Tag: Man

7 Reasons To Celebrate The 50th Anniversary Of Yuri Gagarin’s Flight Into Space

On 12th April 1961, Yuri Gagarin became the first man in space. To celebrate his achievement there are a variety of events happening all over the world, but here at 7 Reasons we thought we’d give him our own homage.

1. You’re Hired! Way before Mark Burnett invented The Apprentice, Sergei Korolev invented the The Spaceman. It wasn’t actually called that, but it should have been. The premise of The Spaceman was simple, find the world’s first spaceman. After weeks of tasks – that may or may not have included filming an advert for a brand of CCCP cereal – the final came down to a battle between Yuri Gagarin and Gherman Titov. Right up until the last minute it looked liked Titov was going to get the nod. Then Korolev found out Titov was the son of a teacher and Gagarin was the son of a peasant. The decision was made. One wonders why he didn’t read the applications properly at the beginning. He could have saved a lot of bother.

2. Infinity And Beyond! Due to the length of time The Spaceman would have to spend alone in his shuttle, part of the training process included long stays in an isolation chamber. When each cosmonaut left the chamber they were asked what they did. Titov recited poetry, Popovich sang Ukraniane folk songs, the rest thought about their past. It was only Gagarin who thought of the future. Korolev liked this. He wanted a man who thought he would come back. (Do bear in mind that this was a good few years before the introduction of iPhones and Angry Birds).

3. Clothing. Look what he’s wearing! Just look! Yuri Gagarin went around the earth in a thin orange jump suit! I wear more protective clothing when I use the hob.

4. Humour. Throughout his flight, Gagarin referred to Korolev as ‘Dawn’. What a brilliant way of getting back at the guy who has made you risk your life. In every single transcript of the flight it’s full of Gagarin talking to this mystery character called Dawn. In fairness to Korolev he played along. To be honest, I think they were flirting by the end.

5. Polite. Can you imagine John Terry walking into a press conference and giving the journalists a standing ovation? I doubt it. But that’s exactly what Gagarin did when he attended a British press conference in July 1961. He also brought them flowers. What a nice chap.

6. The Spacewoman. Seeing his new found popularity as an opportunity, Gagarin began his own search to find a woman to send into space. As you can see, there were plenty of candidates. Personally I’d have gone for the woman in the top right hand corner. She looks like she could do with some G-forces.*

7. Serious. At 7 Reasons we don’t like doing serious very often. Serious isn’t funny. Just for today though, I am. I urge you to watch some of the videos here, spend 100 minutes watching this and following as-live coverage of the flight on twitter. It’s all fascinating. Really, really fascinating.**

*This reason may or may not be true.

**I’ve spent so long writing this that Gagarin’s already parachuting into a Russian field. Sorry about that. Worth playing catch up though.

April 12, 2011
7 Reasons That Goats Should Stare at Men
I’m sure we’re all familiar with the film, The Men Who Stare at Goats, which is based on the work of a secret psychic military unit. But in that film they’re doing it wrong. Men shouldn’t stare at goats. Goats should stare at men. It’s obvious. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Men Are More Interesting Than Goats. This it not universal, as anyone who’s ever seen the queue in a Homebase on a wet Thursday afternoon or viewed the bits between the sport on Sky Sports will testify, but generally, it is true. After all, men build things; men wage war; men get drunk; and fall over; men morris dance. Goats on the other hand, do not. Goats stand; goats chew; goats stand some more; goats sit down. That’s pretty much it as far as goats go. If you want to know how relatively interesting goats and men are, just look at the internet. The ratio of men to goats depicted online is 999999999999999999:1*. The evidence is overwhelming.

2. It’s Less Dangerous For Them Than Staring At Women. Anecdotal evidence suggests that, in the UK, you are more likely to be physically assaulted in a pub car park by an addled simpleton enquiring, “Are you staring at my bird?” than in any other circumstance.** And this is a scenario that goats are just fundamentally ill-equipped to deal with. Rather than diffusing the situation by calmly and rationally replying, “Yes, but in a curious, rather than a lecherous way. Is her skin naturally that orange? Did she apply her mascara with a spoon? Shouldn’t someone be holding her hair back while she’s vomiting?” a goat would just stand there, being a goat. If they stared at women, our pub car-parks and city centres would be full of hyper-aggressive drunkards punching goats every weekend to the soundtrack of “leave him Gary, he’s not worth it”. No one wants that, except Gary. And he’s an idiot.

