Tag: Stare

Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Have A Home Gym Instead Of A Membership

Are you tired of your blood pressure going through the roof every time you step foot into your gym due to the smorgasbord of annoyances on display? There’s something to ruin the day of any appetite. Why not avoid ever having to return there by creating your own gym at home? As if you needed them, here’s seven reasons.

1. The Smell. If you’re walking into a room filled with 50 other sweaty individuals in the various stages of a workout its unlikely that it’s going to smell like you’re visiting the body shop. Unfortunately this is an occupational hazard that is associated with the gym, and unless you want to hover around every machine spraying the seat cushions with Fabreeze you might have to grin and bear it. If you set up your own gym at home at least you can bang in the old Glade Plug in Fresh and work out until your heart’s content. If you get Lavender and Vanilla you can even shut your eyes and imagine that you’re working out in a sun basked meadow.

2. The Changing Rooms. Where to start with the changing rooms? The over familiar fellow gym members strolling around the room, determined to get that last bit of water from their ear with the corner of their towel? The bags hiding just out of sight, peeking out from under a bench and only making themselves known when they cause you to trip over, sending your Lynx Africa skidding across the floor in the process? The guys who seem to just like hanging out in their, bro-ing it up with all the other bros. Bro. At least in the comfort of your own home you can have a shower and get changed without feeling like you’re living in a mixture of Top Gun and a Butlin’s Strongest Man competition.

3. Equipment Hogs. There’s nothing wrong with someone getting full use of a piece of equipment. It’s their right. They pay membership fees just like anyone else. It’s when someone feels the need to simultaneously work three pieces of equipment at once, and then have the temerity to stare you down when you ask if they need that extra dumbbell that it can try your patience a little bit. If you have your own gym at home you’re unlikely to run into this predicament.

4. Grunting. Every gym has at least one. A grunter. Lifting weights doesn’t mean that you have to attempt to suck every litre of oxygen out of the room and then scream like Maria Sharapova fighting a Silverback Gorilla. Unless it’s you that is doing the grunting. In which case you should probably stop. I’m not sure people like it.

5. Sweaty Equipment. There is nothing more irritating than getting onto a machine only to discover that it is literally dripping in sweat. Guys, I’m looking at you for this one. No disrespect, but I’ve yet to see a woman leave a piece of equipment that looks as though it’s been used as a prop in the Flashdance chair scene. This won’t be an issue if you have your own gym at home. And if you don’t wipe your equipment down after you’ve used it at least you’ll only get drenched in your own sweat. Everyone like’s their own brand anyway. Don’t they?

6. The People Who Stare. Of the many gym personalities that you are likely to encounter, this one will put you on edge the most. Lurking around the equipment, watching you workout and perspiring more themselves than you ever could. As soon as you make eye contact with them they will slink away or pretend that they have been sent a text. It’s only upon closer inspection that you realise that they are trying to read a text message from their iPod. They NEVER seem to actually work out either. When you’re working out at home they are unlikely to be there. And even if they are you can just close the blinds.

7. Hoverers. You know the ones. You’ve been on a machine for a matter of seconds and they are hovering around it, shooting you ‘hurry up I’ve got to get back to the office’ looks. Too ‘polite’ to actually ask you how long you’re going to be, but not so concerned about time that won’t move onto another machine. You can’t even grab a drink of water because they will steal your machine on account of them being serial grave jumpers. Known to loudly chat on their phones about how they’re ‘stuck at the gym’. The annoyance that they cause is reason enough to take out a second mortgage so that you can afford your own gym. They will obviously be refused membership.

This post was written by Richard Hughes on behalf of the home fitness equipment distributor Orbus Leisure.

July 3, 2012
7 Reasons Not To Have A Staring Contest With The BBC One Ident Hippo

For one reason – which is why it doesn’t qualify for this site – I had to live pause the TV last night so that Claire and I could watch The Apprentice together. I paused the TV when the Hippo ident was showing. The exact point at which I paused is shown below. Knowing that I had at least fifteen minutes before I could press play, I had a choice. Start the ironing or have a staring contest with the hippo. I chose the latter. This is my story (of why it was a stupid idea).

1. Winning. From the moment I even contemplated staring at the hippo I knew I was going to lose. The only way I could have won is if we had had a power cut. (An unlikely scenario unless I was to attack the fuse box with a cucumber). And yet, despite being fully aware of the highly probable outcome, I still entered the battle. It was pointless, it was a waste of time and I was always going to finish second. Or last. Whichever didn’t come first really. For someone who enjoys winning it was a bizarre and futile decision that did me no favours. When the inevitable did happen a little bit of my aura had been destroyed. I’m was no longer the man I once was. So if you are ever tempted, don’t do it. You’ll never be the same again.

