Yes, it’s me. I’m back. Despite quitting on Tuesday, I find myself back in front of the 7 Reasons CMS typing away. Apparently I need to give two years notice if I want to leave. Roll on March 2013 then! So that’s the future sorted, now let’s concentrate on today. You probably remember with great fondness that day I gave you seven reasons to name your son Troy. Since then there has been a 0.004% rise in the number of Troys in the world showing that with great reasoning comes great Christenings. It did dawn on me though that, given its current upward curve of popularity, come the year 5000, one in every 18,000 people would be called Troy. That’s too many Troys floating around. As a result I need to increase the popularity of another name to decrease the popularity of Troy. And the name I have chosen is Byron. Here are seven reasons to name your son Byron:
1. Unique. If you get in now, your son will have a very unique name. According to wikipedia only 24 people in the entire world have the first name Byron. Personally I think it’s closer to 25. They are probably just slow at updating their records. That’s still not many though.
2. Achiever. On that wikipedia list of 24, there are professional sportsmen, US senators and a Greek cellist. In fact the worst profession of any of the Byrons is ‘Welsh football player’. You name your son Byron and you watch him go.
3. Strength. I suspect the above has something to do with the following. The name Byron is a motivator. On the one hand constantly saying ‘Bye Ron’ to your son will have a slightly negative effect. For one, he’ll think he’s called Ron and secondly, he’ll feel neglected. On the positive side though, it will make Ron a tough character. He’ll start looking after himself from a very young age. Your Byron will probably start cleaning cars for money. Then he’ll sell cars for money. Then he’ll sell money for more money. Eventually he’ll be hosting series 63 of The Apprentice. It’ll be amazing to watch him say, ‘You’re fired!’ and the firee reply with a cheery, ‘Bye Ron’.
4. Awkwardness. Quite why anyone would want to know where young Byron was conceived is beyond my capabilities of understanding. Just in case you are friends with one (or more) of the Loose Women though, the name automatically answers their question. Yep, Byron Bay. It would be helpful if you had an amazing holiday in Australia nine months before the birth too. Just so the story has gravitas.
5. Twins. If you would like more than one child at the time of birth, deciding on naming your son Byron is a sure fire way of ending up with twins. Byron, get one free.*
6. Shortening. The great thing about the name Byron is that he can shorten it to match his occupation or hobbies. If he invents a new pen, it’s Byro. If he likes dabbling in the stock-market, it’s Byr. If he likes women and men, it’s By. And if he enjoys pollinating flowers, making honey, stinging people and dying, it’s B.
7. Meaning. The name Byron means ‘barn for cows’ or ‘at the cattle sheds’. You know where you stand with that. I suspect one of the reasons for my self-loving is because Jonathan means ‘gift of God’.
PS: Many congratulations to anyone who has had a baby recently. Particularly if you’ve called him (or her) Byron.
*I’m sorry. This is probably the worst reason I have ever written. I just couldn’t help myself.
Yesterday my writing partner Jon wrote about a man in Folkestone who has had his stereo and CD collection confiscated for playing Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman at “ear-splitting” volume through the night. Jon wrote brilliantly. Jon, however, did not have an explanation as to why anyone would play I’m Every Woman at an abnormally high volume and put it down to “… feminist undertones that are far too subtle for my man-sized brain to detect”. He was wrong though. Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman is not a feminist anthem in the least. It’s a hateful piece of misogyny. Women: Here are seven reasons that you should not listen to Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman.
1. “I’m every woman”. Women are subjected to many idealised and unrealistic representations in the modern media: They’re shown waiflike airbrushed models in every magazine and told they should look like them; they’re shown domestic goddesses in ideal kitchens and told they should cook like them. They’re shown Kirsty Alsop and told to do whatever the hell she says. In short, women are burdened with unattainable and unrealistic expectations. It is oft said that a woman should be “a whore in the bedroom and a chef in the kitchen”, but for many women, this is an unattainable goal. Not for Chaka Khan though, she’s every woman: She’s a whore in the bedroom, a chef in the kitchen, an iron lady in parliament, a ballerina in the dance hall, a rocket-scientist in the rocket and Mother bloody Theresa of Calcutta in Calcutta all rolled into one. How is any mere mortal woman supposed to compete with Chaka Khan? They can’t. She’s every woman. Any woman hearing this will feel inadequate.
2. “It’s all in me”. Chaka is also a massive slut. It’s all in her. Whatever it is, she has all of it. In her. That leaves none for the rest of you. Not a drop. Not an inch. Not a sausage. And how does Chaka Khan spend her remaining leisure hours?
3. “I can…mix a Special Brew”. That’s right, she spends them making cocktails for tramps. Do you do anything as virtuous and worthy as that? No, of course you don’t. None of the rest of you have even considered donating your free time to servicing the beverage needs of vagabonds, have you? No. Only Chaka Khan is this benevolent.
