Tag: Reasons

7 Reasons England Will Beat Ze Germans

1. Ze German Edlines. The German hacks are primed to write such classics as So Klose, But So Far. Although obviously they’ll write it in German. So it’ll be something like Zo Klose, But Zo Var. Basically, Miroslav Klose is going to take a shot from 50-yards which ricochets off the crossbar, flies up the other end of the pitch and finds the net. Net result England 1-0 Germany. German hacks have their headlines.

2. Ze Tactics. I am sure you have been wondering why Capello continues to play Gerrard on the left. It took me a while to work it out too. But finally I have. It’s all about balance. And ultimately making the opposition cock-up. Glen Johnson can’t defend for toffee (which is annoying because he loves the stuff). Anyway, the opposition think they should try and take advantage of this and attack down the left flank. However, because Gerrard tends to move away from his position on the left, the opposition see the gap on the right flank and wonder whether they should attack on that side. All this confusion results in them trying to compromise. And compromising means attacking straight down the middle. Right into Barry, Terry and Upson. It’s classic mind game stuff and the reason Capello is the genius that he is.

3. Ze Names. The Germans are named after lagers. A pint of Mertesacker. A pint of Schweinsteiger. A pint of Trochowski. The English are named after musicians. (David) James and (Gareth) Barry White. Oh, and there’s (John) Terry’s Chocolate Orange. You’re going to perform so much better if you listen to James and Barry White while munching on one of Terry’s Chocolate Oranges pre-game, than if you are downing three pints of lager.

4. Ze Beckenbauer. Franz said we have reverted to ‘kick and rush’ in this World Cup. How dare he! We don’t rush. We hang back and hope. Karma is a bitch and Beckenbauer will be summoned by Angela Merkel to explain why he gave the English such a great pep talk.

5. Ze 27 June. It’s Sieben Schlagfertig in Germany. Which is a day basically celebrated by muppets. If it rains on this day, it will apparently rain for the next seven weeks. I like the idea of raining on Germany’s parade and then continuously beating the Germans for seven weeks.

6. Ze Missing Of Ze Goals. Gerrard’s goal against the USA was missed by many because ITV decided to show an advert. Defoe’s goal against Slovenia was missed by many because the work experience boy at EDF Energy pressed the off button. England didn’t score against Algeria because everyone was watching. The simple conclusion to make is that I need to buy 10 million extension leads and forty million kettles. If I do that and press the on switch at 2:59pm on Sunday, I reckon I might just be able to blow a fuse somewhere on the National Grid and cause absolute chaos. We’ll all miss the game, but England will win 4-0. Don’t thank me, thank the nice people at Argos who are about to get a very big order.

7. Ze Zeven Reasons. I have drafts of 7 Reasons England Will Beat Argentina, 7 Reasons England Will Beat Portugal and 7 Reasons Why It’s Second Time Lucky For England And They Will Beat The USA ready to go. You can’t buy this kind of motivation. The England boys want to read my work. They are in a win-to-read position now. Which is so much more impressive than a boring win-t0-be-MBEs position.

June 24, 2010
7 Reasons John McEnroe Can Not Be Serious (About His Hair)

With the opening credits of BBC’s 2010 Wimbledon coverage came joy, happiness, extortionately priced strawberries and the horror of John McEnroe’s new hair. I say new hair, it’s probably quite old hair, but it does look different. And not for the better. Here are 7 Reasons – in a nicely packaged video format (just to show I can’t be outdone) – that explain why Mr John McEnroe should not have been tempted to rid the old look.

7 Reasons John McEnroe Can Not Be Serious (About His Hair)

June 23, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Shop At Ikea

Another Saturday comes by and with it another chance for Marc and I to get up from the sofa and stretch our legs. I am stretching them quite far today. From Fulham to some place in Kent. I’m moving you understand. But that’s enough about me, let’s focus on the issue in hand. Today’s 7 Reasons piece comes from regular 7 Reasons contributor, Simon Best. Who, when he’s not writing for us – or shopping in Ikea – can be found writing on twitter. He also does some other things that no one quite understands.

1. Names. Everything they sell at Ikea from the largest kitchen unit to the smallest tealight has a name, the vast majority with a Scandinavian touch, some with more imagination than others: the ‘Dimma’ lamp, the ‘Pyra’ wok, the ‘Slitbar’ knife. I doubt that ‘Slitbar’ is actually the Swedish for knife but it is not beyond the realms of possibility. The names are also the answer to parents who don’t want to name their offspring Apple or Chardonnay – Knubbig, Gnistra and Ivar offer perfect alternatives – it’s only fair after Ikea stole the name ‘Billy’ for their best selling item – it is now more widely associated with a bookcase than a boy.

