Tag: uk

7 Reasons To Give Someone A Hug

Did you know it was National Hug Day today? If you are reading this in the USA then you probably did. It’s quite big over there apparently. In the UK though, it has failed to catch on. In many ways 7 Reasons are indicative of this sad situation. We are more the high-fiving kind than the hugging variety. Today that changes though. Today we hug. And you should too. Here’s why:

1. Tactical. You’re waiting for a tube, a train or a bus. And you’re not alone. There are dozens and dozens of others doing exactly them same. So many in fact that there is no way you are all going to get on. There is no way you are hanging about for another thirty minutes for the next one though, so you need a plan. What will get you on that tube, train or bus ahead of everyone else? Save for a machete, it’s hugging. If you start hugging everyone in that queue their urge to get on that next tube, train or bus will begin to diminish. So much so that they’ll be very happy to let you get on and then wait in the pouring rain. Just in case hugging is only the start.

2. Approach. We’ve all been in the position of seeing someone we quite like the look of. Someone we’d like to say hello to. Someone we’d like to become friends with. Maybe more than friends if you are particularly horny. But one thing always stops us. We aren’t quite sure what to say. While ‘Hello’ always sounds like a promising opening, if you can’t back it up with something else you are opening yourself up to look like a lemon. You wish that they would just come over and talk to you. That would be fine. The problem is, they are full of the same doubts that you are. They don’t really know what to say either. Which is why you both walk on, never to see each other again. It’s an opportunity missed. If this sounds like you, you need to bring out the hug. The next time you see someone you like, just walk up to them and hug them. If they don’t respond, step away and look shocked, “Oh my goodness!” you exclaim, “I am so sorry. I thought you were someone else.” They’ll understand. If they do respond though, just keep that hug going. No talking will ever be required.

3. Annoy Uncle Marc. If you know one thing about Uncle Marc it’s that he doesn’t want a hug. He doesn’t want a hug from you and he certainly doesn’t want a hug from your children. He especially doesn’t want a hug from the child that just spilled milk all down her t-shirt and then pooed on the living room floor. Get that child to hug him. His face will be priceless.

4. Warmth. It’s easily done. You are walking along the banks of an icy river when a swan starts attacking you. In your scramble to fight back you end up in the icy waters. In a bid to avoid death and pneumonia, you make it back onto dry land. Keeping your freezing and soaking wet clothes on will do you no favours, so you quickly strip and protect your dignity with a swan’s wing. You then go in search of warmth. Bodily warmth. Fifty yards ahead you spy a man and woman out for a walk. Naked, you run towards them. They are too startled by the sight to move out of your way, leaving you to jump into their arms and regain that much needed heat.

5. Strength. What better way to show small children that you’re far more powerful than they are than to give them a bear-hug? And, as you wrap you powerful, grown-up arms around them and squeeze the very air from their lungs, they’ll be really impressed. Then they’ll file it away in their memory and return the favour when you’re an old man which, as no one ever wants to hug an old man, will be a welcome event for you. Even if it does lead to your first incontinent episode.

6. Surprise. Rather unfortunately you have just bumped into the side of someone’s Mercedes. It’s not all your fault, the brake on your skateboard fell off before you reached the top of the hill. There’s still damage though. To the car. And your Sony MiniDisc. The driver looks furious. He’s getting out of the car and his moustache is quivering with rage. You have a choice. A) Skate away leaving him and the pieces of your Sony MiniDisc on the floor. B) Apologize profusely, saying you’ll pay for the damage. C) Simply give him a big old squeeze. The chances are he’ll be expecting you to do either of the first two, so by hugging him you momentarily disarm him. Once this is done, you can apologize or skate away. Whichever it is, he’ll be standing in the middle of the road wondering what the hell just happened. By the time he has realized, you’ll be hugging some other bloke half a mile down the road.

