number of identical submissions we receive about car insurance (purportedly all from different people) and to get them sent directly to Jon – who’s in charge of guest post submissions – rather than to me. He’s more patient than I am. He’s calmer than I am. On receiving his ninth identical offer of a car insurance post in a day, Jon’s veins bulge, he turns red, he emits a sound that is part scream, part bellow and part mating call of a rhinoceros and begins to punch the nearest table or wall. I, on the other hand, don’t take receiving them nearly as well. So there’s no likelihood of these things getting used and we just end up getting rather worked up when we receive them. Well, I do.

5. You’ll Feel Better About Yourself. This is from the contact form:

***** wrote:

Hi

My name is *****.

I would like to ask you if its possible to buy the picture of the lemons in a

high resolution (300ppi 160mm x 200 mm).

And if you have it form a other place can you tell me where?

Greetings *****

This refers to a picture of lemons that – in the same way that approximately 99.99999999% of websites source their pictures – we got from Google Images. There’s no way of replying to this person (that amazingly managed to give us their own name three times during the course of a tiny message) without sounding sarcastic. “Dear *****, we did get it from another place. It is available here. Yours sincerely, the 7 Reasons team” would make us look rather mean.

We’ve also received this:

Do you stock a Thermos type water jug to use on invalids bedside, I can’t find one in cataloues.

That’s just heart-breaking. Could we, in all conscience, send a reply saying “sorry, as a humour website we carry no stock of thermal water jugs, could we tempt you with a mildly Francophobic t-shirt?” No. Of course not. So we either have to spend our time researching random queries from confused people or feel really bad about ourselves.

6. You’ll Hear Less About The Colour Of Hats. The other thing we frequently receive via the cursed contact form are offers of help. Technical help. Traffic driving help. Messages that variously offer to help us “engage strategic initiatives”, “harness value-added solutions”, “integrate visionary partnerships” and “orchestrate bricks-and-clicks infomediaries”. A recent message discoursed for so long about white hat SEO, black hat SEO and grey hat SEO that I almost lost the will to live and – had I been viewing the contact form – I would have been in danger of sending myself a gibberish message with my face. As it was, I began to think about purchasing a hat. What I wasn’t thinking about was taking anyone up on their kind offer to improve our website with their baffling and incomprehensible gobbledygook.

7. You’ll Receive A Better Standard Of Correspondence. Groucho Marx brilliantly and wittily advocated exclusivity when he famously said, “I wouldn’t want to belong to any club that would have me as a member”, and this can be applied to the Contact Form too. Because the contact form makes us too accessible. It’s too easy to get in touch with us. If it were more difficult to get hold of us, then we’d get a better class of correspondence, because the act of having to do a tiny bit of research to find our contact details and paste them into an email program could well cut out the spammers and raise standards. Perhaps the extra time and effort that this will take will cause people to reflect on whether they really need to contact us at all.

It boils down to this: If you have a contact form, it’s a magnet for spam in all its forms: penis-related-spam; gibberish-spam; spam that consists of bizarre utterances from the mad; spam that shouldn’t even be going to you; spam that is just flabbergasting or heartrending in its naivety; spam about hats. The one thing we rarely receive from the contact us form is any sort of meaningful correspondence. That all comes via email or Twitter. We’re going to be brave; we’re going to be bold: We’ve looked at the correspondence we receive via our contact form, and we’re going to disable it. And if you have a website that has one, we recommend you go back through your inbox and have a look at how much worthwhile correspondence you’ve received through it. We’re guessing it’s not as much as you think.

*The level of interest in our latest competition bears this out.

July 18, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Holiday In Bonnie Scotland

Today we welcome back to the 7 Reasons sofa a man who hasn’t plumped up our cushions for quite a while. He’s a man some of you will know as Dr Beat. He’s a man others will know as Percy Jennifer. He’s a man the rest of us know put the ‘best’ into Gillette. That’s right. Ladies and gentleman the waiting is finally over. Back to the sofa, please welcome, Dr Simon Best.

Simon says: It is fast approaching the most popular holidaying month of the year (here in England anyway). Yep, it’s nearly August. Currently there’s a fashion for the ‘staycation’, many people are bored of the Balearics and fed up of Faliraki. For them then, the answer is simple. Go to Scotland. Here are seven reasons you should holiday there, especially if you live in England.

