Tag: Reasons

7 Reasons Rome Clearly Had It In For Me

As an Englishman, when I travel abroad I like to cause as little trouble as possible. Sadly, when I went to Rome, trouble looked for me.

1. Roads. Now, call me a traditionalist, but I like two things from my roads. One: they should be fit for vehicles to manoeuvre up and down, and two: there should be occasional sets of traffic lights where those who have decided to travel upon foot can cross the road safely. While Rome provides both roads and traffic lights, it seems as if someone forgot to tell the drivers to stop when the little green man appears. As a result my holiday was nearly abruptly ended by six cars, two buses, fourteen mopeds and one skater.

2. Maps. I know it sounds like a cliche, but when one sees a free map, they should pick it up. I did just that. And for most of the first day I was able to understand it – we were still in Rome at least. That was until I started walking back to the hotel. The designers, in their Italian wisdom, had decided to mark the main tourist attractions on the map using small, 3D illustrations. And, to be fair to them, they did resemble the real-life draws. Unfortunately, they rarely appeared on the map facing the right direction. Consequently, I spent much of the walk home looking for the steps leading to the Campidoglio on the wrong road. To cut a long story short, we ended up back where we had started an hour earlier and I never held possession of the map again.

3. Wine. It is a well known fact in 7 Reasons circles that I am something of an amateur tea connoisseur. Sadly this is the only liquid based-substance that I have such a relationship with. Wine, for example, is something of an unknown quantity to me. There are three things I know about it. One, it comes in white; two, it comes in red; and, three, it should not be thrown over your girlfriend. Sadly, while Rome offered both white and red varieties, it also offered the opportunity for me to knock a glass over. Which I promptly accepted.

4. Gladiators. They’re an amorous lot. Even the fake ones hanging around the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, the Pantheon. Actually, let’s just call it Rome. They’re everywhere. And they took far too much of a liking to my girlfriend. If they weren’t trying to kiss her they were calling her Princess or offering to slay me. Yes, I know, it’s enough to make one quite nauseous. I mean, it was the type of behaviour I’d expect from the French or Piers Morgan.

5. String Sellers. Standing at the top of the Spanish Steps I was accustomed by two gentlemen, who – without invitation – decided to wrap string around my wrist. I was rather taken with the colours so allowed them to continue. ‘How nice,’ I thought, ‘no one has ever tied my wrists up in England before.’. As the string wound it’s way around my wrist to form a bracelet, I was told to make three wishes. ‘How nice,’ I thought, ‘this chap is certainly more friendly than that genie in a bottle.’. When he had finished, the other nice man decided to open his wallet to show me all the lovely notes inside. Initially I thought I got to choose which denomination of Euro I’d like, but after asking for €20 he became a bit grumpy. For a minute I thought he was asking me for money. Then I realised he actually was. At which point we became embroiled in a bitter stand off. They both wanted money for a bit of string, I wanted the string but not at a price. Sadly this story comes to a hugely anti-climatic end as, instead of letting me enjoy a bit of a fracas with Mussolini and Pinocchio, my girlfriend decided to gallop over and drag me away. At which point Pinocchio got all precious, whipped out his toe-nail clippers and cut the string. In doing so all my wishes were cast aside. Which just goes to show, in Rome you have to pay at least €5 for a yacht, a unlimited supply of tea-bags and a speaking dolphin.

6. Sarah. If I were a woman, and I can’t in all honesty say I have ever considered it as a career option, I suspect Sarah would be a name I would strongly consider. Or at least it would have been had I not been called it dozens upon dozens of times in Rome. On the first night, I assumed I had just done something effeminate with my hair, but, having altered my style every night thereafter, the Sarah-tag just wouldn’t leave. I was beginning to feel uncomfortable. Then I discovered they were actually saying, ‘Sera’. It means, ‘Evening’. I felt silly.

7. Hotel. I chose our hotel, so, upon arrival, I was somewhat relieved to find that I had indeed booked us into somewhere quite nice. There were no tea and coffee facilities, but on the plus side we did get slippers. The hotel carried on being pleasant until our final night when we suddenly noticed dozens of blue flashing lights creeping through the shutters in our room. Upon moving to the window, we opened the shutters to see the street lined with Police. And looking to our left we saw the start of a protest rally. Half an hour later the rally was holding a noisy, sit-down protest. In the road. Right outside our hotel. Like I say though, we did have slippers.