7. Fun. I was once told that I hug like a murderer as I favour the one-handed hug (leaving my left hand free). Obviously, at 7 Reasons (.org) we’re not going to encourage you to use your free hand to stab the person that you’re hugging. That would be wrong* and potentially hazardous to you, should you be foolish enough to use a knife with too long a blade. At least you’d die in someone else’s arms though. But no, what you should use your free hand for is to affix a note to their back saying “I stole this coat from orphans” or “Please kiss me”. That’s the sort of thing that makes hugging worthwhile and rewarding. Who wants a hug?

*Not to mention the consternation that it would cause our legal representatives.

January 21, 2011
7 Reasons I Will Watch The X-Factor Next Year

Before 20 million of you groan, this isn’t one of those ‘The X-Factor is rubbish’ posts. I have long adhered to the maxim, ‘if you don’t like it, switch it off’. Which is something I have accomplished in every year previous to this one. This year though, I lived with one of the 20 million. Which meant I saw more of it than I really wanted to. Next year, though, it’s not happening. Unless these drastic changes are made.

1. Louis Walsh. Quite simple, he must stop being a twat. And by that I mean, he must stop being a twat. I like to be challenged intellectually, which is why I call my parents during the show. What I can’t stand is people stating the bloody obvious. And that includes Walsh saying, “Matt, you’re in the final”. Yes, obviously he’s in the bloody final. If Walsh stops repeating everything I can find out by pressing the ‘i’ on my remote control then I could be in for the long-haul.

2. Simon Cowell. This isn’t an anti-Cowell moment, the guy has created something that makes him a lot of money, well done to him. What he must do next year, though, is stop pretending he is actually making difficult decisions. If I want to watch over-acting I can watch the bloody-awful but painfully addictive Miranda. I want him to act like he does in the supermarket when faced with the choice of either an apple or a banana. There’s no pretence here. Cowell knows he wants the banana and so he grabs it. No dramas, he just gets the job done. If he brings this attitude with him next year, we have half a chance. Assuming he also does something with his hair.

3. Cheryl Cole. She must lose her right hand. Or, at the very least, it must be tied behind her back. I am very appreciative of the fact that she can’t help the annoying accent and the stupid comments, but she can stop doing that bloody salute. It makes her look like a camp toy soldier.

4. Dannii Minogue. She’s a bit like white bread. Nothing drastically wrong with her, just a bit plastic-y. I would much prefer something more substantial. Wholemeal bread. Or, as she is called in this case, Kylie. She’s just better in all areas.

5. Media Blackout. I don’t read the tabloids for a reason. I’m not interested in the soap opera of life and I like reading words that contain more than two syllables. I appreciate that’s two reasons, but, to be honest, there are probably five more. But that doesn’t matter. The point is, I don’t read them because I don’t like them. That is easy enough to do and you’ll be pleased to know I am very accomplished at not buying The News Of The World. The problem comes when every radio and TV show talks about it. I don’t think that’s fair. As things stand, I would have to emigrate to Venus to avoid all the nonsense spouted about the show. If there was a media blackout I’d happily go as far as Middlesborough. That sounds like a good compromise to me.

6. One Night Special. No dragging the series out for months on end. The show starts at 7pm on a Saturday night and is finished by 10pm. Contestants can’t sing for longer than thirty seconds each and every ten minutes someone is voted off. No, actually, they are shot.

7. Sports Round. I like sport, but it was seldom mentioned in the X-Factor this year. Next year, instead of the usual vote-off by the judges, there will be a sports quiz between the bottom two contestants. Hosted by Henry Blofeld. And you’ll be able to play along using the red button and throw popcorn at the TV.

December 14, 2010
7 Reasons to Love Snovember

It’s Snovember! Here are seven reasons to love it.

1. The Title. As a portmanteau word combining both weather and a month, Snovember works better than almost any other. In snow terms, its closest rivals are Snarch, Snuly and Snebruary, and although other weather events/months exist; Sune, Haily and Thunduary don’t even come close to Snovember for catchy, popular appeal and ease of pronunciation.

2. Effect. The snow buries things, which is excellent. Today it’s burying ongoing news stories such as the Irish financial crisis, higher rail ticket prices and other depressing news that we now have no chance whatsoever of hearing from the other side of the world, leaving us only with a vague sense that Ian Bell was very good and that there’s snow outside. Look! Snow! See the snow! Touch the snow! Smell the snow! Think only of the snow! It’s THE SNOW!!!