1. It Is Further From France. By sheer accident of geography England is closer to France than Scotland. This is clearly a huge point in Scotland’s favour. Regular readers of 7 reasons will know that the usual occupants of the sofa are no fans of France. One prefers Belgium and the other would prefer an open sewer – however he lives close enough to France that if he fell asleep on the 7 reasons sofa after one too many biscuits and was pushed out to sea he could float there in time for tea, as could most of Kent. This is clearly a danger to be avoided. If you holiday in Scotland you will be further from France.

2. Climate. Now you might raise an eyebrow at this as Scotland is not famed for its glorious weather and high temperatures. When I visited recently I saw sun for about two hours in an entire week, but in when you go on holiday certainty is important. You also need to be efficient in your packing and not take anything you won’t need. The Scottish climate helps no end with this. You can be certain that you won’t need shorts and you will always need a coat or if you wait until September, two coats. It is also always too windy for an umbrella which is a very good thing.

3. Scenery. Scottish scenery is quite simply breathtaking. It has everything you could want in a landscape: coastline, lochs, mountains, rolling lowlands. It is home to some wonderful wildlife: deer, beavers, eagles, wolves, bagpipers, men in kilts. Even in cities beautiful countryside is close at hand – with Arthurs seat in Edinburgh, and Pollock Country Park in Glasgow.

4. Cuisine. Scotland has a reputation as the home of unhealthy food. Chips, deep fried Mars bars, deep fried pizza, deep fried haggis, etc. This, however, is unfair. Firstly they deserve points for culinary innovation. Anyone can do a Heston Blumenthal and make egg and bacon ice cream, but taking a chocolate bar and deciding to fry it coated in a substance commonly used for battering fish requires a rare mind. Secondly, Scotland is also home to some fine produce. Salmon, Loch Fyne oysters, the finest Italian ice cream I’ve tasted outside of Rome. Okay, so you may gain weight, but if you can’t indulge when on holiday then when can you.

5. Money. One of the best things about going abroad on holiday is foreign currency. Getting funny coloured banknotes with odd people on them. It’s a trip highlight in itself. Obviously it does bring with it difficulties. Trying to do conversions in your head and accidentally tipping €50 for example. If you head to Scotland though, you get all the different colours, the different people, the odd foreign symbols, but none of the mathematical problems. Scotland is genius.

6. Midges. Scotland is famed for its midges – especially the West coast where they take over in summer in their millions. They like damp, overcast days, so no wonder they like Scotland in the summer. Visit the West of Scotland in July and you can see a lifetimes worth of midges in under a minute. Midges are horrible, bloodthirsty little creatures – literally. So why am I presenting it as a positive? Well, the main way to protect yourself from getting bitten (aside from walking round inside a net) is to drink lots of whisky and eat lots of marmite. Perfect. If you ever needed an excuse to drink industrial quantities of whisky and eat vast amounts of marmite then holidaying in Scotland is it.

7. Culture. Ever since the Scottish enlightenment (yes, it really did happen and no, it didn’t involve Billy Conolly and Rab C Nesbit), Scottish culture has led the way in Britain. While England was home to the Teletubbies, Scotland gave us the infinitely superior Balamory. When England was producing the Spice Girls, Scotland produced Belle and Sebastian. Look around the world of television, cinema, comedy, music and you see lots of brilliant, talented Scots. And Frankie Boyle.

Scotland also hosts the biggest cultural event anywhere in the United Kingdom: the Edinburgh Festivals (note the plural, there are seven of them). These are a showcase for authors, filmmakers, comedians and musicians. Okay, not all of the performers in Edinburgh are Scottish, but the diversity means that no matter where you’re on holiday from there will be something that reminds you of home. And Frankie Boyle.

July 16, 2011
7 Reasons You’d Be Crazy Not To Partake In These Crazes

I don’t know if it’s that time of the century or something, but there do appear to be a lot of plonkers out there. When I was a lad I remember there being a table-tennis craze, a yo-yo craze and a Pogs craze. These days though such frivolous activity has been replaced by the need to lie flat and have someone take a photo of you. I am, of course, referring to the art (or lack of) of planking. And now I see there is a new phenomenon sweeping the world. Owling. I hardly need to explain the concept. This picture says it all.

Owling (Or as I like to call it 'pratting about')

While I find these addictions creatively unfulfilling, I can see the opportunity. That’s why I have come up with seven crazes that I anticipate will sweep the county, country, continent, world and galaxy within the next few months. All I need is for you to take one craze and spread it amongst your social circle. It would also be good if you could add the photos to our Facebook page. Right, here are the options.