2. Distractions. A couple of minutes into the contest my phone rang. Now, even if I don’t answer my phone, I nearly always look at the display to see who I am going to ignore. It’s a habit. While on this occasion I was strong enough to ignore it, my mind was no longer on the job in hand. It was on who might be calling me. Was it Claire saying she’d be longer than she initially thought? Was it my Mum wondering where the rest of her Mother’s Day present was? Was it Marc wanting to sell me a baby? To this very minute I am not sure if my line of vision flinched towards my phone or not. It’s impossible to say. What I do know is, it did me no favours. When you are staring at a Hippo – especially a picture of one on the TV – you have to be in the zone and you have to stay in the zone. Distractions are zone killers.

3. Fish. I gave myself the benefit of the doubt. I told myself that my line of vision had not altered and so, if I was able, I may re-enter the zone. And, after a few minutes, that is what happened. I know this is what happened because my focus began to drift. The hippo was now a blurred hippo. And then the blurred hippo wasn’t a hippo at all. It was a fish. A fish in side-profile. A scary fish in side-profile. I mean this thing was ugly. It had a pair of lips Leslie Ash would have been proud of and a scaly body that reminded me of this. I am not sure this will work for you – in fact I am not sure I want it to work for you – but if you have a spare ten minutes just stare at the hippo above. If you’re unlucky the fish should appear across the lop of the hippo’s head. The lips appear in the hippo’s right eye if that helps.

4. Guilt. Having rid myself of visions of Piers Morgan and Leslie Ash’s illegitimate child, I then experienced severe pangs of guilt. The hippo was drowning. I had done that. I had paused the hippo and made him tread water. Twelve hours on I am pretty sure he wasn’t drowning at all. I am pretty sure this was pre-recorded footage and all I had done was paused its progress. But at the time, when you’ve been staring at a hippo for approximately thirteen minutes, that type of rational thought doesn’t enter your mind. You really do feel like a hippo murderer.

5. Terror. This is when you realise that the hippo is staring back at you. And he looks angry. Probably because you have made him tread-water for fifteen minutes. He also looks a bit like a crocodile with his nostrils protruding from the water. And that’s when you start panicking. Are you actually on BBC One? Are you sure you’re not watching – and recording – Animal Planet? Do you even have the Animal Planet channel? Is there even a channel called Animal Planet? So, yes. Staring at a hippo for too long makes you go mad. Really quite mad.

6. Visions. When Claire eventually arrived beside me on the sofa and gave me an opportunity to end my ordeal, I realised it wouldn’t be over for a little while longer. All the staring at a bright screen in an otherwise dark environment left me looking through those annoying colour blotches that you are only supposed to get when your eyes are closed. As one does in such circumstances I shut my eyes to try and get rid of them. This didn’t work. Instead I was faced with a vision of the hippo. In sort of a yellow and red mosaic. A mosaic that slowly began to disperse. Which is when I decided I was through and settled back to watch The Apprentice. With the occasional appearance from a fish.

7. Tea. I can barely bring myself to write the words. It went cold.

May 12, 2011
7 Reasons Robert George Dylan Willis MBE Scares Me

Last week we gave you seven compelling reasons not to watch the Cricket World Cup. How many of you listened to us? Probably not many. And I don’t blame you. I mean, I didn’t even listen to myself. I’ve watched every game so far. But that’s not because I am addicted to the sport, it’s because it constitutes research. It was suggested by Marc that we could write about the Cricket World Cup every Friday. It wasn’t a bad idea – every time we write about cricket we send shockwaves through India. So I agreed. Apart from the dodgy fielding, the one-sided nature of the games and the sparse crowds, the one constant has been former England paceman, Bob Willis. For seven days now he has been sat on the red sofa at Sky Sports scaring the hell out of me. Here’s why:

Don’t Let The Smile Fool You. The Real Bob Willis Never Smiles.

1. Focus. It’s a frightening sight. When the producer whispers, ‘Camera one Mr Willis’, in Bob’s ear, the robotic state is initiated. His head turns sharply to the camera. Like a Tyrannosaurus Rex who has just spotted his prey, Bob doesn’t even…

2. Blink. His eyes are wide as he stares down the camera lens. Deep, deep, deep into your lounge goes his glare. Deep, deep, deep into your soul. And then, his lips begin to move. In his…

3. Monotone voice, his monologue begins. His ability to maintain an unwavering pitch for so long is a remarkable feat of endurance. Though for a robotic devil fairly standard I imagine. On and on he drones. No matter whether he is impressed or furious, it’s the same tone. It’s hypnotic in its powers. I know what he’s trying to do. He’s trying to put me to…