3. Thanksgiving. That’s right, it’s Thanksgiving day in the U.S. but now you won’t have to read about that here, because we’re far too excited by the snow to write about it. We don’t even know what they’re giving thanks for: Turkeys? Football? Macy’s? We don’t know, and we don’t care. Because it’s Snovember; we can see actual snow and because of that we won’t be hearing about turkeys on the evening news or anything else related to pilgrims or thankfulness that we don’t understand.

4. Safety. Councils in the UK tend to stockpile their grit in time for December and could potentially get caught out by the early snowfall but fortunately, as the wintry weather has come in Snovember, we have plenty of ashes* left over from bonfire night to spread on it. If the snow occurred in other months, we’d have had to cover it in tinsel, chocolate eggs or pumpkins; and falling over a pumpkin on your way to work is not the best start to the day.**

5. Indolence. The early snowfall gives everyone the excuse to do what they’ve really wanted to do since October and give up all outdoor exercise until the Spring. No rational person wants to go out running, cycling or canoeing during the cold half of the year and the snow is our opportunity to stop doing those things and concentrate on what we really want to spend the winter doing; which is eating our own bodyweight in Twiglets and drinking ourselves into a mulled-wine and sloe-gin induced stupor. We may all become hideously fat as a result, but the extra weight will just make us more stable in the snow and better protected when we fall over. Which will help offset the effect of the glühwein. And the winter Pimm’s.

6. Shopping. It’s Snovember! And rather than the snow reminding people that it’s Christmas soon and they need to go and do their shopping, it will prevent them from going out and buying Yule-related things. This means that we won’t have to devote as much time to arranging Christmas as usual and, even though we’ll now have less time to organise it, it will turn out exactly the same as every other year. And somehow, somewhere, it might just enter our thick skulls that we don’t need to devote a quarter of the year to organising bloody Christmas and it will happen anyway, regardless.

7. Preparedness. The trial run in Snovember will prepare us for winter proper. We’ll be able to get the annual bout of complaining that; our cars won’t work in un-driveable conditions, that the local council haven’t magicked the snow away, and that the entirely predictable snow in Sweden doesn’t cause chaos, out of the way and then get on with our lives as usual. Or we’ll just use it as an excuse to get in some extra complaining. Either way, we’re all benefiting from Snovember. In fact, we’re off to play in the snow right now. We’ve never even heard of cricket. It’s Snovember everybody! Look! Snow!

*We can’t emphasise enough how lower-case that entire word is.

**We’re not entirely certain about that, it might be bloomin’ marvellous, but we rather suspect that it may be a little undignified. Not to mention painful.

November 25, 2010
7 Reasons The UK Owes Ireland

If you are British, you may be asking why our Government is helping to bail out Ireland. Well wonder no longer. It is quite simple. Ireland has given so much to the UK. So much. We owe them.

1. Music. ‘Some people say I look like me dad. What?! Are you serious?’ As I am sure you are all aware, they are the very first lines of the B*Witched classic, C’est le vie. And it’s only by listening to those words that you can really appreciate just how good The Spice Girls actually were. And that has to be a worth rewarding, doesn’t it?

2. Alcohol. From Guinness to Baileys to Bulmers/Magners and back to Guinness again. The Irish know how to drink. Sadly, many Briton’s don’t, which is why…

3. Hurling – a pursuit played out on the fields of Ireland – has become particularly popular on the streets of the UK. Just after closing time. And that in turn is why the British paracetamol industry remains so strong. Thanks Ireland.

