Tag: Marc Fearns

Guest Post: 7 Reasons For Schools To Get Involved In Our Anti-Bullying Project

A few weeks ago you may remember that I auctioned off a 7 Reasons package for Comic Relief. Part of the package included the opportunity to write a guest post for us. That is why today Dr Andy Hickson sits on the 7 Reasons sofa.

7 Reasons is of course a humour site and as such doesn’t feature serious posts very often. Today though, we look at a very serious topic. Andy is the Director of Actionwork, a Theatre and Film in Education company that seeks to promote empowerment and reduce bullying and violence in schools. I am sure this is something we can all relate to. If we weren’t bullied then we almost know someone who was. I was bullied for many years. To this day I am not entirely sure why, but what I do know is that the only deterrents available were telling the teachers – something that didn’t work – and punching the twat – something that did. Hardly suitable options for such a prevalent issue. As a result I think we should encourage organisations, such as Actionwork, who try and prevent bullying by other means.

Andy’s 7 Reasons takes a slightly different form to regular posts in that his seven reasons are featured in a letter. One of the projects that Andy is currently working on is the Anti-Bullying Village. To find out more about the project and read his seven reasons please take a look at the Actionwork Anti-Bullying Village Schools Letter. And do check out the Actionwork website.

Finally, we’d just like to say thank you to Andy for bidding on our auction (and anyone else who challenged him). It seems fitting that an irreverent idea results in the promotion of something so worthwhile. Not to mention a bit of money for Comic Relief.

April 2, 2011
7 Reasons Twitter Must Remain Subscription Free

No doubt many of you saw the news yesterday morning that as of September this year Twitter is no longer going to be a free service. Obviously Twitter isn’t the most profitable of business models and, understandably, they have been working hard to rectify this. They’ve been using promoted tweets for the last year or so, but apparently they aren’t generating a sufficient revenue stream. So now, in a complete volte-face, they have decided that making the service subscription based is the way forward for them. It’s a shame because, not only do we find it an invaluable communication tool for 7 Reasons, it’s also great fun. We’ve both met some great people and both done things that we wouldn’t have done otherwise. Like create 7 Reasons. Quite frankly, the thought of not having Twitter around fills us with dread. So, in a plea to the powers that be, here are seven reasons to keep Twitter subscription free. If you agree please share this post. You never know what might happen.

1. Revenue. There are better ways to raise revenue. No one likes to pay a subscription; look at how many people subscribe to Sky in the UK compared to the number that watch ITV. This tells us that advertising is a more palatable option than a paid for service. We have contextual adverts here on this website and – apart from notable exceptions, such as Marks and Spencer advertising alongside 7 Reasons That I Hate The M&S Dine In For £10 Deal and Orange advertising on the post 7 Reasons That Life Would Be So Much Better in Black and White – this works well. Would any Twitter user really mind carefully chosen contextual adverts on their Twitter page (obviously not ads for hair loss products, incontinence pads or Greggs the bakers) instead of paying an annual subscription? I think not.

2. Relationships. I met the girl I am going to marry on Twitter. In a roundabout way. I wasn’t actually being myself, which means she’s actually marrying a spoofed professional sportsman. Luckily that’s pretty much what I am anyway. There are people out there who, perish the thought, actually pretend to be themselves. And there are people out there who are now married because of Twitter. Or reunited with friends and family because of Twitter. Or working together because of Twitter. Or sharing a cell with Big Bear because of Twitter. That just seems like an awful lot of great stuff that is going to be lost come September.

3. Fail Whale. When Twitter reverts to a subscription based service they hope to keep 25% of their users. I think it’ll be more like 2.5% but either way the Fail Whale will no longer be part of people’s lives. In the two years I have been using the network the Fail Whale has become more than a sign of overload. He has become a friend. A reassuring sight in an uncertain world. A reminder that you can’t always have what you want when you want it. In this respect the Fail Whale is a great philosopher. Communicating with us in a language the modern generation can understand. Who are we going to listen to when we can’t turn to the Fail Whale? The only Fail Whale I can think of is James Corden. And philosophy is not his strong point. Even more depressingly, neither is comedy.