2. Showrooms. Much of the space in Ikea is taken up with showrooms displaying Ikea furniture in various combinations: kitchens, bedrooms, offices, living rooms. They’re often given a lived in look which reassures you that it is not just you that left your bed unmade and a pile of washing up in the sink. They also show you how the furniture you buy will never look in your house, after all if they lose bolt E or joint B then there is a shop full of them, then there is a shop full of them.

3. Pencils. Everywhere you look in Ikea there are little wooden pencils. They’re handy for writing down measurements or noting down the location of things you want to buy. They’re also perfect for sticking behind your ear which is essential for making you look as if you are competent at DIY. The reality is that most men walking round Ikea with a pencil behind their ear are there because their wives have sent them out of the house while a professional comes round to fix the damage that they did the previous weekend with their drill. The preponderance of pencils in Ikea is mirrored by one in my house. I don’t buy pencils any more, I just go to Ikea, stick one behind each ear and forget they are there until I get home.

4. Lack of piped music. One of the things I hate about going shopping is the musak that pervades high street stores and shopping malls. When I go to the supermarket I don’t want to listen to THIS [http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oofSnsGkops] I want to listen to Test Match Special so that I can hear England slump from a respectable 70 for none (by the cheese counter) to a disastrous 104 for 5 (while I’m deciding whether to buy Braeburns or Granny Smiths). Ikea has no music, which is a relief because I don’t think the world could cope with a cover of Waterloo or Super-Trouper played on Guatemalan panpipes.

5. A masterclass in bad parenting. Most of the people shopping in Ikea are families. People go at the weekend and take their children. Now Ikea stores are big but they’re not a park or an adventure playground.Children spend most of their week in pre-fab buildings with bright furniture and at the weekend they should be outside playing football or building treehouses or riding their choppers (oh, sorry I forget it wasn’t 1985 anymore). When children are taken to ikea they get bored – which is understandable as the only interest they have in furniture is its capacity to be adapted to a pirate ship or be used to shut their younger sister in. As a result parents get angry and shout. Go to Ikea on a weekend and you will observe a masterclass in bad parenting.

6. Trolleys. When you enter Ikea you’ll see normal shopping trolleys by the door. My advice is to leave them where they are. When you get to the warehouse where all the furniture is stacked you’ll find much more exciting flat-bed trolleys. While you are looking for Aisle 4 Section 17 to pick up your table they make excellent scooters – that is until you collide with a large woman carrying four pot plants and a selection of candles. You might even find the bored children following your example. Something that their parents will doubtless thank you for.

7. Meatballs. Quite possibly the best thing about Ikea is the restaurant – and specifically the meatballs with lingonberries Where else can you find delicious international cuisine for astoundingly good value. People go to Ikea at dinner time just to have some meatballs with the furniture being a side attraction.* You can even take some meatballs home with you to microwave which is a good thing as there is no way you’re going to have that kitchen unit assembled and be able to cook dinner in the space of a day.

June 19, 2010
7 Reasons Marc Fearns Should Be Celebrated

Keeping with the fine tradition of 7 Reasons founders celebrating their birthdays in June, today it is Marc’s turn. Now, I wouldn’t be the great man that I am if I didn’t dedicate this post to my fellow reasoner. So Marc, this is for you. And actually everyone else. Because you need to celebrate the great man. This is why.

1. June 18th. It might be a day in June, but apart from that, there is very little going for it. Sure, Delia Smith was born on this day, but so was Jason McAteer.* It’s about time we made this day special. A celebration of Marc Fearns is the way to go. And, if we celebrate June 18th, the day will probably go quicker.

2. Mystery. There is certainly an air of mystery about Marc Fearns. No one is quite sure how tall he is. No one is quite sure how old he is. No one is quite sure why he named his cat Horatio Pyewackett Caractacus Fearns. No one is quite sure how his brain works. But that’s good. It makes him intriguing. The last thing we want is to celebrate someone who is 5’8, 30 years-old, has a cat called Tibbles and whose brain works like clockwork. That’s been done.

3. Intrepid Experimentalist. You can say what you like about Richard Bacon – and many people do – what you can’t accuse him of though, is having a bad taste in experimentalists. There is little doubt that when it comes to cats, foil and the ability to walk, Marc Fearns is on the tip of Richard Bacon’s tongue. All because of this.