4. Sleep. He wants my soul. He wants to sell it on eBay. “I must stay awake,” I tell myself. “Bob Willis must not be allowed to submit a fake bid for my soul in oder to bump up the price.” My eyelids are heavy, I try and reach for the remote control but I am not not going to make it. I’m drifting! I’m drifting! Then, suddenly, a saving grace. The shot zooms out. The vision of Robert Croft and Michael Holding is momentary relief. But then I notice the…

5. Giant of a man to their right. Bob Willis is huge! He looks like the BFG sitting on that Sky Sports sofa. I know he’s a giant because his knees are higher than his coccyx. He looks comfortable in his own uncomfortableness. This only scares me more. I can’t help but imagine him standing up. His head would be on the second floor. It’s the only time I hunger for a zoomed-in shot of Bob’s face. I don’t hunger for long, the producer adheres to my cries for mercy. Round two begins. He still wants my soul. I’m immediately drawn to his…

6. Lips. Not in a sexual way. In the way I would watch a goldfish open and close his mouth. And then I actually start listening to what he is saying. And I find myself agreeing with him. Bob is right. You just can’t afford to make that kind of mistake at this level. Oh good gracious me! Bob Willis is making…

7. Sense. And this is the scariest thing of all. Already this year I have found myself agreeing with Boycott. What is happening to me? Am I becoming their bitch?

February 25, 2011
7 Reasons That Anatidaephobia Must be Awful
Anatidaephobia is the fear that wherever you are, whatever you’re doing, a duck is watching you. While some people might see this debilitating condition as funny, we do not. We realise that it must be bloody awful, here are seven reasons why.

1. It’s Not Taken Seriously. People are often crass, insensitive and immature. While they would shy away from mocking the sufferers of other phobias they think nothing of making fun of anatidaephobes, solely for their own puerile entertainment and amusement. Well at 7 Reasons, we’re bigger and cleverer than that. We know what not to show an anatidaephobe.

This is what not to show an anatidaephobe.

2. At Home. Anatidaephobes must find it terribly difficult to cope at home. After all, they’ll believe that when they’re there a duck is watching them. And how is anyone supposed to relax with a duck watching them? And how are they supposed to tell if a duck is watching them or not when they’re suffering from snow-blindness? Or soft-furnishing-induced vomiting.

3. Escape. So they’ve got a duck staring at them at home. What to do? What to do? Get away from it all, that’s what. Get away from the daily grind, the endless plates and pitchers, the white stuff all over the place, the searing pain in their eyes, the duck that may or may not be there staring at them and head off on holiday. To somewhere far, far away from the many, many cups and saucers and the sinister duck.

4. Having A Lovely Time, Wish You Were…Oh…You Are. Well, apparently to anatidaephobes, flying isn’t a barrel of laughs either. But a journey in an aircraft is a temporary annoyance – unless it plummets from the sky in a fiery ball and hurtles at several hundred miles an hour into a mountain, in which case it’s a more permanent irritation – and, having escaped the duck at the aeroplane window, the travelling anatidaephobe can finally emerge from the aircraft all set to begin their relaxing holiday in Osaka.

5. Look On The Bright Side. Well okay, Osaka may not be as relaxing at they’d hoped. But sufferers of anatidaephobia can console themselves with the thought that the big yellow duck isn’t real, and it’s not like ducks hang around in large gangs. That would be terrifying.

Yes. This would be terrifying.

6. It’s Still Not Being Taken Seriously. Well it seems we’ve been rumbled. There does appear to be a series of images in this post that would be terrifying to anyone with a fear of ducks and, if you’re an anatidaephobe that’s made it this far down the page, we apologise for our silliness and can reassure you that there are absolutely no more photos of ducks in this post. It’s all just text from now on.
```
       ..---..
     .'  _    `.
 __..'  (o)    :
`..__          ;
     `.       /
       ;      `..---...___
     .'                   `~-. .-')
    .                         ' _.'
   :                           :
   \                           '
    +                         J
     `._                   _.'
        `~--....___...---~'
```
7. Comparison. Okay, that was a cheap shot (which is great as there’s a global recession) and, you might reasonably ask, would we make fun of people who suffer from other debilitating ailments; people that are scared of the dark, for example, or the morbidly obese? And the answer is no, we probably wouldn’t. A series of pictures of the dark would be very dull indeed, and a post full of pictures of fat would be totally disgusting and would put everyone off their sandwiches. The good news, however, is that unlike the fear of the dark – or fat people – anatidaephobia isn’t real. It was made up by Gary Larson – he of The Far Side fame – so we can all relax now. Unless you’ve ever claimed to be an anatidaephobe or have been reading this piece through the gaps between your fingers, in which case you’re a simpering nitwit and we can heartily recommend this fine web page.
February 16, 2011
7 Reasons That Goats Should Stare at Men
I’m sure we’re all familiar with the film, The Men Who Stare at Goats, which is based on the work of a secret psychic military unit. But in that film they’re doing it wrong. Men shouldn’t stare at goats. Goats should stare at men. It’s obvious. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Men Are More Interesting Than Goats. This it not universal, as anyone who’s ever seen the queue in a Homebase on a wet Thursday afternoon or viewed the bits between the sport on Sky Sports will testify, but generally, it is true. After all, men build things; men wage war; men get drunk; and fall over; men morris dance. Goats on the other hand, do not. Goats stand; goats chew; goats stand some more; goats sit down. That’s pretty much it as far as goats go. If you want to know how relatively interesting goats and men are, just look at the internet. The ratio of men to goats depicted online is 999999999999999999:1*. The evidence is overwhelming.

