locked in

Welcome to paradise!


Welcome to Paradise!

Step inside… come on in to a Very Special Brand of Chaos and Disorder.

All-pervasive olfactory gloom. Choking, putrid, rancid incoherence.



Ritual Horror.

Help yourself here, for your ritual pleasure.

Damp, rotting towels reeking of unwashed human, and sickly-sweet, pickling clothes.



Tread with Care!

Beware, tread with care! Do not disturb the elaborately patterned dust-caked carpet, its special decades-old collection of grit and grime.



Feast for the Eyes.

Make yourself at home.

Prepare your sustenance, cook your feasts, help yourself to sticky, tacky surfaces.

Raw chicken necks and ice-cream.

Old newspapers and tea bags.

Admire the ham, 1998, a very good vintage!



Elegant Dining.

Have yourself some lovely meals, it’s all elegant dining with Noritake and silver spoons from yesteryear!



Personal Sanctuary?


And, here, this is your special room. It’s all yours to rest and relax in. It’s prepared specially for you, honoured guest in room-with-a-view!



Hello! Hello!

Hey, hey, hey, let’s engage in incessant meaningless social babblings every hour of the day, each time we pass along the hallway, ok?

Racist, ableist, sexist, homophobic gurglings. Don’t you just love my jokes?

But I’m a humorous sort of chap, aren’t I?

Boom! Bang! Boosh! Barging into personal sanctuary of little bedroom. No waiting to be given the OK, just march in, after all, this IS your house, isn’t it then?

What do you mean “don’t know basic simple manners?” But you’ve got these tall shelves here to hide behind anyway!

Oooooooooooooo!!!! Noise pollution punctuates the asthmatic air.

Sudden, loud, sharp high-pitched yawn, squeaks, sqawks stabbing the air, abrupt startling fortissimo staccatos.

Lifting shirt, bare pot-belly glistening, scratch-scratch-scratch.

Once seen, cannot be unseen. Once heard, cannot be erased.

Oh, yes, yes, yes, I am a Gentleman, I am!




It is an ordeal.

Sensory madness.

Helpless sadness.

Battling Inclement Space. Yearning for Clemency. Living hapless inside surreal vortex of charitable doom.

Locked in. Afraid to venture out, just in case… So overwhelming… Terrified to face again all that horror…

But hungry, thirsty and needing the loo!

Where else can we go? Be brave, be brave, just go, tally ho!


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