4. Rumour-Mill. What with spending most of your days making your cat walk over tin foil, it leaves a lot of time to muck around. Generally at the expense of others. Including me. The whole thing about me fancying myself? Marc started that. (No, seriously, he did). You may think me recommending you celebrate Marc – because he makes me look narcissistic – is an odd thing to do? Well, it’s not. In fact it’s quite logical. Sometimes, you are told something so much, that eventually you begin to believe it. Marc is the reason I am who I am. He could do the same for you.

5. Emotional Blackmail. How could you not feel sorry celebrate someone who looks like this?

6. Library Builder. Getting the builders in, is one of those things that fills people with dread. If it’s not how much mud they are going to traipse across the carpet, it’s how many tea-bags are they going to get through. Which is where Marc comes in. He can build a library in 90 seconds. And he doesn’t drink tea. If you want him to come and build a library for you, send him an email: [email protected]

7. 7 Reasons. The 7 Reasons concept wouldn’t exist without Marc Fearns. I know there are two of us who supposedly founded it, but I have been pressing for it to become 1 Reason for a long time now. Marc is the one who keeps it ticking over. Who keeps driving it forward. So if you like the concept, then it is he who you should celebrate. If you would prefer to read 1 Reason on a daily basis, celebrate me again. Just like you did last week. You remember, that day you really enjoyed.

*I have just discovered today is also the birthday of Fabio Capello and Sir Paul McCartney. It’s okay though. We can celebrate them all. Especially if England win.

June 18, 2010
7 Reasons It’s Awkward Travelling On The Train (With A Strange Man)

1. It’s Monday morning and I am on the train to London. It’s after 9.00am so the train is fairly empty. I have a a block of six seats to myself. We pull into Maidstone East. A man gets on. He could sit anywhere. But he doesn’t. He sits opposite me, one seat across. Why? Why did he do this? But worse is to follow. He says, ‘Good Morning’. I feel awkward. I know shouldn’t. I know I should just be able to say ‘Good Morning’ back, but it feels strange. A stranger saying good morning to me on a train. I mumble a ‘Hi’ back, feel a bit embarrassed and go back to my book.

2. It’s no more than five minutes later. I am reading, but I can sense the man is looking at me. I feel awkward. I raise my head. Sure enough he is looking at me. He sees my attention on the book has lapsed and takes his chance. ‘Good book?’ he says. ‘So far, it’s very interesting,’ I reply. We spend the next five minutes talking about Harold Larwood. (I am reading his biography). I say we talk about Harold Larwood. He does most of the talking. I pretend to look interested.

3. There is a lull in what was never a flowing conversation. I feel awkward. Is now the time I go back to my book? Or is that deemed rude? Am I now supposed to talk to this man all the way to London Victoria? The man looks towards the window. I see this as the opportunity I have been waiting for. I turn back to my book. And I vow not to look up again.

4. We arrive at London Victoria forty minutes later. We haven’t spoken in that time. I stand up and grab my bag from the rack. The man is still sitting there. What is he waiting for? I feel awkward. What do I do? Am I required to say goodbye? I think about it. In fact I am sure I am about to say it. But I don’t. I just look at him. And half-smile. And half-nod. And half-walk off the train. The other half ran.

5. I’m waiting on the platform for a Wimbledon bound District Line train. Suddenly, from behind a bloke who is no doubt sponsored by Pukka Pies, appears someone I recognise. It’s the man again. And he’s seen me. I feel awkward. Now what do I do? I didn’t say goodbye. Surely that means I don’t say hello. But we can’t just stand next to each other and pretend we are just two people who have never seen each other before. That would be awkward. He’s getting closer. But here comes the train! I feel less awkward. I get on the train. I sit down. The man sits opposite me. I feel awkward.

6. My stop is next. Parsons Green. Surely this man isn’t going to get off here. We have spent twenty minutes not talking to each other. But I haven’t been reading. I have mainly been looking out of the window. But the window is behind the man. So occasionally I’ve caught his eye-line. And I’ve felt awkward. What should I have done? Is he thinking the same as me? Or have I hurt his feelings? Have I made him think he’s boring? Parsons Green arrives. The doors open. I stand up, turn left and alight. I walk down the platform. I dare not look back. I know, I just know, that if I do, he’ll be there. I walk home and never look back.