4. “I can read your thoughts right now”. She knows what you’re thinking too. She knows that you’re thinking, “What a smug bloody bitch, how am I supposed to compete with her?” Or, if you live in Folkestone, “Aaaarrrggghhh!!!! Turn it down you bastard!!!!”. Whatever bad thought you are thinking about Chaka Khan, she knows about it. And this doesn’t bode well for you because…
5. “I can…put fire inside of you”. Yes, Chaka Khan can make you spontaneously combust! As if it weren’t bad enough that she’s making you ordinary non-super-awesome-Chaka-Khan-women feel like wretched and inadequate harridans, she’s threatening you too. She can summon the power of fire! The message is clear: Don’t anger Chaka Khan ladies; she can set your innards alight; she can singe your ovaries and toast other bits that I don’t know the names of. Chaka Khan can kill you with her disco inferno. And she probably will because…
6. “Danger or fear, instantly I will appear…” You’re aware that Chaka Khan knows when you think bad things about her and you know that she can make you burst into flame. So you are in danger, and you’re probably afraid. And you should be very, very afraid because that’s the very point when Chaka Khan will appear! Instantly! And she’s likely to be furious. But you shouldn’t just be afraid of spontaneous combustion, you should be afraid of being in the same room with her full stop. Because – even if she’s in a benevolent mood and you find that you aren’t on fire – you’ll look like a feckless inadequate in comparison. Because she can do even more than you previously supposed…
7. “Anything you want done baby, I’ll do it naturally”. It’s not enough that she’s bloody every woman that can have any man (and has) and that she can read your thoughts and make you burst into flame at will, Chaka goes on to tell us that she can do anything. Naturally. This means that she can change your mood with crystals, she can heal your ailments with reiki, she can beat you in a gardening contest without using fertilizer, she can probably put up bookshelves using whale-song. She’s not merely omnipotent, she’s environmentally sustainable, GM free, solar-powered, dolphin-friendly and her farts probably smell of unpasteurised organic monofloral honey (or at least they would if she farted but she never, ever does). The only thing that Chaka Khan apparently can’t do is nothing. Artificially. Which isn’t really much of a flaw as far as I can see.
So there you have it. Playing Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman at an ear-splitting volume is a crass act of misogyny that is calculated to make any woman listening feel inadequate, envious, unworthy, paranoid, afraid, very afraid and when – with tear-streaked make up – she’s sobbing in terror and doesn’t think she can sink any lower it makes her feel just that little bit more inadequate. And fat. Chaka Khan is a heinous oppressor of women and I say we should burn the witch.
Anyone who witnessed the draft version of this post will have seen that it was originally entitled, 7 Reasons Having A Penchant For Chaka Khan’s ‘I’m Every Woman’ Is Perfectly Natural. And there were seven reasons. Loose reasons, but seven reasons non-the-less. It was ready to be published. Only, I couldn’t do it. For the first time in my life I had written something I couldn’t even pretend to believe. Having a penchant for Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman is not perfectly natural. In fact, it’s wrong. Very wrong. So wrong that it’s actually inexplicable.
Before we get to the reasons for this, let me first set the scene. Last night I choked on a peanut. Or at least I would had I been eating peanuts. I was quite happily half ignoring the BBC regional news – that’s South East Today for me – when a story shocked me to my very core. A man, a man from Folkestone, has had his stereo seized after he continuously played Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman at an abnormally high volume.
Here’s why that’s an inexplicable thing to do:
Chaka (or Khan)
1. Logic. Right from the outset this song makes little sense. ‘I’m Every Woman’? How is that even possible? Rosanne Barr was a big girl, but not even she could be classed as ‘every woman’. Rather surprisingly she has only ever been classed as one. From this I come to the conclusion that I’m Every Woman has feminist undertones that are far too subtle for my man-sized brain to detect. So while I can understand the need for Germaine Greer to dance around the kitchen with her rolling pin, for this man I can not.
2. Choice. While there is nothing wrong with this man pitching his tent in the camptastic field, one does have to question his choice of song. I mean, anyone with half an ear drum can confirm that I Feel For You is a much finer work than I’m Every Woman. It starts with a guy who has a stammer trying to say, “Chaka Khan” for goodness sake. Genius.
3. Realisation. I’m a fairly impassive person. What other people think of me doesn’t bother me in the slightest – which is probably just as well really given the current standings in Sunday’s 7 Reasons poll. I have never had a problem admitting that my music collection includes some inexplicable titles. Billie Piper’s Honey To The B for example. This doesn’t mean however that I actually enjoy listening to the album. No, honestly, I don’t. In fact I think it has been hidden in the loft by my girlfriend. As I have got older, my musical tastes have evolved. To such an extent that if I even so much as see my copy of Louise’s Woman In Me I break out in a cold sweat. I know not to touch it.* It’s a self-preservation thing I think. I don’t believe that Folkestone man doesn’t feel the same way when he approaches his CD rack. Which makes his decision to go through and actually play his music even more baffling.
