Tag: Jonathan Lee

7 Reasons Text Abbreviations Are Confusing

Via: roadsidescholar.com

1. U2. As in, ‘I’m going to the festival! U2?’ Now what I understand from this is that someone is going to a festival. What I can’t work out is whether they are asking me if Bono is playing, if there is a submarine docking station nearby or whether I am going too.

2. LOL. As in, ‘Was great to see you today. LOL.’ Does that mean lots of love or are they laughing at me? Outloud? Are they being sarcastic? My Mum doesn’t want to see me again does she?

3. ATM. As in, ‘Hi. I’m in Barclays ATM. See you in five minutes.’ What?! How on earth did they get inside an automated teller machine? And how do they know it’s only going to take them five minutes to get out? Is this a regular occurrence? Oh good golly! I’m friends with a serial cashpoint raider.

4. PLZ. As in, ‘It would be great if you could join me plz.’ Again I’m very confused. Do they want me to join them at Port Elizabeth Airport or in a random German postcode (or Postleitzahl)? There is quite a difference.

5. TOY. As in, ‘I hope it goes well today. TOY.’ What is this? A name change? A new signature? Is it a new nickname for me? Do they just think I am a play thing? I’m being used. That means last night I was abused.

6. ENUF. As in, ‘ENUF is ENUF’. The Ethiopian National United Front is The Ethiopian National United Front? Why am I being told this? If I knew one I probably knew the other. Did my previous message imply that I was in a pub quiz? My brain hurts.

7. BOT. As in, ‘Anyway, BOT.’ Are they referring to me as a robot or do they just want to address my backside? Something that sounds quite painful in all honesty. Especially if they intend to use a franking machine. And what happens if they don’t want to treat it as first class? Because I do. I treat my backside with the utmost respect. But I digress, let’s get back on topic.

March 24, 2010
7 Reasons The French Couldn’t Invade The UK

1. Language. A successful French invasion would result in the British speaking French. That’s not happening. The British have about as much interest in learning French as they do in my trousers. They are also incapable of learning something so… well… pointless. (The British I mean, not my trousers. Though, come to think of it, my trousers are fairly incapable in that department too). The fact is, we Brits just wouldn’t turn up to the classes. The French would eventually get fed up and go home. Then they’d find that while they were out for the day we took over. Genius.

2. Beaches. The French have dainty little feet. It’s a well known fact, in my mind, that they spend 56% of their time in the bathroom moisturising their toes. If they try and invade by boat it means making an assault via our beaches. These are made from stone. That’s enough to make them turn around and run out of petrol in the middle of the English Channel. Please note that name. The English Channel. None of this French Chanel No.5 rubbish.

3. Flights. Attempting to invade by plane would be particularly stupid as most of the planes destined for Heathrow get diverted to Charles de Gaulle anyway. Or Luton. Both are pretty horrendous.

4. Time Difference. The French are an hour ahead of the British. Not in common sense, just in time. Supposing the French finish work at 5pm their time. It would take them two hours to get to London. That would be 6pm our time. Rush hour. Told you they didn’t have common sense.

5. Food. There is no point in invading and then going home for tea. We’d just take our country back. The French would actually have to occupy the UK. This would mean eating British food. Well they’re not going to do that are they? Who wants a plate of fish and chips when you can have frog’s legs dipped in snail fluid?

6. Nelson. Horatio still gives the French nightmares. That is why you never see an onion-selling cyclist in Trafalgar Square. Fancy losing a battle to a bloke with one arm and one eye. Do you know how difficult it is steer a ship with one arm and one eye? That’s pretty lame France.

7. Scared. The French are big pansies. In the early 1800’s Nelson had both the French and Spanish fleets blockaded in at Toulon. Instead of fighting back, they slipped through the back entrance. (A nasty habit). Nelson ended up having to chase them all the way to the West Indies. And back again. And they still didn’t bloody engage in battle. If that is their attitude how could they possibly invade the UK? They’d run away crying if the foghorn on the Calais to Dover ferry was a bit too loud.

March 22, 2010
7 Reasons To Invade France

1. Riots. There is nothing the French like more than a riot. Half the time it doesn’t have to be about anything particular, they just like getting out there and giving it a go. They haven’t had one for a while so let’s give them something to riot about. I suspect, us invading – and the French Army waving us through – will work.