4. Organisation. You have to be organised to maintain a regular subscription to something (unless you’re so disorganised that you subscribe once and remain subscribed for eternity), and organised people aren’t necessarily the most interesting people. But that’s who you’ll find tweeting in the future. Jack Kerouac, Keith Richards, Dionysus, Dorothy Parker and Queen Ranavalona the 1st of Madagascar are all fascinating characters that would be monumentally interesting tweeters, yet would find it too much hassle to maintain a regular subscription to a social networking service, even if they weren’t drunk, high, mythical or dead (or in the case of Keith Richards, possibly all of those things). This would leave Twitter in the hands of dull people, for whom renewing their subscription to Twitter would quite probably be an annual highlight. It would become a showcase for tweets by Michael Vaughan, His Excellency Baron Sir Lord Sir Alan Sugar of Sir Hackney Sir, the third Nolan Sister and Oprah fucking Winfrey. Subscription would make Twitter a duller place which would, paradoxically, make people less likely to subscribe.

5. Access The Inaccessible. Twitter is a great outlet if you want to hear the thoughts of people/things who you otherwise couldn’t. Bronx Zoo Snakes for example. Or dead dictators. Adolf Hitler has his own twitter account. Well, actually, he has about twenty, but I think nineteen of them are fakes. The real Hitler is worth a follow just so you can get a better understanding of how his mind works. If you don’t follow Hitler (and I would never encourage it) I can inform you that he’s still an angry midget. He still has issues. A recent update stated, “I’m sick of bonsai trees being so small.” When we have to pay for Twitter, answers to GCSE history questions just won’t be as informative/entertaining.

6. Expense. Unfortunately, whether you subscribe to the service or not, it’s still going to cost you. Remember the old days when it cost 12p to send an SMS or 28p to send a letter? Assuming you leave the service, it’s going to be those days all over again, only this time we’ll have to alert all of our followers every time we do something. So for us that’s 2000 texts or postcards we’ll have to send out every time we publish a new 7 Reasons post. And what if Bob replies with a text or a postcard? If we decide to reply to Bob we’ll also have to send a text or postcard to everyone who follows both 7 Reasons and Bob. What a nightmare this is going to be. Looking on the bright side at least I have free texts. Looking on the dark side stamps now cost 41p.

7. Subscription Misses The Point Of Twitter. Or, if not the point of Twitter, it misses what we all love about it. The freedom. It’s an egalitarian melting pot where views, thoughts, ideas, opinions and links to Failblog can be disseminated amongst users without some sort of hierarchical class distinction getting in the way. If it’s made a subscription service then – especially in the current harsh economic climate – many users will be excluded for no fault of their own. Should being unemployed, poor, a single-parent or a resident of the Republic of Ireland really be grounds for exclusion from social media? No, it shouldn’t. It’s vital that Twitter remains subscription free. Please retweet this piece if you agree.

April 1, 2011
7 Reasons To Wear Slippers

When you get to about ten years of age you start realising that slippers are for girls and Grandads. It is certainly a view I held for the next seventeen years. However, since moving to Kent last June, my relationship with slippers has begun to change. In my previous abode in Fulham the house was very much slipper free. Living with an Australian all I saw were thongs. (That’s Australian for flip-flop, I wasn’t a pervert). In Kent, though, the ratio of flip-flops to slippers is 1:1. Now, I don’t know why, but the slippers in question – my girlfriend’s slippers – had a habit of calling me. Wherever I looked, there they were. Asking to be worn. It’s the same as biscuits in the jar or cushions on the sofa. They demand to be eaten or jumped on. Respectively, obviously. Not simultaneously. After six months of looking after the slippers in question, I was bought my own pair. I have now worn my own slippers for three months. And far from feeling like an old man, I feel young, hip and warm in the tootsie department. If you are not a slipper wearer, here is why you should be:

1. Grip. As someone who is both active and clumsy, wooden or tiled floors have often been my downfall. Quite literally. I just can’t help but try and slide from one end of the kitchen to the other. While this can be fun, it can also be highly dangerous for both myself and other kitchen based persons. Especially if they are carrying a pan of boiling water. Or an expensive antique plant pot. While slippers will never help superglue the pot back together at least the soles prevent further accidents and weeks without receiving pocket money. An extremely valuable source of income when you want to buy a Game Boy.