October 25, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: One Year In Numbers!

Wednesday 27th October 2010 marks the first birthday of 7 Reasons. In the past year we have written approximately 2,000 reasons. Which, thinking about it, is 1,993 more than we should have done. We have also had countless guest writers and hundreds upon hundreds of comments. Some good, mostly anti-Jon. All in all, it’s been pretty good. Hopefully year two will be even better. Maybe a book? Maybe a panel show? Maybe we’ll finally appear in Esquire? Who knows. But that’s the future. Today, I want to concentrate on what we’ve achieved.

Right, now that’s done, we can move on. Oh, but before we do, can we just say thank you to everyone who has read 7 Reasons over the last year. And give an even bigger thank you to those who have commented on and/or shared 7 Reasons posts. And then there needs to be an even bigger thank you to all those who have written for us. Saturdays wouldn’t be the same without you. Now let’s hug. Okay, that’s long enough. Someone’s lemon is pressing into my thigh.

October 24, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons You Should Always Ask Who Is On The Other Side Of The Door Before Opening

Another Saturday, another guest post. It’s almost as if it was what Saturdays were made for. Almost. Of course, they’re not. Saturdays were made for sport. But we can’t provide you with that here. So you’re getting a guest post. And today it comes from Sam Murray who, as well as making his debut on the 7 Reasons sofa, also sets a new ‘longest post title’ record. Well done Sam. Right, I’m off. There’s someone at the door. Which is quite a coincidence really considering Sam’s post is written in association with Door Stop, composite door manufacturers who are leading the way in providing U Value doors to the trade and construction industry.

A door in its purest sense is a moveable barrier used to cover an opening. Pretty handy and an invention I am sure we are not surprised to learn has been about since the dawn of time. The door was invented before the coming of any advanced civilization and was used by the earliest primitive people, maybe for some of the reasons below:

1. To Protect Yourself Against Vampires. According to Vampire folklore and mythology before a Vampire can enter your home you have to invite them in. Now I have not come across many vampires in my time but I am pretty sure that this is not because they are polite individuals who like to wait. Take a quick look out of your peep hole and if they look like they haven’t had a holiday for a while be on your guard.

2. To Stop Debt Collectors Erm… Collecting. Debt collectors can’t enter your home unless you invite them in or you leave a door or window open. So unless they also have super powers (or a ladder) you can probably afford to leave top floor windows open to for a frosty reception.

3. For The Sake Of Your Interior Design. It is rumoured that Lawrence Llewelyn Bowen from changing rooms and other Home Improvement shows preys on innocent and naive victims who let him into their home before he rearranges their furniture. Be warned and check before you let people in to your home, especially if they have silly hair and a colourful outfit.

4. To Discourage Squatting. Squatting has suddenly become hot property after news that Harry Hallowes, 71, was given a plot of land that could be worth up to £4 million. Harry has camped on the 60ft x 120ft patch of garden for around 21 years and has been dubbed Britain’s wealthiest vagabond after being given squatters’ rights to the plot in Highgate, North London. Always make sure you check who is on the other side of the door before vacating your property for a week or two or even when popping to the shops for milk.

5. So Your Friend Can Finish His Knock-Knock Joke. Knock-knock jokes are well entrenched in the UK and most of mainland Europe, even South Africa, Philippines and India. So it would be a shame if you didn’t ask who is on the other side of the door when your friend tries to impress you with their latest witty joke. Nobody likes a spoil sport, go on, ask.

6. To Avoid Trick And Treaters. The only form of begging that is acceptable – outsmarting a bunch of children by asking who it is before answering the door will although you to avoid any monetary loss or from cleaning up egg from your windows or doors.

7. Because You Can. Doors were invented and built for the exact purpose of privacy. No one can see you behind it so go ahead and ask, maybe even put on a voice and pretend you’re not in.

October 23, 2010
7 Reasons Hitler Should Have Played Risk (& Six Other Games That Could Have Changed The World)

It is generally accepted that war is bad (although it has given us some amazing films). The American poet, Eve Merriam, once said, ‘I dream of giving birth to a child who will ask, “Mother, what was war?”‘ Given that she died in 1992, I suspect the odds of this happening are long. But it could have been very different. If only certain people had put down the dagger and picked up the dice.