2. Language. French is just very silly. What is it with everything having to be masculine or feminine? In no other language do you refer to a male cat as feminine. In no other language is my toothbrush as masculine as Freddie Mercury. In no other language is my tool box as feminine as Alan Carr. It’s a load of nonsense. Let’s get rid of it.

3. Riviera. I don’t mind the fact that the French have a Riviera. What I do mind is that it is British water they are using. It comes from the South coast of England. I have seen it go out with the tide. It slips down past the West coast of France, past Portugal, sweeps under Spain and then heads up to the South Eastern corner of France. Now, as far as I am aware, the French don’t pay us for it. Nor have they even thanked us. Well if that is their attitude, it’s time to go and get it back.

4. Liberate The Fake Named. Don’t you feel sorry for all those otherwise normally named people trapped in Frenchness. I’m referring to all the Jack’s trapped as Jacques. And the John’s as Jean. And the Peter’s as Pierre. And the Luke’s as Luc. These are men. Or at least they would have been had they not been effeminate-d upon the completion of a birth certificate.

5. Liberate Brittany. Only the bloody French could name a place after a country they pretend to hate. Brittany quite clearly belongs to Britain. In the same way that the vast majority of New England belongs to England. And the vast majority of Koreans belong to Jonathan Lee.

6. Reduce The Cost Of Onions/Garlic/Tights. I bet you didn’t even realise that onions, garlic and tights were that expensive? Well they are. And the reason for that is because the French hoard 98% of the world’s stock. The rest of the world have to fight over the remaining 2%. Of course this means the demand inflates the price to excessive levels. It’s not fair.

7. Take Down The Imitation Blackpool Tower. What is it with the French? Why can’t they have any of their own ideas? I applaud their bottle for sticking a metal pointy thing in the middle of their capital city, but it is clearly a rip-off. It’s time it came down and was replaced by a burger van.

March 18, 2010
7 Reasons You Know Spring Has Arrived

1. Cheery People. As soon as the sun comes out people start smiling and being happy. It’s so annoying. At least it seemed to be for the cashier in WH Smith yesterday. All I said was ‘Good Morning’ and she looked at me as if I’d just molested her cat. (Not that I know what that look is. Obviously).

2. Chuggers. Or to give them their more politically correct name, tossers. Okay that maybe a bit harsh, but there are bloody millions of them now the sky is blue. It’s hard not to feel resentment towards them when you have to get past what seems like the gauntlet from Gladiators everytime you want to get to the tube station.

3. Legs. They are beginning to protrude from shorts. I am not the biggest fan of men’s legs – you’ll probably find a whole other sex who prefer them more than I do – but it is the men who get them out first. It’s that musty aroma you can smell.

4. Near Death Experiences. This may sound cruel, but I strongly oppose mobility scooters – when I am outside. When the sun is out, the brightness makes it much harder to read the cricket score on my phone. Therefore I am going to be concentrating more on getting the angle right than looking where I am going. Under such circumstances I have a habit of not walking in a straight line and so venturing into the path of a mobility scooter is not so much a possibility as a certainty.

5. Australians. Yes, they are arriving. In droves. They seem to disappear during the winter months – probably to hibernate – but now they are back. And why do none of them seem to work? All they do is sit outside the Walkabout, drink and watch me play dodgems with mobility scooters. What am I? A tourist attraction?

6. Builders. Not that it is particularly unusual to see builders, but it is unusual to see them working. Hopefully they’ll get a bit done before they have to stop again in June due to the dangers of sunstroke.

7. Smoke Alarms. This might sound strange, but the warmer it gets the more regular the sound of a smoke alarm. Usually mine. I would like to blame this on an electrical fault, but no one is going to believe that. It’s more to do with the fact that I put cheese-on-toast under the grill, head off to open the windows and accidentally become distracted in front of the mirror.

March 16, 2010
7 Reasons I Can Never Get Mothering Sunday Quite Right

1. The Name. My Mother is a traditional Mother. She takes two steps back if I say the wrong thing. And the wrong thing is Mother’s Day. “It is not Mother’s Day, Jonathan. It is Mothering Sunday.” Yes Mum.

