Tag: Humour

Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Holiday In South Africa

The nights are drawing in. The temperature is dropping. There is resentment in the air. Summer never arrived. As a result throngs of disgruntled Brits are marching on Heathrow. Destination holiday. But with so many countries to choose from, where do you buy a ticket to? Today Craig Patterson puts his humorous case forward for South Africa.

South Africa is a pretty amazing place; a country nicknamed the ‘Rainbow nation’ for its incredible cultural diversity and eclectic geography (as opposed to any parallels with the long running British children’s TV show featuring Geoffrey Hayes and a cast of rather off-beat puppet companions Zippy, Bungle and for some reason a camp hippo called George). South Africa is a vibrant and beautiful place that promises one of the most memorable and truly privileging experiences in the world. So let’s take a closer look at the seven reasons that make South Africa holidays so good.

1. ‘Damn Nature, You Scary!’ South Africa is home to some of the most iconic wildlife on the planet and nowhere else in Africa are you more likely to see the famous ‘Big Five’; like the fab four but considerably more toothy and considerably less Liverpudlian these were the animals once considered by colonial hunters as the most dangerous on the continent: lions, leopards, rhinos, elephants and Chuck Norris…I mean buffaloes. The Kruger National Park in the North East of the country is widely regarded as one of the richest and most diverse game reserves in all of Africa boasting an abundance of wildlife, and even the occasional hippo; although I can’t promise they will be either as camp or as pink as George. Safari holidays are becoming more and more popular and a break to South Africa promises a truly exhilarating experience.

2. Language And Time. Okay, so it might take an eleven and a half hour flight to get there but let’s face it, that’s just like watching all three extended editions of the Lord of the Rings films back to back; peace of cake. One great thing about travelling to South Africa for Western European tourists in particular is that it’s almost entirely down hill and by that I mean you fly on essentially the same longitude the whole way; so despite jumping on a rather lengthy flight you will still arrive in Cape Town or Johannesburg only 1 or 2 hours ahead of GMT. Cash back! Also thanks to a lengthy colonial occupation a vast majority of South Africans speak English, which perhaps unfortunately for some renders ineffectual that old British holiday-making ritual of trying to make other nationalities comprehend you by pointing at something and then saying it louder and slower again in English. This also presents a great opportunity to perfect your beloved South African accent; the one that everyone says sounds Russian but you know is spot on.

3. The Weather’s Great…Usually. The weather in South Africa is quite similar to the climate in Britain in the same way that Blue Nun is quite similar to Dom Perignon. The country actually promises pleasant conditions throughout the year although there is a discernible seasonal shift around September and April. Thanks to the wizardry of astrophysics and the orbital tilt of the planet’s axis as a country in the Southern Hemisphere South Africa experiences apposite seasonal changes to its hemispherical counterparts ‘up north’ meaning that when it is British winter it is in fact South African summer. Not only does this assert the country as a great winter warmer destination, but the cooler drier period from June to September is actually the best time for game viewing and perfectly timed for a jolly summer holiday. All of this said South Africa is prone to its occasional climatic clanger and only as recently as this year many residents in the Eastern Cape awoke to a blanket of thick snow, maybe not so different eh?

4. Malaria Free. Unlike most other destinations in Southern Africa, South Africa is almost entirely malaria free with only the very north-eastern reaches moderately at risk. A lot of people presume that when they travel to South Africa they will have to prescribe to a cocktail of pills and drugs that Keith Richards would be proud of, but thanks to the geographical location of the country travellers and perhaps young children in particular needn’t worry about the effects of those infamous and much belied bloodsuckers, no not the HMRC, mosquitoes.

5. Nelson Says So. The Granddad that everyone wishes they had, Nelson Mandela, is an icon, not only in South Africa but across the globe. The former president was notoriously imprisoned for over 27 years for his role in the anti apartheid movement much of which he spent on Robben Island. To trace the history and evolution of modern South Africa is a wonderful thing and there are many museums and exhibits dedicated to the country’s colourful and undeniably tumultuous past. Mandela still epitomises the hope and spirit shared by millions of South Africans for a bright and fruitful future. He also looks just like Morgan Freeman who incidentally played him in 2009 biopic, Invictus – a little pub ammo for you.

6. Cape Town. Cape Town is a pretty hip and happening place and is the most visited destination within the most visited country in Africa. Originally established by the Dutch who stopped by for a smoke and a pancake in the mid 17th century and decided to stay, today Cape Town is a busy metropolis, although interestingly not the outright capital as South Africa actually has three – make up your minds guys. With such famous sights as the V&A waterfront, Table Mountain and the nearby Cape of Good Hope as well as a plethora (great word, just rolls off the tongue) of boutique shops restaurants and bars there will be something to keep everyone entertained.

