Tag: LOVE

7 Reasons To Join A Cult

The story of how 7 Reasons formed is not your traditional one. We won’t go into great detail other than to say we met because we were both in a cult. But don’t worry, this cult didn’t involve righteous killing or licking frozen chickens. Anything but. This cult was a friendly one. A cult where American architects sent dragons to newsreaders and people across the land turned the ferret gold. I am sure you are now seeing the light, but if you are still slightly unsure here are seven more reasons to join that cult.

Richard Bacon Was A Cultish Leader

1. New People. A cult is different from exclusive clubs such as The Masons because it is open to all. As a result you will meet a rich and diverse group of individuals from all walks of life. Plumbers, writers, lawyers, singers, doctors, engineers, buskers, perverts. You’ll meet the lot. And because you leave all your prejudices at the door when you enter the cult, you’ll form a bond with each and everyone of them. The most hardened Tory will find joy in conversing with the most radical Socialist. Millwall supporters will appear fluffy and cute. Formerly disgraced Blue Peter presenters will be forgiven. And that sort of thing only ever happens in a cult.

2. Opportunity. Unlike your place of work, there is no hierarchy in a cult. Or, if there is, you can very easily destroy it. You can be anyone you want to be in a cult. You can be a wallflower if you wish, or you can be a leader of men. And women. No one minds. If you are the type of man who has access to both foil and a cat (Marc) you may wish to see if one will walk over the other. But what if you don’t? What if you don’t have foil? Or a cat? What if you are a person in one of those moods and fancies taking the mick out of your leader (Jon)? Well you can do that too. And whats-more, whichever route you choose, whatever you decide to do, you will be celebrated. You will be held in high esteem. You may well start a website.

3. Reward. When you have gone out of your way to entertain those amongst your cult, it is nice to be rewarded. And nothing rewards quite like a cult. Apart from the adulation and admiration from those around you, you may also receive a badge. Or a small motorbike. But it’s usually a badge. And when I say a badge, I don’t just mean a badge, well, obviously I do, because it is a badge, but it’s also more than that. It’s more than a badge. It’s what the badge stands for. It doesn’t just say, ‘Hey, I’m in a cult’, it says, ‘Hey, I’m part of a cult’. And that’s, you know, pretty damn special.

4. Help. Whether you are at school trying to write your Personal Statement or in lying in bed ill, the cult is there to help you. Admittedly, you might not get it right all the time. All your advice may just confuse the lad and mean he misses out on that place at Cambridge University, but no one can accuse you of not trying. For all your failures, you will have hundreds of successes. Like I said earlier, the cult we were in helped turn the ferret gold. But while that was great, it is more the fact that people were there to help turn the ferret gold than the actual turning. And it was the ferret himself who first shared these sentiments. He was right.

5. Meaning. It is very easy to wander along in life, working nine to five and waiting for the weekend. There is nothing wrong with that, but joining a cult will give your life purpose. It’ll mean something to you and, more importantly, you’ll mean something to the cult. It’ll give you direction and hope and love. And let’s face it, there is very little direction, hope and love out there at the moment. Your work isn’t going to give it to you, so why not give the cult a chance?

6. Outside. When you join a cult, you join in trepidation. This is only natural. A cult, after all, has a reputation for being dark and evil and thus it is perfectly understandable if you are initially nervous. No one enters thinking they may leave with a new life. But many do. Many leave with new friends. Some leave with new girlfriends or boyfriends or both. Others leave with ideas. The rest just go to sleep. No one thought this would happen when they joined. No one expected their life to change. But it can. It does. Sure, not all friendships and relationships last, that’s life, but for a moment in time they were very real. And it was the cult that gave you that happiness. Without it, it would never have happened. Obviously, some relationships do last. Like 7 Reasons. A monster that will never be slayed.

7. Death. Eventually, sometimes for reasons outside of your control, your cult will die. You will attend the funeral (or listen to it on the radio) and be filled with deep sadness. But when you come to reflect, you realise the cult hasn’t really died. You just can’t listen to it on BBC Radio 5 Live anymore. It still lives though. In your heart. And on YouTube. You still have the memories of your leader being portrayed as Hitler. You can still listen to the music of the cult’s house band and indeed of the one you may well call T He Digger. You still have the vision of chair legs being broken by that woman who stood on a plinth for a couple of weeks. You still remember that moment when you were denied from asking Chris Evans whether his gingerness had been a help or hindrance. And these thoughts will stay with you forever. No one can take them away from you. And you’ll always be thankful that you could never get to sleep before 00:30.