1. Tarzaning. This involves the participant climbing a tree, removing their shirt and beating their chest before falling back down to earth. It should be noted that Tarzaning differs from Gorillaing in the fact that the latter is limited to those with all over body hair.

2. Frogging. This is the art of jumping over unsuspecting bystanders. The ‘froger’ should approach the ‘frogee’ from behind. Having placed their hands on the ‘frogee’s’ shoulders, the ‘froger’ should then thrust themselves up and over the ‘frogee’s’ head before running away giggling.

3. Bushing. A variation on the already established bush jumping craze, bushing differs in that it does not involve jumping. It takes a more artistic approach to positioning yourself within a bush. It’s also particularly useful if you need the toilet.

4. Stacking. This craze involves the building of a stack – using any stacking material you can find – and then sees the participant balancing on the top. The aim is to create as tall a stack as possible without it toppling over when you attempt to climb on it. It is also important to note that each stack must be made out of the same material. So, for example, you can make a stack entirely out of CD jewel cases, but you can’t make one out of CD jewel cases and DVD cases. This method is unofficially known as shafting.

5. Hatting. Particularly popular at music festivals, hatting is the art of wearing as many hats at one time as you possibly can. It should be the aim of each participant to achieve hattacular status – a level attained by someone whose combined hat height is equivalent to that of their own height. (Regretfully, midgets are excluded from hatting.).

6. Arching. This involves bending over a popular landmark. For example, the Blackpool Imitation Tower in Paris. Obviously, actually bending over the Tower of Eiffels is an impossibility which is why arching is only concerned with apparent bending. A suitable distance away from the landmark, participants bend over. With both hands and feet touching the ground the body forms an arch shape. It is then up to the photographer to capture the landmark so that it appears under your arch. (While this is a family craze it is regretful that some people use it for other means. As such please only agree to bend over for people you know.).

7. Wapping. The craziest and most potentially dangerous of the seven crazes mentioned today. Wapping involves going to Wapping. All participants are advised to change their mobile phone pin numbers before entering the area.

Enjoy the crazes!

July 15, 2011
7 Reasons That Time Is The Enemy

I’ve just realised something. Something important. Something life-altering. Something that, though I was vaguely aware that it was so, I’d never really considered before. I’ve just realised who the enemy is and it’s not even the French! It’s that odious bastard time. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Time Causes You To Sacrifice Things You Hold Dear. Time – the scoundrel – causes you to miss many things that you dearly love to do. Haven’t played your guitar for a while, visited that spa or baked that cake? No? It’s because there isn’t time. You probably thought there was time – that you could fit it in – but time deserted you when you needed it most. And then time forced you to make the tricky decision about what to sacrifice because of your lack of it. Time has run out on you and made you the bad guy. If you find yourself having to make the choice to spend more of your time doing the washing up or the hoovering rather than spending your time doing what you really want to be doing, it’s time’s fault.

2. Time Forces You To Compromise. Time continually places us in compromising positions. Because of time, everything becomes a compromise: Should you do something quickly or do something well? Should you diligently hone your craft and produce excellence or just botch things in a hurried manner for a quick result? Time forces you to make compromises in every area of your life when you’d probably rather not. Time forces you to compromise every damned…er…time.

3. Time Makes Your Life Needlessly Difficult. We strive to be on time; not early nor late, because what is prized in our society is punctuality; being on time. This means that how you are seen in the eyes of your peers – your social standing – is held in the fickle fingers of fate. In an ideal world, it’s not difficult to be punctual, but we don’t live in an ideal world. Every puncture, every train breakdown, every tube strike, in fact, every little incident and accident that we encounter on the way to wherever it is we’re going could potentially make us late, which will affect how we’re judged by our peers; “He’s always late”, people will whisper, “she’s a terrible timekeeper”. Time sets you difficult to attain targets then rewards your inevitable failure with opprobrium.

4. It’s Never The Right Time. No matter what age you are, it’s never the right time. When you’re young, it’s never playtime, it’s always bathtime or bedtime or time to go to school. When you have kids of your own, it’s never bathtime or bedtime, it’s always sodding playtime and it’s never time to go home. Then when you’re old it’s always bloody bedtime and you’re in a home. It’s never the right time.

5. Time Is Bad For Us. Time is attacking you and I at this very moment. It’s doing all sorts of vile things to us: It’s turning us grey; it’s making us wrinkly; it’s making some bits of us bigger and some bits of us smaller; it’s making bits of us fall out and adding extra bits where there weren’t bits before; bits that we didn’t need; bits that didn’t want; bits that we’re going to have to spend even more time removing. Time is making the inside of your ears hairy right now for no earthly reason other than to mock you.