2. Socks. The slipping and the sliding may have something to do with it, but the vast majority of my socks have a hole problem. Or, to be more accurate, my holes have a sock problem. I don’t buy cheap and I don’t attack them with scissors, but matter not within weeks a hole is already beginning to form. Or at least they were. Now, with the introduction of slippers to my daily attire, my socks last much longer. Much longer. We’re talking months here, not just days. To give you a more accurate picture, in the three months of 2011 so far there has only been one New Sock Saturday. In years gone by it has been at least two. Slippers means I am wearing 50% less socks each year. And that’s without reverting to my 2006 One Sock A Day project.

3. Warmth. We try not to state the bloody obvious on 7 Reasons for bloody obvious reasons, but on this occasion I feel it is fair game. That’s because I have terrible blood circulation to my extremities. Well, most of them. My toes in particular don’t feel the benefit of any blood. As a result they are always freezing and half the time I forget I have any. Now the last thing you need, especially when you are filling out an important medical form or the census, is to forget you have toes. This can lead to much confusion in the doctors canteen and a £1000 fine. Wear slippers though, and you’ll never forget.

4. Emotion. So far this year two sporting events have caught the imagination of my slippers. The Cricket World Cup and the Six Nations. In both events England have thrilled and appalled in equal measure. It’s during these moments of ecstasy and pain that I find my slippers to be of much use. A wicket or a try to the good and my slippers become the loudest clappers in the land. A wicket or a try to the bad however and they make a pleasing thwack on the table. Or a not so pleasing one on my knee. Either way, worth having a pair to hand.

5. Efficiency. Slippers are comfortable. If they are not you probably have them on the wrong foot. So take them off the unsuspecting slipper wearer and slip into them yourself. In this comfortable and warm environment one can easily begin to feel slightly sleepy. When I put my slippers on I know I am going to be asleep within the hour. On a good day I have more than an hours work to get through which means I have to work like a Chinese production line to get it done. Then, just before I start snoozing, I whip the slippers off and spend the rest of the day writing stuff for 7 Reasons. Obviously I don’t expect you to write for 7 Reasons in your now empty day, but you could do something equally worthwhile. Like see how many Jaffa Cakes you can eat in one minute. The world record is a paltry seven. I’ve managed five. This was in the days before I wore slippers though.

6. Intelligence. I don’t know about you, but I believe in this psychological nonsense. If I am not wearing the right cap I never score runs. If I don’t drink tea with my breakfast I feel thirsty. If I get the letters Z, Q and J when playing Scrabble I never win. Well, in the same light, if I don’t wear my slippers I don’t feel very intelligent. I feel somewhat immature and insecure and other words that begin with ‘i’ that I’d only be able to think of if I was wearing my slippers right now. Which only goes to prove my point.

7. Superiority. I was originally going to publish this post at the start of March, but I wanted to conduct an experiment based on the above. Was I really a better performer with slippers on? Well, the jury is very much still out on this one. What I can tell you, however, is that if I answered the door whilst wearing slippers people were much politer to me and much more in awe of my standing than they were the one time I didn’t. That was the time Gary the builder wondered if I wanted my guttering looked at. When I told him that I was quite capable of looking at it myself he got in a huff. I don’t blame him. That’s slippers for you. Or the lack of anyway.

March 31, 2011
7 Reasons to Ignore What People Tell You About Babies*

Either I’m missing something or our six day old baby is defective. I was brought up to believe that parenthood was a living hell and that newborn babies were the worst things in all of existence. But, so far, and I hope I’m not tempting fate here, it isn’t and he isn’t. Doubtless there’ll be times when he’s poorly – or we are – and the going is really tough, but the babygeddon that I was led to believe I should expect as a new father has yet to materialise. I’m beginning to suspect that people have been lying to us.

It isn’t like this.

1. “It’s hard, it’s really hard. It’s awful. You won’t sleep for the first three years and then when you do, he’ll wake you up within five minutes just to spite you.” Blimey. Okay, so we need to feed and change him regularly day and night, but we seem to be getting loads of sleep. I actually feel guilty. I’ve begun stretching and pretending to yawn to make other parents feel better. “Oh, it’s absolute hell” I tell them in agreement, while wondering what all the fuss is about. Will it be possible for my wife and I to survive on only eight hours sleep per day each? Only time will tell.