So, if there is one thing you should spread this Christmas season, it is the joy of the cult.

Thankyou. Jonathan Lee, in the lounge, with his badge.

December 22, 2010
7 Reasons You Should Choose Your Holiday Read Carefully

There’s so much to think about when choosing your holiday read and so much can go wrong. Here are seven reasons that you should do it carefully.

1. The Cover. People say you should never judge a book by its cover. But they do. Which is why everyone who sees your choice of book will automatically form an opinion of you. And it will probably be the wrong opinion. Take Anthony Burgess’s A Clockwork Orange for example. The Penguin Modern Classic version depicts a glass of milk. If I see someone reading a book that has a cover featuring milk I immediately think, ‘Cows. The reader likes cows’. They probably don’t. In fact, had I asked them, they would have probably shrugged with indifference. But that’s the peril of the book cover. To me, that person will always be a cow lover.

2. Trilogies. These are a big no-no. No one reads more than one book on holiday, so never start on a series that is going to take you a further two holidays to finish. By the time the second holiday comes around you’ll have forgotten what happened in the first book. This means you’ll have to read it again, only for the process to repeat itself on the next holiday. Basically, you’ll spend the rest of your life holidaying with the same book. And you’ll never find out who kills who or what the wizard said to the pixie or why the girl next door is so addicted to sex with vampires.

3. Love. Lots of people meet the love of their lives (or their night) on holiday. The last thing you need – having plucked up the courage and charmed a beautiful lady at the bar – is for her to come back to your suite and see your copy of How To Talk Women Into Bed resting on your pillow. That kind of behaviour is strictly frowned upon by the fairer sex. Apparently.

4. Language. When you take a book abroad, it’s disrespectful to your hosts to read an English translation of a book originally written in their language. In Barcelona, several people were upset to see me reading a translation of Lorca’s Yerma, but that was nothing compared to the reaction of Berliners to my English version of Mein Kampf. Never read a translated work. They were livid.

5. Practicality. The Da Vinci Code is the ideal book to take on holiday. If the weather takes a turn for the worse you can use it as kindling; if you spill your drink on the table, it’s quite absorbent; if you need to hold a door in your villa open, you can fashion a papier-mache doorstop from it; if you find that people are trying to engage you in conversation, you can pretend to read it (they’ll soon leave you alone). There’s almost nothing that this versatile book can’t be used for. Except as reading material, obviously. That would be stupid.

6. The Lord Of The Flies. If you have teenage children, do not take this book on your island-break with you. Okay, so it’s pretty unlikely that they’ll put down their iPods and PSPs for long enough to read it, but if they do, they may descend into savagery before you know it. And savages do not make relaxing holiday companions. As anyone that has vacationed in Ayia Napa will testify.

7. Airports. A copy of Frank Barnaby’s How to Build A Nuclear Bomb and Other Weapons of Mass Destruction would be a particularly poor choice of holiday read. It’s sobering, serious and thought-provoking; none of the things that are conducive to the holiday mood as you attempt to relax and get away from it all in your detention cell at Heathrow Airport.

September 8, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Be Happy That She Hates That You Love Sports

If there is one thing you know about us, it is that we are British. As a result the website is full of British humour. So it’s always interesting when we get comments from abroad. We know for instance, that the Dutch find us quite amusing, while the French…erm…well let’s put it this way, we are never going to have a French Guest Writer. So far, all of our guest writers have been British. Or at least half-British*. Today though, that is changing. Because, in the first of what we hope will be many international escapades, we are all off to Iowa. Or, more accurately, Iowa is coming to our sofa. And with Iowa comes Sandra McAubre, a lady who writes on the topic of Sports Management Degrees over at SportsManagementDegrees.Net. She also very much welcomes your comments, so when you’ve finished reading her post please do send her an email and ask her what a ‘brickbat’ is. Then let us know. Thanks.**

