Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Guts on My Pants
My pants are encrusted with dried fake guts. I didn't even know they were there at first because the stuff is red, my pants are black and you don't see it really. But you feel it once it dries.
The guts were sprayed on my pants by a small explosive charge called a squib. They are only on my pants because I was hiding behind a piece of expensive plastic with the camera when this charge went off. The plastic was there to protect the camera and the camera crew. I was back there to brace the plastic with my hands because no one could tell us exactly what the force of the charge would be. And really, how would you go about describing the force of a charge to someone.
It would blow a butterfly off course, a robin, seagull, eagle. It would knock over a small child. Uttlerly destroy an orange.
So we put up the plastic, put in some earplugs and see what happens.
Not a whole lot, as it turns out. But guts on my pants.
The guts were sprayed on my pants by a small explosive charge called a squib. They are only on my pants because I was hiding behind a piece of expensive plastic with the camera when this charge went off. The plastic was there to protect the camera and the camera crew. I was back there to brace the plastic with my hands because no one could tell us exactly what the force of the charge would be. And really, how would you go about describing the force of a charge to someone.
It would blow a butterfly off course, a robin, seagull, eagle. It would knock over a small child. Uttlerly destroy an orange.
So we put up the plastic, put in some earplugs and see what happens.
Not a whole lot, as it turns out. But guts on my pants.
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