That sounds like my idea of hell. A hug gets awkward after 3 seconds. I once suffered a social hug that lasted nearly 10 seconds. And if a hug ever gets near a minute a referee should step in and say "break".
A 24 hour hug must be like torture. There's a strong chance I would gnaw my own arms off at the shoulders like a coyote in a trap.
They met at St Pancras station at 7am. I feel sorry for anyone stood behind them waiting, thinking, "Jeeze, get a room. She's only going to the Midlands."
According to the Guinness World Record people they have to hug for 24 hours 34 minutes, must stay awake throughout but they can have people standing by in case they get an itch.
This is where it starts to annoy me because it's not fair. I love the idea of having someone ready to scratch me but I just couldn't have the hugging. In fact I'd need someone to help with the scratching after I'd gnawed my own arms off.
They brought in a hugging expert, Jean Smith, who said: "Hugs, like chocolate, produce oxytocin and a feeling of happiness." OK, where do I sign up for the 24 hours of chocolate then? Why does it have to be a hug?
You may have noticed, I'm not good at hugging. I don't handle intrusion into my personal space very well. I put it down to my upbringing. I'm northern so we couldn't afford hugs when I were a lad. Now, if someone insists on a hug I have to go to my "happy place". And remember, I'm northern, so even my happy place isn't that happy.
So I'm glad I am not taking part in the record attempt. If I managed to stay in a hug for 24 hours and 34 minutes we'd break the current record, and we'd celebrate. And you know what people do when they celebrate? They hug! I'm better off out of it.
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