There are some men who would read this title and think I was nuts, and they’re justified for thinking so. They’re the ones who always seem to be at the receiving end of the wrath of the fairer sex for their obsession with sports. Every time there’s a big game on, they’re faced with a combination of excitement and apprehension – the latter because they’re worried about the brickbats that their significant other, be it spouse or girlfriend, is going to be throwing around. Yes, there are women who enjoy a game as much as the testosterone-fueled men seem to do and others who are understanding and even accommodating during games, but then, every other man I’ve met is of the opinion that they’ve missed out on meeting specimens of these rare breeds. Even so, I still persist with the opinion that you must take satisfaction in the fact that your woman hates that you love sports. Because:

1. You Can Hate That She’s Too Sappy. If your girlfriend/wife is understanding about you watching sports when there’s a game on, then you can bet your last dollar that you’re going to have to reciprocate the favor in kind – just when you’re in the mood for some love, she’s going to be bawling her eyes out watching a sappy love story and you’re going to have to keep your mouth and much more zipped up!

2. You Don’t Have To Reciprocate In Kind. Worse, if she watches the games with you, you’re going to have to summon up some tears during that oh-so-boring movie (with nary a bang-up fight) too; but then, I think the idea of keeping more than your mouth zipped up should bring on the waterworks naturally enough!

3. You Have Genuine Reason To Hang Out With The Guys. If sport is banned at home, then you (can hope) you don’t get into too much trouble when you stop over at a bar to catch the last quarter of the big game before heading on home!

4. Christmas And Birthdays Become More Fun. No more boring ties for you in return for all the sparklers you love to (you’re forced to?) buy for your girl; rather, you’re awash in season tickets with premier seating (after you give her an infinite number of not-so-subtle hints of course) for the best games in town.

5. You Don’t Have To Tolerate Her Friends. If your game buddies are banned from your home, then it’s only fair that she can’t expect you to lock yourself into your room when her girlfriends are over for whatever it is that women do when they get together; and on the bright side, you could sneak away to watch a game on your friend’s big screen TV when the female brigade comes calling!

6. Your Beer Belly Is Under Control. With a supportive wife/girlfriend, you’re going to guzzle bottles and bottles of beer and continue eating countless chips when watching your game, little realizing that they’re all heading straight for your gut and on the road to making you fat and unhealthy. So maybe the disapproval can help you stave off the food and drink you seem to push down when it’s game time and save your health in the process.

7. You Get Some Quality Time Alone. And finally, no matter how much you love your significant other, there are times when you prefer to watch your game in solitude (if you can’t enjoy the company of your beer buddies, of course) without being interrupted by questions and remarks that you have absolutely no interest in at the moment. So if she hates that you’re into sports, maybe, just maybe, she’s going to be sulking till the game’s over, after which you can do some crawling to get back into her good books!

*Or completely Australian, which is not in Britain at all.

**Apparently I’m the only one who had never heard of the word brickbat. I feel a bit silly now.

July 17, 2010
7 Reasons I Should Be Celebrated The World Over

Today I turn 27. I is Jon. Happy Birthday to me. Thanks. This very special day gives me a wonderful opportunity to indulge in a little piece of narcissism. Well, I say narcissism. It’s more a chance to try and make the world a better place.

Image Courtesy of Ceci Masters

1. Holiday. June 10th would automatically be made a public holiday. And just before you start thinking this could never happen, well it already has. In Portugal.

2. Statues. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not so vain that I think there should be statues of me in every town, village and hamlet. But one in every 50sq miles sounds about right. The simple fact of the matter is that there are 6.2 billion people on this planet and I can’t get round to everyone. A statue does exactly what I do. Apart from get injured when someone takes exception to seeing me everyday and knocks my head off.

3. Italians. As this short film demonstrates, they need to sort their attitude out. I am hoping that if the rest of the world celebrate me then the Italians might join in. Voluntarily or otherwise.

4. Common Denominator. There is a lot of bad blood between a lot of people in this world. What the world needs now is love sweet love, but if we can’t get that we need something else. Something that ignores borders. Something that ignores beliefs. Something that ignores opinions. Something that ignores The French. Something that everyone can agree is beauty. Maybe then, with common ground, we can build a better world for our children. That something, is me.

5. I Do The Things That You Don’t Have To. For the most part of my life, I have been getting on and doing the jobs that otherwise you’d have to do. Trying to become an international athlete for instance. Or deciding that I could take on – and beat – Australians at every single sported ever invented. Or spending three years of my life searching for my friend’s look-alike – and then writing a book about it. Or planning to catch one hundred London buses in one night. If it wasn’t for me, you’d have had to do all that. You’d be the one who was a bit…erm…strange.