7. Affordable. You might think that a holiday to South Africa would cost you an arm and a leg (I suppose it might depending upon how close you get to the lions) but in fact you don’t have to be the CEO of De Beers to afford even a relatively luxurious trip. The incredible variety of experiences on offer in South Africa means that whatever budget you have to work with you can still see the best of this country. OK, so you’re understandably going to have to fork out more than you would for a long weekend in Whitby but in a time when the purse strings are even tighter than usual you can still enjoy an ‘exotic’ break at a competitive price.

September 24, 2011
7 Reasons That The Interrobang Is Amazing

Hello! How are you?! Excellent, glad to hear it. Well here at 7 Reasons, we’re uncommonly excited because yesterday, @davidofyork tweeted a link to an obscure piece of punctuation called the interrobang, which has apparently been around since 1962. It’s used to convey excitement or disbelief in the form of a question. Here are seven reasons that it’s amazing.

1. It Looks Amazing! Look at it! Look at it! It’s up there! It’s a question! It’s an exclamation! It’s a quesclamation! It’s an exclamastion! It’s two different things fused together in a perfect visual synergy. You may never have seen an interrobang before but if you’ve ever seen a question mark and an exclamation mark a casual glance at it will instantly convey its meaning. It’s bloody perfect.

2. It’s Called An Interrobang! An interrobang! Have you ever heard a better portmanteau word? No, I thought not. It’s amazing. It takes the interro from interrogate and the bang from bang! There is surely only one better word in the world, and that word is hereisabowloftiramisuthesizeofscotlandhelpyourself which isn’t even a real word. Interrobang is real. Interrobang!

3. You Can Make One Yourself! The interrobang is the most amazing thing that I have ever seen, you’re doubtless thinking, I want to use one as soon as possible, the very moment that I have finished reading this piece, shared it on Facebook and Twitter and pressed the Google +1 button at the bottom of the page. But wait! Where’s the interrobang on my keyboard? The evil bastards at Microsoft/Apple haven’t provided one! Where’s my interrobang?! Well, it’s there, just before this sentence, because you don’t need a dedicated interrobang key to have an interrobang, the mere act of using the symbols one after the other is, in itself, an interrobang. Allow me to demonstrate:

4. It’s Easy To Use! How do I use an interrobang?! Like that! Can I use it this way round as well!? Yes! It’s that simple.

5. It’s Fun To Use! I’ll let you into a secret. I bloody love writing. I find the act of forming thoughts into words and sentences then punctuating them and playing with them until they convey what I wanted to say in a pleasing way an absolute joy. But then I discovered the interrobang, and do you know what?! Writing became a hundred times more fun. Because now I get to write words and when the time comes to punctuate them I get to use the interrobang! And better than that, I am now able to use the word interrobang! A lot! Interrobang! It’s amazing! I’m literally bouncing around with excitement because of the interrobang! Every time I use an interrobang or use the word interrobang it’s a thrill, though I do promise never to drink this much coffee before writing a 7 Reasons post again. But only if I can say interrobang again. Interrobang!

6. It Makes You Cool! Some things are intrinsically cool. Knowing what an umlaut is, is cool. Steve McQueen in Bullitt, is cool. But now you’re cooler than that, because knowing what an umlaut is, is nowhere near as cool as knowing what an interrobang is, because the interrobang is just about the most awesome thing in the world! And it’s still quite obscure. And now, when you watch Bullitt, there’ll be a nagging thought in the back of your mind: Well, you’re pretty cool, Steve McQueen, but you don’t know what an interrobang is and I do! You’re now cooler than Steve McQueen because of the interrobang! How cool is the interrobang?!

7. Interrobang?! Interrobang! Interrobang?! Interrobang! Look at the interrobang! Look at the word interrobang! It’s there at the start of this paragraph having a conversation with itself! It’s that awesome! It’s the interrobang! It talks to itself! There it is! IT’S THE INTERROBANG! I’m going to go for a lie down now but not before I say interrobang! Interrobang!

September 22, 2011
7 Reasons A Cravat Is The Way Forward

With just nine months to go until I become a man, I have been looking at what I shall wear on the day. My cricket whites were voted out in the first round so it looks like I will be going the top hat and tails route. With the cravat. It’s the way forward. Not just for marriages, for all time.

1. Sophistication. When you see a man in a cravat, you can tell exactly what sort of man he is. Debonaire, suave, handsome, wealthy, intelligent and affable. You see how easy it can be to fool people.

2. Silk. No, not the fabric kind, the Robert Kilroy kind. When he founded the now largely unheard of Veritas Political Party in 2005 he set out his vision using the immortal line, “An end to cravats!”. A rather odd call given that the country was then being led by Blair and Prescott. Hardly two men who were in a rush to don a necktie before breakfast. Anyway, since then Veritas and Kilroy-Silk have done little but go backwards which surely suggests one needs a cravat to go forwards.

