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Have a happy pig.





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» Council Cunts

Ooo OO ooo I have one!
Although it's about school bureaucracy which is sort of like Council stuff... Spose.

Couple of months back there was a happy little farce in my place of work. Scene: Science department of a large comprehensive.

The chemistry prep room door doesn’t close properly sometimes and that morning two naughty little students were found coming out of the place. About half an hour later a knock comes on my door with a teacher asking me if I know how hazardous the contents of this little pot is. Little pot is about 4cms high and contains around 1g of indicator powder. Indicator shows up pH range of ~7.5 – 8.3 for all you (interested) boffs.
“Dunno” says I, “Perhaps ask the chemistry tech.” (I be a stand in Biotechnician. I did a degree in maths & physics. Hmm)
This red indicator had been snaffled from *somewhere* by some little cherub and mixed liberally with water to create a lovely dye that has stained hands and about 40 square feet of science lab. Teacher duly sets about cleaning it up with a mop and bucket, which is no mean feat considering how much it stains. Understand that I would have done it, but my agar was setting. A nasty complaint.
Chemistry tech berates students slightly who ask “Will it kill me if I breathed it in?!”. "Unfortunately no", is the answer.

Pot had been taken from the corner of the shelf nearest the door of the prep room. Smash & Grab without the smash. I maintain that if they’d have just looked a little further along the shelf and taken the magnesium ribbon, it would have made everyone’s day a whole lot easier. All that would have occurred were four burnt eyes.
Teacher wanted to know the hazards of this material of course, and off I go to find out. Partially for my own curiosity and partly because I’m anal. I’ve no idea where the hazard cards are, so google becomes my friend. Google’s offspring says that it’s an irritant on skin… irritant on eyes… irritant to upper trachea if inhaled… the usual. Similar to what you’d get with simailr washing powder and suchlike. Heck, soap would be worse in the eye…

I present teacher with the sheets just so she’s informed, with the appropriate bits asterixed as it’s a long document of bumf. Teacher says that the kids who nicked it say they can’t breathe properly which is probably a load of tosh. Hypochondria by twumps. Teacher takes it off in the direction that the students were removed – towards the offices of deputy heads of doom.

A couple of hours later and I am glared upon as I enter the main prep room. Who was it put these people up to the idea that it was a dangerous compound? Myself, by giving teacher what she asked for. Dear oh dear. Why is this a bad thing? Well we have ambulance peeps coming to collect the evil pot of death to take it away for analysis. Oh… my… What the feck?

Titter we do. Because that’s simply stupid is it not?

Count one for the jobsworths.

But it does not end, no no no.

Teacher goes to hospital. Three students go to hospital. The bucket full of soapy water that they washed their hands in in the nurses room has to be disposed of properly. And the bucket has to be got rid of because it’s contaminated.

Count two, three and four.

Contaminated water is disposed of scientifically. Down the nearest sink.

And of course… there was the area the indicator covered. That would have been a spill would it not? Of a chemical? So… A chemical spill?

Four fire engines arrive.

There is no chemical spill of course. Although I enacted one by squirting some detergent on the desk and screaming pitifully.

Four fire engines leave.

Bearing in mind that the town is serviced by one fire station about half a mile form the school & it has two fire rigs.
The other two have come from a distance away. My mother wondered where the engines were going when she heard them blaring to the rescue a little after midday.

Count seven million, five hundred & sixty four thousand, three hundred & seventy two for the jobsworths.

Apparently as soon as they had called the ambulance, it was too late to back down… They would have looked silly… A certain deputy head takes it upon himself to basically scour the whole thing clean with as many emergency services as possible. And no, he wasn’t scientist. I don’t think anyone thought of talking to the technicians.

Drop of indicator becomes flood of chemical becomes spill of toxins. Pupils from the class queue up complaining of feeling odd, not that they’d be getting home early on a Friday of course. Office goes into a frenzy. SWAT team called in. All chemicals shot on sight.

