Tag: Prize

7 Reasons I’m Not Going To Win A Nobel Prize Anytime Soon

On Tuesday evening this flyer popped through the letter box. It is fair to say I nearly fell off my half of the 7 Reasons sofa. ‘Entrepreneurs Needed’. Entrepreneurs! That’s me. ‘Groundbreaking Nobel Prize Winning Product’. Groundbreaking! Nobel Prize Winning! Product! They are all me too. Well, not the Nobel Prize bit. Not yet. But it could be me. ‘Call NOW’ Okay! Only I didn’t. I went back to making my spaghetti omelette. But yesterday… yesterday I gave them a call. And this is how it went.

*Now, before you press play I need to tell you something. In this phone call I’m a bit sarcastic. I was expecting this groundbreaking Nobel Prize winning product to be something like a new kind of penis pump or a tulip that sings forty-six national anthems. With a Jamaican dialect. (And, be honest, who wouldn’t like a penis pump with a Jamaican dialect?) Thing thing is though, this product is neither of those. In fact, it’s a very serious product relating to health issues and is inspired by the death of someone’s father. Something I only discovered a couple of minutes into the call. So, while I wouldn’t say what you are about to hear is in any way offensive, you may find my comments and subsequent reasons insensitive. If you think that could be you, my advice would be to just ignore today’s piece and come back tomorrow.*

[soundcloud url=”http://api.soundcloud.com/tracks/20360733″]

Yes, I cut him off. I was bored. But more than that, I was frustrated. Five minutes I’d been on the phone and I still didn’t know what the product was or what I was needed for. And there was something else. A number of things this man said alarmed me. Let’s take it from the top.

1. As Heard From 0:46 – “If you’ve ever wanted to be involved in the early stages of a proven success story that is about to experience dramatic growth throughout the UK (and Europe) please continue to listen.” It’s not the proven success that bothers me here. Or, indeed, the promise of dramatic growth*. It’s the use of Europe. (The continent, not the band. Though the use of ‘Final Countdown’ as a backing track would have been apt). Europe, in this case, is very much an after thought. As if he doesn’t really believe it. And it’s silly. I wouldn’t go around saying I’ve got this great product that is going to be popular in Maidstone and the World would I? Maidstone (at least some parts of it) is already in the World. As the entrepreneur this man is seeking, I am left with severe doubts. I’m suspicious that he was going to try and charm me with the allure of freshly baked croissants. Well sorry pal, but you’ve picked the wrong man.

2. As Heard From 1:30 – “If you are keen to develop a significant residual income…” Hello! He’s played the money card straight away! I’ve watched Dragon’s Den too many times to know that this is too good to be true. Start off with the money card and three things happen. Firstly, the promise of profits are vastly exaggerated. Secondly, the product is abysmal. And thirdly, you start dreaming about Deborah Meaden with a giant gherkin on her head. Oh, my goodness. It’s happening already***.

3. As Heard From 1:47 – “It is estimated that someone has a heart attack every two minutes.” Well what the bloody hell are we doing on the phone then?! Let’s find this person and help them. They must be in all kinds of trouble. I’m sorry, but anyone who wants to chat about Nobel Prize winning products instead of helping those who are suffering is not the business partner for me. Shame.

4. As Heard From 1:50 – “More than 1.4 million people have a gina [pronounced gyna].” Well this is factually incorrect for a start. Without wishing to beat around the bush, I would suggest at least half the population have a gina. Even I used to have one. And understandably so. Gina G was tremendous. Anyway, the point is, I can’t work with someone who doesn’t know their facts.

5. As Heard From 2:21 – “Now, for most of us we need to look no further than in The Mirror…” And you’ve lost me. Right here. Any product that can in any way be traced back to Piers Morgan is a no-go area for me.