3. Achievement. The last time I wore something around my neck – apart from a tie and a forearm while playing rugby at Loughborough University – was when I was a cub. And, as I may have said previously on 7 Reasons, I was a bloody good cub. I had badges and woggles and wiggles and dobs and dibs all over my room. I was that good. And really, the only thing that stopped me continuing as a cub, was that I got old. And as soon as I got old I stopped achieving things. Well, badges anyway. Until now I couldn’t work out why. Then I realised. It’s because I am not wearing anything around my neck. If I want badges again, I need to wear a cravat.

4. Handkerchief. The difficulty with a tie is that when you wipe your nose on it, the remnants are there for all to see. There’s really no where to hide it. A cravat though is tucked inside the shirt, which means if you wipe carefully with the edge of the material it can easily be hidden from view.

5. Present. A cravat is the kind of item that can easily be presented to your father, uncle or grandfather should you forget that it is his birthday. You could hardly whip off your trousers and hand them to him could you? But a cravat, of course you could.

6. Unbuttoned Shirt. The problem with a tie – apart from the fact that one in every four features a button that when pressed plays Jingle Bells – is that they are not very practical when it comes to allowing you to breath. It’s not necessarily the tie that has the strangling effect, it’s the shirt. When the top button is done up and the collar closes in around the neck breathing becomes a chore. Either that or the shirt is so big that it makes you look like you’ve been very ill recently. A cravat, though, allows you to keep the shirt unbuttoned. It allows you both to breath and not look ill. And that has to be the way forward. If you want to live.

7. In The Club. Despite extensive research I have not been able to find a single Cravat Club or Appreciation Society in the world. I have found the Odd Sock Society, the Anstey Nomads Underwear Supporters (ANUS) and the Cod Piece Collective, but nothing through which you could celebrate the cravat. How can that be? Well the answer is simple. It’s because the cravat hasn’t had its time yet. It’s ahead of its time. To wear a cravat now is to be a trendsetter. You could be like the guy who bought a Betamax player. Or a Sinclair C5. Get ahead now.

September 21, 2011
7 Reasons That This Is The Greatest Bus Service Ever

Great news for 7 Reasons readers that are also fans of buses! For the third time in our history, we’re writing a bus-related piece featuring – you guessed it – buses!   The reason for this is simple; as reported today, by various news organisations, a brilliant and ground-breaking innovation in the field of public transport has occurred in, of all places Wiltshire (and Hampshire) where residents of Winterslow can now avail themselves of what is effectively a one-way bus service to Andover, on weekdays and weekends. It does go in the other direction too, but the return service departs before the outbound service arrives. Here are seven reasons that this is a brilliant idea.

Not actual 87 bus.

1. It Utilizes Underused Resources. At night, once buses have stopped running, bus stops stand idle and unpopulated, making them ideal targets for ne’er-do-wells, rapscallions and vandals. Not in Andover though. With the new one-way timetable, bus stops in Andover will be used outside of peak periods, in fact, all through the night, as bus-users from Winterslow use them to shelter from the elements as they wait until the next day to return home from their visits to WH Smith and Poundland. The new timetable brilliantly uses passengers from Winterslow as a free security force to protect Andover’s bus stops from vandalism at night. A free security force. Ingenious.

2. It’s Innovative. It really is. The history of Britain is peppered with examples of blue-sky, outside-of-the-box, joined-up-thinking and ground-breaking innovation and no one can say that this bus timetable isn’t innovative. A bus that only goes one way. It’s revolutionary! Or at least it would be, if it went full-circle and returned from whence it departed. But it doesn’t. It is, however, definitely an innovation. A one-way bus! A bus that takes you somewhere and then abandons you there. Have you ever been on one of those before? No, I don’t suppose you have.

3. It Encourages Further Innovation. Not only is the one-way bus to Andover innovative, it encourages further innovation. Because for great creative and inventive thinking to occur, three things are required: Time, will and an environment conducive to uninterrupted thought. Spending hours on end in a deserted bus stop takes care of the first and the third things and who, faced with waiting until the next day for the bus home (or having had their bus home leave before they’ve arrived) wouldn’t want to invent a time-machine? The bus-users of Winterslow could achieve great things while they’re waiting for their bus. How brilliant of their local authority to create the environment in which the creative talents of the people of Winterslow can bear fruit.

4. It’s Soothing. This public-transport quantum-leap eliminates one of the biggest objections people have to travelling by public transport. Timetable-anxiety: That nagging feeling that haunts people who know they have to finish whatever they’re doing punctually and get to a certain place at a certain time in order to return home. But now the residents of Winterslow won’t have to hurriedly conduct their affairs in Andover. They will experience no more the subliminal torment and creeping trepidation associated with having to rush their business to meet a tight deadline. The people of Winterslow can’t go home.   They have been liberated from the tyranny of the timetable. And from housework and nice, warm beds and things.