2. “He’ll scream for hours for no reason.” No, there is a reason. In the case of the changing-table-screaming, it’s because he doesn’t want two giants tearing all his warm, protective layers off and attacking his bits with cotton wool every time he smells funny. I wouldn’t like it either. Nor would you. Fortunately we have worked out that we can distract him with the Poo Donkey; which is the donkey that comes and takes away the baby poo. (Not related to the father that takes the piss). Thank you, Poo Donkey, if it weren’t for you, the baby would still be screaming every changing time. Babies do scream for a reason. It just takes a bit of working out what it is.

All hail the Poo Donkey!

3. “You’ll never be able to go anywhere ever again.” Yes we can, and we have; every day. We’ve mostly been to Boots, Mothercare and the doctor’s surgery and we have to take a bit more stuff and it takes us a little longer to get ready, but we’ve been perfectly mobile. Okay, we get a few minutes of pushchair screaming which we don’t have a donkey to sort for us yet, but, with a bit of determination and preparation, a tiny child seems to be no obstacle to doing anything. I sense that only our own inertia would be.

4. “Boys will wee absolutely everywhere, on everything.” Yes, and babies are the same. Fortunately though, fast-hands can protect you from this. Yes, my nephew (also a baby) has managed to wee in my sister’s mouth and eye on more than one occasion, but this – I am sure – can be attributed to her having the spatial awareness and lightning reactions of a morphine-addled sloth listening to a tuba (throughout my sister’s childhood, the cry of “catch” was almost always followed by a sharp and unexpected blow to her forehead). For those of us with superhuman awareness and reactions (or even with human awareness and reactions) it is not difficult to place a hand between the source of the wee and the thing you want to protect from it. Sadly, my wife’s coat (on the back of a door several feet away) was sacrificed in the learning of this. But so far, we have not drowned in wee.

5. “There’s poo everywhere and you’ll spend your entire life cleaning it up.” No there isn’t, it’s conveniently contained within nappies, which – at this early stage – are not unpleasant to change (even for someone as squeamish as myself). Let’s say he does six poos per day and it takes five minutes each time to clean and change him. That’s only half an hour per day. The BBC have just axed My Family, so there’s half an hour. Now all we need is for them to axe EastEnders and Holby City and that’s a week we can spend dealing with shit, rather than watching it. Or we can just turn it off (the television, not the poo). Half an hour is not difficult to find. Half an hour is not all day, and half an hour every day is not an entire lifetime. For some people it’s not even an entire lunchtime.

6. “Newborn babies are really cute and their tiny little hands and feet are gorgeous. Awww. Sssswwwweeeeeettttt ickle babies. Do do do do do do do”. No they’re not. Our child has feet almost as large as his mother’s and fingers so long that he could probably play the piano if he could reach it. Or if we had a piano. Our son also has a hairier arse than most builders. Not all babies have tiny hands and feet.

7. “The baby will take over your life.” Yes – okay I have to concede that there may be a point there – and 7 Reasons apparently**. Expect us to have wrested some of it back from his evil clutches by next week though. Jon and I can take a baby in a fight. We’re not scared. Bring it on, you big baby!

*Don’t listen to me either, I expect that everyone’s experiences of parenthood are just different and we shouldn’t imagine that what we have undergone will be universally the same for others.

**We will be putting the baby away soon and normal service – rambling on about biscuits and France – will resume shortly.

March 30, 2011
7 Reasons Potatoes Are The Answer To Anger Management Issues

One evening last week I went to bed. This isn’t news, but what happened next is. My fiancée and I started talking about potatoes. Now, I don’t want you thinking this is natural bedroom behaviour for us, in fact, I can assure you we have never spoken of potatoes – or indeed potato based products – in bed before. And we probably never will again. But in that moment it felt right. Having discussed the merits of King Edwards, we promptly moved on to the more pressing matter of potato preparation. It dawned on us – well Claire really, I was checking my email – that potato preparation is the new boxing. Or anger management tool anyway. To paraphrase – without intention of belittling – Winston Churchill’s famous words, “Never in the field of the kitchen is so much owed by so many angry people to so few potatoes”. Here’s why:

1. Skin Them. Does anything beat the satisfaction of skinning a potato? Well, possibly a carrot. And buying a yacht. And eating biscuits. But skinning a potato is still good. How much skin can you peel off in one go? It’s like peeling an orange for real men. (With anger management issues).