The proper hazard cards were dug out and it said exactly the same thing as the sheet I printed out: As chemicals go, it’s pretty tame. You’d have more trouble with the agar powder and that smells awful aswell.

As the chemistry technician pointed out, “I wouldn’t even wear gloves to mix up the damn indicator solution anyway.”

Frickin’ idiots.

Mmm long. Enjoy it. It's well funny.
(Sun 29th Jul 2007, 14:04, More)

» Common

This


...as well as being a fuck-off waste of money that could have benefited numerous charities had the donors really 'cared'...
Oh, and Books of Condolence in so far as they're set up for national tragedies ( A friend's brother got killed 2 weeks back and a book set up locally, that's fine )
(Fri 17th Oct 2008, 11:44, More)

» Beautiful but Bonkers

Now known as "Psycho Bitch from Hell"
In a bid to try and drag this out of the quagmire of size related conversation... I shall chat about the complete nutter I ended up being mind-raped by.

To cut a long story short, because it went on for months, it's dull and I've forgotten lots and lots of it (ah... selective memory... mmm the subconscious is a wonderful self regulating (when working) tool) - I lived on a corridor with many other peeps in my first year of Uni. I was one of a few people who was left after all the popular guys and dolls had split into groups of smiley sexy people.
I ended up living with 2 ladies (I'm male, by the way). Not bad you might think. Well one was a bit of a munter, but one was a fox. Really. Ok she had a bit of extra weight and was tough (naturally stacked) but she had the most delicious curves and great pointy bits.
The only problem was she was in a very long term relationship, and the kind of girl who gets married asap.
Could have had something to do with her being Christian. They do those sorts of things.
I shall list a few interesting details, things that she'd told people had happened to her (why would you question them at the time... ?)
* Her brother had mental problems and had many many times tried to kill himself. She’d once resuscitated him after an overdose. He had also written things from the Devil when passed out.
* He regularly used to make attempts to break into her room and stab her. Hence the knife marks in her bedroom door at home and the Yale lock.
* He had accused their father of touching him and she had to give counter evidence in court.
* Her mother had miscarried all over the bathroom when she was 11 after telling her and her brother she wasn't pregnant, hence why she *CANT* bear lies or lying.
* Her mother never appreciated her and was always putting her down.
* The shower in halls was so hot one day that she passed out and hit her head, since which time she's had major headaches and some sort of blood clot in her brain. Almost death many times. And yet she’d never had any hair cut or shaved when she’d been in hospital.
* Her immune system isn't 'normal'. She has adrenalin pens in case she's goes into anaphylactic shock. She once got a blister from a new shoe, which turned into septicemia and if she hadn't have got to the doctors when she did... she would have been dead within a couple of days.
* Coupled to having no resistance against disease, her digestive system didn't work. She rarely ate anything but beans. And she could never fart. Or burp. Or shit properly.
* Through all this, she was a highly commended student.
* She could play God knows how many instruments.
* She'd written an Opera or Symphony or something that had been played in Austrailia.
* She was writing a novel about all the horrible things that had happened in her life. She already had a publisher who were just waiting for her to finish.
* She wrote regular articles for a certain Educational Supplement.
* She was a Christian, but one of those strange ones that does things on a Saturday.
* Even though she was gorgeous, she didn't think so. Often men would come onto her, but she didn't encourage them or flirt. It just happened. And girls would get very jealous. Many a time, men would sit next to her on the bus and try to kiss her for no reason.

Taking all those things together it's pretty clear what we're dealing with.

But I fell head over heals biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig time after being round her almost constantly in our house for many months.

After being off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off and on and off for ages until she dumped her long term bloke and after (I kid you not, it must have been hot and cold about 100 times), she dumped me for no particular reason.
Let me explain that this was after I'd been the first to take her to bed. Stupid feckin' twat that I am didn't have a certain handy little gadget with me but we couldn't wait. Yes I know now...
Not only did my seed cause her illness because her "body wasn't used to my germs", not only did her pill fail, not only did the morning after pill fail, not only did the lord provide that she conceive on her first go, but he decided that she could lose it along with the ensuing kidney infection. Lucky eh?