6. As Heard From 4:07 – “This discovery [the role of the nitric oxide molecule] was so significant that one of these Nobel Laureates in medicine subsequently wrote a book.” What?! This scientist discovered nitric oxide could prevent heart disease so he wrote a book! What? Why? Why didn’t he get on and get this stuff on the shelf in Boots and Superdrug? The Piers Morgan association lost me, this has just baffled me. Save lives or write a book? Tough decision that.**

7. As Heard From 4:31 – “The President of the American Heart Association, Dr. Fell On Him Pushed Her…” Oh, come on! Dr. Fell On Him Pushed Her?! What a total stitch up this was. And I bet the call wasn’t free either. Gits.

*You can see why I thought it might be a penis pump now.

**This takes nothing away from the fact that you won a Nobel Prize. Well done that man. (Though you are a bit dopey.)

***

August 4, 2011
Win A Prize!

Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed 7 Reasons readers, people of the internet, lovers of SPAM; we have an exciting prize to offer one lucky person.

You may remember a reference from a 7 Reasons post earlier in the week to the giving of the gift of a tin of SPAM. Well, that didn’t go too well. Consequently, we’re now in the position to offer you, the reader, that very self-same tin of SPAM, though now with a slight dent on it.

The Prize (pen, notebook and table not included)

Sadly though, we haven’t had much time to devise a competition – and one of the team also has something of a headache – but we’ve realised something: That 7 Reasons readers are probably creative and resourceful people too. Accordingly, we’re setting you a challenge.

To win this tin of SPAM, which will be dispatched direct from Yorkshire, simply come up with a competition to win a tin of SPAM and send your entry to [email protected]. We’ll judge the entries and the winner will be the person that that has devised – in our opinion – the best competition. You’ve got full licence to be as innovative and creative as you like (in fact, we positively encourage it). Feel free to send illustrations too, if you feel they will enhance your presentation. We’ll announce the lucky winner next Sunday. We might even use the winning competition in the future.

So get your thinking caps on as fame, fortune and a tin of SPAM await you. Oh, and enjoy the rest of your weekend. See you tomorrow.

July 10, 2011
7 Reasons Ireland Didn’t Beat England At Cricket Yesterday
If you’re a cricket lover, or if you’re following the Cricket World Cup (which isn’t really cricket) and you’re English, you might be happily going about your March 2^nd business right now vaguely aware that you seem to have had some sort of strange and improbable nightmare last night. And you’re right. It is still Wednesday and you’ve had a bit of a funny dream. I know I have. Here are seven reasons why.

This didn't happen. You dreamt this.

1.  It’s Too Conflicting. The English, as popular opinion would have it, love an underdog. And it’s true, we do. There’s nothing that the English like to do more than cheer on plucky minnows. We love to see Italy do well in the Six Nations; we love to see Scotland do well at football; we love to see Malta do well at absolutely bloody everything and, had Ireland been playing any other nation yesterday (except Malta), we would have been cheering them on with cries of “Play up, Ireland” and “Hurrah for the Patricks”. But they weren’t playing anyone else. They were playing us. And we were the overdog. This was somewhat conflicting. Because it was nice to see the plucky Irish do well during the cricket, it was heart-warming even, and to someone who fancies that he has some modicum of appreciation for the game, it was enjoyable. But then it slowly began to look like they might actually beat us and suddenly the thin veneer of being a fair-minded Englishman that appreciates a fine performance (even by an opponent) began to dissipate and I realised that I wasn’t quite the sporting chap I imagine myself to be. I discovered that I am, in fact, the sort of Englishman who would happily don a pith helmet and mow down colonials with a Gatling gun if it meant a victory in war or sport for dear old Blighty. No one needs to find that out about themselves when they’re trying to enjoy the cricket. I started the match as a good, upright, moral chap and finished it as a cruel, bloodthirsty, avaricious monster. Albeit one with a nice hat. But this can’t really have happened, because I’m certain that, at heart, I’m a thoroughly nice chap.