3. Conscience. In the modern secular age, where our notion of an all-knowing God and right and wrong are becoming ever more confused and blurred, we all need a little help and guidance every now and again. And what better way to make men consider their actions than by having a goat stare at them. After all, there are many, many things that you might conceivably do when alone that you would not do when a goat was looking at you. These include:
- Picking things.
- Scratching things.
- Rubbing things.
- Pulling things.
- Poking things.
- Looking at things.
- Other stuff with things.
Could you look at pornography if a goat was staring at you? No. Could you pick the pocket of a nun if a goat were staring at you? No. Could you have sex with a goat if a goat were staring at you? No.*** If goats stared at us, we’d live better lives.

4. Time-Saving. If you’re a man you’re probably thinking, I won’t have time to look after a goat. I have important things to do, I have trains to look at and pants to file and whatnot. But you’d be wrong. Your staring-goat would actually save you time as you’d never, ever need to mow the lawn again. Nor, if you already do this, would you need to go and chew the local playing field for half an hour every day, your goat could do that for you too. Being stared at by a goat is like being given the gift of time.

5. Education. Goats will get something from the whole staring at men deal too. They’ll learn from us. After all, goats haven’t evolved or significantly changed their lifestyle since they first appeared on the planet (unless they evolved from geese, in which case, well done goats, do carry on). By staring at men, they might learn to do something other than standing in a field and staring at men. They might evolve to use tools, to walk upright, to tell time or even learn to read books, instead of eating them. Goats will benefit.

6. Responsibility. This is not universally the case, but many men lack a sense of responsibility and really only get one when fatherhood is thrust upon them. But being the keeper of a staring goat would engender that sense of responsibility. After all, there’s nothing like having to feed something, teach it right and wrong (not to butt the television except when East Enders is on, not to gore the cat with its horns etc) to make you realise that you have other things to think about than whether your shoes are a slightly different colour to each other, or whether the light on the floor varies significantly over the 15cm gap between them causing them to appear different…Nope, it’s the light. Right, where was I? Oh yes, and the ladies will love you when they see you tenderly strapping your goat into the back of the car before setting off on journeys. They’ll see you as potential breeding material, so you’ll be more sexually successful. Though you will have to perform with a goat staring at you, good luck with that.

7. Trains. Men – despite the Clint Eastwood/John Wayne/Buster Keaton strong, silent stereotypes – are gregarious social creatures for whom being alone can lead to loneliness, and that lack of socialization can in turn lead to eccentricity, outright weirdness and a penchant for trains. The company of a staring goat would prevent men becoming lonely and developing strange habits, which would eventually lead to the demise of trainspotting as a pastime. It would probably also lead to the end of model aeroplane building and World of Warcraft, so bring on the goats, I say. Oh, and please send my next-door neighbour his first, as the sounds of his model trains are audible in my loft at night. And they interfere with me cataloguing my button collection.****

*This figure is made up. I don’t have time to count the internet just to illustrate that men are represented there in a far larger number than goats.

**It’s interesting to note that no one, ever, in the history of drink-fuelled, envy-inspired, pub car-park assaults has commenced proceedings by uttering the phrase, “Are you staring at my fiancé?”

***It would be the wrong way round, for a start.

****This is untrue. I wrote it for comedic effect, please, please, please do not send us any correspondence about buttons. No buttons. No!
January 26, 2011
7 Reasons Picking Up The “For My Horny Boyfriend” Christmas Card Was A Mistake

There are moments in our lives when we question our actions. For me, such a moment took place a few days ago. I was in a branch of a well-known national card selling establishment perusing the shelves for a suitable Christmas card to buy for my girlfriend. Being ‘in the zone’ I was unaware of my surroundings. And – in particular – the location of the boyfriend section. Being of the heterosexual kind, I prefer my woman to be a woman. And, in something of a triumph, my girlfriend is both. As a result I was not on the look out for a card addressed to a boyfriend. So when I inadvertently picked one up the other day, it was a mistake. A terrible mistake.

This is not the actual card. I was hardly going to take a photo of the actual card was I?