1. Cowboys, Red Indians and Buckaroo. Everything I know about the Wild West I have learnt from historical documentaries staring John Wayne. And one theme is clear. Both the Red Indians and the Cowboys had horses. Another theme is that there was a lot of death. Sadly these documentaries rarely went into why such things were occurring. Half the time it seemed to be women or because they were bored. While one can admire they chivalric values of fighting over a woman, I can’t see the point in shooting someone just because you have nothing better to do. What a waste of a bullet. Or arrow. A much better use of time would have been to have played Buckaroo. Whoever got the saddle, satchel and cowboy hat on the horse without it bucking got a night with the one wearing the yellow ribbon. Or a piece of land. Who cares? There was loads of it.

2. The House Of Lancaster, The House Of York and Happy Families. In many respects the War Of The Roses was a disappointing war in that it featured little more than infighting. A great shame given that had both Houses joined forces they could have concentrated their energies on more pressing engagements. Like invading France. As it was though, both houses decided to fight each other to determine who should hold the throne of England. There was a lot of slapping and stabbing and shooting for thirty years until finally Henry Tudor (House of Lancaster) married Elizabeth of York (House of York), reconciled any differences between the two families and became King. How pathetically politically correct. They could have done that at the start. Or, even better, played Happy Families. Whoever got the most cards, got the throne. Simple. That particular history lesson would have been much shorter too. Which would have been a bonus.

3. The Kingdom Of Great Britain, Those Not Happy With The Kingdom Of Great Britain and Monopoly. In 1775 those occupying the British colonies in North America got a bit fed up with being under British rule. As a result, a year later, they thought they’d declare independence. This riled the Brits and so they had a bit of a war. That, at least, is the abridged version.* The Brits lost. And in the process ended up giving away lots of territory (including far too much to Spain and France). Oh and they also gave away blood. Lots of it. As a result, today we are in the ridiculous position of the United States of America owning all parts of the United States of America. And serving something like 200 coffees to every one tea. This is clearly wrong. Had the Monopoly board been whipped out in 1776 I would like to think we’d have been in the much better position of Great Britain owning at least New York and Boston and quite possibly the gas works too.

4. Napoleon and Battleships. Let’s not mince our words here, Napoleon was a muppet. He was never going to beat the British. He was French and the British were British. In fact, they probably still are. That’s just general knowledge. Unfortunately Napoleon wasn’t a general. He was an Emperor. And just like the Emperor penguin he was short, fat and waddled. That sort of stature was never going to win him the Battle Of Trafalgar. Especially as he saw fit to watch on from afar while he sent Pierre de Villeneuve off to fight Nelson. Pierre lost. If indeed Napoleon was the genius in the operational art of war as many have said, then he would almost certainly have had more chance if he and Nelson had sat down with Battleships. Given that Nelson lacked both a right arm and a right eye, you would have probably made Napoleon favourite for the contest. (Though he would have still lost. He was French).

5. Hitler and Risk. Just like Napoleon, Hitler was short. And just like Napoleon, he had a funny walk. Such mannerisms don’t suit dictators and for those reasons – although not alone – he quite rightly lost the second World War. He was also a twat. Anyway, had Hitler got Churchill, Roosevelt, de Gaulle, Stalin, Mussolini, Hirohito and Antonescu round to his bunker, the whole of World War II could have been decided in one night over one game of Risk. And even if Hitler had cleared up, it wouldn’t have mattered. The others could have shot him. Or tickled him to death. So we may never have heard the immortal words, ‘We shall fight on the beaches…’ but we would have had, ‘What goes on in the bunker, stays in the bunker’.

6. Richard Nixon, Leonid Brezhnev and Chess. The Cold War must be the scariest non-war of all time. Being in Britain in the 80’s and having access to an atlas, I had worked out that I was right in the middle of this conflict. Should the USSR launch a Nuclear missile and the USA counter, the collision was going to happen somewhere over Sussex. Bugger. Although I didn’t think of it at the time (and instead hid under my duvet) I wish Nixon and Brezhnev had played this thing out on a chess board some ten years before. It could have been like Booby Fischer verses Boris Spasky. Though instead of the title of the World Chess Championship at stake, more important things could be decided. Like who got to win the Nuclear Arms race.

