Tag: Tree

7 Reasons To Stone The Crows

1. Farmers. I have never been a farmer, lacking as I do the necessary sheepdog and accompanying whistle. I imagine, though, it must be tough work. Tiring work. Frustrating work. Especially if you have ploughed your field and sowed the seed only to see a flock of crows engulf the scene. It’s at this point when you have a choice. Allow them to eat your livelihood or revert to the stones. Whichever you choose, you also need to invest in a better scarecrow. *

2. Rivalry. If you live in the city of Adelaide, Australia, you may well support Port Adelaide Football Club in the AFL. In doing so you immediately have a rival. They are across town and are called the Adelaide Crows. You may take exception to defeat at the hands of your nemesis and wish to take matters into your own hands. To, you know, bring some pride back to your end of town.*

3. Attack. Picture the scene. You are walking along the street, minding your own business, when an armoured vehicle rocks up next to you with crows on its roof. And when I say crows, I mean a Common Remotely Operated Weapon Station. You know, one of those things that you can mount a machine gun on and then operate from the comfort and security of the driver’s seat. If this happens you need to get prepared. If he starts firing you need to use whatever means you can to fight back. And chucking stones at the crows might be your only hope. Good luck.*

4. Words. The collective noun for crows is a murder and, if we take that as some sort of corrupted historical instruction, we should be killing them. Now, shooting them would probably be the best way to do this but, as most of the 7 Reasons readership is based in the UK, there probably aren’t that many gun-owners among us. This would leave us furiously hurling bullets at them (which would be expensive) or desperately searching for alternate methods of killing them. Though they live in trees and rope is in plentiful supply from chandlers all around our island nation, hanging them isn’t practical as crows can defy gravity. Basically they’d just flutter about for a bit then fly back to the branch we’d hanged them from so, in essence, we’d just be tying crows to trees. Where they live anyway. This really leaves stoning as the only viable option.

5. Australia. In Australia, where the phrase stone the crows is said to have originated – or should that be aboriginated – the crows eat lambs. That’s right, lambs. Now I haven’t been too close to Australian lambs, but they seem like quite sizeable creatures to me. And frankly, if I lived in an upside-down land where large black birds were capable of swooping up from the sky below me and killing animals that are the size of human babies (which apparently have enough to fear from dingoes over there as it is), I’d be ready to stone them too. Or I’d go even further and rock them. What’s more, being English, my throws would have a better chance of hitting them than the natives’ efforts.***

6. Do The Right Thing. Crows are the proper animal to stone. I – before I corrected a spelling mistake – spent an earlier paragraph exhorting you, the reader, to stone the cows. But cows are definitely not an animal that you should be stoning. They’re large – surprisingly fast – and would probably become quite cross if you were to hurl stones at them. Not to mention the possibility of being shot by a furious and ruddy-faced farmer. Stoning cows is wrong. Stoning crows is right.

7. Kia-Ora. Remember the Kia-Ora advert where crows impersonate a hobo-child’s dog to relieve him of his Kia-Ora, despite his protestations that it’s too orangey for them? You’ll know if you’ve seen it, the music will still be reverberating round your head over twenty-five years later ready to surface when you least expect it to. Or want it to. Which is never.

Enjoy!

And now we all probably want to stone the crows.

*7 Reasons would like to point out that we do not condone the stoning of crows whether they be real crows, the Adelaide Crows or the Common Remotely Operated Weapon Station.**

**No, on second thoughts, fuck them. Stone away.

***We can probably keep this up until the next Ashes series in 2013.

January 17, 2011
7 Reasons That I Won’t Be Sending My Christmas Cards Until Christmas Eve

It’s almost Christmas and one of the aspects of the festival that I hate the most is writing Christmas cards. But I’ve come up with a cunning plan for dealing with them. This year, I won’t be sending any Christmas cards out until Christmas Eve. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Space. When you’re buying your stamps or posting your cards, the post office on Christmas Eve is a far more convivial atmosphere than the post office on December 18^th. When I’m posting my cards tomorrow, I’m going to be alone, with just the post office staff wearing their Santa hats and antlers, and eating their mince pies, (which they’ll probably share with me). And, instead of being stuck in a long mazy queue of grey people coughing, I’m going to have space to stretch my arms out and spin around. And that’s what I’m going to do; just because I can. And because it’s less cruel than swinging a cat.

2. Time. Leaving the cards until the last minute will have other benefits too. Had I written my cards early I’d have spent lots of time writing them out neatly, but I didn’t do that this year, and now that Christmas Eve is almost upon us, I’m doing the Christmas cards as a rush job. So that’s a lot less time that I’ve spent writing cards: Time that I was able to use more productively. I didn’t obviously, I spent it mulling things and playing Angry Birds. I also photoshopped a hat onto the statue of liberty. But it’s still time saved.