7. I’m in the kitchen. I’ve just flicked the kettle on. I decide there is probably a 7 Reasons post in this. Something about feeling awkward on the train. I get my notepad out and start scribbling down what happened. I get six reasons done and re-read them. As I read it, I feel awkward. I feel awkward about feeling awkward. I also feel very silly.

June 16, 2010
7 Reasons You Shouldn’t Write 7 Reasons While Watching The Football

It seemed like a good idea at the time. Ghana v Serbia, one of those games that I’m not desperate to see, but because it’s the World Cup I feel I should. So I did in the knowledge that it would also give me 90 minutes (plus half time) to write 7 Reasons. Easy.

1. The Girlfriend (Part A). She knows I’m watching the football whilst trying to write 7 Reasons. She asks me what the topic is. I say, ‘Darling, it’s 7 Reasons you shouldn’t write 7 reasons while watching the football’. She muses for a second, then replies, ‘Multitasking. Men can’t multitask’. I look around. She’s on the kitchen floor, watching the football, talking to me and cleaning a barbecue grill with a toothbrush. I feel admiration for my girlfriend. She can multitask with the best of them. But now I feel challenged. I must finish my 7 Reasons piece before Ghana finish Serbia. I don’t like the pressure.

2. Spelling. I spend more time concentrating on the football than on the page in front of me. This is dangerous, as when I don’t concentrate I have a habit of miss-spelling ‘tootbrush’, writing the incorrect version of ‘peace’ and adding multiple erroneous apostrophes. I also spell ‘eronous’ incorrectly.

3. Clive Tyldesley. Nothing is really happening in the game. Ghana have a throw-in just inside their own half. If I am ever going to get a chance to write something while watching the football, this is it. I look down. But as soon as I do Clive gets excited. I can only assume this is coincidence. I look up. Nothing is happening. Serbia have a goal-kick. I look down. Clive gets excited. I look up. Nothing is happening. I look down. Clive gets excited. I look up. Nothing is happening. I look down. I feel my neck. It’s beginning to hurt.

4. Immaturity. I see a player called ‘Panstil’. This amuses me. I spend ten minutes desperately trying to think of a joke that involves the word pants. I finally think of one. All I need is for Panstil to make a sliding tackle and lose his shorts. If he does I can say, ‘Lucky he’s still got his panstil’. I then realise this isn’t very funny. I note I still have a lot of growing up to do.

5. The Girlfriend (Part B). We are into the second half-time. The score-line reads Reasons Done 3 – Reasons Still To Go 4. My girlfriend – now attacking the grill with a brillo pad – asks what I’ve got so far. I read them to her. I wait for the laughter. It comes. Eventually. But then, so does, ‘You have a very strange brain’. I would have preferred her to compliment my shorts. I am wearing nice shorts. Clive gets excited. I look up.

6. Other Sport. Watching the football means I am missing all the other sport that’s on. I still am not sure which position Jenson Button is on the grid – and the F1 coverage has started on the other side. Nor, by watching the football, am I keeping up to date with the domestic cricket scene. I stop writing reasons for a minute. I also stop watching the football. I check cricket scores on my iPhone. I look around. My girlfriend is looking at me. I realise I am not doing much in the way of multitasking. Clive gets excited. I turn back to the screen. Nothing is happening. I have fifteen minutes to think of a final reason.

7. The Girlfriend (Part C). I am struggling to think of a seventh. My girlfriend asks me how I am getting on. I say, ‘Darling, I am struggling to think of a seventh’. She replies, ‘Well if you manage to think of a seventh I know that you can multitask. So next time the football is on you can peel some potatoes too.’ I am conflicted. She has just given me the seventh reason I shouldn’t have written this while the football was on. I have done it. I have proved men can multitask. But I have also proved why men shouldn’t multitask. Clive gets excited. It’s full-time. Ghana have won. And so has The Girlfriend.

June 14, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons Why Summer Is Ace

Oh how we do like to be beside the seaside. Which is why today Marc and I have dressed in our nauticals and headed off for the beach. In doing so we leave the 7 Reasons sofa in the capable hands of Liz Gregory. Someone who probably now wishes she was at the seaside with us instead of clearing up our biscuit crumbs. Once you’ve read Liz’s piece, do pop over to her blog, Things To Do In Manchester, and say hello. She’s waiting for you. With an ice-cream.