1. Realisation. At first I felt a bit silly, but that feeling subsided very quickly once I realised exactly where I was. In a well known national card selling establishment. I froze. Were people around me? Was I being watched? Had this been captured on CCTV? What if it had? What if people had seen me browsing the girlfriend cards only to then move onto the horny boyfriend section? They’d think I was a slut!

2. Hesitation. Having stood, motionless, for what seemed like an eternity but in reality was probably only a few seconds, I had a another problem. Anyone who had done the same would have realised their mistake and immediately put the card back. But I had paused. A pause that could easily be mistaken for contemplation. A fatal pause. Those people who thought I was a slut, now thought I was a serial adulterer!

3. Frustration. So now what do I do? Do I put the card back quietly and pretend* it was not what I was looking for or do I make a bit of a song and dance about it? Do I say, rather loudly, “Oops! I didn’t want that!”? You know, just so every knows exactly where I stand on the whole horny boyfriend thing. It certainly has it’s merits, but what if I overact it? What if I sound really, really camp? What if I am not believable. Those who thought I was a slut and then changed their minds to a serial adulterer will now think I’m in denial!

4. Contemplation. It must have been a minute now and I am still holding the card. What am I doing? And, hang on a second, why am I reading it? Why am I reading the words, ‘A naughty Christmas poem for my horny boyfriend‘? Why? Why am I doing this? And why am I not stopping? This is a poem for my boyfriend, who is always so horny and whose body… Argh! I must stop! Those who thought I was a slut come serial adulterer come man in denial now must think I am a pervert.

5. Determination. I know now that there are other people around me. I have men to the left of me looking at cards for their girlfriends and I have women to the right of me looking at cards for their boyfriends. I hold my ground on the join. I can’t buckle. I can’t throw my bags on the floor and begin sobbing. Mainly because I don’t have any bags, but also because it’s so bloody cold outside that all the moisture in my eyes has frozen. I’m going to get through this though. I pull the card closer to my chest so no one can see what I have picked up. I am just going to stand here until everyone has gone. Though those that originally thought I was a slut, a serial adulterer, a denialist and a pervert, now just think I am an idiot standing in their way.

6. Innovation. These people aren’t leaving! They just keep looking at other cards. It’s midday now. It’ll be dark soon. I’m going to have to be clever. I am going to have to put the card back without anyone noticing. So I pick up another card – one that is addressed ‘to my girlfriend’ before you ask – and I pretend to be interested in it. It’s bloody hideous so that doesn’t take long. Then, rather cleverly, I put it back with the horny boyfriend card underneath. And no one notices. Until the guy next to me picks the girlfriend card up which of course leaves the horny boyfriend card on display. He looks at me and I look at him. He doesn’t think I’m a slut, an adulterer, a denialist, a pervert or an idiot. He thinks my girlfriend is a boy!

7. Affirmation. This is the point at which I realise I am in an awkward situation so I may as well make the best of it. Half the battle of a 7 Reasons writer, is to find the inspiration. Well here I was. With inspiration staring directly at me. No, not the man. He has moved on. I am staring at the card again. I am living a 7 Reasons post. All I had to do was remember exactly how I felt when I picked the card up in the first place. So I pick it up again and repeat the whole process. Now I don’t care who thinks I’m a slut, an adulterer, a denialist, a pervert, an idiot or a ladyboy fetishist, because I know I am a genius. A rosey-red cheeked genius.

*This is what a Horny Boyfriend card can do to you. You start pretending you don’t want the card that you didn’t want in the first place.

December 16, 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 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 That Monkeys Are More Advanced Than Humans

The Ascent Of Monkey

1. Discernment. Now I know that I’m generalising here about monkeys. I know that there are many different types of monkey and that they’re all very different to each other. But if you put a barbary ape and a baboon in front of me, I wouldn’t be able to tell you which one was which. And I’d be very scared. The baboon would know that it isn’t a barbary ape though, and the barbary ape would know that it isn’t a baboon. Thus, they are both more advanced than I am. And less frightened too.

2. Feet. Monkeys – some of them – have amazing feet, which they use every bit as adroitly and dextrously as they use their hands. Humans, however, do not. Human feet are almost unmalleable blocks of flesh and bone that are useful only for standing on and for kicking things. We can just about pick up a pen with our toes, but that’s it. Monkeys can hang upside-down from trees using theirs. I can’t. I fell on my head when I tried.