2.  The Irish Don’t Even Play Cricket. I know about Irish sport; I’ve seen it. There are essentially three major sports there. They play football, like we do, but with muddier pitches. They play rugby, like we do, but with muddier pitches. And they play Gaelic-bloody-hurleyball-thing – a sport I once saw on Channel Four at three o’clock one morning in 1997 – which is essentially a mass-brawl in the mud which may or may not have sticks and a ball. And a net.   None of those things even remotely resemble cricket, which is a game played in England, where children are given bats, balls and club ties at birth and spend almost every minute of every childhood summer – except when they are reluctantly dragged away to a tartan picnic blanket and force-fed cucumber sandwiches, orange squash and those Mr Kipling cakes that resemble gaudily coloured plasticine and make your teeth hurt – playing the game of cricket. And then when we grow up many of us carry on doing exactly the same thing, but with Pimm’s instead of the squash and if we’re very lucky, picnic sex. Though the infernal sodding cakes are still there. We have cricket, if not in our blood, then certainly in our souls and in our psyche, it’s a part of our national identity. We are prepared to play cricket from birth, it shouldn’t be possible to just to turn up with a horse and beat us at it. Which is good, because it didn’t happen.

3.  There Was A Horse. I’m not going to knock Kevin O’Brien’s knock*. What he did yesterday was superb. He went out to bat and did what every young boy (and grown man and woman and just about everyone who’s ever had any sporting ambition/interest/has even seen a blade of grass) has ever dreamed of doing: He took a game by the scruff of the neck and improbably – almost impossibly – won it single-handedly, against the odds. It was amazing. He was magnificent. Unlike Irish people, however, I have seen Kevin O’Brien play before, and I know this. He’s essentially a lumbering big, ginger horse in a cricket uniform. Of course he’s going to be able to slog the ball around on a flat pitch, he could probably hit balls to the moon. What we needed to counteract him was a backfiring car. They always put horses off what they’re doing, I’ve seen black and white films and read Edwardian novels, and I know of what I speak. It’s just not possible that England’s enormous – and legendarily meticulous – backroom staff consisting of hordes of people with laptops that studied P.E. at university didn’t consider this tactic, not possible at all. As the saying goes: If you fail to prepare, you prepare to get spanked around the ground by a big ginger man-horse. And that’s what happened…er…didn’t happen.

4.  It Isn’t Mathematically Possible. The Ireland cricket team represents both Northern Ireland and the Republic of Ireland. So England were playing two countries out there yesterday, and you might think that would put England (us) at a disadvantage but wait! The acronym ECB is short for The England and Wales (and some South Africans) Cricket Board, so Irelands two nations were in fact playing our three nations, all of whom are individually better at cricket than them. It’s not mathematically possible that they should have won, or geographically or historically. It’s just not possible at all, so it can’t have happened.

5.  Available Talent. That Ireland don’t have any sort of cricketing pedigree is self-evident. But that’s not to say that Ireland is completely lacking any cricketing talent. That would be crass and simplistic. Because there is Irish cricketing talent out there. For there is a man born in Dublin who would get into just about any one day cricket team in the world; a man who won three senior cup titles for Catholic University School; a man who has a ODI batting average of 38.03; a man whose batting shimmers with inventiveness and audacity; a man whose bold stroke-play and natural ease with a bat is admired the world over. And that Irishman’s name is Eoin Morgan and he plays for fecking England!!!! Their best player doesn’t even play for them! He plays for us, so they can’t have won at all.

6.  The Reaction. Do you know what the reaction in England to the Irish victory was last night? From people that don’t follow cricket as closely as you or I, people with children and lives and things, people that the news was only slowly filtering to by yesterday evening? The ones that I spoke to all reacted in exactly the same way with the same question. They asked, “Do the Irish even have a cricket team?” Every last one of them asked this. And in Ireland, I have no doubt that they were all asking, “Do we even have a cricket team?” I had to explain this defeat to a Frenchman last night – A MAN FROM FRANCE – and do you know what his first question was? I’ll tell you. It was, “Do ze Irish even ‘ave a cricket team?”   I can’t begin to tell you how painful this conversation was. It was several minutes before I was able to turn the conversation to the efficacy of the Maginot Line. Several long minutes. Anyway, the upshot of all this is that we were playing a team yesterday that doesn’t exist. And they beat us.

