The dog ate my blog (and other excuses)

An apple a day... Detail from 'Adam and Eve'. Lucas Cranach the Elder.

An apple a day…
Detail from ‘Adam and Eve’. Lucas Cranach the Elder.

I had thought to go without a blog-post this week – as I’m on a mental and physical hiatus.

I’d planned I’d offer some explanation for skipping a beat, a rationale, a good, old-fashioned excuse.

But anything I could throw up would pale in comparison to some of the AWOL-related excuses I’ve read of over the years.

So, in the absence of an excuse from me take one from the list below – five of the best justifications I’ve come across.

Well, four. There was a fifth, but I lost it.

The original excuse

After chatting with a snake in the Garden of Eden Eve elects to nibble some fruit (tamarind according to some, others apple) from the Tree of Knowledge, promoting all manner of Divine fury, leading to original sin and presaging the Fall of Man.

Why? “The serpent deceived me, and I ate,” Eve explained. Ok then.

The Ukrainian soccer team

Fans of the team, less than pleased after a 4-0 thrashing by Spain in the 2006 World Cup, demanded an explanation.

They got one they could never have foreseen. Apparently noisy frogs croaking outside the team hotel kept them awake all night before the game.

“We all agreed that we would take some sticks and go and hunt them,” defender Vladislav Vashchuk sheepishly said.

Brian Lenihan Snr

The Irish politician initially admitted that he had called the country’s President Patrick Hillery in 1982, in an attempt to stop Hillery dissolving the national parliament (thereby removing Lenihan’s party from power).

Train in vain? Marathon man Joe Strummer, 1984.

Train in vain?
Marathon man Joe Strummer, 1984.

Then, while running for President himself eight years later, Lenihan reversed his story, claiming “on mature recollection” he had not made the controversial calls.

Was he believed? Well, he lost the election (but he was remembered for his excuse).

Joe Strummer

Soon after The Clash embarked on a major 1982 tour of the UK, at the height of the band’s fame, their front man vanished.

Where was he? Off to join a revolutionary group in Nicaragua?  Living in a squat back in Maida Vale?

Nope. He’d decamped to France, grown a beard and run the Paris marathon.

Beat that.

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