7 Reasons

Tag: Tent

  • 7 Reasons To Take A Spoon To Bed

    7 Reasons To Take A Spoon To Bed

    As can sometimes happen I forgot about my 7 Reasons duties this morning. In something of a panic I asked the whole of twitter for requests. The one reply I got was, ‘7 Reasons Not To Forget 7 Reasons’. I started but it soon became obvious that there were plenty of reasons to forget 7 Reasons and only one – a Marc shaped one – not to. Thankfully, lady luck was on my side as regular guest writer, Dr Simon Percy Jennifer Best, updated his twitter feed with, “I’ve just found a spoon in my bed”. Dr SPJB went on to question why it was there, but he didn’t need to. The doctor, as with all doctors, is a genius. There are many reasons to take a spoon to bed. Here are just seven:

    7 Reasons To Take A Spoon To Bed
    The Philosophy Of Beds & Spoons by Dr Simon Percy Jennifer Best

     

    1.  Have Your Cake And Eat It. That’s right, with a spoon as your bed companion, not only can you take cake to bed, but you can eat it. I’ve never quite understood this idiom. Who has cake but doesn’t eat it? That would be stupid.

    2.  Defence. All sorts of things can happen when you are asleep as anyone who has seen Fantasia will confirm. The last thing you want is to be attacked by a collection of broomsticks while you are unarmed. Good then to have a spoon to defend yourself with. Threatening enough to help protect you, but not dangerous enough to destroy the house when you swipe at imaginary buckets. Or a shaved lamb.*

    3.  Self-Esteem. We all have times when we go to bed and can’t sleep. More often than not this leads us in to a state of worry. Women worry whether they are too fat or too thin. Men worry about relegation. While a spoon won’t help keep Aston Villa in the Premiership, it will certainly help a woman sleep peacefully. Think you’re too fat? Look at the back of the spoon. Think you’re too thin? Look at the front of the spoon.

    4.  Uri Geller. Quite why our bodies feel the need to wake us up in the middle of the night is anyone’s guess, but sometimes we find it impossible to drop off back to sleep. Indeed, the harder we try, the harder it becomes. In such situations the TV becomes our sole-mate. In the good old days Channel 5 used to show live baseball. Now they just show rubbish. Including Uri Geller. Still, at least if you’ve got a spoon in bed you can join in.

    5.  Dribble. If like me, you dribble in the night, having a spoon in bed would be really useful. Instead of turning the pillow over and letting the dribble seep into the sheet, you can spoon it into a bucket. Yes, you’d have to take a bucket to bed too.

    6.  Tent. We’ve all gone to bed with a torch and a comic and hidden under the duvet. I do it every Sunday. It’s pretty realistic to camping on Mount Everest. Just fewer yetis. The one thing I always lack though is something to prop the tent up. For any length of time at least. Assuming I take a big spoon I could use that. A big spoon would also be helpful if I wanted to reach something that I otherwise couldn’t. My girlfriend’s perfume for instance. I don’t wear it, but spraying a little bit on the fire really helps it. Obviously I don’t let it get out of control. If it starts burning the mattress I spoon a bit of dribble onto it. Usually does the trick.

    7.  Waterbed. I’ve never quite seen the attraction of a waterbed, but I could be tempted if I was allowed to take a spoon with me. Let’s be honest, the bed could quite easily burst. Floating out of the bedroom and whitewater rapid rafting down the stairs is not my idea of fun. If I had a spoon though at least I could use it as a paddle.

    *The shaved lamb wasn’t in Fantasia. Just my bedroom.

  • 7 ‘Other’ Reasons It Would Have Been A Really Bad Day

    7 ‘Other’ Reasons It Would Have Been A Really Bad Day

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

    7 'Other' Reasons It Would Have Been A Bad Day For Him

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

  • 7 Reasons The Weekend Just Gone Could Have Been Better

    7 Reasons The Weekend Just Gone Could Have Been Better

    Providing you are doing this properly, you will be reading this on Monday morning. And providing you are doing this properly, I will be in the car returning from V Festival. Which is why I am writing this on Thursday afternoon. And as I am writing, I am quietly confident that I am not going to get stuck in a portaloo during a hurricane. But this is naive. I almost certainly will have done. And I will also have experienced a further seven disasters.

    Muddy Boots

    1. Wellington Boots. They are new. Green and new. At least they were. No doubt I am now wearing someone else’s boots. I almost certainly left them outside of the tent on Saturday night only for the V Festival swap-shop parade to pass through my patch of field at 4am and decide I could do with an older pair. A pair with holes in. And talking about holes, my…

    2.  …Inflatable Mattress will contain at least one by now. Don’t ask me how I did it. I probably sat on it wrong or decided to try and deflate it with a plastic fork. As a result, I probably didn’t sleep very well and decided that I would be better off getting up ridiculously early and visit the…

    3.  …Portaloos. Which, while not a complete disaster, was a bit like playing a game of Russian Roulette. And, because I have a habit of shooting myself in the foot, I will almost certainly have ended up walking in to the portaloo which contained the man wearing nothing more than a…

    4.  …Mankini. Thankfully, I don’t hang around long enough to get one of my own and before you know it I am running back to my tent. Which is of course now my…

    5.  …Lost Tent. Having forgotten to bring my compass with me, I am left to navigate via the sun. Which of course blinds me and so I spend half the time picking myself up after tripping over approximately 33 guy ropes. I am now covered in mud, beer, thai chicken curry and maybe have the odd syringe protruding from an arm. I head for the…

    6.  …Showers. They were cold. Very cold. So cold in fact that I get accused of being in the wrong sex’s showers. Probably by the mankini seller. By the time I make it back to the correct tent, the…

    7.  …Queues for breakfast are already heading out of Chelmsford. I suppose I should have just been using the gas stove, but I broke that on Friday morning while packing the car. Along with next door’s cat.