7. George Bush, Tony Blair, Saddam Hussein and Pictionary. I suppose there’ll always be something of the Lord Lucan about weapons of mass destruction. Although, admittedly, only one of them existed. Had George, Tony and Saddam all got round a white board one day then I expect G&T could have got the proof they really required. George could have drawn a missile and something that resembled a weapon of mass destruction and Saddam would had had to guess what it was. If he had guessed correctly they’d know he had them. (Obviously you wouldn’t be able to recognise a weapon of mass destruction if you didn’t know what one was). Once G&T had the proof, they could have given Saddam 48 hours to get home and lock the door before they dropped the first bomb. Or, if he didn’t know what it was, everyone could have gone home. Or to Afghanistan.

*If you have stumbled across this page whilst writing your history project, I strongly advise you not to cut and paste.**

**Actually, that applies to all of the above.

October 21, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons to Love Peppa Pig

It’s Saturday once more, and the 7 Reasons team are taking a day off to indulge their respective hobbies of eating tiramisu and…er…not eating tiramisu. Fear not though, for we leave you in capable hands. Strapping himself back into the 7 Reasons sofa, taking a firm grasp of the joystick and doing things that we don’t understand with flaps and ailerons is Richard O’Hagan: By day a mild-mannered lawyer, and by night a fearless writer, warrior, superhero and defender of owls (possibly). Here’s Richard.

I know what you are thinking – why is a grown man extolling the virtues of a TV show for the under-fives? Well, first of all, there’s the fact that it is one of the few kids shows that can be on in the background without raising my blood pressure to boiling point, just by being a steaming pile of old twaddle, such as In The Night Garden. Nor is it a complete rip-off of a fifty year old idea, like Chuggington. In fact, you can watch it as an adult and be far more entertained than you can watching any soap opera. There are many reasons for this, but here are just seven of them:

1. The Car Is Magic. Even better, the car is magic and no-one seems to realise it. Whichever way it is parked, the car is always facing the right way when it is next needed. And the steering wheel changes side according to which way the car is going. It is as if it has ESP. In fact, lots of things in this town have ESP. In another episode there is a campervan with an ESP satnav – you just tell it where you want to go and it takes you there. Adding ESP satnav to the magic car is the only thing that could improve it. It would also reduce the number of times that Daddy Pig gets lost.

2. Daddy Pig. Daddy Pig is some kind of idiot savant. He is guaranteed to be 100% wrong about everything. If you ever wanted to win the Lottery, just ask him to pick 42 numbers and you can guarantee that the winning seven will be the ones he didn’t choose. Similarly, if he claims to be an expert at anything, he won’t be. Curiously, he never claims to be an expert at civil engineering, which is his job – although on reflection this is probably a good thing.

3. Incest. How many other children’s shows deal with this? Yet where Peppa lives, there is only one of each species of animal. Either there is a huge amount of inbreeding or a lot of cross species experimentation (which would at least explain why the elephants are the same size as the cats). The only exception to this rule would seem to be Peppa and her brother George, who have cousins – which leads me to suspect that, despite the accents, the series may be set in Kentucky.

4. Madame Gazelle. Mme Gazelle is possibly the scariest children’s character ever. She is clearly some kind of witch, at the very least. She has taught everyone in the town, even the adults, without aging at all. She can play guitar equally well both right and left handed. She speaks with a Franco-Germanic accent and is, frankly, terrifying. I suspect she has a house with a very large and well-developed cellar.

5. Miss Rabbit. They say that men cannot multitask, but compared to Miss Rabbit no-one can. She sells ice cream, she runs the fire station, she mans the checkout at the supermarket and is in charge of the recycling depot. And that was just on Monday.

6. George Hates Peppa. Despite the facade of a very happy family unit, George actually hates his big sister. Every time he fantasises about something, it involves Peppa being eaten by a dinosaur. Frankly, after your three year old has watched every episode a hundred times, you will be having the same sort of thoughts

7. Serving Suggestion. And, at the end of the day, how many children’s characters tell you how to cook them?

The people behind Peppa Pig went on to make ‘Ben and Holly’s Little Kingdom’, which is rubbish for at least another seven reasons.

October 16, 2010
7 Reasons That Series II of Downton Abbey Will Be Even Better Than Series I

Downton Abbey, ITV’s very enjoyable and successful Sunday evening drama has had a second series commissioned. This is brilliant news as it is the best thing that ITV has produced for ages, possibly even ever. And the great thing is that the second series is going to be even better than the first. Here are seven reasons why.