3. Inclusivity. It’s more inclusive if I send my cards on Christmas Eve. After all, I’m notoriously forgetful, but I know who I’ve received a card from because there’s a bushel of them in the living room. Or a gross. Or a flock (I have no idea how quantities of cards are measured), so it’s easy enough for me to work out who’s sent them and reply. So if you’ve sent me a card, you’ll get one in return: And if you haven’t, then you won’t. Obviously if anyone else is using the same system as me then that’s unfortunate, but if they are, that would benefit the…

4. Environment. That the Christmas cards I’ve sent won’t be received until after Christmas is good for the planet. Because no one sends out a Christmas card after Christmas, so people won’t send out any cards in reply to mine. So there’ll be less wasted paper, and I’ll have less recycling to do in January. Which is great, as the first recycling day of the New Year is usually like some sort of glass-themed labour of Hercules, but without Hercules and starring me instead.

5. Blame. And no one even need know that their cards weren’t sent until Christmas Eve (unless they’re reading this. Damn) because what’s the default opinion on the Royal Mail in this country? It’s that they’re hapless and inefficient. That’s not strictly true. Most of the time, they’re dedicated people doing a fine, and quite thankless, job, but they’ll automatically get the blame for the tardy arrival of my cards anyway. But that’s their problem and I don’t mind using it to my advantage. After all, I’ve never been stupid enough to change my name to Consignia and they have.

6. How To Win Friends And Influence People. When no card arrives before Christmas, friends, family and acquaintances will probably think “The bastard! He hasn’t sent us a folded over piece of paper with a picture of a fat, bearded man on the front and some illegible scrawl within! How could he do this to me?” But then, when the card turns up a few days after Christmas (“bloody post office”) they’ll feel loved and wanted again. And they’ll feel bad for thinking ill of me, which they’ll probably compensate for by being even more well-disposed toward me than usual. So if I keep doing this every Christmas, people will eventually feel so much affection for me that they will probably erect statues of me when I’m in my old age. I could get canonized! I could become the next Princess Diana!*

7. Finances. I won’t need to buy cards until the last minute, by which time I’ll know exactly how many I need. So none will be wasted. So I’ll be saving money. That’s money that I can spend on other Christmas things like candles that get brought out once a year that nobody ever lights, or those owl baubles that my wife saw (because nothing says Christmas more than a rodent-terrorising bird of prey hanging from a tree). By leaving the cards until the last moment, I’m going to be better off financially, and I’m going to benefit in many, many other ways too. I’m a genius! A mean genius. I’m a meanius!

*But my mother-in-law won’t be on the stamps.

December 23, 2010
7 Reasons Not to Leave Wrapping Your Presents Until Christmas Eve

Leaving your gift-wrapping until the last-minute is never a good idea. Here are seven reasons why.

Jonathan always uses paper bearing the traditional Christmas gift horse.

1. Reminders. The last thing you want to be doing is sitting in the study wrapping – while rapping along to Wham! – when your loved one knocks on the door and laughs, ‘I hope you haven’t bought me that handbag!’ You look down to see a pair of thick, woolen Rudolph socks. Oh no! She (or he) wanted that handbag. You look at your watch. It’s 5pm. There is no way you can make it to John Lewis now. If only you’d started wrapping on Tuesday. She (or he) could have reminded you then and you could have rectified the situation. Now you’re are going to have to steal one of her (or his) handbags and wrap that up. With the socks inside. Then you’re going to have to get her (or him) really, quite drunk.

2. Paper. However much wrapping paper you buy, it is never enough. It doesn’t matter if you raid your local WHSmith and buy every single roll going, it will never be enough. It’s one of those stupid Christmas rules. Come 11pm on Christmas Eve you have two presents left and no paper. Which is why come Christmas Day many are presented with a gift wrapped in a House Of Fraser bag. Or some printer paper. Or the Daily Telegraph. Though in that particular case I suppose the present was a copy of The Daily Telegraph. Some people like sudukos. The solution is simple*, wrap your presents before Christmas Eve, then when you run out you can go and buy another roll. It works. Though given you wrapped up days in advance you’ll probably have bought six rolls too many. Still, that’s Christmas for you.

3. Sellotape. Because you have no idea where the Sellotape is kept, and you’ll have to ask your partner where it is. And they’ll know that you’ve left wrapping their present until the last minute. And you’ll know that they know. And they’ll know that you know that they know. And you’ll know that they know that you know that they know that you know that they…no, I’ve forgotten. It definitely involved guilt, stationery and repercussions though.

