Tag: Lost

Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Men Are Scared Of Washing Machines

Historically much maligned for their domestic idleness, men have come a long way in recent years. Comfortable in the kitchen, happy to do the vacuuming and occasionally enthusiastic about childcare, the age of equality is very much here. Just don’t mention the laundry. It remains a baffling world where fancy, shiny, modern washing machines are viewed as Cyclopean nemeses, brooding away in the corner, ready to punish the simplest label-reading error or colour mix-up.

Here are seven very good reasons why doing the washing is anathema to the male of the species:

1. Men are confused that it has to happen at all, and with such astonishing regularity. Some would quite happily revert back to Victorian times when poor children were sewn into their clothes at the start of winter and then unstitched come the warmer months. Men will happily recycle a garment from the “floordrobe” – pick it up, dust it down, give it a cursory sniff and put it right back on. Who cares if it’s Thursday and they’ve been wearing it since Monday?

2. Powder, tablets, balls, gels – the list of things you can put in a washing machine has seemingly grown exponentially in recent years. It used to be simple – you put the powder in the drawer and that was it. Now some things go in the drawer, some go in the drum and some go in a bag in the drum – it’s become a very, very confusing world. Men would rather not risk putting the wrong thing in the wrong place.

3. Can he put his bath towel in with his pants? Can he wash that white merino wool sweater with his new red socks? Can he chuck his jeans in with his chinos? Constructing the ideal load is a minefield and best left to the experts. Especially after what happened to her favourite white top the last time he tried to be helpful. . .

4. Why are clothing labels full of symbols akin to those found on the walls of Egyptian tombs? A man shouldn’t need a copy of the Rosetta stone to decipher the care label on his favourite T-shirt. All those triangles, squares and circles resemble some kind of devilish cypher that war-time codebreakers would struggle to crack.

5. And if the clothes labels are bad, what about the dials on the machine? All those symbols, programmes AND temperatures – they are just a recipe for disaster. What’s wrong with a big button that just says “wash clothes”?

6. Men famously struggle with having a thorough look for something. A so-called “man look” involves confidently claiming to have looked everywhere for the house keys with no success.

Her: “Have you checked the top drawer in the hall?”
Him: “Yes, I had a look and they weren’t there.”
[Two minutes later]
Her: “Here they are.”
Him: “Where were they?”
Her: “In the top drawer in the hall. You must have had a man look.”

What does this have to do with washing? Well, there are all those pockets to go through and a man knows that he will inevitably fail to remove a golf ball that will proceed to rattle around the washing machine drum for half an hour or a tissue that will deconstruct itself all over a favourite jumper. Oh, and has anyone seen the cat?

7. Finally, doing the washing invariably leads to another baffling exercise: ironing. And that is not a path down which any man wishes to voluntarily tread . . .

July 25, 2013
7 Reasons To Borrow A Cat Flap

Last night, upon viewing a Felix advert, my girlfriend – not for the first time – announced she wanted a cat. Upon enquiring as to why she didn’t get one, I was told that we don’t have a cat flap. (To be honest, I had noticed this before). Sensing my girlfriend’s disappointed I then suggested that perhaps we could borrow our next door neighbour’s cat flap. I didn’t share the seven reasons as to why this is a great idea then, because I wanted to share them with everyone who has a cat flap problem now. (And, I didn’t have seven reasons on me at the time). Here they are:

One flap, half a cat

1. Collection Service. It won’t make any difference to the cat whose flap they enter. The reason a cat enters the home is because they have had enough of being outside. At least that’s my logical conclusion. As a result, all you need is an arrangement with your neighbours. Whenever the cat enters their flap they get on the phone, you whip round, pick it up and bring it home. Then, the next day, you just take the cat round to your neighbours and let it make its own mind up on when it wants to leave the house via the flap.

2. Annoying. As with humans, I imagine a proportion of cats are very indecisive. They’re not sure whether they want to be in or out which means a lot of cat flap exit and entry. Thankfully, it’s your neighbours who will have to put up with the constant opening and shutting of the flap. You, quite frankly, couldn’t care less.

3. Maintenance. Due to the fact that you have an indecisive cat, the wear and tear on your neighbours cat flap is going to be acelerated. Not your problem though is it? They are the ones who will have to invest in WD40.