4. Guilty Pleasures. Obviously, when I say my musical taste has evolved, that doesn’t mean I don’t get a twitch on when certain songs I probably shouldn’t like float out of the speakers. Boy Meets Girl’s Waiting For A Star To Fall is probably the most guilty of these pleasures. What I wouldn’t do though, is play it so loud that the entire neighbourhood has a party in the street and I appear in The Daily Express. The Daily Telegraph maybe, but not the Express.
5. More Logic. I think I do understand a little of what Folkestone man must have been going through. I can relate to his predicament slightly. If I am watching cricket and my girlfriend is vacuuming I have to turn the volume up to hear what the commentators are saying. That is the natural thing to do. I presume from my experience that Folkestone man had little choice but to drown out the sound of his neighbours banging on the wall by turning up the volume. What I don’t understand is why he didn’t pause his music until the banging had stopped? Obviously that’s not something I can do if I am watching live sport. The knowledge that I am watching something five minutes after it has happened makes me feel violently ill.
6. Jobsworths. I guess the thing that really baffles me about Folkestone man is that he clearly likes keeping ‘Noise Officers’ in jobs. Noise Officers! Do we really need people whose full time role it is to identify what is too loud or not? No we don’t. It’s bloody obvious. If can hear it and I can’t control it, then it’s too loud. Maybe if Folkestone man and his ilk turned down their music, these noise officers could go and do something useful. Like chase burglars.**
7. The 7 Reasons Test. It has taken me far too long to come up with six reasons, let alone seven and quite frankly I need to get on with my life. But this only goes to show how inexplicable playing Chaka Khan’s I’m Every Woman abnormally loud is. If it was explicable I would have probably been able to reason it in thirty minutes. As it is, it has taken me a good three hours to get this far. I’ll be honest, this has been my worst 7 Reasons experience since 7 Reasons It Sometimes Takes 7 Hours To Write 7 Reasons and at the moment I have very little interest in returning to this site ever again. I’m turning to drink. And for once I don’t mean tea.
*Rather interestingly this CD isn’t in the loft. I am looking at it right now. Sweaty, but tempted.
**Whoever came up with the idea of Noise Officers needs to get in touch with me today to prevent a 7 Reasons rant on Thursday.***
Good morning Sunday. Usually on Sunday we rid ourselves of the strict seven reasons framework and let it all hang out. Today is slightly different. Without request, bargaining or bribery, former (and future) guest writer Richard O’Hagan decided to be nice to us. Now, 50% of the 7 Reasons team don’t go in for all this self-loving egotistical narcissism that is so prevalent on the internet. The other 50% can’t get enough. And because he is in charge this Sunday he has decided to share the nice things Richard said about us with you. For reasons best known to himself – though he did cite our week of cat flap/flat cap/flat cat borrowing – Richard has thoughtfully provided the world with seven reasons as to why one of you should borrow one of us. And here they are:
1. Technical Skills (IT). It must be obvious to anyone that the 7 Reasons team are technical geniuses when it comes to computer related stuff. Every now and then a post appears which is so laden with computer-speak that it is the written equivalent of being audible only to dogs, ergo they must know a lot more about this stuff than you or I. So the next time that your office computers crash, don’t wait for some numpty in Prague or Mumbai to diagnose your problem, simply borrow a 7 Reasons member to sort it out for you
2. Technical Skills (DIY). Look at that sofa! Isn’t it a work of genius? How much talent must be bottled up in these two guys, that they can produce something so seamless that you can hardly see the join (apart from the change in colour and style, obviously). Here are men so talented with a saw, screwdriver and hammer that the likes of Tommy Walsh weep in their presence (presumably). There is simply no reason to employ someone else to put up your shelves or build your decking when you can go to the very best and borrow Marc or Jon
3. Geographical Convenience. Better still, with one of them (Marc) being Oop North, and the other (Jon, by a process of elimination) Dahn Sarf, you can guarantee that a 7 Reasons expert is only minutes away (as even hours can be measured in minutes, too), thereby making them far more likely to show up and fix your problem than any other so-called expert
4. Lemons. One of my wife’s frequent complaints is that whenever I buy fish, I forget to buy a lemon for her to squeeze over it. 7 Reasons practically runs on the things, so why not borrow a 7 Reasons-er to do your shopping for you and avoid citrus-related domestic grief forever (unless your wife wanted limes. Or oranges)
5. Cats. Have you ever tried getting a cat sitter? It is almost impossible to find one for less than the cost of the holiday you were going on in the first place. And catterys cost even more. So why not borrow Marc, a self confessed tolerator of felines, to look after your cats whilst you are gone. There’s at least a 50% chance that he won’t try and feed them on lemons.
