Trapped

An aspect of animal life that doesn’t relate to human life in any regard is the fear of death through being trapped. When I was child I opened a black plastic bin at the bottom of the garden to find three frogs in various stages of starvation next to a sludge of dead frogs and frog skeletons. The horror they had endured was largely due to their own stupidity. There is one basic rule that they could have followed to have avoided death. Namely, don’t go anywhere you can’t get out of. Now unfortunately today due to a lapse of concentration I had neglected this very basic rule to embarrassing consequences.

I had worked late for reasons that are too boring to go into, meaning that no one was left in the office when I left. Now I work in an old building that is just about big enough to get lost in if you don’t know what you are doing. I usually leave via the front entrance through a set of double doors. The inner door is always open due to a broken buzzer system that is activated by the receptionist to let you in. Today it was fixed. On passing through the door on my way home I noticed that the heavy outer door had been locked with a key I didn’t have. At the exact time I spotted this I head the click of the door behind me. On pressing the now working door buzzer I saw the light activate by the now empty receptionist’s chair. Fair play the electrician had done his job. The system now worked perfectly.

I found myself in a situation that wasn’t dangerous; the worst that would happen is that I would be trapped for about 13 hours. Is that enough justification to pick up the small table that resides in that space and smash my way through the shatter proof glass (you know the stuff with the little wire squares in it) to freedom leaving the office reception in disarray? No it isn’t. This meant that the only option left was the more embarrassing one of calling for help. Cries for help when danger is involved is perfectly acceptable. When you have trapped yourself in a 4 foot glass room it is embarrassing. I decided quite quickly that shouting “help!” was not an option as it sounded too alarmist. I would have rather stayed in there all night have been caught shouting that. The cry I went with was “hello!” and occasionally “is there anyone there?!”. Far more dignified I think you will agree.

I was in there about ten minutes when I realised that I could not be heard. One option was to stick my fingers through the letter box and cry for help at passersby on the street outside in the hope that they would come to my aid. I don’t know what they would do exactly, probably phone someone. Phone someone? I have a phone! I then rang a colleague who later said that when I spoke to her I sounded “really scared”. She then got someone who was still in the building to let me out. Pete Allen will live to fight another day.

If only those frogs at the bottom of the bin had used mobiles to phone me to let them out of the bottom of the bin then they would have avoided the horrors of starvation and death. I was lucky in the fact that I didn’t have to endure the decomposing bodies of workmates who had been trapped previously. Unlike the frogs however I probably wouldn’t have tried to have sex with them.

Pete

Putting my foot in it

I’ve just kicked a hedgehog. Not on purpose, I’m not a hoodlum, but by accident. I was running out my house to put the bin out but just as I strode out the door a hedgehog ran out in front of me. It was too quick and too dark for me to notice before my foot smashed into my spikey little friend. As my foot began to bleed (that’s right, I didn’t have any socks or shoes on, who are you feeling sorry for now?) the hedgehog rolled down the garden path and rolled into a ball (see below). I watched over him for a while (from the kitchen window so as to not disturb him) as I was worried that he might be seriously injured. After lying still for a couple of minutes, it washed its little face and scuttled off into the night.

I wonder how many other people in the world have accidentally kicked a hedgehog with their naked foot whilst putting their bins out? Not many I’d vouch. Not many.

Dan

You know you've made it when...

It doesn't get much better than that (although admittedly our ranking is solely down to us having a video called 'Men, Women, Rape and Sex')

Dan

Bill Gates loves Linkin Park

While I was writing the last post I had Windows Media Player randomly playing the 1389 mp3s I have in My Music folder. Now I will admit I have one Linkin Park album in there for reasons I can't remember. Even though it is set to random, Windows Media player decides to play Linkin Park at least every other song. The only conclusion I can come to is that Bill Gates is a massive Linkin Park fan and has programmed it to play them any time it is set to random. I don't even like Linkin Park. Fuck you Bill Gates.


Pete

A comedy of errors

When we started gigging we expected that our first show would be the worst. We assumed that once we got underway we would iron out the kinks, end up word perfect and the show would be better for it. Somehow the opposite has been true. The more we do it the less we seem to know. Wednesday’s gig in Manchester was proof of this being technically the worst but somehow more fun than the rest.

The only words that I need to get right are my opening lines. They are also the words I have spoken the most as they open the whole show. Of course on the night I just said something completely different which messed Dan’s actions which relied on them. The sound also didn’t work which meant that Chris had to sort it out mid show. It’s alright though because I managed to cover for him by dancing for the audience while he was gone. We are lucky to have my dancing skills in the group otherwise I don’t know where we would be.

In our defence we had never seen the venue of the set up and had virtually no time to set up the props and sound. The atmosphere was so warm however, that we could just relax and mess around a bit more than we were used to. In past gigs if the sound had failed I would have dealt with it swiftly by running off the stage crying.

We also did a few things that we had done in rehearsals but didn’t have the balls to do on-stage which was nice. Ironically one of these was me hitting Dan and Chris in the balls as I ran past. Actually we had never really rehearsed that. All of which proves that planning and preparation get you nowhere. Next year we won’t bother writing a show. We will just turn up, fuck around for an hour and end on us all kicking each other up the arse.

Pete