Tag: Mirror

Guest Post: 7 Reasons Your Bathroom Needs Renovating

Like most men, we take the 7 Reasons bathroom for granted. We don’t spend very long in there (certainly not together) and very rarely do we have a conversation about it. Today, though, that might have to change. Because today Stephanie Staszko is on the 7 Reasons sofa and Stephanie has just had a look at our bathroom. To be entirely honest, she wasn’t that impressed. According to her, it’s time for a change. And if your bathroom looks anything like the below, it’s probably time you got the builders and plumbers in too. Right, after the photo, it’ll be Stephanie.

This may (or may not) be the 7 Reasons bathroom

Everyday your bathroom burdens your life that little bit more, maybe it’s the pink bathtub fresh out of the 1970s that makes your blood boil? Or perhaps it’s the sink that refuses to accept water to flow down the plughole and so regurgitates it with tufts of hair? If you really want a bathroom makeover – but can’t find a good enough reason to splash the cash – here are a few 7 reasons to justify the expense…

1. The Toilet Seat of Doom. Everyone’s had that moment, when you’re desperate for the toilet and when you finally get there, you place your behind on the seat in satisfaction and release an “aaahhh”. But in some unfortunate circumstances this is closely followed by a sideways jolt, a skip of the heartbeat and the realisation that you could slowly be disappearing down the pan. If this sounds like your daily bathroom experience it’s time for a new toilet seat!

2. Mirror, Mirror On The Wall… Mirrors gather dirt and grime over time, making their visibility slowly deteriorate. If you find that you’re starting to look somewhat more attractive on a Monday morning it’s time for either an eye test or to replace that deceiving bathroom mirror. After all, you’re only kidding yourself!

3. Tap Dancing. Over excitable bathroom taps revel in your embarrassment. No matter how carefully you approach turning that handle to release a steady flow, the tap unleashes an almighty gush of water, destined only for one area: your crotch. As you leave the house displaying what resembles a bladder problem, it’s time you realised new taps could actually improve your social life.

4. Shower Power. After a hard day’s work you feel grimy and groggy, so what could possibly be more refreshing than a shower? That would be a hard question to answer if your shower head didn’t have a personal vendetta against your eyeball. As you turn on the spray and expect a warming sensation, you’re greeted unexpectedly with a powerful gush that ruins your retina. The perfect reason for a new bathroom – you don’t want to wind up blind.

5. Posterior Pincher. It seems toilet seats have a lot in common with sea creatures – particularly crabs. These toilet seats are particularly nasty as they trap the skin on your buttocks as you sit, sending you shooting into the air with the sharp pain of the pinch. One of these times it WILL result in a nasty accident.

6. Banana Skin Bathtub. Much like the slapstick comedies, the bottom of your bathtub can mimic the effect of stepping on a banana skin. Even if you’ve yet to be seriously injured by a slip, the fact that your stomach pretty much ends up in your mouth from every near death experience says that your bathroom suite’s a health hazard.

7. The Toe-Breaker. If you’ve tried your hand at DIY by hanging your own towel rail you may realise your toes could be in jeopardy. As you lift your towel with the utmost care so as not to dislodge the rail a sense of fear creeps over you as the rail ever-so slightly drops. If you’re considering wearing steel toe-capped boots for each bathroom venture then your towel rail needs replacing.

After reading this you’re probably too scared to ever step foot in your bathroom again. But fear not, bathroom suites which are correctly installed can actually be rather enjoyable to use. Get that toilet repaired and take your newspaper for some quiet, thinking time.

November 11, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Lose Some Weight

Today we are joined on the 7 Reasons sofa by Chris. Chris works as a financial blogger for moneysupermarket.com life insurance, and spends quite a lot of time writing about how losing weight and getting fit can help save you money on it. This year he decided to stop being such a hypocrite and sort his life out, and thought he’d go on about it endlessly both in real life and on people’s websites too. He’s also arguably funnier than we have ever been, which is a bit annoying.