1. More Daylight. This is of course the original and best reason why summer is better than winter. You don’t feel like you’re getting up in the middle of the night to go to work, and you don’t have the urge to put your pyjamas on the second you get home – somehow the day just seems to have more hours in it. Although mathematically, of course, it doesn’t.

2. Barbecues. What other occasion allows you to consume a meal consisting entirely of meat? Sure, you may wish to bump up the nutritional value by adding a fruit/vegetable item such as ketchup, but you are under absolutely no pressure to do so. There is no other repast in the world that permits this kind of sausage-based frenzy, so we should embrace it while we can. And because the food is eaten outside in the fresh air, it is officially incredibly healthy and good for you.

3. No Tights. I admit this is largely a female-interest point (or so I presume), but I’m sure men have an equivalent item they are glad to leave behind come summer. Where there are tights, there is discomfort, particularly for tall girls who may encounter gusset-issues, or smaller girls who may suffer from bagging at the ankles. Summer weather frees us from such tyranny, and as a bonus also allows for the painting of toe-nails and the donning of flip flops.

4. Acceptability of Pink Wine. There are certain drinks that are only acceptable in the summer months, pink wine being one of them. Anything tastes nice when consumed outside in the sunshine, leading people with normally impeccable taste to enthusiastically adopt drinks they would eschew at other times of the year; Pimm’s also falls into this category. Somehow, in June a glass full of sweet alcohol crammed randomly full of lumps of cucumber seems right; you will have returned to your senses by Autumn, so do not be frightened by this kind of temporary lapse.

5. Beer Gardens. Sometimes better in thought than actuality; many of the beer gardens near where I live are in fact trestle tables lined up around the edge of the car park. Still, use your imagination (or simply live in the country as opposed to central Manchester), and you could be somewhere really picturesque. Plus, there’s always the amusement of watching someone at a nearby table leap up and hare across the pub, pursued by angry wasps who wish to share their pint of lager.

6. Tabloid Newspapers. Tabloids were made for summer. Hot days will inevitably lead to pictures of bikini-clad lovelies cavorting in fountains, dogs playing with hose-pipes and parrots eating ice-cream; this is a part of our cultural heritage of which we are justly proud. Real news is simply put on hold until September, or is tucked safely away behind the pictures of children with Slush Puppy cartons on their heads.

7. The Seaside. The British seaside is a wondrous thing, demonstrating the wonder of humanity in its many forms. Here we eat bubblegum-flavoured ice-cream, paddle in seaweed-infested waters, and trample on the complex sandcastles and villages that nearby children have spent hours crafting. Pack a lovely picnic (must include pink wine – see Reason 4) and enjoy the feeling as your shoulders start to burn; remember, the rest of the summer will be wet, so plenty of time for the redness to fade.

June 12, 2010
7 Reasons To Experience A Simple Pleasure

7 Reasons is, by and large, a humour site. At least that’s what we like to think. You may have noticed that occasionally we divert from this, although it must be said that half the time it is probably not that intentional. Today, you’ll be pleased to hear though, it is. So there’s no need to laugh. I was walking back from Tesco the other day when my phone vibrated in my pocket. It got me thinking about simple pleasures. I know what you are thinking, but no, it wasn’t that kind of pleasure. Well it was, but that’s not what I am talking about. It was a text from someone and it made me smile. And I thought to myself, while stubbing my toe, that sometimes it’s the simplest things in life that are the best. So, if you want a simple pleasure today, try these.

1. Tea. There is nothing quite like a cup of tea. Nothing. Despite what 50% of the 7 Reasons creative force say. A good cup makes you go ‘Ahhh’. Ahhh-ing is the ultimate simple pleasure. Unless it’s…

2. Confectionary. There is nothing quite like the satisfaction you get from biting all the chocolate off a Kit-Kat finger without breaking the biscuit. Or letting a Rolo melt in your mouth without giving into the temptation to bite in to it. Or getting a Malteser stuck up your nose. Unless it’s…

3. Displaying Knowledge. There is nothing quite like answering a question no one else knows the answer to. Especially when you declare your answer with, ‘I know this! I’ve done it! It’s sodomy!’. Unless it’s…

4. Finding Treasure. There’s nothing quite like putting your hand in your pocket to find a forgotten pound coin. Or a five pound note. Or that you’ve got someone else’s trousers on. Unless it’s…

5. Child’s Play. There is nothing quite like walking past an empty playground, looking around to see if anyone is about and then quickly nipping over to the swing for one last ride. And then trying to jump off and forgetting to let go. Unless it’s…

6. Winning/Insulting The French. There is nothing quite like finding you can use the last couple of letters on your scrabble rack to spell the word ‘Francophobia’. Unless it’s…

7. Unexpected Research Results. There is nothing quite like researching for the most popular simple pleasures and being presented with the website SimplePleasure.org.uk. And then clicking on the link and discovering it’s a site for sex toys. Just as your housemate enters your room to ask you a question.

