Bridger at 14,000 feet.

Today Luke Bridger (my dear friend/ bandmate/ co-writer) jumped out of a motherflipping plane. He raised over £500 for Little Havens hospice and best of all managed to deal with us trash talking him for five hours.

We set out this morning before seven (me, Luke, Luke, Flopsy and Ben) and managed to cover The Human Centipede, Hot air balloon disasters and vomit as topics in the hour and a half it took us to get to Headcorn Parachute Club in Kent via a McDonalds breakfast. The closer we got, the paler Luke turned until he literally could not stand our support anymore. Even when I kindly gave him my headphones and serenaded him with the R Kelly megahit I Believe I Can Fly he called me a dick and walked away. If I had been in his position you wouldn’t have got me into a van let alone the plane he then boarded. His last words were ‘seriously shut up’ as he headed away to suit up for his adventure through the clouds.

He jumped solo, pulled his ‘chute unassisted and I think has now forgiven us for being the worst friends imaginable given the circumstances. I’m very proud of him, the little wonder.