6. Empathy. At least one of the 7 Reasons boys is colour blind. At least one is married. If, like me, you are both colour blind and married you can really do with having someone to empathise with as your wife yet again complains that your shirt and trousers clash with one another. Borrow the 7 Reasons team and you have an instant set of shoulders (four, in fact) to cry on.
7. 7 Bespoke Reasons. You just know that the 7 Reasons team spend all day, every day, wandering around in a highly-developed comedic haze, every fibre twitching to find the source of the next 7 Reasons post. If you borrow one of them, you will find that it is your life that 7 Reasons becomes based upon. Which, frankly, is even better than writing 7 of them for yourself.
So there you have it. Well, almost. Due to the success of Thursday’s poll – which was won handsomely by “Fnuduhuh!” – we thought we’d give your fingers another chance to click on something. In line with today’s revelations, we are asking …
Remember those great days when you’d put the chairs together, turn the table upside down and grab ever available cushion in the house? That’s right, when you were making a fort. You probably haven’t done that for a while have you? We can’t help but think that’s wrong. Which is why we are delighted to welcome Ewan MacDougal to the 7 Reasons sofa. He’s going to put it right. And given that he spends most of his time playing around with Furniture 123’s living room furniture, he probably knows what he’s talking about. Here’s Ewan:
The relaxed ambience of The Keep
So over the last two or three years I’ve regressed, I don’t think it’s that uncommon – something to do with not wanting to be called a grown up I guess, anyway I’ve noticed a definite increase in the amount of toys I’m buying, cartoons I’m watching* , Dinosaurs I’m absent mindedly doodling**. I’ve even suddenly got an obsession with wanting a pet tortoise, mostly because I think it will look like a baby dinosaurs. In essence I think I’ve become about 7 years old (which is actually about a third my age). A few things are different about being 7 this time around though, one is that I have a job, so I can buy the big box of second hand dinosaurs from eBay without being forced to save up for a year, and another is that I now live with “contemporaries” rather than “parents” meaning that when I decide it’s a good idea to scrap the traditional living room lay out in favour of a fortress built out of living room furniture. The idea should theoretically be open for discussion rather than immediately vetoed as it was in 1994. So here are my seven reasons why having a fortress in place of living room furniture would be infinitely better.
1. End To Classism. So nearly everyone I know around my age in this area lives in basically the same pre furnished rented house, if they’re paying a lot the furniture looks quite nice, if they’re not it’ll smell a bit damp and has the odd hole. Basically you can walk into any house and instantly know what they’re paying and judge for your self if you’re socially better than them. I believe this is unfair, I believe that we should judge people not by the tatty state of there furniture but by the quality of there posters and there DVD / CD collection. I’m no historian, but I am vaguely aware that communism made similar attempts, and tried to get rid of this kind of class signifier. Where they went wrong, however, was to try and standardise everything***. How boring. No, no one wants to live in a generic living room, so instead let’s let creativity flow, let’s all spend our free time draping sheets over armchairs and turning sofas upside down. Let’s make tents out of cushions and barricades out of book shelves. I want all our furniture over turned and torn apart until it no longer has any value as furniture, but instead must be appreciated for the creativity and effectiveness as an awesome fort.
2. Privacy. So windows, yes I guess they were a good idea, the whole day light thing and being able to see what’s going on outside are all pretty handy traits. The trouble is though windows work both ways, people can look in at you whilst you’re looking out. I’m part of the anonymous internet generation.. by that I mean, I’m not always that sociable. I’m not that sociable and some times I have shameful TV taste that I don’t want the neighbours and passers by to know about. Curtains might be a temporary solution, but let’s face it, if I start closing the curtains every few hours; it’s going to look suspicious. Net curtains will work for some purposes but you can still see TV screens. The only real way to find privacy in the 21st century is to build a fort. Forts are all about secretness. The more secret a fort is the better, and let’s face it even if you have nothing to hide, pretending that you have can be really fun. Watching the lunchtime news under a duvet canopy with headphones, knowing the postman won’t even bother ringing your bell to deliver that parcel because it’s so obvious you’re “out” is incredibly exciting.****
3. Home Security. When I was growing up I never actually built forts, I built hide outs. I think this is probably because of my pacifist parents thinking that fort was too violent a word. However you’ll notice that I’m arguing that we build a fort. Why? well simple, reason 3 home security. Part of being a grown up now means that if a big nasty robber decides to break into the house, it’s now my job (as probably the biggest boy in the house) to defend us. What happened to the idea that Mum and Dad would always be able to protect you from everything? Despite my excellent Batman knowledge, I’m not sure how easily I can fend off these villains, so I need every advantage possible. Having an intricately built fort in the living room, with all kinds of escape hatches, hidden home alone style weapons and booby traps that only I, as architect of the fort, know the locations of would defiantly be an asset. These villains probably have all kinds of murdering experience, but when I’m hidden in my fort they’ll have no idea where I am, then when they least expect it, KAPOW I’ll pop out behind them with a water pistol filled with slippery oil. I’ll squirt them and the floor behind them. The shock will make them slide on the oil and they’ll fly all the way out of the house. Problem solved!
