Tag: pain

7 Reasons Not To Have An Argument With A Cactus

As anyone who has ever crossed an inanimate object will know, you can rarely win. And as for a cactus, well you can never win. Ever. Ever, ever, ever. It’s like a rule.

1. Pain. Let’s start with the basics. Cacti hurt. Get physical with one and it’ll prick you, get verbal with it and it will blank you. A cactus is indestructible. You can never win.

2. Madness. If you do decide to persist with the Steve Waugh mental disintegration tactic you will go mad. It won’t snap. It won’t wilt under the pressure. It will just stand there, Rahul Dravid-like, and make you look like a complete numb nuts. Your only option will be to out live every single person on the planet. Only that way will people never know that you lost the one-sided argument. You can never win.

3. Arnie. No, this is not a strange fact about Arnold Schwarzenger and his collection of cacti. It is simply a philosophy shared by both a cactus and the Terminator. It’ll be back. Always. You can attack it with a saw, try and drown it in molten aluminium, urinate on it, whatever. The simple truth is that it will always come back. It’ll grow again. It’ll break out of its metal shell. It’ll thrive in your urea. The cacti will never die. You can never win.

4. Terminator 2. Say you do take a junior hacksaw to it – or a pair of jeans falls down from where they are hanging, knocks the cactus off the table and causes the impact with the floor to snap it in half – not only will the cactus regrow, you’ll then have to deal with the cactus owner. And if the owner received the cactus from her grandparents some ten years ago and has been growing it without any problems since, you may just wish you were arguing with a cactus at the Chelsea Flower Show. You can never win.

5. Appearances. As anyone who has met Marc can testify, the image of him on the 7 Reasons sofa defies just how big his feet actually are. In other words, appearances can be deceptive. The small, furry looking cacti may look small and furry, but they’re not. They’re like packs of Persil. Small, but mighty. You can never win.

6. Keep Your Friends Close, But Your Enemies Closer. As demonstrated above, some cacti have friends. It is clear what has happened here. Some bright spark has thought about taking a cactus out with their car. (As in they tried to destroy it with their car, not they were taking it for a ride down to the local shops). Big mistake! Suddenly, out of no where, he’s surround by dozens of FOCers (that’s Friends Of Cacti). One sets you on fire and the other uproots said cactus and runs after you determined to turn you into a porcupine. You can never win.

7. Be Cruel To Be Kind. In my experience, arguing with the cactus did little to help me but did an immense amount of good for the cactus. All it needed was for the cactus owner to see me growling at the thing and a small watering-can was thrust into my hand. “If you’re going to stand there all day then you can water it. And when you’ve finished that you can do the others.” See, you can never win.

September 29, 2011
7 Reasons That Having A Baby Can Be Hard On A Man
It’s Saturday. Or, as we call it around these parts, Richard O’Hagan Day. You see Richard, apart from being a fine writer, is on a mission. A mission to become the third permanent member of the 7 Reasons team. He may not have mentioned it out loud, he may not even realise it himself, but given the sheer number of O’Hagan works we have in the 7 Reasons ‘to be published’ vault, his sub-conscious wants it. Badly. Just take a look at these figures that show the origins of submissions and their associated percentages.
- USA – 28%
- UK – 23%
- Australia – 5%
- France – 3%
- Canada – 2%
- Pakistan – 2%
- India – 2%
- South Africa – 1%
- Muppetville – 1%
- Richard O’Hagan – 33%
Exactly. Incredible. And rather disturbing. Which is a shame really because the writer of The Memory Blog isn’t disturbing at all. He’s a great writer with lots of useful advice. Which he will now aptly demonstrate.

Three Men And A Byron

Oh, I know what you’re thinking. It is something along the lines of “He’s a man (allegedly). He knows nothing about how hard it is to have a baby. How DARE he try and offer an opinion on this.”

To which all I can say is, bear with me*, ladies. There’s a point to all of this. I am a father. Marc of this parish has just become father to The Legendary Byron Sebastian Fearns. And Jon has just got engaged, which means that fatherhood is marching towards him with the grim inevitability of a giant spider with a particularly juicy fly snared in its web. There are some serious points which he needs to be aware of, as do any men out there without issue. There’s a big temptation to think that the difficult bit comes around nine months before the birth, but that’s not the case. Once the baby arrives, life is hard for a man.

1. Being a Role Model. You’ve spend the last few decades of your life belching, breaking wind and yelling when you want to. Sorry, but there’s someone else in the house to do that now. Your role is now to be a positive role model for the child, which means an end to coming home bladdered at 3am and trying to make toast using the DVD player, no popping out to the shops and vanishing for three days, and absolutely no supporting Manchester United. (Unless your offspring will be Charlie Sheen’s grandson, in which case you’ve a family tradition to maintain. And even Charlie draws the line at the last thing).