2. Chop Them. Maybe it’s a quick release you need. Chopping or dicing will have you feeling relaxed in no time. Unless you lose a finger. In which case you’ll probably ruin your dinner.

3. Stab Them. If you are so angry that you are going to do something stupid, I recommend getting a knife out of the drawer. Now you can stab the little git and microwave it to the point of explosion. And once you’ve done that, you can do the same with your potato.

4. Roast Them. Maybe your anger is so instilled that it’s going to take a long time for you to calm down. Stick a potato in the oven and watching it slowly toast. I find having a window in the oven door helps with this. Otherwise you have to put your head in the oven. Not only is it hot, the potato always gets in the way.

5. Boil Them. More slow death treatment, only this time the pain is much more visible. The bubbling, the steaming, the stabbing with a fork to see if they are done. You’ll be mellowed out in twenty-five minutes with this method.

6. Mash Them. Whatever or whoever has annoyed you, just pretend you are mashing the life out of it/them. I find adding a little milk and butter helps the process of mashing Davina McCall to death much more pleasant.

7. Saute Them. In the words of Claire, “Cook them once, cook them twice. Twice the pain, twice the satisfaction. Mwhahahahaha!” I think I shall don the apron tonight.

March 29, 2011
7 Reasons That There is no Stigma Attached to my Spectacles

Regular readers of 7 Reasons might be not have been aware that half of the team has been expecting a rather special delivery for the last fortnight or so but we have and now, I can proudly announce, that it has arrived. My new spectacles are here. I’ve never had to wear them before and here are seven reasons that there is no stigma attached to wearing them whatsoever. None. At all. Got that?

Spectacle-ur*

1. Because I Got To Go To The Optician. And while I couldn’t write about my experiences there – because it’s been done far better already – I was able to enjoy a unique facility that is provided by my local Specsavers: Their waiting area overlooks the front door, just inside of which is a loose doormat. I have never been so royally entertained by slapstick in my entire life. The sight of almost all of the hapless and unsuspecting customers stumbling through the door was one of the most entertaining things I have seen in a long while. And they would have been able to enjoy the sight of me stumbling out onto the busy street half an hour later if this were not an optician. There is no stigma attached to physical comedy and even Norman Wisdom is cool. In Albania.

2. Because I Am Long-Sighted. I’m not near-sighted, short-sighted, ordinarily-sighted, conventionally-sighted or even averagely-sighted; I’m long-sighted. This is optician-speak for awesome. I can see a long way. I have super-sight. There is no stigma attached to being awesome. Superman is only unofficially awesome and he can get away with wearing his underpants on the outside of his trousers. I am officially awesome, therefore can easily get away with spectacles. And perhaps even the checked-shirt.

3. Wearing Spectacles Is A Necessary Public Service. Because I’m long-sighted, there’s almost nothing that I wouldn’t be able to see if I weren’t wearing them. The spectacles are actually needed to tame my sight. If it weren’t for them, the Hubble space telescope would probably be redundant and people as far away as Addis-Ababa would need curtains (if they don’t already). I’m wearing them for the greater good and there should be no social stigma attached to philanthropy.

4. I Need Them To Look At A Screen For A Long Time. I’m not going to guilt-trip the readers of 7 Reasons by suggesting that I would go blind writing my half of it if it weren’t for the glasses, but I would. Because I have to stare at a screen for a long time and I occasionally have to look at this image. Which always makes me try to stab myself in the eyes with a pencil. The glasses are necessary protection against this. If only they made spectacles for the mind.

5. Because Science Is Cool. Science is currently seen as hip and interesting, and glasses are a universally acknowledged signifier of scientific knowledge and capability. Watch any Hollywood movie – or Thunderbirds – and you know that the one in the glasses is the scientist; usually it’s Jeff Goldblum. Does Professor Brian Cox wear glasses? No. Do I (very occasionally) wear glasses? Yes. So to those unfamiliar with him, this makes me the better scientist. Right until I start to talk about quarks and molecular something-or-other and get distracted and end up talking about Ray-Bans.