2. It’s Less Dangerous For Them Than Staring At Women. Anecdotal evidence suggests that, in the UK, you are more likely to be physically assaulted in a pub car park by an addled simpleton enquiring, “Are you staring at my bird?” than in any other circumstance.** And this is a scenario that goats are just fundamentally ill-equipped to deal with. Rather than diffusing the situation by calmly and rationally replying, “Yes, but in a curious, rather than a lecherous way. Is her skin naturally that orange? Did she apply her mascara with a spoon? Shouldn’t someone be holding her hair back while she’s vomiting?” a goat would just stand there, being a goat. If they stared at women, our pub car-parks and city centres would be full of hyper-aggressive drunkards punching goats every weekend to the soundtrack of “leave him Gary, he’s not worth it”. No one wants that, except Gary. And he’s an idiot.

3. Conscience. In the modern secular age, where our notion of an all-knowing God and right and wrong are becoming ever more confused and blurred, we all need a little help and guidance every now and again. And what better way to make men consider their actions than by having a goat stare at them. After all, there are many, many things that you might conceivably do when alone that you would not do when a goat was looking at you. These include:
- Picking things.
- Scratching things.
- Rubbing things.
- Pulling things.
- Poking things.
- Looking at things.
- Other stuff with things.
Could you look at pornography if a goat was staring at you? No. Could you pick the pocket of a nun if a goat were staring at you? No. Could you have sex with a goat if a goat were staring at you? No.*** If goats stared at us, we’d live better lives.

4. Time-Saving. If you’re a man you’re probably thinking, I won’t have time to look after a goat. I have important things to do, I have trains to look at and pants to file and whatnot. But you’d be wrong. Your staring-goat would actually save you time as you’d never, ever need to mow the lawn again. Nor, if you already do this, would you need to go and chew the local playing field for half an hour every day, your goat could do that for you too. Being stared at by a goat is like being given the gift of time.

5. Education. Goats will get something from the whole staring at men deal too. They’ll learn from us. After all, goats haven’t evolved or significantly changed their lifestyle since they first appeared on the planet (unless they evolved from geese, in which case, well done goats, do carry on). By staring at men, they might learn to do something other than standing in a field and staring at men. They might evolve to use tools, to walk upright, to tell time or even learn to read books, instead of eating them. Goats will benefit.

6. Responsibility. This is not universally the case, but many men lack a sense of responsibility and really only get one when fatherhood is thrust upon them. But being the keeper of a staring goat would engender that sense of responsibility. After all, there’s nothing like having to feed something, teach it right and wrong (not to butt the television except when East Enders is on, not to gore the cat with its horns etc) to make you realise that you have other things to think about than whether your shoes are a slightly different colour to each other, or whether the light on the floor varies significantly over the 15cm gap between them causing them to appear different…Nope, it’s the light. Right, where was I? Oh yes, and the ladies will love you when they see you tenderly strapping your goat into the back of the car before setting off on journeys. They’ll see you as potential breeding material, so you’ll be more sexually successful. Though you will have to perform with a goat staring at you, good luck with that.

7. Trains. Men – despite the Clint Eastwood/John Wayne/Buster Keaton strong, silent stereotypes – are gregarious social creatures for whom being alone can lead to loneliness, and that lack of socialization can in turn lead to eccentricity, outright weirdness and a penchant for trains. The company of a staring goat would prevent men becoming lonely and developing strange habits, which would eventually lead to the demise of trainspotting as a pastime. It would probably also lead to the end of model aeroplane building and World of Warcraft, so bring on the goats, I say. Oh, and please send my next-door neighbour his first, as the sounds of his model trains are audible in my loft at night. And they interfere with me cataloguing my button collection.****

*This figure is made up. I don’t have time to count the internet just to illustrate that men are represented there in a far larger number than goats.

**It’s interesting to note that no one, ever, in the history of drink-fuelled, envy-inspired, pub car-park assaults has commenced proceedings by uttering the phrase, “Are you staring at my fiancé?”

***It would be the wrong way round, for a start.

****This is untrue. I wrote it for comedic effect, please, please, please do not send us any correspondence about buttons. No buttons. No!
January 26, 2011