6. You Again. Have you sent me a Birthday card for today? The chances are you probably haven’t. But that’s not necessarily your fault. It may simply be a case that you don’t know me. If you don’t know me you can’t be expected to know when to start looking at Birthday cards. If I was celebrated all over the world though, you would know. Clinton Cards would put adverts up and stuff.*

7. 7 Reasons. If I was celebrated the whole world over, I wouldn’t have to spend ages, in the early hours my birthday, trying to think of a poxy seventh reason as to why you should celebrate me.

*If you do know me and you haven’t sent me a card, I would like to know why. Thanks.

June 10, 2010
7 Reasons The Osmonds Were Right

Today I am offering a public service. To man. By addressing you. The woman. I know man is seen as the least romantic of the sexes, but man still likes to be loved. And, as The Osmonds so wisely stated, he likes to be loved because you actually love him. Not because he’s good with a screwdriver. Something like that anyway. Basically, what I am trying to get at is this. I’ve taken this classic Osmonds tune and edited it. So that you, the woman, will not make mistakes when you tell a man of your reasons for loving him. You’ll thank me one day.

7 Reasons The Osmonds Were Right

Don’t Love Me For Fun Girl, Let Me Be The One Girl, Love Me For A Reason, Let The Reason Be…

1. My DIY Skills. I assure you ladies, telling your man that you love him because he is great with a hammer is not the way to go. Would you like it if man told you that he loved you because you are good at ironing? No. Exactly.

2. My Memory. Don’t tell your man that you love him because he has a great memory. He’ll probably forget. Then you’ll get annoyed that he keeps forgetting. And he won’t know why you’re getting annoyed. And then you’ll split up. So don’t do it. Not if you really love him.

3. My Ability To Be Tall And Reach The Top Shelf In Sainsburys. Man doesn’t mind being tall and actually he is happy that he has some use in the supermarket bar getting in the way and trying to manoeuvre the trolley too fast. But telling him you love him because he’s tall is like him telling you he loves you because you are short enough to get in the attic without bashing your head.

4. My Hair. Facial Hair. Always a delicate one this. And actually you are probably doing yourself a favour by not using it. Man is programmed to reciprocate without thinking. “I love you” is reciprocated with “I love you too”. “I love your moustache” becomes “I love your moustache too”. Not good.

5. My Collection Of Sporting Memorabilia 1994 – Present Day. Man likes his collection of programmes and fixture lists and photos from years ago. It brings back good memories. And he also likes it because you don’t. Man doesn’t share your passion for American Idol or knitting, so don’t share his passion for signed pairs of Gary Lineker worn shorts.

6. My Dislike Of The Lesser Boyzone Version Of This Song. Man likes to think he knows about such topics as music. A woman’s job is to say, ‘Ooh I like this new one from Boyzone’. This gives the man a chance to show off and scoff and say, ‘This isn’t new. This is a cover of a far superior song’. What he does not expect is for woman to switch off the radio and say, ‘Why did Boyzone make such a rubbish cover?’

7. My Marc Fearns Mask. Seriously, man is just going to get very annoyed if you love it when he wears the mask. Unless you are Marc Fearns yourself of course. In which case you’ll probably think it’s a right result.

May 31, 2010
7 Reasons To Love The Letter B

1. B is for Brilliance. Don’t take this website as evidence. Take a look here and here. It is all around us. Brilliance is good. Without it we’d be distinctly average. And no one wants that.

2. B is for Britain. Yes, I am biased (and not just because I feel the need to be given the subject of this post), but Britain is the best country in the world. It has history. Spectacular geography. Culture. Art. Morris dancing. Cheese rolling. Test Match Special. Marks & Spencer. Gardens. The Archers. Castles. Cornish Pasties. Colin Firth. Allotments. And me.

3. B is for Brown. No, not Gordon. Sauce. Brown Sauce is great. Brown Sauce doesn’t need Piers Morgan to make it look good.

4. B is for Beauty. Life is beautiful. People like looking at beautiful things. People are beautiful. People like looking at beautiful people. I like looking at pictures of Sandra Bullock.

