Tag: Son

7 Reasons To Personalise Your Own Christmas Cards

With just a matter of weeks to go before Christmas, why not do things differently this year? Why not get organised and avoid the mad mid-December rush? One way to avoid the inevitable queue is to use Hallmark Cards and their online personalised Christmas card service. Need convincing? Time to read on.

1. From Me, To You. Let’s begin with the obvious. A personalised card is just that. Unique in every way. Unless someone else also writes, “Dear Lucy, Merry Christmas, Love From Samuel. PS: I’ll try not to put your wooden leg on the fire this year!”. But let’s be honest, that’s highly unlikely. A personalised card means more. It means you have actually given it some thought. It means you haven’t just run down to the petrol station and bought the last copy of that magazine with free Christmas cards attached. That’s the true spirit of Christmas right there.

2. Technophobes. If your parents are from an era before technology took over the world, why not have some fun with them this Christmas? On opening a card and seeing it printed, “Dear Dad, Love From Charlotte,” your father will almost certainly ask you how your name is printed inside. You can either tell him that you went around the country in search of a card with the name Charlotte in it – which will impress him and make him feel loved no end – or you can explain that it’s an intellicard. Basically, that’s a card that uses remarkable technology to decipher the name of both sender and recipient simply by touch. And yes, an intelligence is particularly good if you’ve just bought your Dad socks. Again. He’ll ignore his present and be baffled by the card for hours.

3. Something For All. Finding suitable Christmas cards for different people gets harder and harder each year. Using Hallmark’s personalised service though, you can be sure that you are going to get the right card for the right person. There are traditional cards for those who celebrate Christmas as a religious festival, bright and colourful cards for those who use it as an excuse to party and an OK magazine card for the celebrity addict in the family. Who, incidentally, should be shut in a room by themselves for the day. Probably with Katie Price’s latest picture book.

4. Attention To Detail. This reason probably applies for the more haphazard sex, but we won’t discount women. For many people a card is the last thing they think about buying. Usually five minutes before the shops close on Christmas Eve. As a result they fly into the nearest retailer and pick up the first one they see. Then they get home and realise it says ‘sister’, ‘aunt’ or ‘my little fantasy’ instead of ‘wife’. Not good. Get online and use Hallmark’s personalised Christmas cards service. It’ll help you concentrate the mind and make sure you won’t spend most of Christmas morning trying to cover up the word ‘secretary’ with a felt tip pen.

5. Children. Toy manufacturers make a killing at Christmas. Not literally, obviously. As Herod demonstrated, that would be wrong. We mean they make a lot of money. Simply by making children want toys they don’t need. It’s genius. But very expensive for the parents. So this year don’t give them a present. Give them a card that’s better than a present. Thanks to Hallmark Cards your child can now star alongside Woody and Buzz on a Christmas card. Your children won’t want a present, they’ll want to know when Toy Story 4 is coming out. (It should be said this will only work with young children. By the time they’re 24 they’re fairly wise to that sort of thing).

6. Words and Pictures. Why is it that whenever you find a card with a half-decent design, the words inside always read, “Merry Christmas to the one I love, you keep me warm and snug on the sheepskin rug”? Similarly, you might find a verse that doesn’t make you vomit all over the card rack, but the front of the card says, “To my step-mum’s sister’s daughter’s boyfriend”. You can’t give that to your brother – unless he is your brother we suppose. It’s far better to get online, choose the design you want and write the wants you need to say.

7. This Is Us! You know those sickly yearly newsletters that you in get in Christmas cards from some families – the one that tells you Tarquin went Zambia on his gap year and set up a water buffalo sanctuary – well, a personalised card is perfect retribution. On many of the cards you can add a photo, and with so many photo editing packages out there it would seem rude not to show the smug ones exactly where you’ll be that Christmas. Nestled above an accompanying photo should be the words, “Merry Christmas From Sir Richard Branson’s Private Island!” That’ll shut them up. They’ll probably take you off their Christmas card list too. That’ll save a stamp.