7.  It’s So Weird I Can Only Have Dreamt It. I won’t bore you with all of the details, but it’s fair to say that yesterday was a fairly strange day for me. Here are just some of the things that actually happened to me:
- I purchased Vaseline for my cat.
- I discussed the Ashes with a Frenchman.
- I witnessed a man request “A pint of the lager you have that’s most like Stella” at a bar.
- An Irish team that doesn’t exist beat England at Cricket with an orange horse.
So there you go. All of the available evidence is there and it points to only one thing: That yesterday was a really weird dream that didn’t actually happen. Any moment now I’m going to wake up and it’ll be March 2^nd again and at some point later on today I’m going to listen to England thump Ireland at cricket. It’s going to be great. I can’t wait.

*That’s the first knock-knock joke we’ve ever done at 7 Reasons.**

**The second one will be better.
March 3, 2011
And The Winner Is…

Hello! Marc here. It’s Sunday, and now that much of the sport has been watched, it’s time for me to sit down and sift through the entries for the awesome competition that we set last week. We felt sure that the competition – and the brilliant prize – would inspire many of our readers to wit and brilliance and well, here’s the top three entries (out of three).

In third place, with this entry is Chrissy Aram with:

I, a reader of the wonderful website 7 Reasons (.org), would like to win France because I could live next door to my brother.

Now, I’m not entirely sure what to make of this. Chrissy lives in England – which is already next door to France – so, unless her brother lives in Belgium, Luxembourg, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Monaco, Andorra or Spain, this won’t work. Plus there’s no cricket in France, she wouldn’t like that, and cricket is far better than brothers, as my sister will happily confirm.

In second place is Rachel Simmonite’s entry:

I, a reader of the wonderful website 7 Reasons (.org), would like to win France because it would be the ideal place to put my shoes, and it would be a good bargaining tool to help me take over Britain, then after that THE WORLD.

Now, if I had feet half the size of Central Europe, I’d want somewhere to put my shoes too. This is an entirely laudatory use of France. Where Rachel’s entry falls down is the suggested use of the occupation of France to take over Britain, and then the world. Or THE WORLD, as she shouted. This has already been tried – by a monobollocular chap with a funny moustache – and it doesn’t work. I appreciate that her plan differs somewhat to that of Herr Hitler, in that she intends to use France as a bargaining tool, rather than as a picturesque military base, but how would that work? Would she issue threats? “Give me the Isle of Wight or I’ll blow up Dieppe!” I can already hear the massed voice of 60 million Britons saying, “Okay, blow up Dieppe then. Whatever.” “Give me the Queen or Nicolas Sarkozy gets it!” “Bahahahahahha!” The plan is fundamentally flawed. Rachel is clearly the Wile. E. Coyote of the Win France competition.

Winging its way in from Greece (where the exchange rate is 2.5 Greek words to 1 English word) is the final entry that we received – which is also our winner – by Ασπασία Ματθαίου (easy for her to say):

I, a reader of the wonderful website 7 Reasons (.org), would like to win France because I would be able to stop that awful film overdubbing business which is just wrong. Viewers should be allowed to enjoy actor’s real voices in the way that they actually speak them. Why would anyone want to listen to Orson Welles speak in a silly French tone? I know I wouldn’t. (Individuals formerly employed in dubbing would have to find a new job, in the field of foreign film criticism. Their criticism would have to be written in the language of the film in question. At least 5000 words of it. I think that’s fair.)

Then I would pass a law whereby all taxi drivers in the area of the land formerly known as France would speak Greek. That would serve them right. And then everyone would be made to count and spell numbers correctly, in every known language in the world. Finally, that same law would clearly state to all taxi drivers that they would have to drive me to and from airports for free, eternally. (Hehehe. That would be great.)

French politics and sport I would make sure remain the same for ever more. (Yes!)

Just a final thought. If my entry wins the competition I might just hand France to Jon. I think he will appreciate the prize better.