6. Time Will Kill You. Humans are fragile creatures and there are many dangerous things that we might encounter during the course of our lives: War, famine, pestilence, irate husbands, startled horses, out of control dirigibles, rogue hippopotami, a landslide, a flood, a furious baboon; there are all manner of things that can kill us. But one thing is certain, if, against all the odds, we survive all of those things then time will kill us. Time kills more people than all of the armies of the world combined. Time kills more people than every monstrous dictator that’s ever committed an act of genocide. Pol Pot, Josef Stalin, Leopold of Belgium and Adolf Hitler were lightweights when compared with time. Time is a mass murderer. Time should be in a cell in The Hague. For the rest of time.

7. Time Is Addictive. Time, in the manner of an opiate, has us hooked. For after it’s turned us grey, caused us to sacrifice many of the things that we hold dear, turned our lives into a frustrating series of compromises, punished us for every little mishap that was outside our control, it still holds us in its thrall. Like irresolute crack whores we go running back to it, because we’re compelled to; we’re addicted to time. We can’t get enough of it. We can never have enough time. What every last one of us wants is more time. Time is our enemy, yet we can’t live without it.

As you can plainly see, time is an insidious and diabolically cruel outrage that humankind should wage war against. I’d lead the charge myself, but sadly, I don’t have the time.

July 14, 2011
7 Reasons The British Obsession With Weather Is A Myth

This evening sees a new programme come to BBC One. It’s called The Great British Weather and features Alexander Henry Fenwick Armstrong, Chris Hollins and Carol Kirkwood telling us why we are obsessed with weather. Well, let us tell you something right now. We aren’t. And that’s ‘we’ in royal sense too. We really aren’t. It’s a complete myth. Here’s why:

1. Greeting. It is often commented upon that talk of the weather is the first topic of conversation one enters when meeting someone else. That is certainly true here at 7 Reasons sofaquarters. When Marc and I park our posteriors on the cushions of destiny our first acknowledgement is that we arrived rather wet. Or, if it’s not Summer, rather dry. This is not because we particularly care about the weather, it’s because this is how the British greet each other. The Americans comment on how many pancakes they had that morning, the Japanese comment on how tall they are feeling and the French snog each other. It’s an ice-breaker.

2. Meaning. The word ‘obsession’ means, according to my sources, the domination of one’s thoughts. To dominate your thoughts I reckon the subject must be thought about at least 50% of the time. And if that failed to make sense, read the next sentence – it’s much clearer. For someone to be obsessed with the weather they need to be thinking of the weather more than twelve hours a day. And not even South East Today’s weather girl, Kaddy-Lee Preston, does that. I know this because she likes break dancing, techno music and goats. And as I am sure you’ll know, when you’ve got goats on the brain there is simply not enough time to get obsessed with weather.

3. Stats. In a Daily Telegraph article last October, Murray Wardrop (apparently the unthinking man’s Murray Walker) said this, ‘Our obsession with the weather runs so deep that almost 70% of British people check the weather forecast at least once a day’. No Murray dear, this is not because we are obsessed, it is because we don’t want to wear our Bermuda shorts if it’s going to be a monsoon out there. I go to the fridge at least five times a day. Does this make me obsessed with the little light that goes on and off as I open and close the door? I think not.

4. Observation. “Good gracious,” I exclaimed, “she’s a big girl!” Those are the very words I used the other day when watching a TV programme. I can’t remember what it was, but I remember the big girl. Now, I didn’t say these words because I am obsessed with big girls. I’m not. Nor am I obsessed with small girls if that’s what you are wondering. In fact I never have been. Except when I was small myself. It seemed acceptable then. Anyway, I seem to be veering from the point. The reason I exclaimed that there was a big girl on the TV is because I was surprised. I genuinely wasn’t expecting someone quite so vuluptuous to appear right there, right then. Which is why I felt the need to announce my observation to anyone who would listen. It is exactly the same situation as if I had looked to my left and noticed whites flakes. “Good gracious,” I would have exclaimed, “it’s snowing in July!”. The line between observation and obsession is so vast I am astounded people can blur it so readily.

5. Media. Remember the Big Freeze last year that killed 60,000 people? No, neither do I. Though that is what the Sunday Express sensationally suggested.