5. B is for Baths. At the 7 Reasons HQ, the bath is rarely sans person. (Though unlike the 7 Reasons sofa it is never occupied by more than one person at a time). A bath is relaxing. A bath is stimulating. A bath is a place of discovery. Just ask Archimedes. If he hadn’t jumped into the bath on that glorious day in 240BC, we wouldn’t have submarines.

6. B is for the Beach Boys. Just to show that while I am biased towards my country I am not xenophobic, I am going to ignore The Beatles – a pretty good band – and head stateside to find the best. Not only were The Beach Boys brilliant exponents when it came to creating the 2:30 pop song, they also created the masterpiece that is Pet Sounds. One of – if not the – greatest albums ever made.

7. B is for Buses. Without buses we wouldn’t have seen Holiday on the Buses. Or Summer Holiday. We would also have forgotten about Darren Day five years before we eventually did.

*See here for 7 Reasons To Love The Letter A.

February 18, 2010
7 Reasons ‘Last Christmas’ Is The Greatest Music Video Ever.

1. The Set-up. The start of the video could very well be the start of a James Bond film that stars Jennifer Aniston. Two jeeps pull up in the snow. A door opens. A man gets out. He turns around. And that’s where is ends. You could never have a Bond villain with a hairstyle like that. Well, not unless Bond himself was played by Mika.

2. The Waving. Let’s be honest about this, it’s horrendous. It is not proper waving. It is five people auditioning for a job as a window cleaner, 0:24 – 0:30. Personally I would give the job to the woman in the middle. She was getting right into the corners.

3. The Tinsel Drop. Nice moves George. Or not. The idea is that he drops the tinsel onto last year’s lover, so that he can crouch down, apologise and stare into her eyes. Watch it though. At 1:27 there is a cut in the video. Only for a split second, but it can be seen. This is because George Michael is useless when it comes to dropping tinsel. They did 132 takes and everytime George missed his lover. In the end they decided just to chuck a bit of tinsel over her and merge the two segments. It didn’t work. But it’s lovely that George has his faults.

4. The Ice Cool Dude. Look at this guy at 1:40. It’s freezing outside yet he has been in the woods chopping up a tree without gloves or a hat. It took me a while to work out why this might be the case but it came to me eventually. He wasn’t wearing a hat because if he was he wouldn’t have been able to hear the director shout instructions at him. He wasn’t wearing gloves because he’s an idiot.

5. The Chat Up Lines. You just have to look at the two girl’s faces at 2:19 to know that they have just been asked by the smarmy git on the left if they fancy a threesome. Unfortunately they cut away from them to show George preparing to inhale wine through his nose, so no one quite knows whether the threesome happened or not. Nothing wrong with imagining though.

6. The Irony. There is quite a lot of it in Last Christmas, but the main one is George Michael supposedly giving his heart away 365 days previously. To a girl. You seriously expect us to believe that George? With that running style between 3:00 and 3:05? But that’s what’s so great about it. For four minutes and sixteen seconds we convince ourselves to believe it. Then we pretend we can’t stand this song.

7. The Skis. Oh, they had skis with them – 3:50. I am sure I am not the only person to notice that they didn’t actually do any skiing. All we saw them do is drink wine, run around in the snow, look at each other seductively and eat a birthday cake (2:11 – don’t ask me why, it was probably someone’s birthday. Jesus’ probably). But that’s fine, it means Wham! were in touch with reality. Sure, people mean to attack the slalom when on a winter holiday, but as soon as they start on the Quality Street they decide it’s just not going to happen. Real people. Real attitudes to getting fat.

December 18, 2009
7 Reasons To Love The Letter A

1. A is for Amore. You can say what you like about the Italians – and I usually do – but when it comes to love they have a good word for it. In fact it’s a beautiful word. One that actually makes it look as if you are kissing when you say it. Saying the word ‘love’ makes you look like a goldfish.

2. A is for Apple. When I was much, much younger I always used to fret over how I would remember the alphabet. Thankfully some bright spark came up with the idea of teaching me words to go with the letters. Which was brilliant. Soon enough I knew 26 new words. All starting with a different letter. Unfortunately, I still didn’t have a bloody clue which order they went in.

3. A is for Abracadabra. The biggest trick Paul Daniels ever pulled was convincing me and a bunch of my friends to whip our wands out one break time and wave them around the playground in an attempt to magically make the school disappear. It didn’t and the girls ran away. That was during the morning break. By the afternoon break my wand had been snapped in half by a girl called Lousie who accused me of making her scrunchie disappear. She was a right nutter. I imagine she’s quite butch these days. She’s never getting her scrunchie back.