5. It Elevates Bus Travel From The Realms Of The Mundane. Why do the people of Winterslow take the bus to Andover? I’m sure that’s a question that none of us ever thought we’d be facing but it’s there now, so let’s brainstorm it (very briefly). Okay, are we all agreed that it’s to use the more comprehensive facilities and amenities generally associated with a larger town; shops, banks, post offices and the railway station etc? Good. But those are all rather dull things (except for etc which is redolent of mystery). Now, however, a trip to Andover has been turned into a stopover. It’s not a trip to the bank before returning home, it’s a holiday. The bus-users of Winterslow are now tourists; travellers. They’re the diesel-set. It’s so much more glamorous than a regular bus service.

6. It Saves Money. It saves the local authority money as they only have to run a bus one way (unless the bus depot is in Winterslow. Or Andover) and it saves the passengers money as they’ll only be paying for single tickets (plus they can turn the heating off in their houses for the night and they won’t be using their televisions or hobs and ovens or washing machines). So everyone wins here and, when they’re not working on their time-machine, the bus-users of Winterslow will be able to spend their night in the bus shelter calculating just how much money they’ve saved!   How thrilling and uplifting for them. This is the sort of financial whizz-kiddery that could revolutionise the public sector.

7. It’s Traditional. Wiltshire Council are merely the latest innovators in a grand tradition of cutting-edge bus-timetable thinking in the UK. With their one-way bus service, they may even have surpassed the nation’s previous high-water-mark in radical timetable departures: In 1976, it was reported that buses on the Hanley to Bagnall route in Staffordshire regularly sailed past queues of up to thirty people. This was because – in the words of Councillor Arthur Cholerton – if these buses stopped to pick up passengers, it would disrupt the timetable.* I think the one way bus service may well have topped the no-passenger model. I think the people of Wiltshire can feel rightly proud of their council’s accomplishment. And they’ll have a lot of spare time to feel proud in. Wiltshire District Council, we salute you!

Source: The Book of Heroic Failures (1979). Stephen Pile (An excellent read).

September 20, 2011
7 Reasons T’ Talk Like A Pirate

Avast, me hearties! ‘Tis Long Jon Gold. T’day, as if you needed remindin’, be International Talk Like A Pirate Day. And here be seven o’ t’ finest reasons why you should be channelin’ Johnny Depp at this very moment. And while you be readin’ this I be off t’ make Marc ‘Fish Fin’ers’ Fearns walk t’ plank. Yarrr!

1. Bury Bad News. T’day be t’ perfect day t’ tell people that thar be goin’ t’ have t’ be redundancies. Or tell your beauty that you no longer want t’ be with them. Or announce that Nick ‘Smell-O-Panties’ Griffin has moved in next door. No one will ever be able t’ understand you, but your aft be covered.

2. Abuse. It’s a brilliant excuse t’ abuse people you don’t like under t’ pretext that it be just how pirates talk t’ each other. You may have long thought that your colleague be an ol’ scurvy dog, but only now can you actually tell her. You may think you’re best-bucko’s beauty be a complete twazzock, now be t’ time t’ tell him. And her. Just get it off your treaaye*.

3. Innuendo. Of course t’ alternative be that you fancy t’ pants off your colleague and you need an excuse t’ flirt. Talkin’ like a pirate offers you t’ perfect opportunity. What lass wouldn’t be won over upon hearin’, “Ahoy, me beauty! I’d love t’ drop anchor in your lagoon” or, “Ahoy, me lovely, would you let me come aboard?”? And obviously, if you be lass after a bloke, send them an email sayin’ this, “Me porthole, your six pounder, one jolly rogerin’? Meet me in t’ toilets in five.” I promise you it will work.

4. Dress Up. While talkin’ like a pirate be good fun, why not go one step further and dress like one too? T’ be honest, you’d just appear weird if you sat in t’ meetin’, in your tailored suit, talkin’ pirate. It would be much better t’ be dressed as one too. Take George ‘Skull & Cross-Fingers’ Osbourne as an example. At t’ moment he be borderin’ that fine line between bein’ a genius and a fool. Were he t’ be filmed in a cabinet meetin’ just talkin’ like a pirate, those who think he be a fool would have more evidence to support that claim. On t’ other hand, were t’ to be dressed like Hook and accompany his curls with t’ spiel, not only would his credibility shoot through t’ roof, he’d probably also get himself doin’ pantomime in Weston-Super-Mare. And that’s go t’ be a good thin’ for everybody..

5. The Future. If you’ve been wonderin’ whether you be in t’ starboard career, spendin’ a day talkin’ as a pirate will tell you once and for all what your next move should be. If your pirate burr slips in t’ West-country farmer more often than not, it’s definitely time t’ up sticks, invest in a combine ‘arvester and join T’ Wurzels. You’re a natural.

6. Sick Days. After a day o’ talkin’ like a pirate t’ chances be your throat will be so sore you won’t be able t’ talk at all. So, take t’ day off. Make aye you phone your boss up and breath heavily done t’ phone t’ him/her first, that way they can’t complain that you didn’t try and report in.

