Bad Back & The Chicken Shop

Yesterday I was left rather embarrassed in the high street Chickaroo’s fried chicken shop. I’ll set the scene: Yesterday I worked like a maniac on my van to build new shelving in the “garage” under my bed. It’s a small awkward space for a 14 stone 6 foot man to be working in and due to that fact I ended up with a trapped nerve in my back.

After the days struggles, I parked in Stevenage Old Town long stay car park to settle down for the night and decided I was hungry. Starving in fact! So after a few attempts at standing up I walked over to the high street and ordered some grub. Whilst waiting, I sat down at a table. Ten minutes pass and the guy shouts “your food is ready” and I go to stand up but the ole back decided it didn’t want to support me right then and I dropped to my knees in a heap! “Aaaaaaargggh oooooooohhhhh eeeeergh huuuuurgh” and many other weird and involuntary noises came out of my mouth and nose. And I farted.

At that precise moment, a police car happened to be driving past and the officer driving saw this messed up heap on the floor closely resembling the aftermath of a cage fight only instead of blood, I was covered in sawdust. Now I should add that this high street is a very lively place at night, with hoards of thirsty yoot trolling the streets and bars and generally being a nuisance. The police car reversed back and flicked its blue lights on (presumably to attract as much attention from the genera public as possible) and the two officers entered the shop saying “come on sir, I think you’ve had enough tonight” and were trying to get me up from the floor. This caused nothing but more weird noises to come out and made me seem even more hammered. I almost pissed myself too. If you’ve ever had a trapped nerve it does very strange things to your body, mostly involuntary…

Eventually I managed to get out “mate I’m not drunk. I haven’t had a drink for many years. I don’t drink. It’s my back! You’re hurting me more!” At least that’s what I thought I’d said… I was just met with blank looks and threats of being cuffed and put in the van that the officer had now called for. The guy behind the counter came over and explained that he doesn’t think I’m drunk and something is wrong so the scene changed pretty quickly and I was helped to a chair. The last place I wanted to be if I’m honest.

After a while and a few laughs, I explained that I live in my van and my back is in a poor state. They helped me back to the van in the carpark desperate to not laugh at the previous 20 minutes! And better still, amongst all the chaos, the guy forgot to ask me to pay for the food But because I’m a nice chap, and the police probably have my reg number now anyway, I’m sat here waiting for them to open at 11am so I can pay for it.

Sloths can hold their breath longer than dolphins can

By slowing their heart rates, sloths can hold their breath for up to 40 minutes. Dolphins need to come up for air after about ten minutes. Not sure why they’d want to do that though.

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