Tag: Lie

7 Reasons These Excuses Are Not Silly

Ministers have released the top ten ‘silliest’ excuses as used by benefit cheats. If you haven’t read them yet, you’ll be able to watch the countdown on BBC Three later this year. It’s narrated by Richard Bacon with insights from a bloke who once pretended he didn’t work in Lidl. Understandably. My issue with this programme is that it’s clearly going to be an excuse to laugh at people who are unable to articulate. As such they sound stupid. Having looked through the excuses I am saddened that they are are deemed silly. At least seven are very legitimate. Here’s why:

Ladder Therapy

1. “I had no idea my wife was working! I never noticed her leaving the house twice a day in a fluorescent jacket and a ‘Stop Children’ sign.” – Hardly surprising given that this man is obviously blind. The ‘Stop Children’ signs don’t come in braille you know.

2. “I wasn’t aware my wife was working because her hours of work coincided with the times I spent in the garden shed.” – This man’s wife was clearly hiding the fact that she worked by playing an elaborate game of hide and seek. Every morning she told her husband to hide. He scurried off to the shed and only appeared when his wife returned home and shouted, “I give up!”

3. “He does come here every night and leave in the morning and, although he has no other address, I don’t regard him as living here.” – Shelter are a fantastic charity. For them to be pulled up on this is a disgrace and an insult. I suspect the thousands of volunteers who give up their time to help those less fortunate than themselves feel really great now. Well done ministers.

4. “I didn’t declare my savings because I didn’t save them, they were given to me.” – Is having a basic grasp on the English language seen as a bad thing now then? Surely to declare savings under the pretence that you saved them is fraud?

5. “I wasn’t using the ladders to clean windows, I carried them for therapy for my bad back.” – A man (or woman) with a whole lot of common sense. Instead of spending his (or her) benefits on expensive therapists, he (or she) purchased a ladder. It was just as effective and instead of weekly payments of £40, cost just an initial £15. I don’t understand why ministers have a problem with this. Surely they want people to show initiative? If people can find methods of lowering their outgoings how is that not a good thing? One day this man (or woman) might buy a bucket and become a window cleaner. Good for him (or her).

6. “We don’t live together he just comes each morning to fill up his flask” – Well, this clearly shows that sexism is still rife in the ministerial hood doesn’t it? Just because this woman is single, it doesn’t mean she wants to get into a relationship with every builder whose bum she spies. This woman is perfectly entitled to share her tea bags with whomever she wants. It’s 2011 for goodness sake.

7. “It wasn’t me working, it was my identical twin.” – Which only goes to prove that one half of Jedward always mimes.

May 31, 2011
7 Reasons to Have a Lie-In

1. Avoid The Sun. Spending an extra hour in bed in the summer means that you avoid an extra hour of exposure to the sun, This is a good thing. The sun gives cancer; the sun gives burn; the sun can cause blindness. It’s a hazard. When people are exposed to the sun, their skin warms and darkens like that of a chicken in an oven. This is because the sun is slowly cooking us, though for what nefarious purpose, I cannot begin to speculate. The sun is evil: Stay in bed and avoid it.

2. Regress. Being a grown-up is not always fun – I am told – and sometimes a return to more infant-like-state is just the tonic that an adult needs. Being in bed is oft compared to being in the womb; naked, yet protected, insulated from the outside world by the smothering, security of the duvet. It’s better than that though. Being under the duvet is also like being in a den. And what better place is there for your inner-child than a den?

3. Mornings. The morning is the wrong time to be up and about. It’s the time of day when you stumble around bleary-eyed trying to pour coffee and multivitamins into yourself in an attempt to feel vaguely human, and usually fail. The morning is full of dull events like selecting a shirt; commuting; the consumption of muesli; junk-mail; conversations about last night’s television. If you lie-in though, you suffer less morning and you’re more alive and alert when the best part of the day comes; the evening. All of the best, most glamorous and wondrous things happen in the evening; award ceremonies; parties; dining out; gigs; owls; theatre performances, they’re all things that happen at the better end of the day that you shouldn’t be too tired to enjoy.

4. Plans. People plan things, it’s what we do. You probably had today already mapped out before you went to bed last night. But plans aren’t a good thing: The CIA planned to assassinate Fidel Castro; Hitler planned World War II; the VCCP agency planned the Compare The Meerkat advertising campaign; an idiot planned Milton Keynes. If you spontaneously decide to lie-in, you say “no” to plans and liberate yourself from their fiendish tyranny.

5. Toast Avoidance. One of the hazards of mornings is toast which, for some reason, doesn’t exist after 11am. Stay in bed: Avoid toast.

6. Romance. You don’t have to lie-in alone, you can share your den…er…bed with someone else. You can even have breakfast-in-bed together. Not toast, obviously, as the crumbs will get everywhere and could be physically painful: Imagine trying to sleep on a toast-crumb covered pillow. But, even if there is toast, it’s still quality time with a loved one, and that must be a good thing.

7. Health. Sleep debt is the name for a cumulative lack of sleep. It is said to shorten life. So, logically, for a longer life you should be in sleep credit. A lie in will help with this. You can also become immortal by sleeping for 24 hours per day – though modern science is yet to cotton on to this – which, ironically, would make immortality almost exactly like death, but without the flowers. Or I may have dreamt that last bit during a lie-in, I’m not certain.

June 3, 2010
7 Reasons To Have Milk

1. You can play professional football. Or at least you can play for Accrington Stanley. A club whose trials – according to Ian Rush – include the ability to pass, shoot, head, tackle, swear at the referee and drink milk.

2. It stops you falling over. Milk makes your bones strong. Strong bones mean standing up straight. No one will laugh at you if you stand up straight.

3. The Milk Moustache. I don’t have to put my contacts in to realise that Elizabeth Hurley is a splendidly attractive lady. Though I did have to put them in to work out what was on her top lip in this ad. It’s milk. Definitely milk. I’ll be honest with you, it does something for me. Even more impressive is the choice of glass. Note it’s Hurley-esq shape. Clever. Anyway, drink milk to make a milk moustache and send the photos to us.

4. You’ve just won the Indy 500. Since the late 1930s, the winner of the Indy 500 has been given a bottle of milk to celebrate with. The driver even gets to choose from three different varieties. Whole, 2% or skimmed. I can only assume that caps react in different ways depending on the fat content.

5. You’ve got a banana. Don’t you just hate it when you discover a banana on your person, but no bottle of milk?

6. Play catch-up. Now, whether you think Margaret Thatcher was right to stop free milk for school children is an entirely different debate. Which is probably just as well seeing as I can only think of two reasons why it was a good idea and one reason why it was not. That’s well short of the seven reasons I need. But I digress. The fact is that Maggie did stop the milk. And as a result millions of children missed out on a pint of the white stuff every morning break. It’s time to play catch up before it’s too late.

7. You’ve been lied to. You see those white marks on your fingernails? Well that is leukonychia. The result of a lack of calcium. Or so my parents told me when I was a child of the eighties. I am now 26 and I have just found out that this was a lie. A lie! A lie to make me drink more milk. In the last twenty years I have milked dozens of cows dry just to try and get rid of the imperfections. (The marks on my nails I mean, not the cows). And today, just after I have bought another eight pints, I find out that the white marks are just a result of trapping my finger in a drawer about six months ago. I’m incandescent with rage.

January 20, 2010