1. The Writing Will Be Better. Julian Fellowes is a terrific writer and his historical knowledge and nuanced eye make Downton Abbey a brilliant evocation of an Edwardian life of privilege. And, as absolutely everything improves with practice and revision, the writing will be even better in the second series: The first time he wrote Gosford Park, it was Gosford Park, which was quite good. The second time he wrote Gosford Park, it was Downton Abbey, which was very good, and the third time he writes Gosford Park, it will be Downton Abbey: Series 2, which will surely be amazing. If they commission a few more series, Downton Abbey will eventually become the best written thing in the history of television.

2. The Opening. The first series of Downton Abbey opened with the news of the sinking of the Titanic reaching the house. Having the heirs to the house die in the Titanic tragedy was a terrific device which acted as the catalyst for many of the storylines. Series two can repeat this by killing off the current heir to Downton Abbey in the sinking of the Lusitania, and then we can begin the search for an heir all over again. Only this time we might get one with a chin and a personality.

3. The Limp. One of the dominant storylines of series one has been Bates’ limp. The consternation that it has caused has resonated throughout the series with many repercussions for both the house’s residents and staff. The First World War setting of season two will offer far greater scope for the characters to be intolerant of the disabled causing, as it surely will, characters to maim themselves fighting the Bosch from a trench. Perhaps a new downstairs hierarchy will develop based on the amount of available limbs a servant has. It’s like taking the limp storyline and escalating it.

4. Maggie Smith. Redoubtable battleaxe, the Dowager Countess, stole the show when she enquired over dinner, “The weekend? What is a weekend?”. The war will provide far greater scope for lofty and disdainful incomprehension, bringing as it will, a whole new vocabulary of dreadnoughts, zeppelins, trench foot, doughboys, big berthas, whizz-bangs and Kaisers. Though she probably already knows who the Kaiser is, “Rum fellow, typical foreign-type, no notion of how to dress for luncheon and abominable taste in hats.” The moment she exclaims, “A zeppelin has bombed Hull? What is this Hull of which you speak?” will be priceless.

5. Conscription. There’ll be great scope for new and interesting characters because of conscription. And, while the third reserve under-butler’s valet’s second footman is away having his head blown off at the Somme, who knows what could happen back at Gosfor Downton Abbey. Any manner of earth-shattering things could occur. Women may have to take on some of the tasks usually performed by the menfolk. The scope for revolutionary gender-role reassignment is immense. Perhaps they’ll find themselves selecting cufflinks, removing lint from a man’s jacket or winding up a clock. A maid might open the front door! Anarchy.

6. Order. The version of pastoral care the paternal Earl metes out to his wards will be tested to the limit in series two, as the poverty and lack of privation that war brings begins to impinge on life at Downton. How will he dispense justice when the newly widowed ladies-maid’s kitchen-maid’s undermaid is caught pilfering part of a silver cruet set? How will he deal with the theft of three of his grouse by a hungry poacher named Higgins (all poachers are called Higgins, I don’t know why). How will he react to the wooing of a ladies maid by an itinerant muffin man? It’s going to be great.

7. Suitors. Once she’s been forbidden to go into nursing by the Dowager Countess, (“Nursing? A lady tending commoners? The moon will surely implode,”) the eldest daughter will continue her Downton life pretty much unaltered, except with more varied suitors. Instead of being wooed by a succession of avaricious dullards in black tie, she’ll be wooed by a succession of avaricious dullards dressed in khaki. And that will wholly justify paying the licence fee for a colour television. We can’t wait.

October 15, 2010
7 Reasons To Answer The Phone By Saying ‘Goodbye’

There are moments in life, when you wish you had not picked up your phone. And then there are moments when you don’t answer your phone and you wish you had. Thanks to 7 Reasons, that dilemma is now over. Here are 7 Reasons to say ‘Goodbye’ as soon as you pick up that phone.

1. Cold-Callers. Double-glazing, health insurance, wills, bouncy castles, grandmothers. People will try and sell you anything these days. And, no matter how much you try saying it, ‘no’ just doesn’t seem to work. Get in a ‘goodbye’ straight away and while they are baffled by your audacity, hang up.