6. Because They’re Ray-Bans. I love Ray-Bans. I’ve always worn them as sunglasses and I once got called a Ray-Ban geek by an assistant in a Ray-Ban shop, just because I knew the model numbers off by heart. And what the little codes on the arms mean. And I foolishly mentioned it out loud. Once. And my spectacles are Ray-Bans that I can wear at night and indoors without looking like a complete cock**. This is progress. Now the only place I can’t wear Ray-Bans legitimately is in bed when I’m asleep. And perhaps even then I could put opaque lenses in and use them as the world’s coolest eye-mask. Wearing spectacles is another step on my journey toward having Ray-Bans permanently affixed to my face. And Ray-Bans are cool: In my head, if not outside it.

7. Parenthood. I’m now a parent and, in years to come, when Byron Sebastian Fearns is making the long and daunting walk to his father’s desk to receive some sort of stern admonishment, I will need to move the glasses to the end of my nose so that I can look over the top of them while rebuking him. Because I know – from experience – that no telling-off is complete without that. And that putting clingfilm over the toilet bowl is frowned upon by people in glasses. Bugger. I used to love that.

*Yes, I did type this entire piece using only one hand.

**Sadly, they won’t prevent me from being one.

March 28, 2011
Russian Roulette Sunday: The Return Of The 7 Reasons Origami Team

After the success of last weeks poll in which a massive 79% of you said you would prefer to borrow Marc over me, I have decided to accept my place as the lesser member of the 7 Reasons team. I have also decided not to dwell on my humiliating defeat. Though it did hurt. A lot. But like I say, I am not going to dwell. Instead I am going to hand you ungrateful lot over to the 7 Reasons origami team.

March 27, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Boys Are Better Than Girls

Just over a year ago you may remember Natalie Clifford gave us 7 Reasons Why Women Are Better Than Men. And, for a year, we have let the fairer sex have their moment. Mainly because no one dared argue differently. That is until one man decided to step forward. That man is brave. That man is the writer of The Memory Blog. That man is Richard O’Hagan. Today Richard sits on the edge of the 7 Reasons sofa – in an undisclosed location – ready to readdress the balance. Here, in his words, are seven reasons boys are better than girls.

The idea for this post came to me one Sunday evening. I was stood there doing the ironing and utterly failing to come up with any ideas for my own website when the sight of my wife preparing my dinner* made me think, “Being a boy is so much better than being a girl.”**

And then I thought, “I wonder if those nice chaps at 7 Reasons would be interested in a guest post which might actually increase their site traffic, even if all of the new hits are from angry feminazis?”

So here you have it – 7 Reasons Why Boys Are Better Than Girls, and one which hopefully avoids all the tired old suggestions such as ‘being able to pee standing up’*** and ‘not leaking like a BP oil well once a month’.

1. Self-Awareness. Boys are simply more self aware than girls are. Boys know that once they have got out of bed in the morning, that is pretty much as good as they are going to look for the rest of the day. A quick wash and brush up, maybe a shave (according to personal and religious preferences) and that is it. We don’t spend time applying many different layers of make-up, or agonising over what to wear that day, because we know we’d only be trying to fool ourselves. And this then leads to…

2. Lower Expectations. Everyone knows I am going to show up to any given event looking like I have been dragged through a hedge backwards. I’ve been perfecting the look for years and I know that there is as much point trying to get me to look smart as there is in giving Pompeii a quick dusting. If you don’t spend your life trying to look as if you have just strolled in off the pages of a fashion magazine then no-one expects you to look like that.

3. Less Gullible. Let us not beat around the bush here. Boys are less gullible than girls. No-one has ever convinced us that nylon – a material which unravels as soon as you look at it – is a suitable covering for our legs. No-one has ever convinced us that we need to chuck out a quarter of our clothing every three months because “that’s so last spring/summer/autum/winter”. And no-one has ever convinced us to wear beige simply by renaming it ‘taupe’****.

4. Cats. The phrase is ‘Crazy Cat Lady’. No-one ever said ‘Crazy Cat Man’ (well, not without being so stoned that they think it is still the 1960s) and no man has ever been found dead and alone in a feline infested flat, with the moggies feasting upon his decaying flesh. Being a girl means developing a strange attracting to furry four-legged gits.