7. T’ Alternative. T’ alternative be t’ write like a pirate. That, I asaye you, takes time. I started this post in August. I finished it about ten minutes ago. So based on me experiences, if you were t’ write like a pirate for t’ day you would end up bein’ three weeks behind. And that’s not a good place t’ be. I should be writin’ a mid-October post today. Instead, I’m still writin’ this. One can only assume I will be celebratin’ Christmas, by meself, on 15th January. So, unless you want t’ join me, ignore t’ email for t’ day and get on t’ dog and bone instead. Yarrr!

*’Treaaye’ is pirate slang for ‘chest’. Who knew? Apart from pirates obviously.

September 19, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Grow A Beard This Winter

The full beard, like many types of groomed facial hair, is a beautiful thing. But it’s also one that appears to fallen by the wayside of popular fashion. That is not a trend that Tommy George of www.idealo.co.uk wants to see continue. Here are seven reasons why.

Canada's Adam Kleeberger Keeps His Face Warm During The Rugby World Cup

1. Cost. Razors are expensive. Hair grows for free. You do the math(s). Nowadays, sixteen bladed, all singing, all dancing razor blades that not only scratch your face off but also sing the national anthem of Tonga are all the rage. However, they are REALLY expensive. Expensive enough that if a chap were to stop buying razor blades for an entire month, he could afford a whole set of Lego. Now would you rather have a sore face and no distraction or look cool AND have a ton of bricks to play with?

2. Competition. Men love a competition. Particularly competitions to judge who is most manly. In the animal kingdom, lions, tigers and bears fight and kill for this privilege – all you have to do is grow the best beard amongst your rosy-chopped and clean-shaven peers. All of the bragging rights in the pub – and with it all of the women – will be yours. Sort of like Rasputin, but with an even more mythical effect.

3. Fish Fingers. For gentleman of a more distinguished grey persuasion, it is possible that after several hard months of beard growing, people will mistake you for Captain Birdseye (particularly if you should choose to wear a naval uniform and wink a lot.). Upon realising this, total strangers will offer you the delicious fishy snacks out of pure courtesy. Another saving – and fish fingers don’t come cheap.

4. Fear. No man really likes children. Children are loud, small and, most importantly, banned from the pub – if you’re pub isn’t a swanky gastro-pub with tablecloths and disinfectant in the lager that is. So what better way to scare off little Jonny than to grow an enormous, terrifying beard and mutter under your breath? There is a reason children always cry when sitting on Santa Claus’ knee at Christmas. Use it to your advantage. Or alternatively buy a clown suit.

5. Loss. You will find after your beard advances past a stubbly stage and beyond the echelons of bumfluff, that one can grow quite attached to the looming dark mass upon ones cheeks and become used to the endless compliments that one receives on its behalf. So, when the beard is finally hacked off, the flow of niceties dries up and eventually a feeling of longing for the first follicles of re-growth. They say it is better to have loved and lost – but where beards are concerned, the loss can be simply avoided. With a beard, love and never lose!

6. Food. Beards are a useful source of food. Eating off the beard of a rival (which you may have to do if your rival has read reason two) will give you those much needed calories due to the left over food that can be stored up over a period of time. Either intentionally or not. The smart man with the beard will never go hungry. Whats better than a twelve ounce, juicy, tender, sirloin steak? Finding a twelve ounce, juicy, sirloin steak in your beard two hours later! That’s what.

7. Stroking. Dogs, cats, parrots and, to a lesser extent, crocodiles and tarantulas, all like to be stroked. It is surprising in this age of instant gratification that humans haven’t followed down a similar path to chin tickling heaven. Well children, let me let you in on a little secret, being stroked is great! However, the opportunities for being stroked are considerably limited, but when one arises it is always prudent to be in possession of a long, sleek elegant beard. Then, who knows where the night will take you!

So, gentleman, cast aside your razors and join us in our quest for a simpler, hairier life.

September 17, 2011
7 Reasons That A Red Bucket Is The Most Amazing Thing In The World

Hello 7 Reasons readers. Due to unforeseen circumstances we’re going to publish a guest post on a Thursday, which is something that we’ve never done before. So here, taking up not very much space on the 7 Reasons sofa at all, but making quite a lot of noise and a bit of a smell that we’re pretending not to notice, is today’s guest poster. Possibly our youngest ever.

Hello! My name’s Byron Sebastian Fearns and I’m a baby. Now I may not have seen much in my five and three quarter months, but today the most wonderful thing happened and I was compelled to share with you what I discovered; it is the most exciting thing in the whole history of the world ever. It’s something called a red bucket. Here are seven reasons that it’s more amazing than anything else, even elephants and balls.

