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This is a question Trapped!

Pig Bodine asks: Where have you got stuck, trapped or tangled?

(, Fri 28 Feb 2014, 12:09)
Pages: Popular, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

blah blah meme blah long story short Sound of Music blah ein stück Trapp torte Engels.

(, Wed 5 Mar 2014, 11:41, 8 replies)
Almost gone
About 6 years ago, I was washing my wife's car on the drive. Our drive slopes at about 10 degrees downwards away towards the road and although not a problem for most cars, the wife was driving an old Rover 25 at the time and its handbrake was just about shot. So we got in the habit of leaving it in first and putting a brick behind the back wheel as well as the handbrake. We'd been doing this for about a year as we saved for a new car.

So I wash the body work, and I'm cleaning the alloys. I put my hand through the gap and all of a sudden, there is a screech, and the car just goes down the slope about 20cm and the car stops in the gears.

20cm may not sound much (actress to bishop), but with my hand through one of the gaps in the alloy, my wrist is heading around towards the brake piston with no gap and I'm not quick enough to pull it out..

And then it stops. My wrist is trapped, but with about 1mm either way. Another 2cm down the hill and it would have been bye, bye hand.

I won't lie, panic kicked in and I just yelled. The next door neighbour came out and with the help of a couple of builders who luckily were working down the road, pushed the car up the hill and got my hand out.

TL:DR; get your handbrake checked every year.
(, Tue 4 Mar 2014, 21:03, 9 replies)
I got stuck up your mum
last night. A bit baggy but a good experienced ride
(, Tue 4 Mar 2014, 12:52, 29 replies)
Floor cat
Sittingduck reminds me - our shed was a massive old thing; to give you an idea of the size at one point it had an old car in it.

Anyway, one day one of the neighbourhood cats fell through one of the broken floorboards and couldn't get out. It must have been as soon as we'd gone on holiday, because when we got back it was dead, and my dad tried to pull it out, but it had rigour mortis and he had to wait for it to rot down a bit.
(, Tue 4 Mar 2014, 9:15, 14 replies)
Ceiling cat
When we were kids our cat got under the floorboards, and got trapped. We could hear the fucker meowing but couldn't find him. Unfortunately didn't have a square hole for him to peek out of
(, Tue 4 Mar 2014, 9:08, 6 replies)
budgies are not very bright
the one we had when I was a child was something of a rocket scientist amongst budgies. but still, in the grand scheme of things, not very bright. however, budgies are as curious as they are stupid, and this is not a great combination.

joey wasn't allowed in the kitchen, but my brother and I used to sneak it in there because it was so funny dancing around all the shiny things and thinking there were other budgies hiding in the toaster and the kettle. then one day its beady eyes fell on the tall spaghetti jar. and its entire tiny life purpose became dedicated to solving the mystery: what was in the jar? (it was a glass jar. clearly it was spaghetti.)

joey flew up to the top of the jar and managed to gain purchase on the lip. it spent ages trying to heave off the wooden lid, probably equivalent to me trying to haul the cover off a well. then my mother came in and joey was banished instantly. this was repeated over several weekend, until eventually joey's persistence paid off. the vanquished enemy lay on the kitchen floor, with the triumphant joey perched on the lip of the jar, cocking its head to peer down at it like parrots do.

unfortunately for joey, its irresponsible 6 and 8 year old owners had fucked off. so when the inevitable happened, and joey fell in the jar, we weren't around to rescue it. it must have spent at least an hour squashed up in a glass tube, beak and tail mashed against the glass, wondering what the fuck was going on.

eventually someone came in and rescued it, and the freed prisoner flew around the kitchen in happy relief. then, on its second circuit, its beady eye once more alighted on the spaghetti jar.

in the end, we had to get rid of the jar, as my mother got sick of having a jar of spaghetti that we could never eat.
(, Tue 4 Mar 2014, 8:30, 29 replies)
Ruby Wax
I saw a programme on TV a few years ago featuring the above American lady. She was interviewing some members of a British ambulance crew. She asked them what the strangest case they ever encountered was. "We were called out late one night, a man was 'stuck' inside a Yorkshire terrier:".....Ewwwwww!
(, Tue 4 Mar 2014, 5:33, 17 replies)
When I was a lad, a bike chain ate me.
I was changing the chain on my push-bike (an impressive Raleigh Mustang) and due to my fat sausage fingers, and being a child, I managed to trap my little finger between the fat spikey cogs on the pedal and the chain itself, right at the bottom, at about 5 o clock if it was a clock.