So there you have it. In a totally unexpected outcome to our competition, France has been won and her new owner, as a result of Ασπασία’s generosity, is my writing partner, Jonathan Lee. I’d like to thank everyone that entered and, now that France is under new management, I’d like to wish her citizens good luck. They’ll need it. And Jon, you may now sally forth across the channel and claim France*. Though please get your posts for the week out of the way first, I’ve rather a lot on.

*Remember to put an English-Greek dictionary into your suitcase of baked beans and ginger nuts in case you need to use a taxi. Oh, and it’s thé au lait you want. The other brown stuff is something called coffee that you won’t like.

February 27, 2011
It’s Competition Time!

We realised something recently: We’ve never had a competition before. Ever (or at least as far as we can remember). It was quite a momentous moment in the 7 Reasons offices when this occurred to us; Jon almost missed his mouth with a biscuit and Marc looked up from his book about the war and blinked, before returning to it.

Now, bearing in mind that the last time the 7 Reasons team funds were audited they stood at half a dead spider, a creased Post-it® note, the crumbs from several ginger nut biscuits, twelve business cards, a mug with a broken handle and a lemon, we weren’t expecting to have too much money to spend on a competition, but we had another check anyway and the good news is that we still have the lemon.

“We can’t offer people a lemon”, said Marc, without looking up from his book, “You never know when we might need it. In World War II, they used to use them to sanitise cups and utensils. They also found them indispensable for…”

Jon knew when not to interrupt Marc. And now wasn’t that time, “OKAY!” he blurted, with such a ferocity that he surprised himself, “We won’t give the bloody lemon away! Just in case Hitler comes back from beyond the grave, as mad as hell, and with some sort of new vendetta against humourists, the number seven and cutlery! Because that sounds entirely plausible! We’d also better hang on to any powdered egg that we might chance upon too, and our nylons!”

“Okay”, said Marc dreamily from behind his book, entirely satisfied that mentioning the war had got him out of devising a competition.

“So the prize has got to be something cheap, or even better, free”, said Jon, failing to recognise that Marc had already decided that the task was now solely in his hands.

What the hell’s going on? He’s still talking to me. Usually he’s taken the hint by now. Right, I’m going to have to refer to the war again, thought Marc. “The Free French?” suggested Marc, “In World War II they…”

“Yes! That’s it!” exclaimed Jon.

“What!?”

“That’s perfect.”

He didn’t know what was perfect, and frankly, he didn’t care. Mumbling, “Very good then. Do carry on,” Marc turned a page and settled further back into his side of the sofa, while Jon set to work putting together his brilliantly conceived and very cheap to run competition. And here it is.

The 7 Reasons Competition

My Lords, Ladies, gentlemen, and readers of 7 Reasons (including Kindlers). The 7 Reasons team – in conjunction with the internet – wish to announce a competition. We’re both proud and delighted to offer you, our loyal readership, a big prize, possibly the biggest prize that’s ever been given away in a competition. We’re offering one lucky reader the opportunity to win France! That’s right, France!

Win France!

We’ve thought about it and it seems to us that, since they divested themselves of their monarchy in the eighteenth century, no one has actually owned France. And it’s just there, across the sea, waiting for our lucky winner to claim it. All of this can be yours.

Food.

More Food.

The Eiffel Tower.

To win France, simply complete the following sentence in a hundred words or less:

I, a reader of the wonderful website 7 Reasons (.org), would like to win France because…

Send your entries to [email protected] with “I Want France” in the subject box. The competition closes on 26-02-2011. The winner will be chosen by the 7 Reasons team (assuming they’re not reading about the war or eating biscuits) and will be announced next Sunday. We’ll also be putting the best entries on the website, with a free link to your twitter account/website/anything you’re looking to plug.

We’re really looking forward to reading your entries and would like to wish all of our entrants bon chance. And good luck.

February 20, 2011
7 Reasons Not to Watch The Cricket World Cup

It’s Friday the 18th of February, 2011, and after all the build-up and anticipation, the Cricket World Cup starts today. As you can probably imagine, we’re very excited about that here at 7 Reasons and…well, you will have to imagine that, because we’re not. Here are 7 Reasons not to watch the bloody thing.