1. It’s Red! The first thing I noticed when my mother and father wheeled me through the big building full of shiny stuff and dishcloths and picked up my toy that I now know is called a “bucket” (which rhymes with “fuck it”, a phrase I heard my father say once shortly before mother became very cross) was that it is red. This means that it’s amazing and not blue or yellow like everything else that people buy for me on the basis that “it’s for a boy” or that “yellow is a neutral colour”. I don’t like blue (it is a colour that makes my father cry at football matches) and I’m not neutral. If I liked neutral colours I’d hurl magnolia coloured food at the walls rather than orange coloured food. I like bright colours! I like red!

2. It Makes A Noise! It does! As we perambulated through the big building full of shiny stuff and dishcloths Father turned the bucket upside-down and began banging on the bottom of it. It made a noise like the noise that the man next door makes all day long in his kitchen or the sound that Father sometimes makes with his head on the desk after he has stared at a white screen for a considerable period of time. I’m relatively new to the concept of onomatopoeia, but it made a noise that sounded like thump-thump-diddle-diddle-ump and was very loud. The ladies that live in the big building full of shiny things seemed most impressed.

3. It’s Hilarious! Then we took my bucket to the park where the trees and squirrels live. We lay down on the grass and, after I had completed a short bout of screaming for absolutely no reason, Father said “Look Byron” and put the bucket over his head. This was the funniest thing I have ever seen. Ever! Father then took it off his head and put it back on his head and I laughed again. We did this for hours! Father enjoyed this so much that he started rolling his eyes and staring at his watch with delight.

4. It Makes Another Noise! Just when I felt that I might eventually tire of Father putting the bucket on his head, taking it off again and then putting it back on his head, something amazing happened. Father coughed and it sounded like the deepest loudest sound ever heard by anyone at all. This was hilarious. I laughed for ages. Then Father made other noises in the bucket too and they were even funnier. They were so funny that I laughed more than I ever have before; they were so funny that Mother had to edge slowly away from us in case she injured herself with all of the fun; they were so funny that Father suddenly became religious and started asking god when he could go home. He spoke to god in the bucket! Oh, how I laughed.

5. It Moves! Then Father stood up and started running round the park with the bucket on his head and pretended to be a monster (which is a creature similar to a dog). “Rooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrr!” he said as he ran round a tree; “Roooooooooaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrr!!!!!!!!!!!” he said as he ran past a bench; “Rooooooaaaaarrrrrrr!!!!!!!” he said as he ran behind a bush”; “Aaaaaaaaaarrrrggghhhhhh!!!!!!” screamed a tour group from behind the bush; “Roooooaaaaaaarrrrrrr!!!!!” he said as he ran back from the bush; “OOOOWWWWWW!!!!!!!!” he said as he fell over a bin. Then he said a word that I’ve never heard before and Mother shouted a lot and we had to go home.

6. It’s Red Inside Too! On the way home Father put the bucket on my head and I thought it was the most awesome and amazing thing that it’s possible for any human to experience, ever. It turned everything in the world red and when I made a noise it was the biggest noise that anyone has ever made. It was bigger even than the noise that Father made when I weed on his coat as he was changing my nappy at the National Railway Museum. It was amazing! Then Father took the bucket off my head and the next-door-neighbours were there and they seemed concerned.

7. I Can Get In It! After a long – and really boring – conversation with the neighbours about babies and the bucket and stuff we got home and then something happened that was the most incredible, fantastical and phantasmagorical thing of all. I got into the bucket!

Look at me! I’m in the bucket.

Then Father took the bucket away and told me if I ever wanted to see it again I had to write today’s 7 Reasons post as he has something called a “headache”, which he says is a contagious disease that is contracted by proximity to children. So now I’ve written it I’m going to get the bucket back and play with it all day every day for a week. Or perhaps a month! I’m off to play with my bucket now. Bye-bye.

September 15, 2011
7 Reasons The Playground Is A Metaphor For Life

I’m sitting in the park. It’s August but it’s gloomy, dank and wet. There’s no one else around. The playground ahead of me is completely empty. I stare for a while. Thinking back to the days when it would have been acceptable for me to run over and jump on the swing. Then I realise something. I’m already on a swing. And a merry-go-round. And a see-saw. The playground ahead of me is just a metaphor for what we experience every day. Here’s why:

1. Swings. Back and forth, back and forth. Sometimes quick, sometimes slow. It’s just like commuting to and from work everyday. Or doing the school run. Sometimes we want it to speed up. To get us through the day. Sometimes we want it to slow down. So we can live the moment for longer. Most of all though, sometimes it makes us throw-up.

2. Slides. It takes time and effort to get to the top. For what? Just to slide straight back down to earth, on your backside, at twice the speed.

3. Merry-Go-Rounds. You go round and round and round in circles. Then you feel dizzy, have a lie down, get up and get back on. And we repeat this ridiculous lifestyle choice for eternity. We’re idiots.