But the dumping. Spectacular. She loved me of course, but was off after some big shot at her church. Couldn't get enough of him. Literally. It was such a big step sleeping with me... So much so that even with their strong values and beliefs that forbade them doing even things like drinking the Devils brew, because it "takes you further from God", it didn't stop them bonking like weasles. Right above my head. For months. When I had my rather important exams. Even though I asked if she could do it at his house when I had my exams. After quitting for a while she started again the night before my first exam. Just under 50% for 3rd year of a masters. Not helpful in the long run.

Leaving a pile of tissues and a condom wrapper on top of a pile of rubbish in your bin isn't subtle. But it's helpful if your ex notices so that you can ask him "Why is it such a big deal to you" in a condescending but caring manner when he looks a little shaken.

She never asked me to my face to be an usher at her wedding, but left it in a letter. This was after weeks of hinting that she was getting engaged to Mr Would-be-Jesus-but-born-two-Millennia-too-late. Even putting her hand on my desk in front of me so I'd notice the ring. I didn't. Realised after though.

The last time I spoke to her, she was sobbing her little heart out and shaking out her duvet that my mates had cheerfully filled with crisps and cheese after my 21st.
I love them for that.

Over the months she's attempted many many times to get in contact with me. Mostly by text, the most recent ones stating how wrong and foolish she was and how great I am and how sorry she is. Due for one soon actually. The last email I got from her she said she wanted to make amends as she didn't have much time left. The head thing you know.

The bitch still isn't dead yet.

I apologise for nothing. You psychologists out there are likely thinking I haven’t got over it. In a way you is right. Never felt so down like that before. Managed to avoid happy pills, just. Since then have been out with two fantastic ladies. The first one when I was still living with the psycho. So good to see her face when she saw the gorgeous blonde I was seeing.

I never thought I’d ever say that I’d not be in the least bit sad to hear that someone I used to love had spontaneously combusted. With regards to the list up there near the top – she was and is a fucking liar.
But she loved the length. She was well dirty :)

Christ! Rant over. Well done for reading it. If you did. I break my recent lurkage in style.
(Thu 23rd Nov 2006, 1:26, More)

» Missing body parts

Kersal Missive, Emvee
Yes, I actually forgot the most embarassing form of surgery Ive ever had. Pilonidal sinus (commonly called Jeep Drivers bum syndrome - bouncing aroung and being sweaty), I'm an hairy man but not an chubby man.

I avoided the 'packing' option and just got a bit cut out and sewn up - not wonderfully well... have a little nobbly scar.

Yes, arse surgery.
Beware all ye who titter though. My mate took delight in telling everyone I had an anal absyss (including my boss haha) when it was at the top of the crack . Then went and had a massive shit after a couple of days eating crap and drinking at Reading Festival one year and tore his browneye.
Ha! Someone had to have his arse burnt closed again.
(Fri 2nd Jun 2006, 2:17, More)

» Call Centres

I'm not thick, just slow at times
I did do working for a Motorcycle Insurance Company once upon a time.
Mine job did not involve cold calling, no no, the peeps called me.
Run through details and get quotes and that. Sometimes people would call back to retrieve a quote, and as such their details were already in the system. I had to run through and check them.

Now being a naive chap I had never seen the name Cockburn written down before, although I must have heard it said.
For nearly two years I greeted returning customers with "So that's Mr Cock-Burn looking for fully comp on an R1... "
I remember once, after such a call, I decided to check how many Cock-Burns there were in the system. I couldn't believe how many people there were with that name, and I'd never met one in real life.
No-one ever pointed it out, but looking back I can remember one or two exasperated "*sigh* Yes..." from the other end of the line.

A similar thing happened with Bi-Cester, until a customer pointed it out.
I know now. My life is better for it.
(Thu 3rd Sep 2009, 14:10, More)
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