4. Celebration. Christmas Eve is a festival in and of itself. And, having celebrated copiously and extravagantly, the last thing you want to be doing is staggering home in the snow to wrap your presents as, by this point, you may well have imbibed more mulled wine and port than…well…anyone else. Ever. Essentially wrapping presents in this state is a tiresome chore which soon degenerates into screwing large sheets of paper round random objects, with only one eye open and your tongue poking out with concentration while you lie on your side on the dining room floor. It also leads to…

5. Breakages. And you don’t want to break things on Christmas Eve. You don’t want to break yourself because it’s busy at the hospital and having to drive you there is annoying to your friends and family. And you certainly don’t want to break the expensive and fragile blue glass vase that constitutes your then-girlfriend’s main present at 11:30pm on Christmas Eve because it’s too late to replace it. So you’re left with a choice: You either wrap up the remains anyway and express shock and surprise that it’s broken when she opens it the following day, or you explain to her that you broke it while you were wrapping it because you blacked out for a moment while looking at a mince pie and fell off the chair. I chose the former option, naturally.

6. Garages. Despite what people may believe, a garage is not a limitless Santa’s grotto. The flowers are usually gone by lunchtime on Christmas Eve, the Chocolate Oranges by 4pm and the CDs of Cliff Richard’s Greatest Hits by 6pm. So what are you going to do when at 9pm you begin to wrap up your lover’s presents only to realise that he/she has bought you double the number? You can’t get a box of fire-lighters. They still have some left from last year. A free car-wash seems futile given that the car will get dirty again driving back. A new can of petrol is a fire hazard under the tree. A pint of skimmed milk lacks the festive spirit. You’re going to be screwed. So don’t do it. Don’t wrap on Christmas Eve.

7. Americans. For some reason best known to themselves, many Americans open their presents (which they insist upon calling gifts) on Christmas Eve. But what if you have an American coming over? Because if you haven’t wrapped your presents by Christmas Eve, muddleheaded ex-colonial types will want to open them before you’ve done so. And you know what will happen if they do that? They’ll just be removing stuff from boxes. All of the boxes. Because they won’t know which boxes are for them because they won’t have labels on because you won’t have done the labels because, let’s face it, if you haven’t done your wrapping by Christmas Eve you’re hardly likely to have made gift labels, are you? So your house will just be full of Americans removing all of your boxed-possessions and taking them. It would be like being burgled, except you’d have to give the burglars your mulled wine and make small talk with them while they burgled you, spelled things badly and insisted that science isn’t a real thing. And if that image hasn’t motivated you to wrap your presents right now, nothing will.

*Not the solution to the sudoku. Those bloody things are impenetrable.

December 17, 2010
7 Reasons That Carrier Bags are Baffling

The carrier bag might seem like a rudimentary bit of kit. Basic, functional, easy to understand. But it isn’t. Carrier bags are, in fact, among the most baffling things known to humankind. And by humankind, I mean me. Here are seven reasons why:

1. Because I Have Hands. People in shops are endlessly, needlessly trying to force carrier bags on me. But I don’t want one most of the time. Often, I’m just buying one or two items. And I don’t need a carrier bag in that circumstance. How many hands does it take to carry a single item? One. How many hands does it take to carry a bag containing a single item? One. So I don’t need a bloody bag, do I? It’s not difficult. And I already have a bag; it’s that thing I’m wearing over my shoulder that looks like a bag. But despite having both hands and bags, I am continually pestered to take the things. And I don’t know why.

2. Because They’re Everywhere. I always try not to take carrier bags, but despite this, my kitchen is full of the things. And every time I go in there, there are more of them. I don’t know how – or when – the rise of the bags began, but they are inexorably usurping our cooking space. We started off, like everyone does, with a bag of bags, and now we have at least a bag of bag of bag of bag of bags. Well, more than one, actually.

3. Because I Don’t Know What To Do With The Things. You might think this is the point where I’m going to make a few humorous and bizarre speculations on what one might do with a glut of carrier bags, but no, I’m not going to do that. This is because I’m totally bewildered and overwhelmed by my surfeit of them. I have no more idea of what to do with all the bags in the kitchen than I would have of what to do with a large, glittery, singing horse called Jemima in my dining room. Less, in fact. Or fewer?

4. Because Of Chavs. It seems that the only people that have any idea of what to do with used carrier bags are chavs. They put them over the seats of their rusty mountain bikes and tie them down to the seat-post. All of them do this. But I have no idea why. It’s not to keep their bottoms dry because they never remove the bag; even after rain. It’s a further level of bafflement.

