My Best of the Year 2015: When the internet killed the top-shelf lads’ mag
Donald MacInnes documents a year of oddness, from spray tans to spider spray...
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Your support makes all the difference.This week I present the second part of my annual festive Best of the Year. We begin in April, when I admitted I had worked for the (thankfully now condemned) lads mag, Zoo...
Thus began a year of genuine oddness, which I will document in these pages in future. Suffice to say it became quite normal to walk into a conference room and find a fleshy glamour model having her armpits spray-tanned.
And while it would be nice to think that these types of magazines are going out of business because young men no longer feel the need to, well, feel the need, I suspect their demise has more to do with the internet being free.
Why pay £2 for reasonably chaste pictures of soap stars in their pants when you can log on to whatevertakesyourfancy.com and see The Full Bunty, for nothing?
May visited crime on our house, when my beloved Honda scooter was nicked and trashed. Good job I had comprehensive insurance...
I duly called my insurance company (which I shall refer to as “Aviba”) and tabled a claim for theft. I had paid them around £1,300 in premiums since I bought the bike, without making a single claim, so assumed I would have no trouble in getting the cost of the repairs back. Yes, I know: I’m an idiot.
My bike was picked up and taken to Aviba’s engineers for assessment. After a few days, I was told that if I went ahead with the claim, the bike would be a write-off.
A mechanic at the garage also told me that if it were fixable, I would probably receive only “at most” 60 per cent of the current value of the bike. Seems a little … mmm, what’s the word? Outrageous? Yes, that’ll do.
June delivered unto our house a spider with the dimensions of a council sports facility. I’m really not exaggerating...
So, as soon as it became clear that our house had been annexed by this unapologetic octo-beast, we agreed that something must be done. Online I found a spray which, apparently, makes spiders instantly pack their belongings inside a knotted spotty handkerchief on the end of a stick.
I went upstairs, got on my laptop and ordered it. I then reported back to my wife. “Our troubles are over, honey,” I said. “The spider deterrent is on its way.” “How much was it?” she asked, not looking up from her book. “Oh, you can’t put a price on peace of mind,” I said, gingerly creeping past the spider, which was on the ceiling, idly keying buttons on the TV remote control.
Thankfully, it seems to have worked. The spray arrived the following day and I fumigated both our bedroom and the baby’s. There has been no sign of any spiders in either room since. Although, in the case of the baby’s room, I suspect the stench of befouled nappies is doing its bit to keep Itsy Bitsy Spider away…
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