1. Australia. It’s not so much how good Australia are – they aren’t – it’s more whether anyone can be bothered to beat them. In 1999, South Africa should have beaten them in the semi-final, but Lance Klusener lost the plot and with it the match. And as for the final, well Pakistan didn’t turn up for it and were comprehensively thumped. In 2003, England should have beaten them in the final group game, but decided to let Andy Bichel have his one and only great day in an Aussie shirt and in doing so managed to lose from an impossible position. And as for the final, well India did turn up, but only to watch Sourav Ganguly toss the coin. After that they were comprehensively thumped. In 2007, well, only Australia turned up. They comprehensively thumped everyone. Which leads us to today. Or tomorrow. The 2011 World Cup promises to be the best yet. I reckon you could make strong arguments for six teams winning it. But that would be futile wouldn’t it? Because the script has long been written. Thumpings of the most comprehensive kind shall soon be scattered across the sub-continent. What’s the point in watching that?

2. Length. Now we love our cricket, but this thing goes on for a month and a half. Just imagine what you could get done in a month and a half if you weren’t watching the cricket. You could fly around the world 40 times. You could cook everything in Delia’s Complete Cookery Course. Twice. You could solve the international sudoku problem. You could build a tree house, dismantle it and build it again. You could even write us a guest post. By not watching the cricket World Cup you could achieve so much. The World Cup is your oyster.

3. Timing. I’m in England and the Cricket World Cup is not. It’s taking place far away, over the sea. But I’ve looked at the fixture list and, apart from the odd game that starts at 4am, the times of the matches actually seem reasonable. For the most part, they seem to be occurring during working hours. During working hours!? What’s the bloody point in that? Where’s my epic struggle to stay awake during matches? Where’s my opportunity to complain, bleary-eyed, the day after an important match, to all and sundry that the World Cup is going to kill me? You know how to spot a fellow cricket aficionado while England are on tour? You’ll hear them yawning and/or snoring and find them slumped on their desks/a bus seat/your left shoulder of an afternoon. Now, throughout the tournament, confused England fans will spend their time mistakenly bothering the exhausted parents of new-born children to discuss the batting of Kevin Pietersen, the bowling of Graeme Swann or the point of Billy Bowden. That’s no fun for anyone. Especially for cricket fans who’ll end up learning all sorts of nonsense about nappies and breast-pumps that they’d really rather not hear about. If watching cricket isn’t a challenge, it’s just not as good.

4. It’s Just Not Cricket. Is the ball red? No. Are the kits tasteful and pleasing to the eye? No. Are some of the spectators grey, dusty and possibly suffering from rigor mortis? No. Can each match last for an entire working week? No. Are England any good at it? No. In that case, it isn’t cricket at all; it’s merely baseball for the civilised.

5. National Anthems. I do love a good rendition of ‘God Save The Queen’. But only if it’s at Twickenham or I’m in the shower. Only in these environments do people actually appear as if they want to sing. Anthems just don’t seem to work at cricket. I feel a bit awkward watching them. It’s a bit like chapel at school. No one really wants to be there. The problem is that when the anthems are over, half the players go back to the changing rooms to play cards while the rest hang around for ten minutes until the Umpires check to see if the light is okay. By which time the parts of you that were pumped up are now deflated. And that’s when Straussy loses his off-stump. So, unless we are sadists we should not be watching.

6. Because You Support England. And by “you support England”, what I mean is that I support England; the surest route to heartbreak and despair in all of international sport (outside of betting on Audley Harrison or being Jermaine Jenas). I was pushing my luck by watching the Ashes, so watching the Cricket World Cup can only lead to disillusionment and despondency. Much better to avoid it and stick to watching films about the war. Not the second Anglo-Dutch War, obviously, that would be equally depressing.

The 2011 World Cup Cricket trophy pictured on Horsell Common.