Show off!

3. Adaptation. The most advanced of animals evolve over time to adapt to their environs. Monkeys have developed all-over body hair that protects their delicate skin from the effects of the sun and also keeps out the cold. Humans, however, are less advanced and have to rely on finding or manufacturing artificial coverings to protect themselves with. There is evidence of some evolution – humans do have a small amount of body hair – but the stupid creatures usually remove it, mostly with primitive and dangerous tools that often cause them injury. Pillocks.

4. Social Position. The higher echelons of our society – Viscounts, Lords etc – live on vast country estates which we, the hoi polloi, finance by turning up in our cars and in coach parties to drive around their grounds and observe them in their natural habitat. Monkeys, similarly to the landowning gentry, also live on vast country estates that we finance by turning up in our cars and coaches to observe them up-close. Thus, monkeys have attained a higher social standing than most of the UK’s population. They’re also above the law, seemingly able to vandalise our cars with impunity.

5. Environmental Impact. Humans are still trying to decide whether global warming is man-made or naturally-occurring. The one thing that nobody’s proposing though, is that it is the fault of monkeys, who seem to live in an environmentally sustainable manner. Monkeys are also not responsible for other environmental catastrophes, such as the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, the Italian dioxin crisis, or the construction of Scarborough.

6. Geography. Like humans, monkeys work too. Their labour is primarily concerned with food and shelter. You don’t see troops of commuting monkeys though; they are clever enough to realise that life is a lot easier if you live where you work. People, on the other hand, often travel hundreds of miles to get to their place of work. They all do it at the same time and then spend their free-time complaining about it, often to me. They’re idiots.

7. Other Matters. Monkeys are not responsible for the McFlurry, mobile phones that play music through speakers, Jedward, Hitler, golf, tinsel, dancing, the A bomb, jigsaw puzzles, soap operas, the defection of Adrian Chiles to ITV or the Trojan virus that affected our website last Friday (sorry if you were inconvenienced by that); people are. Monkeys are clearly more advanced than us.

May 17, 2010
7 Reasons You Don’t Feel Like a Real Man

Society has a very rigid idea of what constitutes masculinity. Often, our definitions of what is masculine are rooted in the conventions and gender roles of the past, something which makes them unachievable ideals rather than anything tangible, or real, to aspire too. Despite knowing this though, sometimes you feel that you don’t quite measure up. Here are seven reasons that you don’t feel like a real man.

1. You use moisturiser. Using moisturiser doesn’t feel manly. It’s very good at keeping your skin soft and preventing the premature aging of the skin, but it’s not manly. I once moisturised my face, exited the bathroom (which my wife then entered) and tried to open the bedroom door. I couldn’t, as my hands were slick from the moisturiser and I couldn’t grip the doorknob. I was trapped outside the bedroom for five minutes. “This never happened to the captain of the Titanic”, I remember thinking, as I waited for my wife to rescue me. Real men don’t use moisturiser.

2. Facial hair. Real men – Victorian men – sported impressive and elaborate facial hair. Who, apart from Daniel Day-Lewis and Sebastien Chabal, can even grow such magnificent face furniture today? Certainly no one at this website – the best we can manage are a sparse ginger moustache and a slightly less sparse – but still bloody ginger – beard. Modern men also trim their facial hair too much. Real men have natural and wild facial hair – not prissy, neat goatees (and you should never, ever trust a man with a neat beard. Noel Edmonds has a neat beard). Real men do not have neat beards. Real men have substantial, flowing beards that are the same colour as their head-hair. Real men probably don’t even have scissors. In fact, real men probably eat scissors.

3. Coffee. Coffee is an amazing beverage and real men drink it. What real men don’t do, however, is go into Starbucks and order a venti soy-hazelnut-vanilla-cinnamon-white-mocha-choca-latte with caramel and an extra shot of espresso. Real men drink their coffee black, from tin mugs around a fire – or some sort of black-lead-coal-stove-thing with flames and a chimney – and the stronger and viler tasting the coffee is, the better. Also, real men don’t drink their coffee from cups – even if that is the only receptacle that fits into their espresso maker properly – and they don’t have a muffin with it. Not blueberry; not zucchini-walnut. Real men have no muffin.