Disclaimer: Neither of these men is Chris.

This year, I’ve lost just over 80 pounds in weight. No, no – don’t congratulate me. It’s nothing, really. However, if you really do want to do something for me, why not read my seven reasons why you should definitely lose weight?

1. No Longer Looking Like James Corden. This one is probably personal to me – I recently watched my friend’s wedding day video and it looks like he hired a really bad James Corden impersonator to be his best man. The best man’s speech looks like Smithy from Gavin and Bloody Stacey came barrelling in at the last moment and started taking the mick out of the poor groom while his mother looked on, aghast. I hate James Corden more than I probably should for exactly this reason.

2. Not Sweating Constantly From May To August. You know what’s really not attractive? Sweating. Especially when you can’t stop it from the moment the British weather goes a degree or two over its usual dank quagmire of about 10 degrees Celsius. I used to look like a Death Star with a leak; I’d take to hiding inside on warm days and peering out of the window like that guy from Rear Window – not exactly the best way to live your life, but arguably the best way to be near to your Pringles and the fridge.

3. Being Able To Look At Yourself In The Mirror. “Oh, hello there, me”, I quite often say now when I see myself in the mirror. “I didn’t see you there, what with you being so slender and lithe and flitting in and out through the trees like an ephemeral, gossamer thin slip of silk.”

Yeah, it’s probably quite strange that I have trees in my bathroom, but don’t judge me, man. It’s better than what I used to say to myself in the mirror, which was usually something like “Hey! You! *noisy breath* do you have any sausages? I really want a sausage but we don’t seem to have any…”

4. Being Able To Buy ‘Normal People’ Clothes. Thankfully, I was never quite relegated to the dark depths of the “big and tall” shop, but upon reaching the outer limits of even Asda’s generously sized clothing range, you do start to wonder whether you might be getting a bit too portly. Losing weight means you no longer have to worry about clothes not fitting, and can join the rest of the world in despairing because shops don’t stock anywhere near enough of the average sized stuff so all they ever have is for dolls or Silverback Gorillas.

5. A Better Class Of Nicknames. Big Boy. Big Man. Shrek. A Poor Man’s James Corden. Two of those are things I’ve called myself; the nicer two are indicative of the sorts of things people would refer to me as, rather than going “And what about you, Tubbo the Lardy?” Oddly, people seem to think that names like this are acceptable because you’ve not used the word Fat. True enough, it still amazes me how many perfect strangers start conversations with me by saying “Cuh, you’ve lost some weight, haven’t you?”, but that’s nicer than a fat joke wrapped in a nice coating – like an easter egg.

6. The Looks You Get When You Buy Food. So myself and my girlfriend are in a restaurant together. It’s a nice day, it’s lunchtime, and I know I’ve got food at home for my tea – I order a salad, and whilst I’m saying the words, I watch.
One…Two…Ping!
There they are. The raised eyebrows of a waiter or waitress who expected me to heavily and slimily drool the word “Burger!” through my sticky, salty lips until they brought me one and I devoured it like an Amoeba absorbs plant cells. Every bloody time. This is usually followed by the assumption that the person bringing the food normally makes; the one where they look at me and then the salad, then assumes they’ve got something for a different table.
This of course is very similar to that begging look the waiter would have if I did order a burger or similar; that look that says “Okay, but please don’t have a heart attack in here – at least not until 7 o’clock, when my shift finishes…”

7. Ego Inflation. When was the last time someone told you you looked fantastic, or said that they wish you could do what you do? Of course, if you’re Elle Macpherson’s identical twin who happens to do brain surgery, then it’s probably quite a lot, but for those of us normal human beings, a nice compliment probably doesn’t happen all that often. Lose a bit of weight though and they’ll come from all over the shop – lose enough and you’ll start doing what I do, where you deliberately don’t see someone for a few weeks, just so when you come strutting into the pub in your new jeans and crop top (shut up, I like showing off), they’re amazed. Losing weight doesn’t make you more confident, but everyone telling you how great you look sure as hell does!