October 30, 2011
7 Reasons To Name Your Son Byron

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.

March 24, 2011
7 Reasons to be…an Icetalian!

I’ve often been told that I’m more Italian than English. I like coffee, tiramisu and risotto more than I like tea, trifle and Yorkshire puddings; I like Fiat 500s more than I like Minis; I like sun more than rain; I like waving my arms around more than I like…er…not waving my arms around. All the signs are there. But last week I had a bit of a revelation. As I was celebrating March 1^st (and the end of my traditional February abstinence) a friend tweeted me. March 1^st is Beer Day in Iceland, he informed me. That’s funny. March 1^st – the first day of the month that has my name at the start of it (this is Marc, by the way, not Jon. The month with his name in it is Jonuary) – is my Beer Day too. Perhaps I’m not just Italian, I thought, perhaps I’m part-Icelandic too. Maybe I’m…um… an…Icetalian! From Icetalia! Even if I’m not, here are seven reasons that I should be.

1. What’s in a Name? Is there a cooler word than Icetalian? Well, perhaps mantacular or shabazzle, but they’re only really words in my head. If you stack Icetalian up against actual words that other people would recognise it comes out rather well. It contains ice, which is an actual cool thing, and talian, which isn’t a thing at all, though it still manages to be evocative of Vespas and sunglasses. If you’re an Icetalian you’re instantly cool. It’s like being named Jet or Raffaela.

2. Cuisine. Icetalian food would be the best fusion-cuisine in the world. Italian cooking is already renowned the world over, featuring tiramisu, pasta, tiramisu, risotto, tiramisu, ice cream, tiramisu, bean stews, tiramisu and tiramisu. In short, it’s awesome. How, you’re probably wondering, can that be improved? Well, Icelandic food consists of salted fish, salted lamb, more salted fish and some other salted stuff. So essentially Icetalian cuisine would be Italian food but with more salt. And salt, as we know, improves all food. Has anyone with a tall white hat ever stuck a spoon in a pan and, on tasting the contents, said “Hmm. I think it needs less salt”? No, of course they haven’t. Everything always requires more salt. Even salt, probably.

3. Sightseeing. What’s the most famous tourist attraction in Iceland? No, it’s not Kerry Katona’s prawn ring, it’s the Icelandic Phallological Museum; that’s right, a whole museum devoted to the penis. But Iceland’s a cold place, whereas Icetalia (which would have a more temperate climate halfway between that of Iceland and Italy) would be much warmer. This would make the Icetalian Phallological Museum twice as impressive as the Icelandic one, even though it would have the same number of exhibits.

4. Expression. Italians are a voluble and wildly expressive people who, in conversation, communicate as much with their gestures as they do with their words. The people of Iceland, being rather more reticent Scandinavian types do not. They prefer to emote by not expressing anything at all. Ever. Icetalians would be a happy and healthy blend of these two styles of expression. If it goes right, they’ll be similar to the English and will express themselves in a physically moderate and understated way, and if it goes wrong then during conversation half of the average Icetalian’s body will remain absolutely, rigidly still while the other half will be an exuberant, wildly-flailing blur of expression that could resemble Riverdance: Officially The Stupidest Thing In The History Of The World.* I’m hoping that it will be the former, obviously. A land where people communicate with each other via the medium of Riverdance: Officially The Stupidest Thing In The History Of The World would be dreadful. And deafening.

5. Venice. I love Venice. It’s bloody marvellous. If they (whoever they are) were taking nominations for an eighth wonder of the world, I would nominate Venice. But the Icetalian Venice would be even better, because it would be almost exactly the same as the Italian version, but with ice skating during the winter months and sleighs instead of gondolas. And there’d be fewer American tourists because they’d fall through the ice. It would be a true winter wonderland as well as being a summer one.