4. Pain. Real men shrug off pain. Pain isn’t good – it’s er…well…painful – and it can be undignified. It especially hurts when you’re plucking the middle of your eyebrow to pluralise it. That sort of pain is reasonably manageable though. Real pain, however, can only dealt with by real men. I injured my knee last year (in a very manly way – up a mountain). The next day, when I woke up, it really hurt. As I climbed out of bed and put weight on it I suddenly – and quite unexpectedly – shrieked “I yi yi yi yi”, in the manner of Carmen Miranda. Real men don’t react that way to pain; Sir Ranulph Twisleton-Wykeham-Fiennes chopped his own fingers off with a fretsaw in his shed to save himself a six-thousand pound surgeons bill. I bet he didn’t shriek “I yi yi yi yi” like Carmen Miranda – or like anyone else. Never mind exhorting men complaining of pain to “man-up”, they should be told to Fiennes-up (I’m really hoping that will catch on).

5. Décor. You actually care about what the inside of your own home looks like and have an opinion about it too. You have even bought Laura Ashley toile-patterned sheets in both red and blue, because they look nice. Do real men care about soft-furnishings? Did Douglas Bader rearrange the cushions on his sofa and extinguish the scented candles before going off to beat the Germans without his legs? No he bloody didn’t. Real men don’t spend their time cocking about with flock-wallpaper and vases. Nor do they have a set of Le Creuset pans. Real men don’t even need legs.

6. Pets. Real men have real pets – parrots, cats or reasonably-sized dogs. What they don’t have are little dogs that you can put in a bag or rodents, budgies, rabbits, guinea pigs, chinchillas, snakes or fish. They certainly don’t have fish. You can tell a real man by the way he interacts with his pet. No real man names his pet Fluffykins or Pookles. Real men give their pets sensible names. Real men also address their pets properly, rather than clicking at them or making baby-noises. They address them as if they were a visiting chum:

“So Mr Prendegast, the sun has just passed the yard-arm, what would you say to a spot of brandy? What’s that Mr Prendegast? You’re a cat and you don’t drink brandy? Oh I see. Would you settle for some biscuits and a rub under the chin? I’m glad. There’s a good chap.”

That’s how a real man talks to a pet – like an equal. Real men don’t address pets as if they were idiots, or children. They don’t dress them up in clothes or put them in bags. The only time a real man carries a pet is when he wants to put it outside so that it can chase something. He certainly doesn’t give his pet chocolate-drops or a hug. Or give anyone a hug, for that matter.

7. You are a woman. Women don’t feel like real men. They don’t even feel like pretend men. They feel warm and soft. They sound like this:

March 17, 2010
7 Reasons You Should Be Able To Quote Eleanor Roosevelt

1. “There are practical little things in housekeeping which no man really understands.” For use when your wife returns home from a bit of shopping, to see that you have tried to do the dusting as she asked, but you have just dusted around all the objects on the mantel piece. She doesn’t think this is a good enough effort.

2. “If life were predictable it would cease to be life, and be without flavour.” For use when your friends ask you why you don’t just settle down and get a normal job instead of being the perennial dreamer. A man who longs to catch one hundred buses in one night would fall into this category.

3. “I once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: no good in a bed, but fine up against a wall.” For use when you think that to make a sex joke funny you must include crude and vulgar language or demonstrations.

4. “Autobiographies are only useful as the lives you read about and analyse may suggest to you something that you may find useful in your own journey through life.” For use when you are in Waterstones trying to work out what to buy your wife for her birthday. This should be enough to drag you away from anything that has Jordan’s face on it to something like Lance Armstrong’s It’s Not About The Bike: My Journey Back To Life.

5. “Friendship with ones self is all important, because without it one cannot be friends with anyone else in the world.” For use whenever someone suggests you may be getting a little narcissistic. Or when you are fourteen and your Mum has just found a photo of Posh Spice under the mat in the bathroom.

6. “A woman is like a tea bag – you can’t tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water.” For use when you are the producer of The World’s Strongest Woman.

7. “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along’.” For use whenever you switch on the TV to find one of the following filling your screen: X-Factor/Britain’s Got Talent/The Persuasionists/America’s Next Top Model/Britain’s Next Top Model/Piers Morgan/Kerry Katona/Katie Price/Harriet Harman.

February 3, 2010