5. Because They’re Not In The Same Condition I Left Them In. Occasionally, a rare and wondrous event occurs: I realise that I’m going to have to carry some presents to a friend’s house, or I’m going for a walk in the countryside and there might be blackberries to pick, and I find that I will actually need a carrier bag. And then I excitedly perform a brief, joyous dance – a bit like a jig – while singing repeatedly “I’m going to get rid of a bag, I’m going to get rid of a bag…” to the tune of A Life on the Ocean Wave. But when I come to use them, I discover that at least 50% of the bags are torn. But they weren’t torn when I put them into the bag of bag of bag of bag of bag of bags. So what the hell has happened to them in the meantime? Do they fight?

6. Because People Lie About Them. It’s not just that they’re all over my kitchen, mocking and taunting me, and confounding my every attempt to get rid of them that I find them baffling. It’s that people actively lie to us about the things. Don’t use carrier bags, environmentalists tell us; it’s wasteful; a lot of resources are used up in their manufacture; they don’t grow on trees. But this just isn’t true. Carrier bags do grow on trees. I’ve seen them. Just go outside and look at any urban tree and you’ll see the carrier bags growing on it. And we’re obviously using far fewer carrier bags than the trees are producing, because we’re not harvesting them with any regularity. That’s why there’s still a Woolworths bag growing in a tree near my house. Even though they went bust bloody ages ago.

7. Because Of The Holes. We all know why there’s a hole at the top of the bag. It’s to punish people that are stupid enough to try to put baguettes into them. But no one knows why there are holes at the bottom. Are they drainage holes? Is it a government conspiracy to prevent us from moving water about easily? Is it to prevent suffocation of animals, small children and Members of Parliament? Is it to stop me from inflating the things and then bursting them (with hilarious consequences)? Is it just to confuse us? Well, if it is, it’s working.

October 12, 2010
Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Make Sure You Renew Your Car Insurance

Another Saturday dawns and as it does a new writer appears on the 7 Reasons sofa. This week we welcome Chris Owens, who is probably just about the finest member of the Car Insurance team at MoneySupermarket.Com – the UK’s leading price comparison website. Right, that’s two sentences more than I should be writing on a Saturday, so without further deviation, I’ll hand you over to Chris.

Auto ©mxlanderos

I’m guessing most of you think you’re a reasonable enough driver – you’re pretty safe, tend to stick to the speed limit (most of the time), and have never had to make a claim in your life. But at the same time you’re sharing a road with a whole host of motoring mavericks and disaster-prone drivers that are a simply a car crash waiting to happen. Here are seven of the craziest (but true) car insurance claims ever made – and 7 Reasons you need to make sure you’re always covered:

1. Cars And Snow Aren’t A Good Combination. One cool customer thought it’d be easier and safer to take a taxi rather than risk venturing out on their own in heavy snowfall. Unfortunately, the clumsy cabbie skidded straight into the back of their parked car when he came to pick up his passenger.

2. Drivers Have Terrible Judgement. Anticipating traffic speed and giving yourself plenty of time to react are two of the first lessons you learn when you first start driving. It’s a shame that one unlucky bloke forgot these golden rules and caused a multi-car pile up because, in his own words, “I started to slow down but the traffic was more stationary than I thought”.

3. Buses Aren’t Reliable. You’ve pulled out of your driveway and set off for work first thing in the morning when you slam into the back of a bus picking up passengers. What’s your excuse, apart from you weren’t paying enough attention to the road? How about, “It’s not my fault, the bus is five minutes early” – strangely enough this motorist’s insurers didn’t see the funny side!

4. A Call Of Nature Can Cause Chaos. A driver was caught short and had to stop at the side of the road to relieve himself behind a row of bushes. When he had done his ‘business’, he returned only to find his car had gone. Just as he was telephoning the police to report the missing vehicle, he noticed some familiar looking tyre tracks heading down a hill. After running all the way down to the bottom of a grass bank, he found his car flipped on its roof and in need of some emergency repairs… someone had forgotten to put the handbrake on.

5. Life Is Full Of Tree-mendous Surprises. Many of us drive the same routes over and over again, so it’s no surprise we think we know our way home like the back of our hand. Sadly for one daydreaming driver, he reversed into the wrong house and crashed into what he charmingly described as, “a tree I don’t have”.

6. The Simple Law Of Gravity. It’s not too uncommon to see crazy pictures of cars crashing through the front window of a house, but what about when the roles are reversed? A house was being moved on a large lorry when it toppled over and fell off, straight onto the top a parked car. Only when the moving company finally owned up to its embarrassing mistake did the disbelieving insurance company actually pay up.

7. If All Else Fails, People Will Blame Absolutely Anything. And last but certainly not least, the black arts were the probable reason for an accident for one imaginative driver, who simply filled out an insurance claim form with the words: “Windscreen broken. Cause unknown. Probably voodoo.”

September 11, 2010