2. Cards. Apart from having to ignore all the cards which say Happy Mother’s Day in the search for one that says Happy Mothering Sunday, I can never find one which doesn’t make me sound completely effeminate. I am quite happy telling my Mum she is the greatest in the world (because she is), but goodness knows what she must be thinking when I hand her something that says, ‘You are the blooming flower of my Spring, the sunshine of my Summer, the tumbling conkers of my Autumn and the turkey of my Winter’.

3. Flowers. My Mum likes flowers. I believe it’s a female thing. The problem is I can never remember which flowers my Mum likes. Sure she’ll say she likes everything, but I know for a fact that that isn’t quite true. She does have her favourites and she does tell me a day or so after the Mothering Sunday flowers have died. So why can I never remember what she said 350 days later? It’s one of life’s cruelties.

4. Music. As well as flowers I like to buy my Mum a gift. In recent years I have taken to buying her a CD. She likes The Hollies and Herman’s Hermits. My inability to mentally separate one from the other means she now has four copies of Herman’s Hermits Greatest Hits. Five if you are reading this after Sunday.

5. Household Chores. It’s not that I am bad at the ironing. Or the washing up. Or the drying up. It’s just that it is a Sunday. And on Sundays there is invariably sport on the TV. I have a habit of watching sport. Until, that is, I hear the opening of an ironing board, upon which I jump from my seat and race to the utility room where I find my Mum doing the ironing that I would eventually have started when the game had finished. On telling her to go and sit down she says, ‘No, I don’t want these being done at 7pm’. So I leave.

6. Cooking. Apparently burning doesn’t go down too well. The really frustrating thing is that when I cook for myself I never have any problems. Put a hungry woman in front of me though and I lose the plot. This year I am going to cook for myself on Friday, freeze it and reheat it on Sunday. What could possibly go wrong?

7. I’m Not There. This is probably the thing I get wrong most of the time. It is so much harder to cook the dinner, do the ironing and give her flowers when I am not actually in the same house. Ah well, there is always next year.

March 12, 2010
7 Reasons To Name Your Son Troy

1. Looks. When you think of the name Troy, you probably think of the film which starred Brad Pitt as Achilles. Or Stingray which starred Troy Tempest as a puppet. Both are handsome chaps so I am told. (Troy Tempest – who went on to be Scott in Thunderbirds – was modelled on James Garner). Even if your son is a bit odd looking in reality, he will be sex on legs by association.

2. Meaning. Troy means ‘descendant of a footsoldier’. If he has pride in his heritage you won’t have to waste money on blister plasters.

3. Brand. The name Troy is ready made for a multi-national corporation. You can imagine your son growing up to be the new Donald Trump. Troy Towers. Troy Holidays. Troy Trains. And the really good news is that www.mynameistroy.com is currently available.

4. Respect. The name is cool. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. In a class full of Jacks and Toms and Richards, Troy will stand out. Everyone will want to be his friend. He’ll probably be the new Danny Zuko.

5. Intimidating. As well as being a cool name, it will also make people cower. ‘I am Troy’ sounds so much more demanding than, ‘I am Justin’. We don’t live in a perfect world. People will look at Troy’s CV and think, ‘I better employ this guy or else he’s going to come looking for me.’

6. Friends. Parents of Troy’s friends will immediately suspect you as being weird for giving your son such a bizarre name. I accept that this may not sound like a convincing reason, but surely it is better for them to think you are weird and then discover you are not than to think you are normal and then discover you are in fact loons.

7. Mother-in-law. This doesn’t affect me so much as I have a habit of getting on well with mothers, but if you do dread the idea of visiting the mother-in-law I imagine calling her grandson Troy will mean you are only invited round once a decade.

March 10, 2010
7 Reasons Radio DJs Annoy

1. Singing Along. Why do some DJs seem to think they are also singers? I don’t mind them singing along to Phil Collins’ version of You Can’t Hurry Love – indeed I’ll be doing the same – but please switch the mic off first. Or at least get one of the funky little voice boxes that makes you sound like an alien. That would be cool.

2. Talking Over Tracks. Usually when the DJ has got bored with all the singing along, he or she will fade out the track so they can talk over it. And usually its not even a comment about the song. It’s to tell us that they have just been given a coffee. And a plain digestive. Thanks. That’s really interesting. Though next time perhaps you could just interupt Phil Collins if we are being invaded by the French or the traffic reporter has just whipped her bra off.