2. Barclays. I am using Barclays as an example as I have had first-hand experience of their call centres. I am sure, however, you could substitute the company for any other business that has it’s call centre in a foreign clime. Barclays had the foresight to base its call centre in the subcontinent. Which would have been absolutely fine if it had then employed people who could speak English adequately. Unfortunately, they failed in this pursuit. If indeed it ever was a pursuit. I’m sorry, but I simply can not understand what the hell they are talking about half the time. Actually, make that ninety percent of the time. And that is not an environment conducive to conversation. It’s like a Liverpudlian meeting a Geordie in Birmingham. Painful. Given that I am not going to understand them and they are not going to understand me, it’s worth halting the proceedings before they’ve even started.

3. Sanity. Some people – normal people – have a habit of talking to themselves. They can’t help it, it’s just natural. No amount of determination, threat or hypnosis can stop them. Which is where we come in. If you suffer from this narcissistic problem, call yourself. As soon as you answer, say ‘goodbye’. It will be the closure you have been searching for.

4. Tossers. These are the people that just love to have the last word. So, if you get the last word in first, you’ve won.*

5. Reverse. Given that the most important details are spoken about at the beginning of most phone conversations – and they are then forgotten once you have discussed sport/shoes, sport/the next door neighbours and sport/Eastenders – it is surely worth reversing the whole event. Start by saying ‘goodbye’, then talk about sport/rubbish, then the important item and then finish with a cheery ‘Hello’ or another form of salutation.

6. It’s Over. Splitting up with your partner is never a particularly joyous occasion. Even if it means moving on to better things. Finding the right words and a suitable environment to break-up in, is not a straight-forward affair. Sure, the advent of facebook and the relationship status option has made things easier if you are shallow, but what if you’re not? What if you are someone who agonizes over such a situation? Well, the next time they call, it’s time to say ‘goodbye’. And when they phone back, say it again. Repeat until they get the message. (You could also text them).

7. Bargains. Who knows how the person who has just called you will react when you say ‘goodbye’, but if they misunderstand what you are saying they may rattle off a load of ‘good buys’. As a result, you may end up investing in a BMW, a George Foreman Lean Mean Fat Reducing Grilling Machine or a slice of carrot cake. And no one can really complain about that, can they?

*Sometimes I astonish myself with my own genius.

October 14, 2010
7 ‘Other’ Reasons It Would Have Been A Really Bad Day

Hello. I am still in Italy. No doubt frustrating my girlfriend with my inability to show enthusiasm for Spanish steps, fountains, statues, fine food and foreign culture in general. In fact, at this moment, I am no doubt scouting for an English bar to watch the Commonwealth Games.* So while I continue to destroy both Claire-Jon and Anglo-Italian relations, I leave you with a piece I wrote last week. About Polar Bears.

Last week, you may have heard about the explorer who survived being eaten by a polar bear. If you didn’t, you can read about it here. It’s not so much the fact that he survived that surprised me, more the reaction of his friend. Recounting the moment he shot the polar bear dead to save his exploration partner, Ludvig Fjeld said, “I was about 20 or 25 metres from the bear and it had Sebastian in its mouth, I was very worried. I did not want to hit Sebastian as well. That would have been a really bad day for him.”. Yes, imagine that! Being eaten by a polar bear and then being shot. That’s a bad day isn’t it? But then, it could have been worse.

1. Another Polar Bear. So, having been eaten once, saved, then shot, now another polar bear rocks up to see what all the commotion is about. Seeing his polar bear brother lying dead on the ground would have been enough to make him a bit cross. And as Ludvig used all the ammo, nothing is going to stop the polar bear finishing off what his brother started. That’s a bad day. Full of despair, and hope and despair again. A bit like a political party conference.

2. Bills. An expensive bill is enough to deflate anyone. They generally arrive when you least want them, and I would suggest the same day as you’ve been eaten by a polar bear and then shot by your mate, would be very fitting.

3. Tent Theft. Now, don’t get me wrong here, I am not for one minute suggesting the indigenous population has a tent theft habit, I am merely suggesting how the day could have got worse. And, in my desire to find another five reasons, I am going to point towards someone coming along – while the two explorers are out getting eaten and shot at – and nicking the tent. And everything it in.

4. Snap! You’ve been eaten and shot, but you’ve survived. Time to get back to the tent (which for the purpose of this reason hasn’t been nicked). When you get there though, you trip over a guy rope. And break an ankle. Brilliant.

5. Crack! No, that’s not Harrison Ford turning up with his whip – that would quite frankly be ridiculous – instead it’s the sound of the ice breaking beneath the explorers. Eaten by a polar bear, shot by your mate and now adrift in the Arctic Sea on your very own iceberg.

