9. TV Licensing Believe & Trust Me

Re reason 4. A lot of people will give you some long sob story about how TV Licensing are harassing them.
Let's face it, Capita couldn't harass their way out of a paper bag. Let's just consider how this works: It's not like they really have a huge army of detector vans driving the country, using confidential Cold War technology to spy on what channel you're watching. No, they have a huge army of bored office workers, printing out red-bordered letters to tell you it's your absolute final chance ever to buy a television license, before they come round and throw your sorry body in the gaol.
But it doesn't work like that. Oh no. You can sit in your house and throw those letters in the bin as long as you like, because nobody's actually going to show up. And even if they did, all you'd have to do is not let them in the house.
So TV Licensing is a bit of a paper tiger. And yet some of you duffers that don't have televisions like nothing more than to harp on about how TV Licensing keep sending you final demands for money, as though it's a terrible violation of their human rights. And you're stuck in a Kafkaesque nightmare, because how can you possibly prove you don't need a television license if you don't have a TV...
Except you must all be tinfoil-hat-wearing headcases, because what I did was:
1. Phoned up TV Licensing and told them I don't use a television to receive broadcasts

... and that was it. Step 1. Now if the rest of you can't meet with such success, that can only imply that I'm somehow a special individual, because TV Licensing believe and trust me, and they probably don't (or wouldn't) you.

8. I can read much faster than you

For example:

Lord of the Rings: 8 hours. Not wishing to belabour the point, but that's shorter than it would take you to watch Peter's Jackson's adaptation. Which would also be a waste of time, mind you, as his previous work is clearly superior.

And it's not just dry reworkings of middle England that my voracious brain can gobble up. With things to do and copious distractions, I can still read at least a book a day. That is, until supplies run out; but that makes me pretty special compared to the rest of you, who are all having to ration the time you spend reading books, rather than ration the number of books you read in a specific time.

There is one disadvantage I must admit to - I suffer badly on long journeys. Very badly. Whilst some people can gainfully employ themselves with reading the Sun between stations on a train, to have enough reading matter to stave off boredom I'd need to cart an encylcopedia or two around. As it is, before we've pulled out of Paddington I've read most things twice. And let's not even start on FHM...

7. I've run a marathon

This demonstrates the superior discipline that is required to follow a training plan covering more than 500 miles in 5 months. It also shows my high threshold for boredom. Not once during the admittedly flat marathon did I pause and think to myself "hmm, this isn't very varied. Perhaps I should try samba dancing instead".

6. I have quite a few shirts. 20, to be exact.

Now I wouldn't want you to think that I was particularly materialistic. Simply amassing vast numbers of corporeal possessions is not a good aim for one's life. You could be curing sick kittens of illnesses instead, or something equally worthwhile. (I'll be getting along to mentioning Huntingdon Life Sciences some time later, but for a reason that will take a while to explain). Or you could be educating people around the world about the dangers of puffer fish. Or teaching them to swim. Or something. After all, it's not as if the boy with the most toys wins when we all die...

On the other hand, it's nice to have nice things. And by a simple process of buying nice things and not immediately losing them down the back of the sofa, you can begin to put together a collection of them. And thus, without ever intending to, having no ambition to or burning dream that some day this might happen, I've managed to get more than £800 of shirts into my wardrobe.

Why does this make me better than you?

a) My ironing schedule is highly efficient. One day every month I iron 20 shirts, and for the rest of the month have no need to concern myself with steam.
b) I'm thrifty. It's relatively easy to put together £800 of shirts, if you pay £80 for each one. Cunningly, I only buy my shirts when they're in sales, taking advantage of the fact that a well-tailored shirt never goes out of fashion.
c) And by corollary with b), I know when to spend money. I could have 800 shirts from Poundstretcher, but none of them would feel comfortable, look good or be easy to iron.
d) A well-ironed shirt is one of the signs of a elegant gentleman. Thus, I have 20 such signs, each of them carefully manufactured from high quality materials.

5. I don't have a girlfriend who says she's a lesbian but has sex with blokes

Couple of things to deal with here. First off, let's call a spade a spade. If you want to say you're bisexual, fine. And likewise, if you're in possession of two X-chromosomes, and you find no attraction to the opposite sex, then well, fair enough, you can book your one-way ticket to the beautiful isle of Lesbos. But otherwise, it just doesn't make sense. It's like those "vegetarians" who eat fish, or who eat chicken, or white meat, or just not steak tartare.

Secondly, it's a bit lame if the only interesting thing you've got to say about yourself is your sexuality. So you enjoy inserting some appendages into some orifices, or having the same done to you. Well, so what? I reap quite some satisfaction from giving my nose a good blow when it's bunged up with a cold, but it's not like I think that would count as a reason for being superior to everyone, or even worth stating if it wasn't to point out the idiocy of the above stance.

4. I don't watch television

I don't watch television.

That's right, while the rest of you get home and turn the shit pump on, to starting flooding your living rooms with the effluvia that every channel broadcasts, I'm doing something worthwhile. What? Well, that depends on the day of the week, and what I feel like. (This list here may enlighten you somewhat, although to keep some mystery in my life I haven't written down what happens on which day). I'm not beholden to the schedule for Eastenders, or fixated on Eloise de Toite's breasts, or desperate to get back to see the latest thrilling instalment of Big Brother. And I'm not complaining about there not being anything decent on tonight either. I just do not care. There are more important things in the world, you see?