5. Shoes. Boys wear sensible shoes. Shoes you can run in (see reason 7). Shoes you can walk in. Shoes which are comfortable. Girls, on the other hand, think that shoes mean some towering edifice which makes perambulation almost impossible and painful toes a part of daily life. Moreover, being a girl means that you feel the need to spend roughly the Gross National Product of Namibia on acquiring more uncomfortable shoes than you could ever need even if you lived for six lifetimes. Boys have one pair of shoes, wear them until they wear out, then buy another pair; Girls have eleventy million pairs of shoes, wear some of them, then chuck them out and start all over again twelve months later (see reason three)*****.

6. Driving. Cars were simply not designed for girls. This is no slight upon the perceived lack of driving ability among females, it is a fact. The basic design of the car began with the male physique in mind and hasn’t altered. Girls have proportionately longer legs and shorter bodies than boys. If cars were designed for them they would have deeper footwells, lower dashboards and no doubt many other female-friendly alterations (a lipstick holder or something). No car has yet been made like this, not even the Mazda MX-5, a car no male with a molecule of testosterone in his body would be seen dead driving.

7. Running. Running makes boys look manly, as if they are hunting down prey or chasing a foe. When girls run they always look like they are attempting to do a very fast Charleston whilst simultaneously going in the opposite direction. Something which I shall now demonstrate by running away from this angry horde of feminazis******.

*She was not cooking because I am some kind of raving sexist monster, she was cooking because the local crematorium cannot keep pace with the after-effects if I cook.

**This was after the umpteenth interruption to reach down something from the middle shelf of our kitchen cupboards, a task I perform willingly but whilst wondering what the use of a kitchen cupboard is if 50% of the users cannot reach beyond the salt and pepper storage level*******

***I once heard the occasionally-funny Sandi Toksvig claim that women didn’t regard this as an essential skill. Try telling that to the female attendees at any large outdoor event.

****Moreover, the invention of ‘taupe’ had a detrimental effect upon the men of the world, as by the million they were denied Bouncy Bedroom Fun by their female partners after exclaiming “Taupe? Looks like beige to me, love”

*****For the avoidance of doubt, my wife is not a typical girl. At least in this respect.

******There is no reason for this set of asterisks. In addition to alienating 51% of the world’s population, I wanted to break the ‘most asterisks in a post’ record

*******There are other things as well as salt and pepper on that level, obviously. Or will be, right up to the point where my wife reads this and throws them at me

March 26, 2011
7 Reasons Not To Panic About Losing An Hour From Our Lives

Yay! It’s Friday. In the words of Rebecca Black, “fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, back seat, woohoo!, are you old enough to drive? Fun, fun, fun, fun, fun!” There is even more reason to celebrate today because this weekend the clocks go forward. Lighter evenings here we come. Hang on! If the clocks go forward, doesn’t that mean we lose an hour from our lives? Well, yes it does. But don’t worry, here at 7 Reasons we have invested countless minutes researching and analysing this issue. And the good news is there is no need to panic. Here’s why:

1. Sleep. It’s only sleep we’re losing, and sleep is awful. When I’m asleep nothing of interest happens to me (unless I’m having the dream when I’m being chased around the dining room by a horse named Keith again), and I’d wager that nothing interesting happens to you either (possibly not even the Keith dream). Sleep just isn’t a desirable state for people. After all, narcolepsy is considered an illness, not a talent, and no one (except Audley Harrison) ever celebrates being knocked unconscious in a fight. That’s because sleep is rubbish. We’re all better off with less of it.

2. Sleep Walking. If you are having the dream in which you are being chased around the dining room by a horse called Keith, it might not be a dream at all. You wouldn’t know, you’re asleep. There is a possibility that it’s actually happening. Maybe, in your dream state, you got up, left the house and went to a local field. Here you crept up on a horse and shouted ‘Keith!’ in his ear. Keith stirred, got annoyed and then chased you back to your house. You didn’t shut the door in time so you spent the rest of the night being chased around the dining room table. Anyway, what I am trying to say is that this whole episode will last for one hour less on Sunday morning. And one hour less being chased by a horse called Keith means one hour less in which carnage can be created.

3. Awake. If you are not asleep, then the chances are you will be awake. Given that it will be 2am though, you won’t be sober. So from the flowerbed in the park you won’t even notice the disappearance of an hour. You’ll be too busy talking to a tulip.

4. Refund. If losing an hour from your life really hurts, don’t worry, you will automatically get it back in October. All you have to do is stay alive. Good luck!

