The weekend just passed, GF was out shopping, which left me to complete Resident Evil 5, which I had enjoyed enough to play for a few days and I only had a few more levels left to complete.
After a while of living the dream of butchering Africans in their homeland in a totally non-racist game, I began to hear a buzzing. It was quite faint, but there.
"Oh great." I actually said aloud. "Freaking wasps." The wasps hadn't been an enemy in Resident Evil for years, but they had brought the Lickers back, so why not the wasps? Steeling myself for what could become the most annoying enemy in ages I pressed on in the game, making sure to stock up on handgun ammo.
"Come on, you frackers." I said, the buzzing getting louder. And that was when my phone began to ring. I squirmed around on the sofa to work my phone out of my pocket, saw it was GF, so I couldn't really ignore it, paused the game and answered the phone.
That was when I realised. Every game noise had ceased except for the buzzing. It was still coming from behind me. What I had at first assumed was the surround speaker making the noise turned out to be the biggest f'ing bee I had ever seen in my life. I'm not really one to exaggerate, so you know I'm being honest when I say it was the size of cow. This guy was massive and trying to get out of the window.
The instant my eyes landed on it, I screamed like a complete woman and threw my phone at it. I'm not normally one to panic like that, but I little flying insects and bugs and ****e like that. I have a real paranoia about them going in my ears or nose or any part of my body. Not sure why. I was having a piss a little while ago and a moth got in the bathroom window. I was terrified it was going to land and make it's way down my shaft, which basically made me spas out over the pain while trying to keep a steady stream.
Needless to say, the phone missed the bee, hit the frame of the window and fell to pieces. So there I was, trapped in the flat with the Zeus of the bee world, no phone except the house phone that was stuck next to the window, and zero weapons. The bee had me hostage in my own home.
Sucking it up, I moved slowly towards one window at the opposite end of the one the bee was hoovering by, and opened it. In what I can only describe as the ultimate dick move by God, as soon as this other window was open another freaking bee flew in through it. This one wasn't nearly as big as the first, but still a hefty fracker.
And then I saw what attracted them. I had brought my GF some flowers in what was properly one of two romantic gestures I've done in a six year relationship (the other one was calling her from Las Vegas). That'll teach me. As the new bee approached the flowers, and the other tried to escape the living room, I did all I could think to do. Waving one of the flowers towards the giant bee, coaxing it over, I grabbed the flowers and threw the entire vase out of the window.
Both bees made their way outside and I quickly closed both windows and sat down to relax.
I imagine I'll be starting my period soon.
A few weeks ago I was stood innocently in Waterloo train station, awaiting the arrival of my mum who was coming up to visit for the day. My girlfriend Jo and I had arrived there a little early to make sure that we'd be there on time to save my mum the daunting task of waiting around for us.
We had five minutes to kill, so we decided to play our favorite game called Arguing in Public About Stuff Neither of Us Really Care About. I assume I won the game because she shut-up eventually and looked the other way. Her mistake was to turn away as she missed one of the strangest things I've seen or done. Like a blur a person sprinted past me. This dude was definitely in a hell of a rush to reach his train at the far end of the station and he couldn't wait for anything, including his book, which his backpack spat out. It landed squarely at my feet.
Without really thinking about it, I picked the book up and called at the guy, who couldn't hear me or didn't want to hear me. Instead of doing the true London thing and just stealing the book, I took up the race and sprinted after the guy.
God only knows what possessed me, but in that moment I felt like a freaking superhero. In my mind I knew how it would go from here:
- He would reach his train in the nick of time
- Exhausted he would settle down to read his book that he was enjoying
- His book would not be there and he would not be happy
- He would begin tearing the place up in a rage, much like the Hulk, but with good reason
- He would roar "WHY DIDN'T SOMEONE CHASE ME WITH MY BOOK?" while biting a child in half
And I knew it would take a superhero like me to avert such a situation. So I carried on sprinting, dodging men, women, children and pets the whole way. For some reason he found a clear path up the full length of the station, while I was stuck ducking, diving, hurdling and dodging the smegholes who got in my way.
I have no idea at what point I would have stopped if I couldn't actually catch the guy, because I smoke and drink heavily, eat crap food and do no exercise and he seemed to be in quite good shape, based on the splotch of person shaped colour that had flown past me.
Would I have beaten down the people checking the tickets at the entrance to the platform? Possibly
Would I have ran onto the train after him? More than likely
Would I then pay the fare to get back home after being stranded in God knows where? Yes
But in that moment of pure, mild heroism I didn't mind.
It also didn't escape me that I was currently sprinting through a train station, a bulky looking bag on my back, panic on my face that only unexpected exercise can bring, with overgrown facial hair giving me a distinctly Muslim look at first glance. So I also expected to get tackled by a group of anti-terror police with pepper spray and dogs. Luckily that didn't happen. What happened was much worst.
It would seem that the reason his book fell out of the bag wasn't because it hadn't been placed in all the way, but more because the bag had split. Next thing I know I'm following a trail of clothes towards him, hoping to return his book and stop him from eating a child in anger.
As I sidestepped a lost t-shirt, I ended up placing a foot right in between a discarded pair of boxer shorts. My foot caught them and lifted them, instantly tangling my other foot in them.
So not only was I chasing this stranger with his book, I looked like I was trying to put his underwear on in the process.
Anyone who has tried to get dressed whilst drunk after drilling an ugly girl will be able to tell you two things:
- Never look at the girl you just woke up next to, because you had to be drunk for a reason
- Boxer shorts aren't convenient to get on whilst in a hurry
That second fact is even truer when you already have trainers and quite baggy jeans on.
I hit the floor like the big sack of ****e that I actually am. The book left my hand and slide along the ground to the man who had already stopped after realising that he now had nothing inside his bag, who just grabbed it, threw it back in the bag, which he was holding upside down and then hurriedly grabbed everything else of his that had scattered along the station. Moving down, past me, he carried on getting his stuff, including pulling his shorts away from my trainers. And then, without a word of thanks or an offer to help me up, he carried on sprinting to his platform.
I kind of just stayed where I was, thinking about what had just happened, wondering if one of the busiest train stations in the country actually had that many people in it on a Saturday morning and how many of them might have seen something and then risked a glance around to see.
Yep. It can have that many people. And that's twice as many eyes as people watching you. Some laughed, some looked disgusted and others just looked. Deciding whether to fake retardness to get some sympathy and some help, or to just pass out and hope that I'd get a free ride home in an ambulance, I opted for the manly choice. I jumped to my feet, brushed myself off and slowly limped my way back to my girlfriend, who still hadn't turned back to face me.
"What the hell happened to you?" Was the jist of what she said as she turned to see why I was panting so heavily.
"Just...saved a child...from getting eaten..." I gasped.
"Oh f*ck you!" She said and turned away.
I think I won that argument as well.
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