4. Hole In The Wall. The idea of knocking a hole in the wall to let a cat in or out scares me. What happens if a fox tries to get in? Or a rat? Or an alligator? That’s not the kind of thing I want to meet in the kitchen at 6.30am. Especially as I don’t have my eyes in at that time and as such can’t see a bloody thing. I’ll probably think my girlfriend has brought some crocodile skin boots. Which means we’ll end up having an argument. Firstly, about her choice of footwear attire and, secondly, about why I’ve bought an alligator to bed. I’ll win though. I’ll just tell her we should have borrowed next door’s cat flap. As I had recommended.

5. Community. The chances are that if your neighbours have a cat flap they also have a cat. As with your typical cat-based film, the two cats will argue and fight at first before slowly beginning to accept each other and like each other. They will then set out to patrol the neighbourhood together, fighting the invasion of mice and pigeons. And then presenting them on your neighbour’s carpet.

6. Worry. Now, despite never having had a cat myself, I know that owners start worrying when their feline friends don’t come home for a couple of months. If you are relying on your neighbours to tell you when your cat has returned from a day of adventure, you don’t have to worry so much. So they haven’t been in touch for a few days. That’s easily explained. They might not be in, they might be asleep or they might have moved. The cat it probably fine in Salisbury. Relax!

7. Feeding. With any luck your cat will eat the food that was supposed to be for your neighbours cat. Saving both your money and your nostrils.*

*Having recently fed a cat, I came to the conclusion that to own a cat you must have a permanently blocked nose.

March 14, 2011
7 Reasons It’s At Times Like This I Wish I Was Spanish

For as long as I can remember, 7 Reasons has been on the receiving end of the below email. It’s in Spanish. I speak English. And a little French. And basic business Latin. As a result this email goes straight in the recycle bin. But, just like a Boomerang or Jim Davidson, if you even dare think you’ve got rid of it, it comes back again. And again. And again. Yesterday, I snapped. No longer could I ignore it. I took the time and effort to translate it. Having done so though, I can’t help but think a lot has been lost in Google Translation.

1. Welcome. That is what Bienvenidos means. Or at least that is what Google Translate suggests it means. Is this a Spanish thing? Welcoming you into an email? I thought a welcome was reserved for when you entered a shop or a hotel. I have never once received a letter from Barclays welcoming me. Which is a shame really, I imagine I’d have taken out more loans had they done so. Anyway, from this point on, I am suspicious of this email. And the Spanish in general. Not that the latter takes much, I have been suspicious of the Spanish since the Armada.

2. We have new and updated database of Spanish companies. That’s nice. Shall I reply and tell them about my collection of Wisdens?

3. We invite you to our solutions for effective advertising campaigns. Where are your solutions based I ask myself. Admittedly, it would probably help more if I asked them. As with many things in life it comes down to location, location, location. Yes, all three of them. I dare say if it was Barcelona based, Marc and I would be only too happy to visit the solutions. Sadly though, I suspect Google Translate has missed out the word ‘view’ from between ‘to’ and ‘our’. But this is only guess work. If I could speak Spanish I may well have been supping the delights of various solutions on the Spanish Riviera some eighteen months ago.

4. Offer databases of companies active in the Spanish market would gladly be interested in your products to establish permanent cooperation lines. Oh dear, you’ve lost me again. Something about opening a Co-Op store? Weird people.

5. The effectiveness of our products is guaranteed by the evidence of a growing list of satisfied companies, quickly been able to reach with your offer to new customers. While this is obviously nonsense, I can’t help but applaud the rather brilliant thought process going on here. So brilliant is it that I wish to adopt it for 7 Reasons. From now on the daily brilliance of 7 Reasons is guaranteed by the number of readers we have. For those of you struggling to grasp this concept, don’t worry. I am just addressing the Spanish in their language.

6. The database is updated every three months. In addition, every customer purchasing our database of Companies provide free the first update. See, I told you there was something dodgy about this email. If I purchase the database I then have to give them an update for free. No chance, not on your nelly. Or, not on your Hernán Cortés as they say over there.

7. We will send the product in electronic format and on CD-ROM. I have long held the belief that a CD-ROM is an electronic format, but this news excites me. I’m going to whack my copy of Revolver in a bagel and listen to it on the train to Tunbridge Wells.

March 11, 2011
7 Reasons It’s Outrageous The BBC Have Cancelled Last Of The Summer Wine

1. It Has Sunday Written All Over It. Last Of The Summer Wine is Sunday. On it comes at around 6pm and immediately the nation realises it will soon be Monday. That is Last Of The Summer Wine’s job. Getting people depressed so they start the week off in the right way. Now what are we going to do? We can’t be happy on Monday morning. That would be wrong.