Pretty sure most push bike owners have had to do this. Anyways, being but a sprog, and blood pissing out my finger, I was having a good old scream for my mum, she came outside, and, promptly started freaking out herself.

The bloke that lived next door, Peter, was his name, came over to see what all the fuss was about, and, in his infinite wisdom, decided the best way to free my finger would be to rotate the pedal around, FUCKING SLOWLY thus dragging my spazzed finger round to the top and then pulling it out the chain when it was free from both.

The cunt.

I swear he was enjoying it. In retrospect, the best way would have been to unhook the chain from that thingy in the back wheel and give it some slack, then remove the offending digit.

Again, the fucking cunt. I still can't grow a proper nail on that finger.
(, Tue 4 Mar 2014, 1:29, 1 reply)
I was once trapped in a restaurant with a very rude man and his incessantly ringing Motorola Startac

(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 18:38, 3 replies)
It's like a jungle sometimes, it makes me wonder how I keep from going under.

(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 18:36, Reply)
Mate of mine got tied to a lamppost outside a gay bar in Soho.
How he escaped getting a sausaging I will never know.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 18:19, 8 replies)
being very helpful as a child, i was always ready to run errands for my mum. one day, this meant going to her friend's house in the local high-rise to borrow her curling tongs.
as she lived on the 6th floor, i decided to take the lift, as did 2 elderly women who were going to the 9th floor.
between the 2nd and 3rd floors, the lift suddenly juddered to a halt. we pressed buttons, but nothing happened. we then tried the emergency alarm button. again, nothing.
after 10 minutes of shouting, we managed to attract someone's attention and the caretaker was summoned. he assured us that an engineer had been called and would be with us very shortly to release us.
unfortunately, this wasn't quite fast enough for one of the old ladies.
"mary, i need to pay a visit" she said.
"we'll be out soon, just hold it until then, ok?" she agreed that she would.
5 minutes later, it happened. "i can't, mary," she said, "i'm going to have to let it go."
so she did. all over the lift floor. a large puddle of steaming yellow badness. now, not only was i trapped with 2 old women who originally smelled of digestives and celery, i was now paddling in geriatric piss. it took another 45 minutes for us to be freed, possibly the longest and smelliest 45 minutes of my young life. i was so glad to breathe the almost fresh air again.
as if that wasn't bad enough, mum's mate had gone out by the time i got there and i got a bollocking for not getting the curling tongs.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 17:01, 9 replies)
Report. But I like this story.
At one of the larger UK festival a call comes over the radio from a fairly bemused response team.

The victim had a lobe extension, what this effectively is, is a ear piercing that has been stretched and a hoop inserted to give a clear opening. Sometimes these are a few millimetres at most, sometimes they're wide enough to fit a can of redbull through.

Someone completely unknown to the victim approached him and after a brief conversation, then said the following "You know what would make a cool picture? If I was to padlock you to that fencing through your ear!"

The victim agreed that it indeed would make a cool picture. The protagonist produced a padlock from his pocket, they approached the nearest fencing and he was duly locked to it through a lovingly stretched hole in his flesh.

The protagonist unfortunately didn't stick around to take a picture. He didn't even release the poor sod. Instead, he just fucked off and left him.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 16:38, 23 replies)
One year at Glastonbury I encountered a chap offering £5 to anyone who would help him out of his wellington boot, as he was completely stuck fast
Well, I'm never one to turn down a challenge but I had to use a pen-knife in the end and it took about 20 minutes to cut the rubber away from his foot. Oh, and I was dressed like Commander Riker at the time. Great times.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 15:06, 13 replies)
Annoyingly, I seem to have painted a long and slightly curly pube into the newly pale bathroom wall.
But I'm too lazy to repaint, so there it stays - trapped, like a grim tribute to Han Solo's carbonite period.

(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 14:03, 27 replies)
I had a trapped nerve but
it got away.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 13:44, Reply)
Blah blah blah blah
Shaun of the Dead then Star Wars.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 13:24, 1 reply)
Well there was this time that terrorists broke into the pub I was working in, and so I hid in the lift shaft of the dumb waiter, and then to avoid being caught I climbed up it but they saw me go in there and they started heating up the metal
and when I woke up it had all been a dream.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 12:45, 4 replies)
Psychologically scarred
Crashed at a mate's flat one night after a pub crawl. Before retiring he warned me he had an early start, but I could eventually let myself out and just pull the door behind me. Late morning, ablutions, coffee, door. Door. Locked. Stress, I had some work in the late afternoon. Tried contacting, his phone was off. Called work and said I might be late, they said that could be a problem, uh, be here.