6. The Flag. The Icetalian flag would contain the colours red, blue, green and white. That’s all of the primary colours on one piece of cloth plus white, which is the colour of nothing when the lights are on. It doesn’t contain black, which is nothing in the dark, but you can’t have everything. Though with all of the primary colours, perhaps you can. In any event, the Icetalian flag will clash with just about every imaginable outfit so nationalism will be kept to a minimum. It’ll be a nicer place to live.

7. Names. Icetalians would have better names than just about everyone else. In Iceland, the tradition is that the first name of the father becomes the surname of his sons and daughters. Thus the daughters of Gudmund Magnusson get the surname Gudmunsdottir, and the sons of Gudmund Magnusson get the surname Gudmundson. Why this doesn’t lead to irresponsible people giving their children the first names Son and Alison, I don’t know. Then, if their children did the same thing (any why wouldn’t they?), they’d end up with grandchildren called Son Sonson and Alison Sondottir. Within several generations, the Icelandic telephone directory would contain names likes Alison Sonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsdottir and Son Sonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonsonson and would be visible from space. It would be brilliant. Why no one from Iceland had ever invited me to name anything I don’t know. Icetalian names would also be amazing (and only slightly shorter). Icetalian people would be called things like Ambrosiano Giordanoson and Ausilatrice Zoccolittosdottir. This would make introducing people to each other much more fun and ink manufacturers would be the richest people in the land. Oh, and this would also mean that school would finish at about the same time that the calling of the register ended, so teachers wouldn’t have to prepare lessons and children wouldn’t have to sit through them. The people of Icetalia would be thick, but happy. And work in my ink factory. I’m moving to Icetalia, it’s going to be brilliant!

*And now that I’ve mentioned it, how did Riverdance: Officially The Stupidest Thing In The History Of The World even come about? Someone must have done it first. Why didn’t other people just point and laugh at them? And who the hell was the second person to do it? Who, on witnessing someone clippity-clopping about like a deranged horse with a broomstick up their bottom and total paralysis of the arms and head, would think I want to dance like that person? There is nothing about Riverdance: Officially The Stupidest Thing In The History Of The World that makes any sense. At all.

March 7, 2011
7 Reasons To Name Your Son Troy

1. Looks. When you think of the name Troy, you probably think of the film which starred Brad Pitt as Achilles. Or Stingray which starred Troy Tempest as a puppet. Both are handsome chaps so I am told. (Troy Tempest – who went on to be Scott in Thunderbirds – was modelled on James Garner). Even if your son is a bit odd looking in reality, he will be sex on legs by association.

2. Meaning. Troy means ‘descendant of a footsoldier’. If he has pride in his heritage you won’t have to waste money on blister plasters.

3. Brand. The name Troy is ready made for a multi-national corporation. You can imagine your son growing up to be the new Donald Trump. Troy Towers. Troy Holidays. Troy Trains. And the really good news is that www.mynameistroy.com is currently available.

4. Respect. The name is cool. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. In a class full of Jacks and Toms and Richards, Troy will stand out. Everyone will want to be his friend. He’ll probably be the new Danny Zuko.

5. Intimidating. As well as being a cool name, it will also make people cower. ‘I am Troy’ sounds so much more demanding than, ‘I am Justin’. We don’t live in a perfect world. People will look at Troy’s CV and think, ‘I better employ this guy or else he’s going to come looking for me.’

6. Friends. Parents of Troy’s friends will immediately suspect you as being weird for giving your son such a bizarre name. I accept that this may not sound like a convincing reason, but surely it is better for them to think you are weird and then discover you are not than to think you are normal and then discover you are in fact loons.

7. Mother-in-law. This doesn’t affect me so much as I have a habit of getting on well with mothers, but if you do dread the idea of visiting the mother-in-law I imagine calling her grandson Troy will mean you are only invited round once a decade.

March 10, 2010