September 1, 2008

Three minutes after arriving in our office this morning, the "fault" beep on our fire alarm began to sound.

It is an alternate electronic beee-eeep that pierces the skull every two seconds.

Or, by my calculation, 4,500 times since I came in.

So, you'd best ring the police, then.

Because I'm possibly about to massacre an entire shopping centre.

* We have rung the engineer, by the way. He's on his way. After he's finished his other slightly more pressing job.

At Manchester Fucking Airport, a mere 45 miles (plus however long that job takes) away.