Then the music started in the flat below, joined shortly by the hoovering, pushing up the music even more. Whitney Houston And Aaaaaaaaaaaa eee aaaaiiiii. On repeat.

... And Aaaaaaaaaa eee aaaaiiiii etc again and again for an hour or two. I worried about the mental state of the person below, and then started to worry about my own, which eventually encouraged me to exit via the window on to the street a couple of floors below. Thank you vacuumer, and thank you Whitney for helping me out of there.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 12:42, 1 reply)
my friend evie is one of those people who is very bright... but also spectacularly thick
when she was training as a solicitor, she had a massive crush on her supervisor. they were working in an office together, and his desk had a column next to it.

one evening they were working late, and a combination of his proximity and sleeplessness gave her a sudden rush to the head. after discussing a vital tax point with him, instead of walking away like a normal person, she tried to shimmy seductively through the space between the column and his desk.

evie is not very tall but she is very sporty. whilst she is not remotely fat, she does have a rather noticeable derriere from years of running around with a hockey stick. this promptly got wedged between the column and his desk. or, as she put it, "I was trapped, wriggling around like a worm in a sack." at first she confined herself to small wiggles, hoping that he wouldn't notice. but gradually as she got more and more desperate, she had to shake herself free. finally she managed it, but not before she had popped the arse pocket button clean off her suit trousers. it pinged over and hit the object of her affection.

he handed it back to her without saying a word.

she never did get in his pants.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 12:34, 11 replies)
First day at work
It's all new and rather confusing. When it was finally time to leave, I headed down the stairs but found myself facing a door labelled "Do Not Open - door alarmed!". OK, so I've taken a wrong turning. Turn around to retrace my steps, and find that the door behind me has a code-lock on it. And I don't have the code, of course.

So I'm trapped in the bowels of the building, with no way out. The office number wasn't on my mobile, as I'd called only from my landline, but luckily I had dialled it frequently enough over the last few days to eventually remember it. Thankfully there was still someone in the office, so I was released, and shown the proper way out.

"Not a great first day," I offered, sheepishly. They told me not to worry, as someone else - attempting to impress by staying late on her first day - had managed to get locked in the office on her own. She attempted to climb out of a window, but lost her nerve half way, and had to be rescued by the fire brigade - in front of a large crowd of pointing and laughing passers-by.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 11:55, 2 replies)

(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 11:39, 1 reply)
I got trapped in a lift once
And the creepy IT guy was perving on my tits :'(
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 9:39, 8 replies)
I got stuck in a lift once.
Which wasn't much of a drama.

My dilema though, was that I was just going up to my apartment having been Christmas shopping, and needed a piss.

I had bought a new kettle for my sister-in-law, which was a spiffy chrome job.

In the 10 minutes between the lift stopping and the security people getting me out, I had to staunchly resist the urge to take a slash in SIL's Christmas present.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 9:00, 2 replies)
I grew up in a very big, very old house, built in the early Elizabethan period.
When I was a young girl I managed to get stuck in the priest hole.

If you though I was scared just imagine how the priest felt.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 8:48, 2 replies)
Trapped in the beam
Age 17. A sweltering July night in Florida. I step out the back door of my house to have a sly "massive drugs", after which I gaze at the stars for a while. Too long a while. Mom awakens and goes out to the kitchen. On her return she checks the back door, and locks it. Trapped outside.

How to break into my house wearing only boxer shorts and slippers.

I recall that the garage window is broken and covered by a tarp. I walk around the house to climb through it, when the new police helicopter catches me in its spotlight. Trapped in the beam. What can I do?

I look right at it and give it a cheerful wave before climbing through the window. Then roll another and head back out the door to reclaim the buzz that had been so thoroughly harshed.

Put on pants and took my keys this time.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 5:28, 13 replies)
Clowns to the left of me, jokers to the right...
Here I am stuck in the middle with you.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 0:54, 1 reply)
I once got trapped on a message board called b3ta. /talk specifically.

They did brutal brutal fucking things to me and I am not sure I can ever recover from it.
(, Mon 3 Mar 2014, 0:15, 3 replies)
The loo at work
Has a slightly dodgy lock, and a light switch on the outside. It turns out that it's quite easy to wait for your colleague to enter, then whip the centre of the mechanism out from outside before shutting off the lights and listening to him flailing at the door for five minutes or so. While videoing the process for general amusement.

Not that I would do that, of course.

(He did get me back last week, but that's another story)
(, Sun 2 Mar 2014, 21:52, 1 reply)

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