4. James Bond. It is not often said that Pierce Brosnan did for Britain’s finest secret agent what Nasser Hussain did for the England Cricket team, but it’s true. Both picked up a beleaguered enterprise and through sheer bloody mindedness and the help of their respective peers in the form of Dame Judi Dench and Duncan Fletcher, turned it into something quite beautiful. Or at least passable. Better than it was anyway. And for that we should be eternally thankful. No one wants to watch Licence To Kill followed by the 1989 Ashes highlights.**

5. Sir Terry Wogan. Not only did he provide a superior earful for the more sophisticated radio listener than say Christopher Moyles, he also made the debacle that is The Eurovision Song Contest relatively enjoyable. Mainly because he talked over both presenters and songs alike. While slowly getting sloshed on whiskey. And getting away with it. He also introduced me to Gina G. And when you are twelve you like that kind of thing.

6. Leprechauns. Oddly, and rather ridiculously in my opinion, the people of the UK seem to celebrate St. Patrick’s Day more than St. George’s Day, St. Andrew’s Day and St. David’s Day combined. But at least on 17th March Trafalgar Square is full of honorary Leprechauns instead of bloody pigeons.

7. Home Comforts. Wherever I have been in the world, I always find an Irish pub. Not on purpose, it’s just there. Being all Irish at me. And it’s a nice feeling. Not because it adds to the ambiance of the street, but because I know I’ve found somewhere to watch the rugby. And for that I have always been eternally thankful.

*e

**If ever you wanted an example of a reason where I start writing without an idea of where it is heading, this is it.

November 22, 2010
We’ve Moved!

It’s Sunday, so no reasons today. Here’s something different. Last week we brought you a tale of horror and woe, and this week we bring you…a tale of horror and woe, because we have an announcement:

We’ve moved! You may not have noticed yet, but we have. We’ve moved from Gloucestershire to Kent. Strange, the website doesn’t look any different, you’re probably thinking; I can’t see any oast-houses or Dover Castle or France, but I promise you that we’ve moved. We’ve changed our web-hosts from Fasthosts to EZPZ hosting.

And we hope the new web-hosts that we’ve moved to will provide you, the reader and us, the men who have spent many, many, many of the hours that they should have spent writing in the last year trying to get answers from Fasthosts about why our website wasn’t being hosted effectively, with a more reliable experience. As our experience with Fasthosts has been appalling.

In fact, we started monitoring our site’s uptime over the past few weeks, and it turns out that with Fasthosts, our site was working less than 99% of the time. Imagine if you had a car that wasn’t there 1% of the time when you came to use it. Or your house wasn’t there for over three and a half days out of the year, but you didn’t know when that would be, or that the sun vanished intermittently.

And it’s not just that the site would disappear while we were trying to read it; it would also disappear while we were trying to write it, which resulted in an awful lot of lost work. In fact, I’ve found myself spending a lot of time that I should have spent creating stuff and writing for the website monitoring its performance and corresponding with the web hosts.

As a result of the many support tickets that we have raised and the many questions we have asked them in the past year, Fasthosts have properly investigated our downtime twice. And they’ve come to the conclusion that there isn’t a problem at their end and that it must be our fault, which is strange as, since we’ve moved the website, it has been working for 100% of the time. Which rather undermines their claims.

It’s not just technical incompetence. A couple of days ago – we disabled the auto-renew facility some time ago – they tried to take money from my credit card to pay for web hosting for the coming year (something they didn’t have permission to do). Fortunately, they have the details of an old card and it didn’t go through.

Anyway, we’ve moved and we wanted our experiences with Fasthosts to have a home on the internet so that anyone thinking of using them and perhaps googling “Should I switch to Fasthosts”, “Are Fasthosts any good” or, “naked web hosting” (people search for almost everything pre-fixed by the word naked) would find this piece and would be forewarned.

Hopefully now, the 7 Reasons team will have less correspondence like this:

Jon,

I fully intended to forward any response on why we’re down to you. But, other than the initial automated (and pointless) response to our first email from Shithosts, there has been none. Nor have they replied to us via Twitter. This is on their webshite:

Websites hosted on 88.208.252.193 will currently be unavailable. Our engineers are investigating.

Update: 8:35: Our engineers have found the cause of the issue. However, it is likely that a resolution will require a server rebuild. We will restore all data from a recent backup and will update this page when further information and a completion time become available. Please accept our apologies for any inconvenience this may have caused.