June 2, 2010
Russian Roulette Sunday: Ambient Advertising

Hello, it’s me. (Or Mr Lee to you). Happy Sunday to you. Now, in the last few weeks you will have noticed that Marc has blown all the 7 Reasons marketing budget on a couple of films. And as good as they were, I have been left with the challenge of promoting 7 Reasons on a budget of zero. You may think that sounds like tough work? Well it would be for mere mortals, but we are talking about me here. Which is why I have come up with the genius idea of 7 Reasons Masks. There are two versions – one of Marc and one of me – so it shouldn’t take too long for you to complete the set. All we want you to do is walk around with one of these masks on your face. My plan is for thousands of people to do it so eventually it becomes a sort of, ‘Who Are They?’ mystery. People will want to find out. I would say you would want to find out, but…erm… you already know. Anyway, newspapers will track us down and talk about us. For free. Genius. So please, go out and look like me. Or Marc. And, just in case you are wondering what to wear them with, here are some ideas. You can of course get a better look at my breasts if you click the image.

See, they really do go with anything. To get a mask all you have to do is email [email protected] with either Jon Mask or Marc Mask in the subject line. We will then send you a pdf version of the mask which you can download and print onto the back of a cereal packet. Before you know it you’ll be looking like one of us. Oh, and helping create history for the number of good looking people out and about at the same time. Right, that’s me finished for the day. Thanks for your assistance and, of course, do post your photos to the rapidly growing facebook group. Or don’t. Whichever you feel more comfortable with really. Peace out dudes.

May 30, 2010
7 Reasons These Phrases Just Don’t Make Sense

1. Get On Like A House On Fire. So this means you supposedly get on really well with someone. Marc and I, for example, get on like a house on fire. Unfortunately, if a house is on fire, it is going to burn to the ground. Soon there will be no house. There will be ashes. It will be the end. So really, if people get on like a house on fire, it actually means the relationship won’t last. So like I say, Marc and I get on like a house on fire.

2. Keep Your Eyes Peeled. Eyes are not like onions. Or carrots. Or potatoes. In fact they are not like any food substance. Unless we are talking sheep’s eyes. But we are not. We are talking about human eyes. And how silly it is to tell someone to keep an eye out for something by encouraging them to get the peeler out of the drawer.

3. Bringing Home The Bacon. This is fine if you’re a butcher, but if you are a banker or a fireman or a solicitor or a professional ferret tickler, you don’t want to have to keep bringing bacon home every night. Particularly as the ferret will probably eat it. ‘Bringing Home The Money’ makes far more sense. Especially if you’ve just robbed Barclays.

4. Drink Like A Fish. Obviously we all know that this means to drink a lot. The correct phrase, however, should be ‘Drink Like A Saltwater Fish’. Freshwater fish, unlike their saltwater friends, do not drink water. They absorb it. Why does this matter? Well if you know that someone who drinks like a saltwater fish is coming round to the party, you can give them a glass of fizz. If, on the other hand, you know they drink like a freshwater fish, well you can run them a bath.

5. Saved By The Bell. No one, in the history of the world, has ever been saved by a bell. A bell is an inanimate object and thus not able to save people. If, for example, you were shot at but the bullet ricocheted off a bell, well you wouldn’t have been saved by the bell you would have been saved by your wise positioning. Or the sniper’s inaccuracy.

6. What A Load Of Codswallop. We use this to describe our 7 Reasons posts quite a lot. It means, ‘what a load of nonsense’ of course. But it shouldn’t. By my calculations it should mean, ‘what a load of fishes punch’ or ‘what a load of fishes whack’. Since when did ‘fishes whack’ mean ‘nonsense’?

7. It’s Cold Enough To Freeze The Balls Off A Brass Monkey. No it’s not. It’s never cold enough to do that. It’s cold enough to freeze the balls off a 7 Reasons co-founder, maybe. But not off a brass monkey. And while we are on the subject, has anyone ever seen a brass monkey with balls? Or is that the point? Have they all been frozen off? Okay, you’ll have to disregard this reason. It actually makes perfect sense.

May 25, 2010