4. Exercise. One of the reasons why I’m a bit nervous about taking on all these villains is that I’m probably not in my peak physical shape, I’ve never been to a gym, and running seems incredibly boring. What I really need is some kind of obstacle in my living room that I had no choice but utilise several times a day. One of the arguments I’ve heard against building a fort in the living room is that it’d be like having a “blinking obstacle course in the way.” Well I think it’s in the whole homes interest that we are able to defend our selves against any attack, therefore the extra exercise we will get from this obstacle is indisputably a good thing! Anyone who doesn’t want it is surely in league with the murders and robbers and should be treated accordingly.
5. Squatter’s Rights. I only work part time*****, as a result I don’t earn that much, therefore paying rent seems to take a rather large amount out of my pocket. I’d rather not pay it to be honest. I don’t claim to understand the intricacies of squatters rights, but I know it has something to do with being allowed to live in a place for free if you stay there for a long time without being kicked out first. I quite like the idea of living in my home for free. I think if I just stopped paying the rent though Mr Shake the landlord would probably evict me fairly quickly. Now if I had an incredible fortress that I could hide in, filled with midnight feast supplies and spy holes, I’m sure I could hide from him with out being caught for literally hours. I’m sure that means that eventually squatter’s rights would be declared mine and I’d be able to live in my fort forever. Maybe I could even raise a family there?
6. Safety In Wartime. We live in uncertain times, terror attacks, a recent wave of revolutions, people over reacting to reality TV shows. War could break out at any moment, and with most WWII Anderson shelters turned into garden sheds, and 1950’s nuclear bunkers being kept top secret, a well built living room furniture fortress would probably be my place of choice to feel safe when the sirens go off. Shelters with walls made from pillows and blankets are going to make for a far more comfy retreat than the cold out door and underground shelters of the past, and let’s face it, in this age of advanced nuclear weaponry they’ll probably be just as effective.
7. Just Because. Building forts out of furniture is an awesome fun activity and anyone who disagrees is just a big loser face!
*My Batman knowledge is now amazing!
** These dinosaurs by the way tend to be locked in epic wars against robots, there pretty incredible!
*** Also maybe labour camps, mass executions and those kinds of things were a bad idea too? I think there traditionalist view of forts missed the point.
****Where as having a basement room with no curtains, where your woken up every day off by the postmen peering in your window and knocking on the glass to deliver your house mates parcel is not fun.
***** Perhaps the free time this leaves me with has contributed to my desire to build a fort
The CAT cap, that iconic piece of American headgear is, despite what you may have read yesterday, the ideal piece of millinery to wear when borrowing a large cat flap. Here’s why.
1. You’re Lost. On the way to see your flat flap (for fat cats) lender you get lost and you don’t have a map. Normally, you couldn’t ask for directions at all but, with your CAT cap as a disguise, you can. By pretending to be an American. It’s a well known fact that 94% of lost American tourists that you encounter in the UK are actually fat, badly dressed British people putting on a funny accent. You can be one too!
2. Whippets. You might not own a fat cat at all, you might own a whippet; those mid-sized runts from greyhound litters. But what if you want to borrow a cat flap for a whippet and don’t want it to be known that your greyhound is inadequate? You can’t wear a flat cap, they’ll assume you’re a whippet owner. You can, however, wear a CAT cap and pretend that you’re borrowing one for a cat. And that your caps lock is stuck.
3. Escape. You’re on the run. They’re after you. It’s your own fault really, you fell into bad company and were led astray. When one of your friends suggested that you should brilliantine your hair and don clothes from the 1920s to go out for a night on the town, you acquiesce. Unfortunately, your gang’s – having consumed several too many Tom Collins and Manhattans – behaviour has become indecorous and has descended into committing acts of japery and tomfoolery. Soon, you and your friends are filming each other with your portable telephones as you grab total strangers on the night bus and forcibly dance the Charleston with them. After one happy flapping incident too many, you find you have become separated from your chums and are being chased by an angry, powerful looking man called Matt whose only desire for the evening was to enjoy a quiet meal out with friends, and transport his large cat flap (for his fat cat, Pat) home. And boy is he fast. As you tear round the corner of Crash Street you find that he is tiring though, and you begin to pull away from him until, eventually, he is out of sight altogether. Then, with creeping horror, you realise that something is blocking your path. That’s right, it’s the Crash Street wall: You’ve run into a dead end. Desperately scanning the surrounding area for some means of escape, you spot a yellow CAT cap protruding from a bin bag. You dust it off and put it on just as Matt bounds into view. “He went in there” you shout while pointing at a padlocked door to your right, “here let me hold that for you”. He hands you the large cat flap and furiously heads toward the door. While his back is turned, you rapidly attach the cat flap to the wall and make your escape through it. If it weren’t for the CAT cap, this might not have ended so well.