This issue is presently under investigation:

Our ip address is 88.208.252.3:21so whether this applies to us is a mystery to me, I’ll update you as soon as I hear anything/they bother to reply/I turn up at their offices in Gloucester brandishing a weapon,

Marc.

P.S. Makes me really glad I spent 8 hours working on today’s post now.

P.P.S. Do you have backups of all of the posts that you uploaded yesterday?

P.P.P.S. We were on course to have one of our best Mondays ever yesterday. Before our site disappeared.

And more correspondence like this:

Jon,

The website is working fine. It’s nice here in Kent. Look, I can see deer strolling through the meadow next to the tiramisu farm. Would you like some beer from the perpetual fountain?

Marc.

In conclusion: If you are looking for web hosting. Never, ever use Fasthosts. They’re no good at web hosting, their customer service is woeful, they can’t be trusted with your credit card details and they’re expensive (our new hosting is almost two and a half times cheaper).

7 Reasons (.org) will return tomorrow; I can state with utter confidence.

November 7, 2010
7 Reasons That The Westbourne Bank Protest Was Stupid

In Britain, it’s often said that we’re not very good at protesting, and we’re always compared unfavourably with the French in that regard. But now, public protest in the UK has reached an all-time low because, last weekend, several men in Dorset bricked up the door of their local bank in what they claimed was a, “…protest against the reluctance of banks to lend money to small firms”. Here are seven reasons that their protest was stupid.

1. They Went To The Wrong Bank. The protesters wanted to brick up the door of the Westbourne branch of Natwest Bank because it had refused the group’s ringleader, Cameron Hope, a business loan. But, when they arrived at the Natwest, the police were nearby, so the group decided to brick up the door of a different bank instead. Barclays. Now, if I do something that irritates my wife involving…ooh…I don’t know…umm…a bicycle, for example, and I’m not there when she finds out about it – or I’m standing near the police – I wouldn’t expect her to go and yell at a different man. Because that would be crazy. And irrational. And yes, it would be much better if she did that, but that’s not the point. Bricking up the door of a bank that they didn’t have a legitimate grievance with is just mad. And counter-productive.

2. Prudence. Okay, so the bank turned down Cameron Hope’s loan application. What should he do? Scrimp and save, perhaps. Look at alternate ways of raising capital, or go to a different bank. I’m not a businessman, but I wouldn’t choose to demonstrate my financial acumen and creditworthiness to another bank by frittering my money away on costly building materials and then use them to construct a monument to my own profligacy on their doorstep. Because that’s not going to help. And it’s a lot of effort. He could have achieved the same effect by setting fire to twenty pound notes in front of the bank manager instead. Far less trouble.

3. Put Simply. The more money the bank has, the more they’ll lend, making it more likely that you’ll get a loan. Conversely: The less money the bank has, the less they’ll lend, making it less likely that you’ll get a loan. So if you brick the door of the bank up, customers can’t take their money to the bank, and then the bank can’t lend it to you. I realise that this is a highly simplistic, microeconomic description of banking, but I’m addressing it thus, to the protesters because of…

4. The Quote. The quote tells us that the protesters don’t understand how banking works at all, because one of the group stated to journalists, “You go into a bank and there’s nothing there, the bank’s open but the safe is shut.” This is his summary of his grievance with the banking system; and it doesn’t really bear much scrutiny. Because of course there’s nothing there. What does this man expect to find in a bank? Displays of money? Shelf upon shelf of alluringly-arrayed notes and enticing floor-displays brimming over with a boundless abundance of shimmering coins? And of course the safe is shut. It’s a safe. That’s its job. If the bloody things weren’t meant to be shut they’d be called something different. They’d be called unsafes. Or vulnerables.

5. Helping The Bank. The protesters bricked up the door of the bank on a Sunday: A day when all banks are closed. So this had no effect on the bank’s ability to trade. In fact, one of the major obsessions and expenses of any bank is security, and by bricking up the door – and thereby making it more difficult for robbers to enter the premises – the protesters actually helped the bank. Not to mention that their protest also brought the police along to stand outside in hi-vis jackets, which probably made the bank as safe as it’s ever been. And all at no extra cost to the bank. What are the protesters going to do next, try to bring down the Conservative party by voting for them?