4. See-Saw. Up and down, up and down. All while some git tries to make you fly off and smash your head on the concrete floor. Well, it was concrete in my time. It’s probably wood-chippings now. It’s health and safety gone mad.

5. Climbing-Frame. It doesn’t matter which route you take, the view from the top is always the same – usually some bloke with his tongue down your girlfriend’s throat behind the cricket pavilion.

6. Monkey Bars. You pull yourself up, you think you look cool and then your pants fall down. You lower yourself and realise your pride hurts only slightly more than your biceps.

7. Sand Pit. It’s pretty standard. You make your castle only for some twat to come along and kick it to smithereens. Good name for a 1960s band that, The Smithereens. I was so after my time.

September 14, 2011
7 Reasons That I Hate The Man At The Pub

It was all going so well. All I had to do was go to an unfamiliar pub and meet four friends that were there waiting for me. But there was a man at the pub who cocked it all up and made everything infuriatingly difficult. Here are seven reasons that I hate him.

1. The Man At The Pub Is In My Way. Exiting the bar with a pint in my hand and entering a narrow, dimly-lit anteroom with tables and stools situated haphazardly on either side of barely delineated central walkway I walked past a couple of tables and spotted my friends seated approximately two tables away, ahead of me and to the right. I moved toward them squeezing between the stools on the cluttered walkway. But there was a problem. There was a man also squeezing his way through the cluttered throng of drinkers, tables and stools in the opposite direction, heading toward me. Fairly soon he was in my way.

2. The Man At The Pub Moves In The Wrong Direction. As an Englishman I did what came naturally and stepped to my left as I approached him, in the knowledge that when he moved to his left, there would be sufficient room for us both to pass; assuming that we turned sideways, squeezed in and stopped breathing (because everyone stops breathing when performing this sort of manoeuvre, even though there is no earthly reason for doing so). But the man didn’t move to his left, he moved to mine (his right). He was still in my way.

3. The Man At The Pub Is Stupid. No, that’s uncharitable. He’s not necessarily stupid, I thought. Perhaps he hails from a country where they drive on the right. Perhaps he doesn’t drive. Perhaps he’s drunk; he does, after all, have a pint in his hand. I did what any other sensible person would do, given that he was to my left. I stepped to my right. But at the same moment that I moved to my right, he moved to his left. We had both moved but were both still blocking each other’s path. Bugger.

4. The Man At The Pub Is Still In My Way. Oh God, I inexplicably thought, to a being that I don’t believe in, this could go on all night. This could be one of those occasions where I and a random unwitting partner selected purely by proximity and happenstance perform the tentative and ungainly dance that I know as The Get-The-Hell-Out-Of-My-Way-And-Stop-Shuffling-From-Side-To-Side-In-Front-Of-Me-You-Simpering-Ninny. A blushing teenage girl and I once performed this dance on a narrow pavement outside of the Lewes branch of Waitrose for a full fifty seconds; replete with breezily uttered apologies, good-natured rolling-of-the-eyes, winsome shrugs and staccato bursts of nervous laughter. It was excruciating. I wanted to die. I wished the ground would open up and swallow me (which would actually have solved the problem). There was no way I was going to repeat that again. I resolved not to move any more this time. “Sorry”, I said to the man with the pint, instinctively, at the same time as he said “sorry” to me. Ah, I thought, he is English after all.

5. The Man At The Pub Is Mysterious. Then something else hit me. This man looked vaguely familiar. We regarded each other for a split-second, but I wasn’t quite sure who he was. It was one of those moments, when, in the back of your mind, you know that you know a person but for whatever reason – usually to do with seeing them outside of their usual context – you can’t quite place them. This was perplexing.

6. The Man At The Pub Is Confused. I noticed that my friends – who were frustratingly still ahead of me and to the right, as the man and I were going nowhere, were all looking at me – two were pointing – and roaring with laughter. They were hysterical. I failed to see how two grown men trying to get out of each other’s way in a pub was quite that funny, but then I noticed something quite odd. Although my friends were seated ahead of me and to the right, the sound of their laughter was coming from behind me and to the right. I turned to face the sound. My friends were sitting there. I turned back to face the man blocking my path. Then I realised why he looked familiar. He was me. I was the man in my way.

7. The Man At The Pub Is A Laughing Stock. It turned out that some bright spark had come up with the brilliant idea of covering the entire back wall of a small, dimly lit room with a mirror to make it appear lighter and airier and the customers appear stupider. As I turned and walked toward the table where my friends were still laughing uproariously, the sniggering barmaid was busy collecting glasses there. Feeling rather embarrassed and wishing to downplay the act of foolishness that I was slowly realising I would never, ever be allowed to forget I sought a crumb of comfort from her. “That must happen all the time,” I stated blithely to her. “No.” She replied rather haughtily, “that’s never happened before”. With that, she turned away and walked out of the room, back to the bar, from where we could hear her sobs of laughter for many minutes. The evening didn’t go well. Still, as long as I don’t write about it, no one else will ever know. Oh. Bugger.