It’s the British tabloid press that are obsessed with the weather and sadly we, the public, are tarred with the same brush. I suppose we should be thankful that the revelations of the last few weeks mean The Sunday Express are very unlikely to continue hacking Michael Fish’s phone.

6. Popular Culture. The film The Day After Tomorrow – which was pretty much an entire celebration of extreme weather – brought in just over £25 Million at the UK box office. In the same year Spider-Man 2 brought in nearly £1.5 Million more. Admitedly the film did feature Raindrops Keep Falling On My Head, but if you are suggesting we went to watch it just because of that I won’t believe you. Just to be on the safe side though, Shrek 2 brought is nearly £48 Million in the UK alone. And at no point is the weather mentioned. So I think that proves, in 2004 at least, Brits were more obsessed by Cameron Diaz looking like a green ugly thing than the weather.

7. Me. If the British obsession with the weather wasn’t a myth; if it were as true as you and I existing on this very day; if we all loved rain and shine and celebrated each as we celebrate our birthday. ~~Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it, and – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son~~! Then I wouldn’t be wasting my morning writing about the blasted thing would I?

*The Great British Weather starts on BBC One tonight at 7.30pm. Yay!

July 13, 2011
7 Reasons That Seven Is Called Seven (probably)

Okay, people. You can’t have failed to have noticed that David and Victoria Beckham have had a daughter and that they’ve named her Harper Seven Beckham (unless you get your news from the News of the World, in which case time stopped yesterday). Now, we all understand why the Beckhams have named their daughter Harper; it’s because they’re aficionados that have been inspired by the American literary canon (and who amongst us wouldn’t rate Harper Lee’s To Kill A Mockingbird as a seminal work), but most people have been a bit nonplussed by their selection of the second-name Seven. As of yet, there’s been no official word on what the fuck they were thinking how they selected their newborn’s middle moniker so, in the best traditions of 7 Reasons (.org), we’re going to flail around and speculate wildly. Here are seven reasons that Seven is called Seven (probably).

1. They’re Big Fans! Well, we had no idea and frankly we’re a little overwhelmed and very flattered. You see, we have a number of American readers, though we know very little about them, we just know that we are read regularly in America. So, it’s possible that David and Victoria love our website and have named their daughter after us. After all, it’s easily possible that homesick Brits abroad would love to keep up with what’s going on at home and why wouldn’t the Beckhams want to know when one of the team gets stuck in a revolving door or the other one buys a new laundry bin? There’s no reason that they wouldn’t want to know that. None at all. Of course they’ve named their daughter after us.

2. Conception. The Beckhams are noted for naming their children for the place where they were conceived: Brooklyn was conceived in Brooklyn; Romeo was conceived in the back of an Alfa Romeo; Cruz was conceived on a cruise (spelling apparently isn’t their strong suit) and it’s easily possible that their latest child was conceived in hotel room number 7 somewhere, or (in a variation on the theme) at seven o’clock, or while watching Channel 7 (Australia). Or perhaps she was conceived near the River Severn. Whatever it is, it could be about the conception.

3. Dwarves. I know a bit about newborn babies – being the curator of one myself – and one of the most striking things about them is that they are tiny. Really, really little. Perhaps, as the Beckhams held their wee bundle in their arms, they looked at her and thought isn’t she small? Let’s call her Small. No, we can’t call her small, that would be silly. People will make fun. We’re going to have to take a more sophisticated approach than that. Let’s be clever. Let’s take the concept of small and be a little more oblique. What else is small? Dwarves! Let’s call her Sleepy! Or Dopey! No, we can’t call her that; it spoils a potential nickname. Let’s be a tad circumlocutory when we reference the dwarves. Got it! We’ll call her Seven.

4. Keeping Track. In the manner of farmers painting numbers on the sides of their cows (which is essentially a rural version of tagging perpetrated by ruddy-faced tweed-wearers in fields), it’s quite important to keep track of your herd. With the addition of Harper Seven Beckham, there will now be six members of the Beckham household. But thumbs are complex things, and when you’re counting to seven, it’s easy to make a mistake, right? After all, thumbs are only half the size of your fingers. Who wouldn’t find that confusing? Oh yes. Them.

5. Seinfeld. Okay, so maybe the Beckhams aren’t fans of our site: That would explain why the limited edition diamond encrusted version of our Blowers t-shirt remains unsold. But perhaps they are fans of Seinfeld. After all, George Costanza’s ideal name for a boy (or a girl) was Seven. Obviously, Jerry objected, but as he was the least funny thing in his own sitcom so it’s possible that the Beckhams ignored him. We have too. George is right.