5. Wood Pigeons. We can stand to lose an extra hour from our lives; I know this because of the wood pigeons. My wife and I were recently cooped up in a small room without the internet for several hours and we were forced to look out of the window for entertainment. The only things of note that we could see were a branch railway line and some trees. The trees contained wood pigeons. Here is a sample of the conversation:

“Ooh look, darling. A wood pigeon.”

“Yes dear.”

“Ooh look, darling, there’s another wood pigeon. Look! Look! In the next tree.”

“Yes dear.”

“Which wood pigeon do you prefer?

That is an hour we could happily have lost from our lives.

6. We’re Only Losing The Dark. It’s spring! It’s just going to get lighter. The hour we’re losing is an hour of darkness and who needs that anyway? Birds turn themselves off at night, so we’re getting an extra hour of birds, with all of the beaks, eyes and feathers that entails. Obviously that means there’ll be an extra hour of bird poo, but that means I get to see my apoplectic next door neighbour shake his fist at the sky and furiously wash his car more often. This is a bonus. More birds, people. More birds!*

7. Cure. Let’s be honest, if you are panicking about the clocks going forward, you are screwed. There is no cure for this ailment. So you have a choice, panic every year or stop being a tit and get on with it. 7 Reasons recommends the latter.

*Except owls. Bugger.

March 25, 2011
7 Reasons To Name Your Son Byron

Yes, it’s me. I’m back. Despite quitting on Tuesday, I find myself back in front of the 7 Reasons CMS typing away. Apparently I need to give two years notice if I want to leave. Roll on March 2013 then! So that’s the future sorted, now let’s concentrate on today. You probably remember with great fondness that day I gave you seven reasons to name your son Troy. Since then there has been a 0.004% rise in the number of Troys in the world showing that with great reasoning comes great Christenings. It did dawn on me though that, given its current upward curve of popularity, come the year 5000, one in every 18,000 people would be called Troy. That’s too many Troys floating around. As a result I need to increase the popularity of another name to decrease the popularity of Troy. And the name I have chosen is Byron. Here are seven reasons to name your son Byron:

1. Unique. If you get in now, your son will have a very unique name. According to wikipedia only 24 people in the entire world have the first name Byron. Personally I think it’s closer to 25. They are probably just slow at updating their records. That’s still not many though.

2. Achiever. On that wikipedia list of 24, there are professional sportsmen, US senators and a Greek cellist. In fact the worst profession of any of the Byrons is ‘Welsh football player’. You name your son Byron and you watch him go.

3. Strength. I suspect the above has something to do with the following. The name Byron is a motivator. On the one hand constantly saying ‘Bye Ron’ to your son will have a slightly negative effect. For one, he’ll think he’s called Ron and secondly, he’ll feel neglected. On the positive side though, it will make Ron a tough character. He’ll start looking after himself from a very young age. Your Byron will probably start cleaning cars for money. Then he’ll sell cars for money. Then he’ll sell money for more money. Eventually he’ll be hosting series 63 of The Apprentice. It’ll be amazing to watch him say, ‘You’re fired!’ and the firee reply with a cheery, ‘Bye Ron’.

4. Awkwardness. Quite why anyone would want to know where young Byron was conceived is beyond my capabilities of understanding. Just in case you are friends with one (or more) of the Loose Women though, the name automatically answers their question. Yep, Byron Bay. It would be helpful if you had an amazing holiday in Australia nine months before the birth too. Just so the story has gravitas.

5. Twins. If you would like more than one child at the time of birth, deciding on naming your son Byron is a sure fire way of ending up with twins. Byron, get one free.*

6. Shortening. The great thing about the name Byron is that he can shorten it to match his occupation or hobbies. If he invents a new pen, it’s Byro. If he likes dabbling in the stock-market, it’s Byr. If he likes women and men, it’s By. And if he enjoys pollinating flowers, making honey, stinging people and dying, it’s B.

7. Meaning. The name Byron means ‘barn for cows’ or ‘at the cattle sheds’. You know where you stand with that. I suspect one of the reasons for my self-loving is because Jonathan means ‘gift of God’.

PS: Many congratulations to anyone who has had a baby recently. Particularly if you’ve called him (or her) Byron.

*I’m sorry. This is probably the worst reason I have ever written. I just couldn’t help myself.

March 24, 2011