4. Baldness. Have you ever lent a cat flap to a bald person? No. No one ever does. They need to cover their heads to get cat flaps. A CAT cap will achieve this.
5. Fame. You’re Guy Ritchie. You need to go out and borrow a prop. It’s a flat cat flap for a fat cat (the film’s in plain old 2D, so you only need a flat one). But you’re being papped, so you can’t wear a flat cap (as you’re a recognisable chap who they’ll try to snap) so you slap on a CAT cap to borrow your flat flap (for a fat cat), which you’re able to borrow without incident.
6. When Abroad. You’re in America. In the American mid-west, in movies from the eighties, where most people wear plaid shirts and mesh CAT caps. And you’re on holiday. Being the sort of person who likes to be prepared (and has a suitcase full of baked beans, ginger biscuits, tea and beige trousers), you have remembered to pack your fat cat and your door, but have unaccountably forgotten your cat flap. Your cat won’t be able to get through the door so you’ll need to borrow one. And how better to approach the locals and showing them you’re not a stranger than by donning a CAT cap, and driving over to their place in a pick-up truck. With Michael J. Fox or Kevin Bacon in the passenger seat. It’ll put them at their ease and they’ll be happy to let you take their cat flap. And these broken wings.
7. Donning. Perhaps you’re already the wearer of a CAT cap. And already own a fat cat, for whom you have a cat flap. But what if your fat cat has had some sort of cat flap mishap that caused it to snap (the cat flap, not the fat cat) while you were having a nap? Well in that case, you’d need to don your CAT cap and pop out to borrow a flat fat cat cat flap to replace the one that snapped. Self-evident, really.
Having examined the virtues of borrowing a cat flap on Monday and a flat cap yesterday, it seems only logical to combine the two. Logical, that is, to a professor of reasoning to the tune of seven. So, here you go. Seven reasons to wear a flat cap when borrowing a cat flap.
Flat Cap Cat In Cat Flap Flap Shocker!
1. Doffing. Unless you are very, very old, you probably haven’t had someone doff their hat/cap/beanie/pork pie at you. Sadly, along with the ability to offer thanks when you open a door for their entire rabble, it is from another age. But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong to do so. In the same way that I am now pleasantly surprised if I get a thank you- or indeed a tip – when I hold open the door to the local Co-Op or Claridges, a cat flap owner would be impressed if you doffed your flat cap at them when they answered the door. Immediately this disarms them. Well done, you have broken down the barriers to the cat flap.
2. Pink. Obviously if you have shocking pink hair then wearing a flat cap is a necessity. Anything that alienates you from a potential cat flap sharer is a bad thing. And pink hair is such an alienator. So wear a flat cap and ignore the doffing. In many ways doffing when you have pink hair is worse than not wearing a flat cap at all. But that’s not an invitation. Wear it and keep it on. Just as a by line, personally, I don’t believe you should be allowed a cat if you have pink hair. Under the incumbent government though it is allowed so all I can do is urge you to wear a flat cap. At all times.
3. Association. There are five types of people who wear flat caps. Hoorays, Guy Ritchies Marc Fearns’, whippet owners and farmers. The probability of a Hooray wanting to borrow a cat flap is slim, Guy Ritchie can afford to buy one, Marc Fearns already has one and we’ll come to whippet owners in the next reason. That leaves farmers as one of only two type of people who would knock on a door and ask to borrow a cat flap. Now farmers, as I am sure we are all aware, like animals. As a result the typical cat flap owner is going to be much more receptive to a farmer’s request than they would be if it came from someone attired in pith helmet. With accompanying shotgun and elephant tusks.
4. Preconception. As mentioned in the previous reason, the other type of person who wears a flat cap is a whippet owner. Or, if you prefer, a whippetier. Why should it be that the flat cap is synonymous with a type of dog and not a cat? It shouldn’t. It is catist. There is no better way therefore than to challenge the flat cap/whippet association by attempting to borrow cat flaps in a flat cap. And of course, if you are successful in your pursuit of a cat flap borrowing you will then have to decide what to do with your whippet. I find listening to Delia helps.
5. Bargaining. If may be that the cat flap owner – particularly if they are a 7 Reasons reader – is on the look out for a flat cap to borrow. How lucky therefore that you should be wearing one. It’s the perfect exchange of goods.
6. Versatility. In the unlikely event that the cat flap owner declines your request you may well become desperate. You may well start begging. And of course the best way to beg is by kneeling down and placing your cap upside down in front of you. If you smell bad this would also help.
7. Fame. As with many of the things we encourage on 7 Reasons, this has never been done before. I can absolutely guarantee that no one in the history of the world has attempted to borrow a cat flap while wearing a flat cap. So why not be the first? This time next week you could have the front page of your local paper framed and hanging on your wall. And what a wonderful talking point that would be. “Why is this, ‘Flat Cap Wearer Harasses Cat Flap Owners’, story on your wall?” Be sure to mention us won’t you?