7. It’s Misleading. It’s called the World Cup. But I’ve seen the trophy and it doesn’t resemble a cup in the least. It looks like a Martian tripod from H.G. Wells’ War of the Worlds standing in the classical ballet stance, en pointe. Can you drink tea from it? No. Can it perform a quick pas de bourrée before killing you with its heat-ray? Undoubtedly. So it’s not the Cricket World Cup at all. It’s the Cricket World Martian Ballet Tripod. If they’d called it that, more people would be watching. And if they had a few of those at the stadia, I would watch.

February 18, 2011
7 Reasons You Need To Improve Your Scamming Technique

I never once felt sorry for Bernadette. I probably should have done. After all, her Dad had just died in a plane crash leaving Bernadette to live with her evil mother. A mother she then ran away from and found safety in a run down orphanage. An orphanage without running water, electricity and warm bedding. In fact the only thing that kept the likes of Bernadette going was the super-fast BT Broadband connection. The truth is though, I didn’t care about any of this. I was much more interested in the money. Bernadette was offering me a lot of it. Millions of pounds worth. That was a lot of tea bags. Which is why I gave her my bank details. That was two years ago. He’s still borrowing my money now. That’s right, ‘he’. Bernadette turned out to be a bloke called Alfonso. I am now partly responsible for Nigeria’s heroin addiction and at least thirty-five murders. The only way I can get out of this mess is by winning the lottery. That way I can pay Alfonso the £1 Million he is now demanding and I get to keep my fingers. No wonder I got very excited the other day when this email arrived in the 7Reasons inbox:

Your Email ID won!
EuroMillion Lottery Intl. Program
FOREIGN SERVICE SECTION BARCELONA.
REFERENCE NUMBER: SOXW/HAWIR
BATCH NUMBER: 2011/149 /BMQ

OFFICIAL WINNING NOTIFICATION.

We are pleased to inform you of the released results of the EuroMillions Corporations Sweepstakes Promotion in conjunction with foundations for the promotion of software products organized for Software users.

This Program was held on 16th February , 2011, in Barcelona- Spain. Wherein your email address emerged as one of the online Winning emails in the 1st category and therefore attracted a cash award of EUR1,500,000.00 (One Million Five Hundred Thousand Euros) and an Apple laptop. Your laptop, certificate of winnings and your cheque of (EUR1 500,000.00 Euros) will be sent to your contact address in your location.

Please take note, lucky winners will pay for their courier services delivery. EuroMillions corporations only provides lucky winners with a laptop and the sum of (EUR1 500,000.00 Euros) only. To file for claims of the release of your winnings, Contact the Customer Service Officer with the information below:

1.FULL NAMES:
2.ADDRESS:
3.SEX:
4.AGE:
5.MARITAL STATUS:
6.OCCUPATION:
7.TELEPHONE NUMBER:
8.COUNTRY
9)BATCH NUMBER
10) REFERENCE NUMBER

Email: [email protected]
Tel: +34 634 105 921
Contact Person: Manuel Borreria [CSO]

This Email Lottery is sponsored by Software development firms a Software Engineering Resource Consortium Companies. This internet E-mail draw is held periodically and is organized to encourage the use of the Internet products and promote computer literacy worldwide.

Congratulations!!

Sincerely,
Mrs. Eva Lopez
Online Coordinator

For thirty seconds I got very excited and flexed my fingers in delight. But then I read it again and I realised a few things. This email was a scam! A scam! And it was so easy to spot. Here’s why the scammers drastically need to improve their technique:

1. The Prize. I have won €1,500,000 and an Apple laptop. Obviously Mrs Eva Lopez is trying to stand out from the crowd here. She is trying to differentiate herself from her rivals by offering an incentive to claim the €1,500,000. In an already saturated market place it is a nice idea, but she lets herself down on the terminology. There is no such thing as an Apple laptop. It’s called a MacBook or a MacBook Pro. An understandable, but ultimately telling mistake.

2. The Address. Barcelona. That is far too nice a place to have your winnings sent from. Look at the base of any cereal packet and I guarantee you that the address you have to write to claim your prize is an industrial estate in Uckfield, East Sussex. That’s the way these things work. The scammers have failed by trying to be too exotic.