3. Inane Comments. Why do DJs feel the need to impart some sort of wisdom after every song? This morning I had the mispleasure of catching the last five minutes of Sarah Kennedy on Radio 2. (Your Love Keeps Lifting Me) Higher & Higher by Rod Stewart was just coming to the end which prompted Kennedy to say, ‘Be careful. You’ve ruffled my tutu.’ Not only did I not understand where this comment had come from, the thought of it made me feel quite ill.

4. Questions. Does anyone actually answer when the DJ says, ‘Hello. How are you?’ or ‘Have a good weekend?’ If you do I think you will be recaptured soon, so just sit tight.

5. Humour Bypass. Most DJs think they are funny. They are not. Steve Wright particularly annoys me. There was a time when I found him quite amusing. I think this must have gone to his head because these days he seems to think he is getting funnier by the hour. Someone should really tell him funnier and fatter are two very different things.

6. See You Tomorrow. No you won’t. That is a stupid thing to say. The only thing you will be seeing is a microphone and a set of headphones. The only thing I will be seeing is a radio. You don’t even know I exist. I mean nothing to you. You don’t even know my mother’s maiden name. So stop talking to me as if you do.

7. Responding To Lyrics. Note to DJs. It is not always necessary to try and improve a song by answering or pre-empting lyrics. When Brandon Flowers sings, Are we human or are we dancer? I really don’t need you to fade the music down a bit and say, ‘Can’t we be both?’ Nor do I like it when you play Take That and you feel the urge to say, ‘Sing up Robbie’. Just shut up, play your records and go to the news. That’s all you need to do.

March 8, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: How To Write A 7 Reasons Post

Since the inception of 7 Reasons, we have – as often as possible – given our Saturdays over to one of you. It helps mix it up and I am sure it’s always good to have a different tone of voice to enjoy your breakfast with. However, the feedback we always get from our guest writers is, ‘it was really hard to think of 7 reasons’. The answer we usually get from people we approach to write for us is, ‘no, I won’t be able to think of 7 reasons for anything’. Well by way of an education, this is my attempt at showing you how it can be done.

1. Everything is a possible subject. Wherever you are, look around you. (Though come back to the screen in 10 seconds because I still require your attention). Whatever you can see could be a subject. A vase. A chair. A window. A packet of chocolate digestives. Just pick one.

2. Question Time. Ask yourself questions about your chosen subject. Let’s say it’s a vase. (I haven’t thought about this before. I am writing it as I go. If it goes horribly wrong I’ll rewrite using biscuits, but that won’t happen because I have faith in my ability to write about vases). a) What would I do to that vase to make it better? b) Why is it made out of glass? c) What else could it be used for?

3. Answer your questions. a) Make it bigger. Make it stronger. Paint it a different colour. b) Because cardboard would get damp. Because that’s what glassmakers make things out of. c) Holding pencils. Carrying water. Carrying petrol. Knocking a robber over the head.

4. Analysis. Which answers do you like better? Which do you feel you could write most confidentally about? Which answers did you enjoy writing more. For me, it was probably the answer to ‘c)’.

5. Conclusion. Work out what you’ve written. In this instance I have written down four uses for a vase. Well I can’t do, 7 Uses For a Vase, the poxy website is called 7 Reasons. How am I going to get reasons in there? Play around with it. Make different words the subject of your title. 7 Reasons To Use A Vase. 7 Reasons A Vase Is Useful. 7 Reasons To Own A Vase. And there it is. 7 Reasons To Own A Vase.

6. Expand. You already have four reasons for this. Okay so carrying water and carrying petrol are very similar so maybe that’s one reason. You need four more. What’s the obvious reason? To put flowers in. At this point you’re probably thinking that’s not funny. That’s because it’s not. So twist it. What would happen if you didn’t have a vase and someone bought you flowers? Where would you put them? In the plug hole? Probably not. That’ll be a nuisance when doing the dishes. In a glass? A cocktail umbrella is probably better. That’s four reasons. What else could you use it as? Again look around. It’s sunny. You could use it to magnify the suns rays and make a small fire. That chair, the leg is a bit wobbly. Put the shorter leg in the vase. Look at the vase. The shape of it. It makes your face look a funny shape. A bit like those funny mirrors at fairgrounds. What a great way to keep the children entertained. And for free! I don’t have children? So what? We don’t mind lies. This isn’t the Chilcott enquiry.