Last night, upon viewing a Felix advert, my girlfriend – not for the first time – announced she wanted a cat. Upon enquiring as to why she didn’t get one, I was told that we don’t have a cat flap. (To be honest, I had noticed this before). Sensing my girlfriend’s disappointed I then suggested that perhaps we could borrow our next door neighbour’s cat flap. I didn’t share the seven reasons as to why this is a great idea then, because I wanted to share them with everyone who has a cat flap problem now. (And, I didn’t have seven reasons on me at the time). Here they are:
One flap, half a cat
1. Collection Service. It won’t make any difference to the cat whose flap they enter. The reason a cat enters the home is because they have had enough of being outside. At least that’s my logical conclusion. As a result, all you need is an arrangement with your neighbours. Whenever the cat enters their flap they get on the phone, you whip round, pick it up and bring it home. Then, the next day, you just take the cat round to your neighbours and let it make its own mind up on when it wants to leave the house via the flap.
2. Annoying. As with humans, I imagine a proportion of cats are very indecisive. They’re not sure whether they want to be in or out which means a lot of cat flap exit and entry. Thankfully, it’s your neighbours who will have to put up with the constant opening and shutting of the flap. You, quite frankly, couldn’t care less.
3. Maintenance. Due to the fact that you have an indecisive cat, the wear and tear on your neighbours cat flap is going to be acelerated. Not your problem though is it? They are the ones who will have to invest in WD40.
4. Hole In The Wall. The idea of knocking a hole in the wall to let a cat in or out scares me. What happens if a fox tries to get in? Or a rat? Or an alligator? That’s not the kind of thing I want to meet in the kitchen at 6.30am. Especially as I don’t have my eyes in at that time and as such can’t see a bloody thing. I’ll probably think my girlfriend has brought some crocodile skin boots. Which means we’ll end up having an argument. Firstly, about her choice of footwear attire and, secondly, about why I’ve bought an alligator to bed. I’ll win though. I’ll just tell her we should have borrowed next door’s cat flap. As I had recommended.
5. Community. The chances are that if your neighbours have a cat flap they also have a cat. As with your typical cat-based film, the two cats will argue and fight at first before slowly beginning to accept each other and like each other. They will then set out to patrol the neighbourhood together, fighting the invasion of mice and pigeons. And then presenting them on your neighbour’s carpet.
6. Worry. Now, despite never having had a cat myself, I know that owners start worrying when their feline friends don’t come home for a couple of months. If you are relying on your neighbours to tell you when your cat has returned from a day of adventure, you don’t have to worry so much. So they haven’t been in touch for a few days. That’s easily explained. They might not be in, they might be asleep or they might have moved. The cat it probably fine in Salisbury. Relax!
7. Feeding. With any luck your cat will eat the food that was supposed to be for your neighbours cat. Saving both your money and your nostrils.*
*Having recently fed a cat, I came to the conclusion that to own a cat you must have a permanently blocked nose.
Today sees the sofa experiencing something it would rather not. A Babylon5 marathon. But that is the price we pay for guest posts and at least we know it will come back in a good condition. Last week I had to scrub it clean with my Aston Villa shammy leather cloth after it had been infected by a Birmingham City supporter. Anyway, viewing Babylon5 – until the rugby starts – is Rob Lee. Or, if you prefer, Wobbly. I, incidentally, am Jelly. I often feel our double act days could have been so much more. Right, enough reminiscing, here’s my brother who ain’t heavy.
Billy Ocean
1. ‘Red light spells danger’. This says it all really. The red light that says don’t drive when stopped at traffic lights, the red light that tells you not to cross the road at inappropriate moments, the red light that warns you not to press the large, round flashing button attached to all that sophisticated computing equipment and large missile. It teaches children to fear red lights, and this is good, because red lights spell danger.
2. ‘Red light means warning’. Teaching young children is quite often based on repetition – clearly Mr Ocean was in touch with such modern teaching methods when he wrote this in the 1970s, as not only does he teach that a red light spells danger, but also that it means warning. This is very effective teaching – the children believe that they have been taught two different pieces of information, thereby preventing them from becoming bored, whilst they have in fact had the same important message twice drilled into them. Red lights mean danger. And Warning. Which are sort of the same thing. Sometimes.
3. ‘You got me on a ball and chain, doin’ things I don’t wanta’. Despite his lack of grasp of the correct grammatical use of the English language, which is not setting a good example I’ll admit, our education-minded singer is in this instance warning of the uncomfortable experience going to prison would result in. Not only being tied to a ball and chain, but also having to do things you don’t want to; traditionally this might be breaking large rocks into smaller rocks – this is of course bad for your teeth, so the lyric contains a valuable lesson about not eating too many sweets as well.