6. Numerology. In 2011, the number seven is tremendously significant. We’ve done actual research and have discovered that, for numerologists, the number seven represents all manner of important stuff that we sort of skim-read. To our untrained eyes, it might appear somewhat similar to every other number and year, but to experts (and who’s to say that the latest celebrity craze isn’t Scientology or Kabbalah and that Posh and Becks aren’t, in fact, Grand High Poobahs of Numerology or Akelas or something ), it’s probably quite meaningful and important. And interesting. And had we looked at it closely, it might have seemed profound.

7. It’s Not The Worst Name They Could Think Of. I learned today of a worse baby name than Seven: also worse than Superman; and worse than Adolf. I discovered that a baby at my son’s baby group is called…Ian. That’s right, a baby called Ian. The boy Ian. Ian the baby. A name that’s only appropriate for a man in his 50s (or Ian Bell) has been given to tiny child. What sort of monster would name their child Ian? Never mind speculating about the name Seven, that’s a question we all need an answer to.

*The 7 Reasons team would like to congratulate the Beckhams on the occasion of the birth of their daughter, Harper Seven Beckham. Though we may have derived some humour from their choice of name (we are humourists, after all), we have nothing but admiration for their conduct as parents which, in an age where parenting skills often seem to be lacking amongst such a large section of the population, are an exemplary example to us all. Congratulations! But Seven? Really?

July 12, 2011
7 Reasons Not To Get Stuck In A Revolving Door

We’re in a revolving door. Mid-revolution. But we’re not going anywhere. We are, as the saying goes, stuck. There are eight of us in total. Myself, another man and a woman in our half and a family of five in the other. We’re all looking at each other. And I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all.

1. Suspicion. Everyone is looking at me. I am the prime suspect here. Just because I am very close to the glass in front of me. Everyone thinks I touched it. Everyone thinks I stopped the revolving doors. I didn’t. I promise you I didn’t. I’ve had years of practice in these things. I know how to use them. I did not touch the glass. I did not. I try and make every sinew in my face as innocent as possible. But it doesn’t work. Everyone still thinks it was me.

2. Blush. And because everyone thinks it was me and because everyone is staring at me, the colour races to my cheeks. I go a little red. Well, probably quite a lot red. Every sinew now suggests I am guilty. A bead of sweat trickles down my arm.

3. Backwards Step. I want to hold my ground. I want to prove that it is not my proximity to the glass that has made the doors stop. But we’re not going anywhere. And every split-second that passes feels like a minute. There’s also another problem. I’m in a rush here. I really need to get to the gents. Suddenly my nerve is entangled in a battle of wills with my bladder.

4. Realisation. This is pain. This is physical and mental torture. And the only outcome is that I lose. Either I move, which just gives my revolving door companions even more reason to suspect I am the culprit, or I just stand there. And wet myself.

5. Decision. It’s not a hard one.* I move. It’s only a small step, but the significance of it is staggering. If I can paraphrase Neil Armstrong here, ‘It was one small step for Jon, a giant leap for the revolving door’s inhabitants.’. To everyone else this appeared as an admission of guilt. But deep down I don’t really care. Not now. I’ve come too far. And, like I say, I really, really need to get to the gents.

6. Handbags. No sooner have I stepped back though, that I encounter another problem. A lady’s foot. Just the toes, but enough to make her exasperate. I’m not doing very well here. I turn my head and apologise. She smiles wryly though I suspect it belies a wish for vengeance. For a second I am pleased I am stuck in a revolving door. There isn’t enough room to swing a cat in here, let alone her handbag.

7. Release. After what seems like hours – but in reality is probably less than five seconds – we are finally free. I make a sharp left for the toilets. I don’t look back. I just want to forget the whole sordid affair. I make it to the urinals without further alarm. But then someone stands next to me. And out of the corner of my eye I can tell who it is. It’s the man who was holding the hand of the woman who now has a bruised toe. Has he followed me in? I lose my nerve. I can’t bring myself to go. So I pretend to go. I count to ten before heading for the sink. And then I head out, to tackle the revolving doors once more. Only I use the normal door instead. Because the revolving doors are stuck.

*Which only goes to prove even more that I wasn’t touching the glass in front.

July 11, 2011
Win A Prize!

Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed 7 Reasons readers, people of the internet, lovers of SPAM; we have an exciting prize to offer one lucky person.