October 31, 2011
7 Reasons That I Hate The Man At The Pub

It was all going so well. All I had to do was go to an unfamiliar pub and meet four friends that were there waiting for me. But there was a man at the pub who cocked it all up and made everything infuriatingly difficult. Here are seven reasons that I hate him.

1. The Man At The Pub Is In My Way. Exiting the bar with a pint in my hand and entering a narrow, dimly-lit anteroom with tables and stools situated haphazardly on either side of barely delineated central walkway I walked past a couple of tables and spotted my friends seated approximately two tables away, ahead of me and to the right. I moved toward them squeezing between the stools on the cluttered walkway. But there was a problem. There was a man also squeezing his way through the cluttered throng of drinkers, tables and stools in the opposite direction, heading toward me. Fairly soon he was in my way.

2. The Man At The Pub Moves In The Wrong Direction. As an Englishman I did what came naturally and stepped to my left as I approached him, in the knowledge that when he moved to his left, there would be sufficient room for us both to pass; assuming that we turned sideways, squeezed in and stopped breathing (because everyone stops breathing when performing this sort of manoeuvre, even though there is no earthly reason for doing so). But the man didn’t move to his left, he moved to mine (his right). He was still in my way.

3. The Man At The Pub Is Stupid. No, that’s uncharitable. He’s not necessarily stupid, I thought. Perhaps he hails from a country where they drive on the right. Perhaps he doesn’t drive. Perhaps he’s drunk; he does, after all, have a pint in his hand. I did what any other sensible person would do, given that he was to my left. I stepped to my right. But at the same moment that I moved to my right, he moved to his left. We had both moved but were both still blocking each other’s path. Bugger.

4. The Man At The Pub Is Still In My Way. Oh God, I inexplicably thought, to a being that I don’t believe in, this could go on all night. This could be one of those occasions where I and a random unwitting partner selected purely by proximity and happenstance perform the tentative and ungainly dance that I know as The Get-The-Hell-Out-Of-My-Way-And-Stop-Shuffling-From-Side-To-Side-In-Front-Of-Me-You-Simpering-Ninny. A blushing teenage girl and I once performed this dance on a narrow pavement outside of the Lewes branch of Waitrose for a full fifty seconds; replete with breezily uttered apologies, good-natured rolling-of-the-eyes, winsome shrugs and staccato bursts of nervous laughter. It was excruciating. I wanted to die. I wished the ground would open up and swallow me (which would actually have solved the problem). There was no way I was going to repeat that again. I resolved not to move any more this time. “Sorry”, I said to the man with the pint, instinctively, at the same time as he said “sorry” to me. Ah, I thought, he is English after all.

5. The Man At The Pub Is Mysterious. Then something else hit me. This man looked vaguely familiar. We regarded each other for a split-second, but I wasn’t quite sure who he was. It was one of those moments, when, in the back of your mind, you know that you know a person but for whatever reason – usually to do with seeing them outside of their usual context – you can’t quite place them. This was perplexing.

6. The Man At The Pub Is Confused. I noticed that my friends – who were frustratingly still ahead of me and to the right, as the man and I were going nowhere, were all looking at me – two were pointing – and roaring with laughter. They were hysterical. I failed to see how two grown men trying to get out of each other’s way in a pub was quite that funny, but then I noticed something quite odd. Although my friends were seated ahead of me and to the right, the sound of their laughter was coming from behind me and to the right. I turned to face the sound. My friends were sitting there. I turned back to face the man blocking my path. Then I realised why he looked familiar. He was me. I was the man in my way.