2. Expense. Everyone says that babies are expensive. They’re not. It will be years before they crash your car, or you need to bail them out. People who look after babies, on the other hand, really are expensive. You will find yourself forking out hundreds of pounds a month just so that you can go to work to earn the money to pay the people who look after your child whilst you go to work. It is a cycle more vicious than the one that resulted in a baby in the first place.

3. Pain. Once your female partner has given birth, nothing on this earth is going to convince them that you are enduring any kind of pain whatsoever. The Black Knight in ‘Monty Python & The Holy Grail’ wasn’t brave, he just knew that he was never going to convince his Lady that having all of your limbs lopped off justified reaching for the Aspirin. Being a father means never being able to complain of a hangover again.

4. Language. Whilst we are at it, you might as well brace yourself for the fact that ladies in labour are not always the politest, and that you may be about to learn a few new words. All of them directed at you and several of them anatomically improbable.

5. Empathy. For many years, you and the prospective mother of your prospective child have lived in harmony, anticipating each other’s needs and desires. Having a baby will put an end to all of that. There are two questions that you should never ask a woman in labour, and one of them is “How does it feel?”** You should never ask this question, because you will receive an answer which puts you in the one situation in which you are unequipped to empathise. The answer is “Like the worst period pain ever”***

6. In-Laws. If you produce a baby, your in-laws will visit. Need I say more?

7. Space (Lack Thereof). You might be thinking that the saying that babies might be small but they need a lot of stuff is some sort of urban myth. There are certainly many urban myths about having a baby and you’d be right to disregard them**** but not this one. Work might expand to fill the time available, but nothing beats the rule which says that baby stuff expands to fill the space available. There’s a great temptation to think that you can get around this by moving to a bigger house, but it won’t work. There will still be stuff everywhere. And what is more, you’ll have to work more hours to pay the bigger mortgage, meaning you need more childcare, meaning that you need to work harder to pay for the childcare, and so on until death, really.

On the other hand, children are great fun and the hardship is well worth it. Yes, even the bits where she swears at you.

*I said bear WITH ME, not ‘bear down’. Stop it! Now! Think of the carpets!

**You’re not old enough to know the other one

***There’s actually a question on Facebook which says ‘Which hurts more, having a baby or a kick in the testicles’, which has only been answered by bigots and idiots. And the teenage daughter of a friend of mine, who has experience of neither.

****Disregard any books you might be given, too. The babies can’t read them and so have no idea what to do
May 7, 2011
Russian Roulette Sunday: Help Us Help You

If you are a proper England cricket supporter, you will have no doubt found yourself assisting your country in their times of need. If they need a wicket, there is nothing quite like disappearing from the room for five minutes to make a cup of tea or visit the bathroom or just sit on the stairs. Whenever England take a wicket, it is very rare that the bowler should be congratulated. One of us should. The one who had the gumption to leave the room and go a make a sock drawer. And we have a similar approach to batting. In England’s hour of need, when they really could do without losing another wicket before lunch, it is down to us to make sure they don’t. This is generally accomplished by remaining motionless on the sofa. Or standing on one leg. Or thumping your thigh to the rhythm of Cilla Black’s Anyone Who Had A Heart. If the stumps are demolished, you can be sure it’s because some twat, somewhere made him/herself more comfortable between overs.

Here at 7 Reasons, despite what you may think, we are not infallible. Sometimes, this really is a tough job. Much tougher than working out upon which strip Mitchell Johnson is next going to pitch the ball. This week was a turgid one. In fact, it was as tough a week as we have ever experience. For the majority of it we were completely devoid of inspiration. Hence the fact that on Tuesday Marc wrote about writers block, on Wednesday we had a guest post and on Friday we both advised you not to ride a crocodile. It was only when I was attempting to get England that vital breakthrough on Friday morning by walking around the coffee table backwards, that I realised 7 Reasons could do with some assistance from our supporters. So this post is aimed at all four of you. But don’t think we’re being selfish. This is not a question of you giving up your time just to make 7 Reasons better, you actually get a choice. With that in mind, we have devised six positions we would like you to adopt depending on what you want out of 7 Reasons. All we ask is that you perform one of these positions at around about 8.45am each day. That’s generally the time Marc and I realise there is no way we are going to meet the 9am deadline. We are sure, with your help, we’ll never be devoid of inspiration again. Thank you.

November 28, 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