4. ‘Hold on, heaven guide me’. This is clearly a teaching about the importance of having faith. If you believe in that sort of thing, if you don’t, well, holding onto things is usually a useful practice too. Especially eggs, not holding on to eggs means you drop them, causing a mess, and then you’ll have to clean them up. Cleaning up a mess is probably something you don’t want to do, and as the previous point, erm, pointed out, doing things you don’t want to do isn’t much fun, and can be bad for your teeth. Anyway, if you do believe in heaven, then letting it guide you is a good thing to do, and if you don’t, holding onto things will suffice.
5. ‘I always used to kiss and run’. Having given it much thought, Billy also decided to include the rules to a common playground game in his song. Although, on reflection, the objective of kiss-chase was always to run after someone and then kiss them, not kiss them and then run away. Mind you, that might depend on whom you kissed. After all, running up to Big Ron, the class bully, and giving him a quick peck on the cheek might not be a clever idea, so, in fact, Mr Ocean is providing useful instruction on what to do should you run after the wrong person and kiss them. (N.B. this also applies in adult life, not just the school playground. Besides, kissing probably isn’t allowed in the school playground any more, for health and safety reasons.)
6. ‘I can feel the heat is on’. here we move to the significant element of home economics (that’s cooking lessons to the uninitiated). Checking that the heat is on in your oven is sound advice, since otherwise that cake you’ve just made won’t cook. It will sit in the oven, but without heat it will remain a mass of uncooked cake mixture. If you check first whether the heat is on, you’ll know when to put your mixture in the oven, and, therefore, end up with a delicious treat rather than a sickly pile of goo. However, as with all electrical or gas based equipment, you must naturally check that the red light is not on. Because red light spells danger. And warning. Just in case you weren’t sure the first time.
7. ‘Can’t hold out, I’m burning’. Many people believe that they should suffer in silence and not inflict their problems on other people, especially in these trying times. This is why they don’t walk around with a red light displayed on their head. In certain areas of the city there is another reason why they don’t wear a red light but we won’t go into that. Anyway, the point is, Mr Ocean is telling pupils not to remain silent if they are, in fact, burning, but that they should tell someone. Preferably a teacher. Lesson 7 – If you find yourself on fire, always tell the teacher. If you can’t find a teacher, display a red light. Because red light spells danger, and fire is quite dangerous.
For as long as I can remember, 7 Reasons has been on the receiving end of the below email. It’s in Spanish. I speak English. And a little French. And basic business Latin. As a result this email goes straight in the recycle bin. But, just like a Boomerang or Jim Davidson, if you even dare think you’ve got rid of it, it comes back again. And again. And again. Yesterday, I snapped. No longer could I ignore it. I took the time and effort to translate it. Having done so though, I can’t help but think a lot has been lost in Google Translation.
1. Welcome. That is what Bienvenidos means. Or at least that is what Google Translate suggests it means. Is this a Spanish thing? Welcoming you into an email? I thought a welcome was reserved for when you entered a shop or a hotel. I have never once received a letter from Barclays welcoming me. Which is a shame really, I imagine I’d have taken out more loans had they done so. Anyway, from this point on, I am suspicious of this email. And the Spanish in general. Not that the latter takes much, I have been suspicious of the Spanish since the Armada.
2. We have new and updated database of Spanish companies. That’s nice. Shall I reply and tell them about my collection of Wisdens?
3. We invite you to our solutions for effective advertising campaigns. Where are your solutions based I ask myself. Admittedly, it would probably help more if I asked them. As with many things in life it comes down to location, location, location. Yes, all three of them. I dare say if it was Barcelona based, Marc and I would be only too happy to visit the solutions. Sadly though, I suspect Google Translate has missed out the word ‘view’ from between ‘to’ and ‘our’. But this is only guess work. If I could speak Spanish I may well have been supping the delights of various solutions on the Spanish Riviera some eighteen months ago.
4. Offer databases of companies active in the Spanish market would gladly be interested in your products to establish permanent cooperation lines. Oh dear, you’ve lost me again. Something about opening a Co-Op store? Weird people.
5. The effectiveness of our products is guaranteed by the evidence of a growing list of satisfied companies, quickly been able to reach with your offer to new customers. While this is obviously nonsense, I can’t help but applaud the rather brilliant thought process going on here. So brilliant is it that I wish to adopt it for 7 Reasons. From now on the daily brilliance of 7 Reasons is guaranteed by the number of readers we have. For those of you struggling to grasp this concept, don’t worry. I am just addressing the Spanish in their language.
6. The database is updated every three months. In addition, every customer purchasing our database of Companies provide free the first update. See, I told you there was something dodgy about this email. If I purchase the database I then have to give them an update for free. No chance, not on your nelly. Or, not on your Hernán Cortés as they say over there.
7. We will send the product in electronic format and on CD-ROM. I have long held the belief that a CD-ROM is an electronic format, but this news excites me. I’m going to whack my copy of Revolver in a bagel and listen to it on the train to Tunbridge Wells.