7. The Man At The Pub Is A Laughing Stock. It turned out that some bright spark had come up with the brilliant idea of covering the entire back wall of a small, dimly lit room with a mirror to make it appear lighter and airier and the customers appear stupider. As I turned and walked toward the table where my friends were still laughing uproariously, the sniggering barmaid was busy collecting glasses there. Feeling rather embarrassed and wishing to downplay the act of foolishness that I was slowly realising I would never, ever be allowed to forget I sought a crumb of comfort from her. “That must happen all the time,” I stated blithely to her. “No.” She replied rather haughtily, “that’s never happened before”. With that, she turned away and walked out of the room, back to the bar, from where we could hear her sobs of laughter for many minutes. The evening didn’t go well. Still, as long as I don’t write about it, no one else will ever know. Oh. Bugger.

September 13, 2011
7 Reasons To Look In The Mirror Before Leaving The House

The first thing to say about about today’s 7 Reasons post is that I feel very guilty for what I am about to write. What you are about to read is a savage attack on one elderly gentleman’s dress sense. An elderly gentleman who no doubt fought in the War just so I could live in a world where I am free to judge him. It’s hardly the way in which to offer thanks is it? And I honestly do feel somewhat ashamed for what appears below. The thing is though, if I don’t help this gentleman out, then Trinny and Susannah will. That is something I am not prepared to let happen. So, here we go. May I present a hero dressed terribly.

The more observant of you will note that this man is wearing an MCC blazer and bow tie. That’s because he is an MCC member and was yesterday evening at Lord’s watching Middlesex battle it out with Worcestershire. I wasn’t. I was at home watching it on Sky Sports. Which is where I saw the man, blinked, wondered if what I had just seen was real, rewound the TV, watched the footage again, found the man and hit pause. I then took the above photo. I am sure you can think of your own reasons, but here are my top seven as to why he really should have looked in the mirror.

1. Trousers (Part One). He’s wearing them quite high. And when I say quite high, I mean around his chest. Unless you take style tips from Simon Cowell that’s an odd place for the waistband to sit. And when I say odd, I mean bloody ridiculous. What happens if you are caught short – as I understand is a regular occurrence when you reach a certain age? Your fly will open somewhere around your belly button. That’s just asking for trouble. And a wet patch.

2. Trousers (Part Two). If the waistband is around the chest, we can only guess at what point the legs of the trousers end. We must be talking some serious ankle swingers. And probably white socks. It’s not a good image is it?

3. Shirt. If this man had looked in the mirror before heading off to Lord’s he would have realised that the last time he used the washing machine he had an absolute nightmare. Resulting in at least one shrunken shirt.

4. Checks. Admittedly the sickly MCC egg and bacon attire makes it very had to look stylish while sitting in the pavilion, but one should know that mixing stripes with checks is a serious fashion faux pas. Unless he was trying to dazzle the Worcestershire batsmen. In which case he is a cleverer man than I have given him credit for and I feel somewhat inadequate to continue writing. But I shall.

5. Disguise. It was a dark, damp evening at Lord’s which leads me to ask whether the sun hat and sunglasses were strictly necessary. It is as if this man was trying to hide from someone. Unfortunately, on the evidence no one told the dear fellow that the best way of hiding is by blending in. Or going into the loft for a decade.

6. Abuse. As I have previously mentioned, this post is a sad indictment of society today. My only defence – and I fully accept it is both a pathetic and futile one – is that I write ravaged by guilt. There are many who would see this man and – without even a thought as to the harm it would cause – draw comparisons between him and this pair. And that is completely unacceptable. Accurate, but unacceptable.

7. Hat. Is it me or is there a suspicious lump on the top of his head? A lump concealed by a small white floppy. I’m thinking pigeons. I’m thinking this is Blowers’ new pigeon supplier. Which not only goes to prove this man doesn’t look in the mirror when he’s about to leave the home, it also means he isn’t a regular reader of 7 Reasons. And that really is the great disappointment here.

May 18, 2011