You may remember a reference from a 7 Reasons post earlier in the week to the giving of the gift of a tin of SPAM. Well, that didn’t go too well. Consequently, we’re now in the position to offer you, the reader, that very self-same tin of SPAM, though now with a slight dent on it.

The Prize (pen, notebook and table not included)

Sadly though, we haven’t had much time to devise a competition – and one of the team also has something of a headache – but we’ve realised something: That 7 Reasons readers are probably creative and resourceful people too. Accordingly, we’re setting you a challenge.

To win this tin of SPAM, which will be dispatched direct from Yorkshire, simply come up with a competition to win a tin of SPAM and send your entry to [email protected]. We’ll judge the entries and the winner will be the person that that has devised – in our opinion – the best competition. You’ve got full licence to be as innovative and creative as you like (in fact, we positively encourage it). Feel free to send illustrations too, if you feel they will enhance your presentation. We’ll announce the lucky winner next Sunday. We might even use the winning competition in the future.

So get your thinking caps on as fame, fortune and a tin of SPAM await you. Oh, and enjoy the rest of your weekend. See you tomorrow.

July 10, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Garden Sheds Are Actually Pretty Cool

Welcome to another Saturday and another in our long line of world class guest posts. This week it’s Chris Johnson’s turn on the 7 Reasons sofa. A sofa that has been treated like royalty in the last two years. And deservedly so. It’s been to Paris and Sydney and Chicago and Birmingham to name a few. So which luxury destination is it off to this week? Yes, that’s right, Chris’ shed. But it’s not just any shed. It’s a cool garden shed. Obviously. What other type of shed is there? All garden sheds are cool. As Chris will now explain.

I feel pretty bad for sheds. They just sort of sit at the back of the garden with no love or attention given to their woody selves. It is therefore my aim to provide you with 7 pretty believable reasons why sheds actually are pretty cool!

1. You Can Make A Horror Film In Them. Sheds can be pretty creepy in the dark. More often than not, they’re rotting messes with all kinds of creepy crawlies in them. Take a video camera and rope in your mates. Have someone wield an axe while someone cowers in the corner amongst the lawnmower and shovel. You instantly have the perfect setup for the next blockbuster slasher film. It will be better than Saw 7 anyway.

2. You Can Make A Den In Them. Transport yourself back to your childhood. Clear out all that junk and fill it with pillows, blankets and large quantities of Haribo. Chill out with your mates amongst the soft furnishings and tell each other ghost stories as it gets dark. If you’re really daring, you could even introduce a couple of beers into the equation and see what happens!

3. You Actually Have Two Houses. Nobody ever really considers that a shed could be considered a second house. If it was painted up all pretty with a sofa and a bed, you instantly have a second home right in your back garden. It’s unfortunate that they are left in a dirty, uninhabitable state. Many people on the streets would love to live in your shed. Stop taking it for granted and turn it into something to keep your mother-in-law in!

4. You Could Have A Secret Life In Them. Playing on the idea that it’s your second home, you could have an entirely separate life in your shed. Transform into the opposite sex as you step into your second life if that floats your boat, or become an owl in the middle of the night. Your family has no idea where you are because, well, you wouldn’t be in the shed would you? That would be ludicrous! That’s what you want them to think!

5. You Can Pretend It’s A TARDIS. Why should the Doctor be the only person with a TARDIS? Tell your mates that you too are a Time Lord. Paint your shed in brilliant blue, and dazzle your friends by showing them that your shed is actually bigger on the inside. Of course, if it isn’t actually bigger on the inside, just tell them that your TARDIS is feeling slightly unwell. Of course, there is one downside this amazing plan: you could be carted off to the crazy person place. But there’s no harm in trying!

6. They Are Something Top Gear Would Blow Up. Now, I’m not suggesting you should blow your shed up. That would be a bit dangerous, and frankly I don’t want to be liable for whatever would happen to you should you take dynamite to your poor garden shed. But you have to admit, those crazy old guys on Top Gear would love to blow up a shed. For absolutely no reason at all. And Top Gear is a cool programme, right? We’ve all seen the infamous caravan explosion. What would be even better is if Top Gear turned a shed into a car. It would be like a caravan, but made of wood. Interesting,

7. They Are Cool, Because They Are Cool By Nature. Well, yes, this one is pretty obvious, I admit. Sheds are just so damn cool because it’s unlikely you’ve installed central heating in there, right? I bet sheds get pretty cold at night, just imagine how cool they are in the winter. If this reason isn’t enough to convince you that sheds are cool, then I am afraid you have wasted your time in reading this. Ah well.