6. No Tea. Okay, so to run out of tea bags would be horrendous planning, but it’s the kind of thing that would just make you realise it’s not your day. And don’t tell me these Scandanavian boys don’t like tea, because I simply won’t believe you.

7. Hot Air. Foot isn’t the only way of exploring, as any Hot Air Balloon explorer will tell you. “Foot isn’t the only way of exploring, I’m a Hot Air Balloon explorer.” See, I told you. Unfortunately, Hot Air Balloons have a habit of crashing. Even when they land properly they seem to crash. And where better to crash than on top of a man who has just been eaten alive and then shot by his pal.

*If anyone knows where such a bar is, please let me know. Seriously, do.

October 13, 2010
7 Reasons My Italian Self-Teaching May Get Me Into Trouble

Hello. I’m on a plane. At least I am if you are reading this at 9am on Monday morning. If you are reading it at 9pm on Monday evening then I bloody well hope I’m not on a plane and if you are reading it in June 2014, well, I couldn’t really care less. I’m assuming, as I write, that it is 9am on Monday morning and I am currently on a plane that is destined for Italy. Yes, I’m going on holiday. I thought you’d be pleased. Over the last week, I have done a little language based learning. And, in what is quite a coincidence, I have been learning Italian. Unfortunately, I am not the best when it comes to languages. Partly because I always sound a bit Indian when speaking with another tongue and partly because I just can’t be bothered with it. Which, I admit, is an abysmal attitude to have, but I will gladly take any applause you are prepared to give me for honesty. As a result of these two factors, the Italians might be in for something of a shock. Here’s why:

1. Accents. My Italian accent isn’t very good. Unless you like Italian accents that sound Indian. I imagine the Italians don’t.

2. What A Mistaka To Maka. I can’t help it. Without a teacher I revert to learning my Italian from Allo! Allo! clips on YouTube. I keep adding the letter ‘a’ onto anything I say. Oh, and I’m speaking English.

3. Roma! Lazio! The only words I can pronounce with any confidence are the names of football clubs or, indeed, names of footballers. I may get away with randomly shouting ‘Cannavaro!’ and ‘Del Piero!’ but I imagine I would not with ‘Totti!’. And, talking about football, Italy are playing Serbia tomorrow night. Along with many people in the 1990s, I watched Football Italia on Channel 4. And, along with many people, I always assumed the phrase uttered at the end of the opening credits – ‘Golaccio!’ – meant…

4. ‘Goal Lazio!!’. That’s what it sounded like after all. You can see it here if you need reminding/have no idea what I’m going on about. Now ‘Golaccio’ may seem like a sensible thing to say if Lazio’s Sergio Floccari finds the back of the net for his national side. But it wouldn’t be. For the simple reason that the word is actually ‘Golazo’. And it’s Spanish. And despite finding this out, I know it’s not going to make any bloody difference. I am still going to shout ‘Golazo!’ if Italy score. Or Spain. Or Serbia. Or England. Because that’s me. And no one would have me any other way.

5. French. The only language I have ever learnt – apart from English and Latin obviously – is French. And, despite years of trying to forget such nonsense, I still seem to remember a fair bit of it. And the reason I know this is because unwelcome words keeps slipping into my otherwise expertly recited Italian phrases, ‘Buon giorno. Parla inglese, s’il vous plaît?’. If someone started asking me a question in English and then slipped in something about frogs-legs, I’d be furious. I would expect the Italians to be similar.

6. Hands. Whether it’s a myth or not, Italian’s are famous for their hand gestures. So I’ve been practising mine too. So far, I have the ‘bang on desk’, the ‘I’ve got the whole world in my hands’ and the ‘bunny shadow’ gestures in my repetoire. And they make very little sense with my Italian/French/Indian speil.

7. Pizza. I spent much of my time in the week before Rome, practising the pronunciation of pizza names using a Pizza Express menu. As a result I am unlikely to be able to eat anything other than pizza for the whole week. While this is not a problem in itself, the fact that I can only pronounce Margherita with any confidence, could be.