7. Shape It. Suddenly you have your 7 reasons. Write them out. Keep them short(ish). Decide an order. The more obvious reasons first, the wild ones later. Above all though, be you and be your writing style. Then send it to us. Done.

And that is all there is to it. You want a go now don’t you? Good. We’ll look forward to reading it. (Oh, and if you want to use us to plug your business/blog/twitter account, well Jon is quite happy to take payment, write your reasons and put your name on it. Just don’t tell Marc).

March 7, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Women Are Better Than Men

A few weeks ago we had Emily Clifford on our sofa showing us how it is done. Her post on reasons why men and women shouldn’t converse proved very popular – with women. Because we like women we thought we’d invite Emily back. Unfortunately she has gone AWOL in the Blue Mountains this weekend. Before she went though, she left a note for us under one of the sofa cushions. Jon’s side. It said if we wanted to continue the theme of making women feel superior to men we should speak to her sister. Well one thing led to another and before we knew where we were we found Natalie Clifford clawing at the sofa. We’ve allowed her to stay for the day in exchange for a hugely popular post about the brilliance of man. This is her effort. Oh dear.

1. Looks. It’s not my job to say who designed man and woman, but whoever it was clearly had a deadline and spent 97% of their time on the female body. And they have done a pretty good job with it. As for the man, well it looks as if they had a few left over bits and just cobbled it together. That penis thing. I don’t get how it could have gone so wrong.

2. Communication. Women are good at this as they can put words together to form sentences. Men are useless. Their favourite word is, “nothing”. As in, “What are you thinking about?”

3. Leaders. Men may like to think they are the head of the family but if they were why do they have to ask the woman to do something?

4. Multi-tasking. Men think multi-tasking is watching the football, drinking beer and looking after the remote control. In fact it is doing the ironing while cooking the dinner while helping son number one with his homework while telling son number two off for pulling daughter number one’s hair while she was asking mother if she could have a friend to play.

5. Better friends. When a man starts dating a woman, whose friends do they hang out with more? Yes, the woman’s. And when they get married, whose friends do they stay in contact with? Yes, the woman’s. Half the time a man’s friends don’t even know he has got married. They just think he went to the pub toilet five years ago and didn’t come back.

6. Memory. A woman can remember things like dates. And phone numbers. And names. And ages. And what school the children go to. And what the children’s names are. Men can’t even remember whether they wear glasses or not.

7. Vision. I am not sure what it is about men and their inability to see dust. I don’t adhere to the belief that they just can’t be bothered to clean, I honestly believe they are blind to dirt. Unless it’s on their shirt. In which case they give it to the woman to clean.

March 6, 2010
7 Reasons The New Radicals Should Have Done Their Research

1. Did the Captain of the Titanic cry? No he didn’t. In those days it was seen as a sign of weakness. Eye-witnesses have said he looked calm and in control. Which is quite impressive when you consider he had just smacked into an iceberg and ruined a brand new ocean liner.

2. One day I’ll go dancing on the moon. As good as You Get What You Give was, I doubt the royalties will get you to the moon. The Moon Bar in Nevada maybe, but not the moon. And dancing in gravity boots? By yourself? Seriously?

3. Someday we’ll know if love can move a mountain. No we won’t. We know now. It can’t. Only tectonic plates can do that stuff when they grind against each other rhythmically. And that is not love. It’s sluttish behaviour.

4. Someday we’ll know why the sky is blue. When light from the sun enters our atmosphere it collides with nitrogen and oxygen atoms. The colours with the shortest wavelength are scattered the most. Those colours are blue and violet. Our eyes are more sensitive to blue than violet. Thus we see the sky as blue. Next please.

5. Someday we’ll know why I wasn’t meant for you. You are a man. I am a man. You like girls. I like girls. It’s pretty straightforward.

6. I bought a ticket to the end of the rainbow. Don’t tell me, you also gave some recently orphaned Nigerian your bank details? You’ve been conned. You should pay attention to internet scams more.

7. Someday we’ll know why Samson loved Delilah. Well who doesn’t? After It’s Not Unusual, it is Tom Jones’ finest song.

March 5, 2010