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If you can't fix it with a hammer and a roll of duck tape, it's not worth fixing at all, my old mate said minutes before that nasty business with the hammer and a roll of duck tape. Tell us of McGyver-like repairs and whether they were a brilliant success or a health and safety nightmare.
( , Thu 10 Mar 2011, 11:58)
If you can't fix it with a hammer and a roll of duck tape, it's not worth fixing at all, my old mate said minutes before that nasty business with the hammer and a roll of duck tape. Tell us of McGyver-like repairs and whether they were a brilliant success or a health and safety nightmare.
( , Thu 10 Mar 2011, 11:58)
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fixing? does a meal count?
This tale of genius stems back from my days learning how to make shiny lanterns be all shiny on silly actor types. We were the BTEC first group, the scum of the theatre, not even allowed to play with the nobs and slidey bits in the main auditorium. Relegated to the "back studio" for our performances, just to make sure we knew our place. Destined to spend a year feeling like retarded wannabes playing with the shitty equipment that you'd only normally find in a primary school drama club.
We were doing some shit that involved projecting silhouettes onto a shitty cobbled together piece of flat scenery and painting around them, trying to make it look as rubbish as possible, when my friend and comrade Ben, having already eaten his genoa cake ends that he bought from weigh and save, along with his 2 litre bottle of 26p cresta lemonade from sainsburys, he decided that he was still hungry, and thirsty. What better way to satisfy both hunger and thirst than with a cheap tin of soup.
But wait.
How does he cook such a meal with only the most basic of basic theatre equipment?
Well, first you pierce a hole in the top of the tin. No lighting technician worth his salt is ever without a nice sharp hard edge lurking within his penknife. So, hole pierced. Now what? To the average human being, game over. No microwave, no saucepan, no heat source... or was there...
Our hero took the half used roll of Gaffer tape, the tiny desk lamp that was positioned by the shitty travel lighting board and proceeded to become a legend in his own lifetime.
Step one. Tilt light back.
Step two. Tape the can to the light making sure the 40 watt bulb is in direct contact with the can.
Step three. Make sure the setup is stable.
Step four. Plug in and turn on light.
Step five. Wait for an hour or until there are bubbling noises coming from can.
Step six. Open can being careful not to burn yourself.
Step seven. Consume soup.
It took ages, but dammit, that S.O.B was eating soup while the rest of us starved.
I fucking love you Ben.
( , Tue 15 Mar 2011, 12:02, 3 replies)
This tale of genius stems back from my days learning how to make shiny lanterns be all shiny on silly actor types. We were the BTEC first group, the scum of the theatre, not even allowed to play with the nobs and slidey bits in the main auditorium. Relegated to the "back studio" for our performances, just to make sure we knew our place. Destined to spend a year feeling like retarded wannabes playing with the shitty equipment that you'd only normally find in a primary school drama club.
We were doing some shit that involved projecting silhouettes onto a shitty cobbled together piece of flat scenery and painting around them, trying to make it look as rubbish as possible, when my friend and comrade Ben, having already eaten his genoa cake ends that he bought from weigh and save, along with his 2 litre bottle of 26p cresta lemonade from sainsburys, he decided that he was still hungry, and thirsty. What better way to satisfy both hunger and thirst than with a cheap tin of soup.
But wait.
How does he cook such a meal with only the most basic of basic theatre equipment?
Well, first you pierce a hole in the top of the tin. No lighting technician worth his salt is ever without a nice sharp hard edge lurking within his penknife. So, hole pierced. Now what? To the average human being, game over. No microwave, no saucepan, no heat source... or was there...
Our hero took the half used roll of Gaffer tape, the tiny desk lamp that was positioned by the shitty travel lighting board and proceeded to become a legend in his own lifetime.
Step one. Tilt light back.
Step two. Tape the can to the light making sure the 40 watt bulb is in direct contact with the can.
Step three. Make sure the setup is stable.
Step four. Plug in and turn on light.
Step five. Wait for an hour or until there are bubbling noises coming from can.
Step six. Open can being careful not to burn yourself.
Step seven. Consume soup.
It took ages, but dammit, that S.O.B was eating soup while the rest of us starved.
I fucking love you Ben.
( , Tue 15 Mar 2011, 12:02, 3 replies)
true dat
Seen a chicken roasted to perfection by being placed in a sealed cabinet with a 60 watt bulb in it. In the cabinet, not in the chicken...
( , Tue 15 Mar 2011, 12:04, closed)
Seen a chicken roasted to perfection by being placed in a sealed cabinet with a 60 watt bulb in it. In the cabinet, not in the chicken...
( , Tue 15 Mar 2011, 12:04, closed)
You used to hear of wonderful meals being cooked in hayboxes too, mainly by Lord Baden-Powell
Bet he got the squits though.
( , Tue 15 Mar 2011, 13:01, closed)
Bet he got the squits though.
( , Tue 15 Mar 2011, 13:01, closed)
I did that stoopid BTEC too
then went on a did a degree. Did me no fucking good I can tell you.
( , Tue 15 Mar 2011, 21:05, closed)
then went on a did a degree. Did me no fucking good I can tell you.
( , Tue 15 Mar 2011, 21:05, closed)
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