6. Consequences. Though the protest didn’t have any serious consequences, it could well have done. The protesters could have endangered the nation’s economy. By bricking up the door of the bank, they made it likely that employees would have to enter and exit the premises via the windows. And, as history teaches us, bankers jumping out of windows is one of the worst economic indicators that there is. Worse even than Alistair Darling’s eyebrows. It’s the sort of thing that, if the media get hold of the footage, can shatter fragile economic confidence.

7. Achievement. As a protest against banking it doesn’t appear to have accomplished anything. I was in the centre of a city yesterday, and banking appeared to be going on pretty much unhindered by the protest. People in polyester uniforms were sitting around near potted plants in waist-high partitioned areas looking depressed, as usual. The cash machine outside was covered in the remnants of a McDonald’s milkshake, as usual. I wanted to thump over 90% of the people in the queue, as usual; even myself. So the protest has had no discernible effect on banking. Obviously, the protest brought an awful lot of free publicity for the property developer behind it, but that wasn’t the point. Because this was a protest against banking, right? And not some sort of tawdry self-serving publicity stunt?

September 30, 2010
7 Reasons to Buy a Popemobile

It’s the last day of the papal visit to the United Kingdom and, somewhat to my surprise, I’ve been inspired by it. I used to believe that the bicycle was the correct vehicle for the urban environment, or that a tank would be practical, but I now realise that I’ve been a fool. The correct vehicle for the urban environment is, in fact, a popemobile. Here are seven reasons why.

1. Performance. A popemobile might outwardly appear a little too sedate for the urban environment. You might wonder how your popemobile will keep pace with modern traffic. But it will. Because the popemobile isn’t the top-heavy, lumbering vehicle that it appears to be. The popemobile that we’ve seen in the UK recently has a top speed of 160mph, and a 0-60 time of six seconds (never let it be said that we don’t do research here). Why they haven’t demonstrated this by spinning the wheels and performing doughnuts to delight the assembled crowds, I don’t know (unless they think that the smoking tyres might signify the election of a new pontiff). But the popemobile is faster than you think. And it’s also bullet-proof, which is handy if you live in Nottingham. Or near a Wetherspoons.

2. Running Costs. Now you might imagine that your popemobile will be expensive to run. And you’re right, it will be. But you can offset that cost by moonlighting as a taxi driver. You’ll make a fortune. Consider it for a moment. Imagine that you’re having a great evening out, but the time has come to return home. You might be a girl with impractical shoes, or married to a girl with impractical shoes and you’ll need to call a taxi. Or you can choose the new premium option, the popemobile taxi. Who wouldn’t pay through the nose to ride home in the popemobile? I’d be dialling MCMXIVIII to order a Vaticab like a shot.

3. View. Finding somewhere to park is one of the trickiest aspects of urban driving. Ever seen a pope struggling to find a parking space? Of course not, just look at the visibility they get in the back. You’ll be able to find a space easily. And laugh at balding people at the same time.

4. Income. The back of the popemobile is, essentially, a large glass jar. Now traditionally, in fairgrounds and confectioners, people fill large glass jars with sweets and charge customers money to guess how many are in there. And you can do that with your popemobile. You can’t just fill it with any sweet, obviously. You’ll need something (ahem) appoperiate. Werther’s Original?. You can charge people to guess how many are in there, and your vehicle will pay for itself really quickly. And you’ll meet lots of men in comfortable knitwear, which is..er…well. There must be a plus side to that somewhere.

5. Visibility. Ever lost your bland silver box of a car in the car park? Of course you have. I once spent almost an hour searching for a Volkswagen Passat I’d parked at B & Q. But with a popemobile that problem will disappear. A popemobile is visible from quite a distance. Even when there isn’t a pope in it.