4. A is for Scandinavian music. Sweden gave us Abba and Ace of Base. Norway gave us A-ha. Denmark gave us Aqua and Alphabeat. Finland gave us a rest.

5. A is for Airplanes. Without them we wouldn’t have a carbon footprint. This would be a great loss to my lounge. It’s very much a centerpiece.

6. A is for Audrey. Only two people in the history of the world have ever been called Audrey. And one of them wasn’t even real. The real Audrey was of course Audrey Hepburn. Has there ever been a more beautiful, intelligent and funny Belgian-Dutch-British-Irish-American-Swiss woman? No is the answer you are looking for. The fake Audrey was of course Penelope Keith. Or Audrey fforbes-Hamilton as she was more commonly known for a few half-hours between 1979 and 1981. She had no American in her what-so-ever. Though in the form of Richard De Vere she supposedly had a little Polish-Czech in her once in a while. Once they were married obviously.

7. A is for Ox. Don’t ask me. That’s the Egyptians for you. Apparently the letter A can be traced back to a pictogram of an ox head in Egyptian hieroglyphs or the Proto-Sinaitic alphabet. No, I don’t have a bloody clue what that is either. What I do know is that whoever traced it back probably got it wrong. Surely O is for ox?

December 8, 2009
7 Reasons People Love Lists

1. Order. Your life is busy. You just have so many things to do. So many things that, sometimes, you forget to pack your knickers or eat more than spaghetti hoops all day. A list is a cure. It brings order to the chaos of your mind. You won’t embarrass yourself again.

2. Stationery. A list gives you a chance to use those highlighters your grandparents bought you five years ago. And the A4 pad. Andthe gold star stickers. And the 23 pencils. And the car shaped pencil sharpener that has moving wheels. And the book, How To Write The Perfect List.

3. Format. ‘The Nation’s 50 Favourite Types of Sock’ will easily take up an hour of Channel 4’s schedule or a six page spread inHaberdashery Monthly. Why waste time doing something that will involve thinking? Lists are a part of ‘Broken Britain’ and we should be proud about that.

4. Focus. You can prioritise what needs doing. 1 – Watch the rugby.2 – Watch the wife do the ironing. 3 – Mend the iron.

5. Targets. History shows that if you write your targets down when you are a young whippersnapper, they will more often than not be accomplished. Think about it. Benjamin Franklin had targets. Jonny Wilkinson had targets. Jack The Ripper had targets. Exactly.

6. Throwing. Is there a better feeling than screwing up a now completed list and chucking it across the room towards the bin? Absolutely not. Especially when your boss walks into the trajectory of its flight and it lands in his coffee, splashing hot liquid all over his shirt and causing first degree burns on his stupid Mickey Mouse tie.

7. Prevention. Drawing up a list stops us getting on with what we should be doing. And as that’s picking up next door’s children from the swimming pool, it’s good thing. They’re ugly and should not be seen anywhere near a 1998 Volvo Estate.

November 12, 2009
7 Reasons To Love Monday

1. It’s a fresh start. It is to the week what New Years Day is to the year. Full of hope, expectation and Great Aunties singing Auld Lang Syne.

2. Sunday was so quiet without the letterbox flicking open. Now it’s Monday and the post is arriving again. Who knows what will arrive. Unless you are in the UK. In which case everyone knows what will arrive. Sod all.

3. It’s not a day for work. Monday is spent talking about the weekend. Did Donna and Darren get it on? Did Donna and Jimmy get it on? Did Donna and Matthew get it on? Was Donna particularly horny this weekend?

4. You have the rest of the week to make it happen, so you can relax and take it easy. You can check twitter every ten minutes. You can make paper aeroplanes. You chuck paper clips at each other. You can go and find Donna.

5. The Monday sports pages are the best of the week. Full of reports and analysis. And that column from that bloke who used to play, but apparently doesn’t know anything about the game. He really is a twat isn’t he?

6. The Boomtown Rats hated Monday. Bob Geldof is almost as annoying as Bono. Every reason to disagree with him then.

7. There are a whole five nights ahead before X Factor is on again and half the nation loses the plot for a few hours. The other, more sophisticated half, go to the pub and make really long straws.

You agree right?

November 2, 2009