3. The Reference Number. SOXW/HAWIR. I’m not falling for that. This has quite clearly been copied from Mrs Eva Lopez’s to-do list, ‘Sort Out Xanthium Watering/Help A Witch In Rio’. It’s nothing short of laziness.

4. Courier Services. That’s right, I – the winner may I remind you – has to pay to get the money from somewhere in Barcelona to my lounge. This would never happen in the Lotto. If you win the Lotto Myleene Klass knocks on your door with a massive novelty sized cheque, a bottle of cheap fizz and a camera crew. It might be tacky, but it’s genuine.

5. Personal. The details they request are really rather prying. Take the third request for example, ‘sex’. What do I put here? ‘If I’ve been a good boy I earn the right to have a discussion about the possibility at a later date’? This is private information that should not be shared with anyone else. And quite frankly I don’t think my sexual prowess should stand in the way of €1,500,000. It never has before so why should Lopez think differently?

6. The Aim. As you will note from the bottom of this email, the mission behind the E-Mail Lottery is to promote computer literacy. While this is to be applauded surely Lopez would be better off sending the email to someone who doesn’t really know about computers and thus more susceptible to falling victim to scam emails. That way they may actually try and claim their winnings. Obvious really.

7. Repetition. I had the same email last November. Only a scammer would think that because they caught me out once they can do it again. Idiots.

February 17, 2011
7 Reasons To Become An Artist

1. Name. You can change it. To anything you like. Banksy. Hotelsy. Police Stationsy. No one cares. They just think you are cool and will queue up for hours to see your latest graffiti on the toilet wall.

2. It’s A Con. You can do anything and call it art. Take Tracey Emin for instance. No, actually don’t bother. No one is quite sure where she has been. Instead take a look above. That’s Emin’s artwork. My Bed it’s called. The Saatchi Gallery describe it thus, ‘Tracey Emin shows us her own bed, in all its embarrassing glory. Empty booze bottles, fag butts, stained sheets, worn panties: the bloody aftermath of a nervous breakdown. By presenting her bed as art, Tracey Emin shares her most personal space, revealing she’s as insecure and imperfect as the rest of the world‘. This is how Jonathan Lee describes it, ‘Bollocks‘.

3. Entrepreneurship. We’re in a recession here in the UK. You aren’t going to find a job. So become an artist. All you have to do is pop down to the scrap heap and pick up a bit of metal. Whack it with a hammer a few times and suddenly you have something you can call ‘The Distressed Pigeon’. Then go on Dragon’s Den and wink at James Cann a few times. You’ll be a millionaire before you can say, ‘Gordon Brown won the election! What the…’

4. Nudes. Apparently you get to paint nudes if you are an artist. The only reason I know this is because I occasionally walk back from Hammersmith past an art school. Look through the window and all you can see are naked people covered in paint. Someone out there is making a killing on the sale of White Spirit.

5. Van Cough. Not to be mistaken with Van Gogh. Well, actually, yes he is. Rory Bremner makes a fortune spoofing Blair and Brown and the like, so why not become the first art spoofer? A spoofer is very different to a forger. You can get arrested for forging art. For spoofing it you could probably earn £1.56 a week by showcasing your work on a website. You just have to make the Sunflowers look ironic or something. You’ll be a cult leader in no time.

6. Vive la France. You may be French or you may just own a beret. Whichever it is, it is illegal to own a beret and not be an artist. If you are caught wearing a beret while not working in the arts, you will be sacked and forced to sell onions from tights.

7. Drugs. Now I am not advocating taking anything illegal here, I am really addressing those already addicted. There is no doubt that being high improves your creative output. Just look at The Beatles or Brian Wilson or Silvio Berlusconi. Though thinking about it, I guess the only reason Berlusconi got high was viagra. So ignore that example. Viagra doesn’t count. I’m taking about proper Class A drugs. If you are on something, as by the law of averages at least one of our readers surely must be, then maybe think about paying for your habit by drawing what you see in the twilight zone? It’s not like anyone is going to try and find out if you are portraying the truth or not, is it?

November 30, 2009