2. The Joke. It’s the same one. It always has been. I haven’t watched every episode of every series. In fact I don’t think I’ve watched even thirty seconds of every series, but that doesn’t matter. Because I know what the joke is. Three blokes flying down a hill in a bath tub. Or on a sofa. Cue two policeman looking alarmed as it buzzes by them. (One of them drops a sandwich too). They don’t write jokes like that anymore. Where am I going to go for my sofa fix?

3. Sex In The Countryside. There is something beautifully innocent about old women sitting in a lounge, eating sticky buns, talking about their husband’s inability to remember to take off their muddy shoes when they come home of an evening. That’s what women should be talking about. We won’t have that again. Instead we’ll have repeats of four forty-somethings, sitting in a New York restaurant, discussing the size of Samantha’s latest pepper grinder conquest. Disgusting. You hear me? Disgusting.

4. Holmfirth. For the uninitiated, this is where Last Of The Summer Wine is filmed. I have never been. Because I don’t need to. Every year, if I want to, I can see how much the place has changed on the TV. Along with all other eight regular viewers. But what are we going to do next year? When it’s no longer on. I’m going to have to go on a coach trip to Holmfirth with eight randomers. I don’t want to go to Holmfirth with eight randomers. It’s bloody miles away.

5. Something Else Not To Watch. I don’t watch Last Of The Summer Wine. No matter what you may think. When the final series finishes though, I won’t be able to not watch it. So that means I’ll have to find something else not to watch to restore the happy balance in my TV viewing. This is pressure. I can’t choose Loose Women because I already choose not to watch it. I’l have to find something I don’t know about on some channel I don’t know about and not watch that instead. What a waste of time.

6. Potential. It promised so much didn’t it? And it was so close to achieving it. What with Russ Abbot playing a milkman who thinks he was once in MI5. What a shame to cancel the show just as it was reaching its climax.

7. 2010: The End. What with Lost ending this year. And 24. And Heroes. And Flashforward. It feels a bit like a salt in the wound to also have Last Of The Summer Wine ending on us. And this comes from someone who didn’t even watch 24. Or Heroes. Or Flashforward. Or Last Of The Summer Wine. Which only goes to show how ridiculous and painful the BBC’s decision is.

June 4, 2010
7 Reasons To Fly A Kite

1. Cats. It’s a well known fact that 80% of all missing cats are somewhere up a tree. 60% of these cats are found when someone accidentally gets their kite tangled up on the same branch. So basically, the morale of this reason is thus: If you’ve lost a cat, buy a kite.

2. Life Skills Training. There aren’t many more annoying things in life than Janet Street-Porter, but trying to fly a kite when there is no wind has to be one of them. Charging up and down the park, dragging a bit of string and cellophane – or whatever that material is – along the ground is enough to give anyone the hump. But this is where perseverance comes in. If at first you don’t succeed, keep trying until the wind comes.

3. You Want To Be David Attenborough. I, myself, have always liked the idea of being a sports commentator. Which is why, whenever I see a dog off it’s lead, I pretend it’s in a Grand Prix. It’s good practice. If you want to make wildlife documentaries, I can’t think of better place to practice than in the park. Preferably one like that in the above photo. You can make insightful comment on the relationship between a giant purple bear and a red lizard without any danger of either of them turning on you.

4. SOS. I know it’s unlikely, but if you ever find yourself on an apparently deserted island, well the best thing you can do is whip out your kite. Fly it high in the sky and there is much more chance of you being spotted and saved before the island monster comes and reads your mind and then kills you.*

5. Hand-eye Co-ordination. If you’ve ever wanted to improve your use of a knife and fork or your ability to text when drunk, then flying a kite surely has to be the perfect practice. Keep the kite in the air, without the strings tangling, without taking out another kite and without walking off the edge of the cliff. The results will be incredible. Don’t believe me? Well, you try using a knife and fork at the foot of the Beachy Head.

6. Chat-up Technique. If you see someone you like flying their kite, all you have to do is ‘accidentally’ run towards them and take their kite out with yours. Or, if you think they’ll provide you with a soft landing, just take them out. The next step is to be apologetic and, before you know it, you’ll be off on a date to the nearest kite repair store. Or the hospital.

7. Watch Retriever. You’ve probably never thought of this, but next time a magpie flies off with your watch, get the kite out. If you are quick enough you can chase after the pesky thing and capture it. Much more bird friendly than a shotgun.

*I might have been watching Lost a bit too much.

May 19, 2010