6. Self-Sufficiency. We’re all looking for ways to stretch our budgets further these days, and everyone’s come over a bit Tom and Barbara from The Good Life recently. In fact, there probably hasn’t been a time since the second world war when people are growing so many of their own fruit and vegetables. In the urban environment that most of us live in though, there isn’t much space to do this. But look at the back of the popemobile. It’s glazed. You can use it as a greenhouse when you’re not cruising in it. And it’s bulletproof. So no one can off your cucumbers with an uzi. It’s an all-round win.

7. Resale Value. It’s unlikely that you’ll tire of your popemobile, but if you should, remember this. Second hand car dealers often try to attribute religious credentials to the former owners of the vehicles they’re trying to sell. “It was owned by a nun”, or “it was used by a vicar to travel around his small country parish” are oft-heard pieces of sales-patter. But imagine that you’re selling a vehicle that’s been owned by the pope? “One papal owner”? You’ll make a fortune.

September 20, 2010
7 Reasons To Plan Your Picnic Carefully

1. Where Are You Going? If you are off to a day of Polo, you probably don’t want to be taking along some of Lidl’s less-than-finest Scotch Eggs. People will look down on you. Even if they are sitting down themselves. And at the other end of the scale, you probably don’t want to be taking along your Selfridges’ Hamper if you’ve managed to get a ticket for Millwall Football Club’s ‘Grand Day Out In Leeds’.

2. Do You Have Any Suncream? No? Good. No one is going to mistake it for the mayonnaise then.

3. How Much Food Do You Have? This isn’t so much about the number of bags you are taking with you, more the size of the blanket. You don’t want so much food that the only way you can sit down is by playing twister around the sausage rolls. Nor do you want so little food that you wish you’d just brought a flannel instead.

4. Do You, Or Anyone You Know, Suffer From Picnic Envy? It’s always a difficult one this, you are happily munching on a pork pie when you suddenly get a whiff of something quite extraordinary. Either than or you spin round and see someone with a better set of cutlery. It’s enough to ruin the atmosphere. And make you play Frisbee a bit closer to those with the Chicken Cordon Bleu than is strictly necessary.

5. Have You Checked The Weather Forecast? Even if it says it is going to be sunny and thirty degrees, you can be certain that it will rain. A practical solution, therefore, is to take all-weather food and drink. Melon for instance. And water. Sandwiches are a definite no-no and despite what people say, even the sturdiest of celery sticks can go limp in a thunderstorm.

6. Are You Fully Equipped? By this I mean, do you have the bottle opener/corkscrew? The one thing park rangers frown upon is picnickers trying to open a bottle of Cava using irregular practices. Like using the numberplate of their jeep.

7. Are You Going Into A Forest? Bears like food. They like people too.

July 12, 2010
7 Reasons That The Nautical Look Is Objectionable

1. Saturation Point. Too much of a thing is never good – which is why I’m editing this with a hangover – and the nautical look is everywhere. It’s finally reached saturation point and now it seems that almost every woman in the UK is dressed as a sailor.  Now, there’s nothing wrong with women dressing as sailors, or anything else that takes their fancy, but that doesn’t mean that every woman should dress as one.  Wouldn’t it be nice to see some of them dressing in outfits without horizontal stripes and rope motifs? Perhaps as spacewomen or conquistadors. Or Minnie Mouse. Or just as themselves. Our high streets look like a production of HMS Pinafore at the moment.

2. Confusion. It’s confusing. Sailors are sailors: we can tell that by their uniforms and their weatherbeaten faces. Women are women: we can tell that because they smell nice and have soft hands. But the nautical look blurs the issue somewhat. Allow me to demonstrate using science…or maths (It’s definitely one of those things).

A Venn diagram which illustrates the inherent confusion caused by the nautical look.

3. Anchor. When choosing an outfit with a decorative motif, is it really wise to choose one that rhymes with wanker? No, it isn’t. Because people will take the piss.  Not having an anchor on your breast pocket insulates you from jibes and cruel humour. The same goes for not having a ship on your handbag.

4. The Next Step. Many women are currently dressing as sailors, but what if this fad takes a slight twist? What if sailors start dressing as women?  It’s confusing enough already, do we really need that?