October 11, 2010
7 Reasons This Magazine Has Ruined Everything

Somethings in life, you just don’t expect. One such thing was my rejection from the 2011 London Marathon. It’s me, Jon, by the way. Just in case you are my co-writer Marc, and are wondering when the hell you entered the ballot. It’s the fourth time I have entered the ballot and failed. That’s quite unlucky. And for someone who despises failure in all its forms, a horrendous turn of events. I was so sure I was going to get an accepted magazine this year. It was my turn. It was my year. But I didn’t. I got a poxy, ‘Commiserations, your ballot application to run the 2011 Virgin London Marathon has been unsuccessful but there’s still a chance to run…’ magazine. Poxiness. Complete poxiness. And it’s ruined everything.

1. Targets. I work best when I have targets. Something to aim for. A deadline. A tea-break. Dinner. Mainly though, it’s a deadline. When I have a deadline, I know what I have to do. Everything is in front of me. Everything is clear. I can plan, I can re-plan and most of all I get whatever needs to be done, done. The same goes for my running. If I have an event to prepare for, I prepare for it. I have the motivation of a medal – and one of those foil sheets that make me look like a spaceman – awaiting me on the horizon. Without that though, the only thing on the horizon is an old woman waiting for a bus, and between you and me, I can’t be bothered to run all the way over to her. So I don’t. I stay in. And eat a biscuit. And yawn. And scratch. And eat another biscuit. And life sucks. (Apart from the biscuits). So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined motivation.

2. Money. This ‘Commiserations’ magazine is going to cost me a bloody fortune. Which, considering it was free, seems both ironic and calculating. If I had got one of the better ‘Congratulations’ magazines, I would have gone on a health regime. No biscuits; no crisps; no beer; no fun. Quick calculations show that would have saved me at least £15 a week. Multiply that by the twenty-four weeks until the London Marathon actually occurs and we are looking at a minimum of £360. £360! I could have bought 28,800 tea-bags with that! Instead I bought biscuits, crisps and beer. Unbelievable. So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined my tea-based caffeine addiction.

3. Trainer Manufacturers. Nike; Adidas; Reebok; Asics; all other running footwear brands. One of them has lost a sale. Actually, probably two sales. If I had been successful in the tombola, I would certainly have invested in a new pair to carry me the 26.2 miles and a spare pair in case the others got dirty. As I’m not even going to be running 26.2 metres, I am not investing. Which means one the sports good manufacturers is not going to achieve as good a turnover as they may have done and as a result someone will no doubt get sacked. Hopefully a Frenchman. That at least will bring me some comfort. So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined child labour.*

4. April 17th 2011. This is the date of the London Marathon. A marathon I will not be watching. A marathon I will be avoiding. A marathon that will make me frustrated and tetchy for the whole day. In my frustrated and tetchy state, I will probably be looking for trouble. I will probably want to kick something. And that’s bad news for any living thing. Or, if I choose something more sturdy, my foot. Either way, I’d avoid me. So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined next door’s cat.

5. Alternatives. Last year, when I failed to attain ‘congratulatory’ status, I went looking for alternatives. Something else to fill the void that had been left in my life. I found it in the shape of a moustache. Or, more accurately, the shape of Movember. For a whole month, people’s eyes were abused by the sight of a ginger handlebar** adorning my face. And I didn’t enjoy it much either. Due to the London Marathon’s foresight, I may well have to do it again. So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined humanity.

6. The Amazon. Not only have the organisers of the 2011 London Marathon upset me, they have also upset a tree. Well, actually, they’ve gone further than just upset it. They’ve beaten it to a pulp. And it’s not just me they’ve let down. It’s 100,000 others too. And that’s a lot of tree. Now, somewhere, in the middle of the Amazon Rainforest, is a clearing they call, ‘Commiseration Place’. And, somewhere, up in the atmosphere, is much more carbon dioxide than there ever should have been. So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined the planet.

7. Peaks. My sexual peak was ten years ago – though, for many reasons, that seemed to pass me by. My cricket peak was eight years ago – though, for many reasons, that seemed to last little more than a couple of hours. My writing peak was last week – though, for many reasons, it didn’t equate to much when written down. My running peak is now. Right now. In the year that I am 27. But thanks to the London Marathon, I will not be able to utilise it. Instead I will have to wait until a year/two years/five years/ten years after my running peak to take part. And that’s a long time to rent a deep-sea divers’ suit for. So, to sum up, the London Marathon has ruined peaking.

*Thinking about it, this might be a good thing.

** Sounds more impressive than it was.

October 6, 2010