July 9, 2011
7 Reasons To Wear A Top Hat

Hello 7 Reasons readers. I’m almost breathless with excitement as I’ve just worked out what we should all be wearing and it’s…a top hat. Here’s why.

1. You Can Cause A Stir. The sight of the top hat was initially shocking; according to an officer of the Crown the wearer of the first one, James Hetherington “…appeared on the public highway wearing upon his head what he called a silk hat (which was shiny luster and calculated to frighten timid people)”, he also stated that “…several women fainted at the unusual sight, while children screamed, dogs yelped and a younger son of Cordwainer Thomas was thrown down by the crowd which collected and had his right arm broken”. Now, top hats are less shocking these days than they were in the eighteenth century, but you’ll still cut a dash.

2. It Will Make Us Better At Sport. Now it might not be immediately obvious why this is so and you’re probably thinking that surely a top hat would be a little cumbersome to wear during sport, and you’d be right too. But let’s look at what happened the last time top hats were popular; one of the most popular pastimes for urchins (after picking pockets, bursting into song, pilfering roasted chestnuts and suffering from rickets) was knocking the top hats off gentlemen by hurling things at them. Surely this would be just as much fun for modern children (and me, come to think of it). In fact, knocking people’s top hats off would be all the motivation that our young people would need to spend their time diligently honing their throwing actions, and pursuing them after they’d done so would improve their running skills too. If we wore top hats, we’d surely see an improvement in cricketing standards some way down the line.

3. It’s An Act Of Benevolence. When was the last time that you saw someone with a tall cylindrical head? That’s right, you probably haven’t, and do you know why? That’s because unfortunates with heads shaped like the funnels of steamships probably feel too self-conscious to leave the house. So what better way of restoring to them a normal, dignified life would there be than for us all to wear top hats? Then having a tall cylindrical head would cease to be a stigma for sufferers who could disguise it with a top hat themselves.

4. It’s An Egalitarian Act. At the moment, the foremost wearers of top hats in the UK are Eton schoolboys, but should Etonians get all the fun? After all, they get to spend years wearing a top hat and, eventually, they get to run the country too. If we want a more equitable society then we need to reclaim the top hat from the privileged few and wear it ourselves. We may not get to be in charge, but we’ll look bloody marvellous while we’re going about our business of not running things while in a really good hat. We’ll be recovering a grand traditional item of apparel that is as quintessentially British as cheese and chutney sandwiches or being attacked by a wasp in a beer garden. What’s more, we’ll be reclaiming it for the masses. That’s us!

5. It’s A Practical Hat. Nowadays almost everyone has at least one digital camera with them when they go out, but people rarely carry tripods. A top hat though, with its horizontal surface is an ideal camera platform. You can also keep your camera in your top hat as there’s a fair bit of storage space there. You can use it to store other things too; biscuits, a small owl, a good book, a book by Dan Brown, a series of smaller top hats ever diminishing in size: The list of things you can carry in there is boundless. In fact, ironically, the list of things you can store in your top hat is so large that it’s one of the few things that you won’t be able to store in your top hat. You’d need a cavernous hat to store the list in; a veritable behemoth of a hat; a hat the size of a house; a hat that you could get lost in. Where was I?

6. It Aids Peer Recognition. Most social groups have shared readily identifiable features that their members can use to spot one another. Hipsters can tell other hipsters by their shirts and glasses; MCC members can recognise other MCC members by their egg and bacon ties; gits can spot gits by looking into a mirror and seeing Piers Morgan, and 7 Reasons readers can distinguish other 7 Reasons readers because they are carrying their laundry basket around with them. If you wear a top hat, you’ll be able to spot your peers – other top hat wearers – in a crowd, from the other side of moderately high walls and in cars with sunroofs. You can’t put a price on the camaraderie of the hat.

7. It Helps Others. Want to help a humourist who’s just decided to spend his birthday money on a top hat? Of course you do. You can do that just by wearing a top hat, thus making him feel slightly less self-conscious about wearing one himself. Because I’d like to don a top hat and amble around the streets of my city without people pointing and mocking; without being shrieked at by hideous hen parties and being taunted by even more hideous groups of stags; without children guffawing at my distinctive and wondrous headpiece while shouting, “hat!”. I’d consider it a personal favour if everyone that has read this were to go out and buy a top hat today. We could start a revolution, or at least make me look a little less ridiculous, which would be no mean feat. Go now. Go buy a hat!

July 8, 2011