5. Weather. Now I’m sure the nautical look would look fine and dandy when worn on the back of a motor-yacht moored in Porta Banus or Cannes. But it isn’t. It’s being worn in Manchester, where it rains all summer. And, unlike real sailors, people are wearing stuff that isn’t waterproof. I saw people attired in faux-nautical gear sheltering from rain in a bus shelter yesterday. They looked foolish.

6. Do It Properly. The nautical look is being done in a half-hearted manner. Wearing a stripy top under a blue jacket is lame. If you want to do the nautical look well, wear a tricorn hat, an eye-patch, a peg-leg, a hand-hook; carry a parrot around. Wear vast epaulettes dripping with gold braid and the full cuff insignia of an Admiral; accessorise your outfit with a telescope or a sextant. Ditch your umbrella in favour of a Sowester hat, oilskins and a life-jacket. Grow a beard. This woman demonstrates how to pull off the nautical look properly.

Or you could do what this man did and dress up as a mermaid before sinking without trace. That’s true dedication to the nautical look.

7. Paris Hilton. Paris Hilton’s a big fan of the nautical look. Paris Hilton’s also an idiot. Do you really want to dress like an idiot? I use Paris Hilton as a general guide to life. You can too. Whoever you are, whatever you’re about to do, ask yourself the question: Would Paris Hilton do this? If the answer is yes, don’t do it.

What an anchor.

June 7, 2010
7 Reasons That The Ash Cloud Is Just Taking The Piss Now

1. Time. The eruption of Eyjafjallajökull was on the 14^th of April and news of the eruption emerged three days later, when newsreaders had finally mastered saying “Eyjafjallajökull”. It’s now the 12^th of May, so that’s almost a month that the cloud’s been menacing Europe for. A month is a long time: It’s a long time in politics; it’s a long time in sport; it’s a long time in Tipperary, and it’s a bloody long time for a cloud of ash to be hanging around, cocking the whole of Europe up. Enough!

The Route Taken By The Ash Cloud

2. Movement. The cloud is just floating about, apparently at random. Its course is seemingly unaffected by the weather and meteorologists can’t predict where it will go to next. I’ve plotted the cloud’s movement over the last few weeks and here’s the result. Just look at it! It’s a doodle. I might as well have commissioned a two year old boy to draw it with a wax crayon, but I didn’t. I did it properly, using Photoshop. The cloud’s making me look like an idiot. And I’m not even married to it.

3. Light. The cloud – when it is between the ground and the sun – apparently blocks out some sunlight. I’m terrified it’s going to turn up near me. I live in Yorkshire and can’t afford to see any less sun; I can already light up a room just by removing my clothes. If I were any paler I’d be a hazard to aircraft – assuming there were any flying, that is. It’s bound to turn up here sooner or later, it’s already been everywhere else. Even Lancashire.

4. Not Dissipating. Three weeks ago, after the cloud passed over the North-West of England, my friend Roger found an ashy residue on his car. We would logically assume that debris from the cloud was dropped on many cars (and on other things), not just his. But the cloud hasn’t shrunk, which means that it’s either capable of self-regeneration, or it’s persecuting Roger. Either way, that’s bad form.

5. Portugal. It’s not just Roger that the cloud’s persecuting. It’s Portugal. I have friends who were stuck there on holiday for an extra week until, finally, the cloud went off to Scotland and they were able to fly back. Another friend was due to fly out to Lisbon this week, but the cloud has decided to go back to Portugal, so he can’t. I don’t know why the cloud is tormenting the Portugese – the French have probably already surrendered to it – but it does seem a little unfair. Perhaps it tasted a glass of Mateus Rose and it’s holding a grudge.

6. The News Agenda. The cloud’s keeping important stories out of the news. I’ve only just found out that there was some sort of election and that we’ve got a new government. Who knew?

7. Air. I’m beginning to suspect that the cloud is sentient – after all, it couldn’t have caused any more chaos if it were conducting a meticulously planned campaign. I’m also beginning to worry that it’s evil. Think about it, the last person that tried to hamper British air efficacy and caused large-scale movement of people around Europe by land was Hitler. We need to act now!

May 12, 2010