September 13, 2011
7 Reasons To Go Out Into The Wind

If you’re in Britain at all which, in 7 Reasons terms, is statistically likely, you can’t have failed to notice that it’s extraordinarily, astonishingly, epically windy outside at the moment. But the wind isn’t a bad thing. In fact, going out into the wind could well be the best thing for you. Here are seven reasons why.

I shall probably have nightmares featuring this image.

1. You’ll Have More Time. Have you any idea how much of your life is spent drying your hair? Absolutely loads. You’d probably find it amounts to years, if you were to spend even more time adding it all up. But you can save all that time. If you go outside into the wind, you’ll have drier hair. You hair will not only dry quickly, but it’s so windy out there that it will possibly remain dry forever. It’ll be drier than a salty desert; drier than a dry martini that has evaporated in the sun; drier than a Mormon in a towel; drier than fire (though hopefully not the same colour). If you go outside right now, you’ll never, ever need to dry your hair again. That’s like being given the gift of time.

2. You’ll Be More Beautiful. Competing cosmetics brands spend billions of pounds, dollars, euros, ringgits, zlotys and yen trying to convince us their product is the best for us. One of the things that they all agree on though, is that exfoliating is the key to naturally beautiful skin. If you go out into the wind right now, you’ll find that exfoliation is free. You’ll find that the wind is so strong that layers of dead skin are blown clean away from your face, leaving you both ruddy and beautiful. You’ll be ruddy beautiful. You might find that so many layers of skin are blown away that you’re left with your original baby-skin which, as we all know, is the softest, most lovely thing in the world outside of a gin distillery. And it’s free.

3. You’ll Be Sexier. What’s the universally acknowledged sexiest moment in film? No, it’s not the scene where Meg Ryan gets excited about sandwiches (unless you’re a weirdo, a pervert or are very hungry), it’s the scene from the The Seven Year Itch where, gently wafted by a breeze emanating from a subway grate, Marilyn Monroe’s dress billows upward revealing something hitherto unimagined by unsuspecting filmgoers. Women have legs! This is the universally acknowledged most sensual moment in the history of cinema. Similarly, if you go out into the wind in a dress you’ll find that it will billow, ripple and balloon too. The wind’s so strong at the moment that it’ll probably blow clean over your head. Just by doing the maths you can tell that an incident that reveals that much more flesh and structural garments will make you many times sexier than Marilyn Monroe in the sexiest cinema moment ever. You’ll be the sexiest woman in the world, even if you’re a man. If you want to be sexy, you need the wind.

4. You’ll Be Healthier. What’s the key to health? Exercise. Want exercise? Go outside right now. I went out into the garden earlier and soon found myself vaulting over a wall and giving chase to a garden ornament belonging to my son that had been suddenly taken by the wind and was skittering down the street. After a sprinting for many, many yards past several startled neighbours and a wild-eyed dog I caught up with it and trapped it with my foot. As I returned to my garden with the turquoise windmill spinning wildly in my hand I knew I was fitter for the unexpected exercise. I looked like an idiot, but you can’t have everything.

5. You’ll Be Wealthier. There are untold riches just waiting for you out there in the wind. Want to profit from this literal windfall? Here’s how: Firstly, go out into your garden and make sure that everything you own outside in the wind is secure. Secondly, go inside and wait. When the wind stops blowing, you’ll find that you have all sorts of new treasure. You’ll have bags, you’ll have paper stuff, you’ll have new plants, you’ll probably have a dress and a turquoise windmill. You’ll have booty! Absolutely anything could turn up. It’s like a free lucky dip or a meteorological tombola. A windswept sweepstake. A gale lottery. Weather bingo!

6. You’ll Be Wiser. Remember the Aesop fable about the sun and the wind having a bet to see if they could make a man remove his cloak and the wind failing abjectly at this task? No? Go outside with a cloak on then and see if you want to take it off. That’s practical learning. Plus you might be able to use it to fly.

7. You’ll Feel Better. What do Scandinavian types do to cheer themselves up when their favourite elk dies or they find that their new wardrobe has one bolt missing and the instructions have apparently been translated into gibberish? They get into the sauna and beat themselves with twigs and leaves. No one knows why they do this*, but they claim that it makes them feel good. So imagine how great you’ll feel when you go outside and stand next to a tree. At the moment, you’ll be beaten black and blue by all manner of twigs and leaves swirling round in the air at improbable speeds. You’ll be battered into happiness, buffeted into joy, knocked about into light-heartedness and marmalised into merriment. You’ll feel better than you ever have in your life. Go outside right now, it’ll be the best thing you’ve ever done! Oh, and can you pick up something for my dinner while you’re out there? I’m staying in.

*Okay, someone probably does.

September 12, 2011