» Work Experience

Work experience
Back in the days when work experience meant something (i.e. before any concept of health and safety) my mate and I were sent to a local ASDA distribution warehouse to "get some experience of the world". Quite how this was intending to assist two (very) public school boys I have no idea but, after the obligatory kickings were meted out by the assorted pre chav chavs we settled down to corrupting their innocent ways as we were completely unconcerned as to long term employment so were focussed in a different, and more creative, direction.

Having persuaded most of the more senior (you could tell by the lack of clarity of their tattoos) staff to leg it for the afternoon Mark and I proceeded to teach ourselves to drive the forklifts which, I will be frank, was pretty smegging easy.

Having set up a course around the warehouse that was largely created by the use of "ready for dispatch" boxes of crimbo shit for ASDA, we then hurtled around the inside of this cavern whilst the Neanderthals cheered us on. Being souls of generous nature we passed the helm of the forklifts onto the most vocal of these chaps who, in an effort to show the posh kids how these things should be driven, managed to drive the larger of the trucks out of the warehouse. Through the wall. The smaller one, with its forks fully raised, impaled the cab of a rather nice looking HGV that had just pulled in to the warehouse to be loaded.

Public school teaches one a lot of things. How to present oneself as completely innocent of all goings on is one key lesson.

Result was that the work experience boys (myself and Mark) were paid handsomely for the next week whilst we did all the work of the recently sacked chavs whilst we rejoiced in the vindication of the true social order.

After fifteen years as a criminal lawyer I must say that not a lot has changed! Darwinism in action.
(Tue 15th May 2007, 6:07, More)

» Pretentious bollocks

Pretentious bollocks
In my long forgotten past I was a criminal defence lawyer in a piss poor northern town. One of the regulars at court was the most pretentious streak of piss that you could find; educated at Oxford don't yew know. Lost no opportunity telling everyone how clever he was.

Twat.

One of my collegues was a timid little thing who now teaches the piano to kids. Lovely girl called Lucy. Made virtually no impression in the rather coarse world of the criminal fraternity due to a lack of swearing, lying and overt bribery but will allways be remembered for the following.

Following one of my clients going down for a very long time (deserved it, guilty as a chav) I was walking out of court between the pretentious streak of piss and Lucy and he rather loudly said something to me in Greek (not modern greek, oh no, but ancient, fucking, greek). Cue me looking slightly blank. Cue Lucy leaning across and saying uncharacteristically loudly "Right sentiment, wrong tense". Cue streak of piss going red. Cue much laughter.

For the next two years before I escaped that particular pergatory everything he said was greeted with the question "right tense?".

Toodle pip
(Mon 3rd Oct 2005, 19:18, More)

» Toilets

Not in a toilet but...
Out on the piss with a few mates in my tender years we headed off to one of the lads house in Strensall from the center of York. En route one by one we all needed to pump ship and stopped the car in the middle of a long straight piece of road to do the business. It was dark. Very dark.

For those of you who don't know York (and I hope for the sake of your sanity that's most of you) the area between Strensall and York is largely taken up by an army range and training ground. Picture the scene. A car stopped at the side of the road. Four pissed blokes unzipping jeans on the verge. A normal sight indeed. Before our eyes adjusted to the dark half a dozen bushes rose from the undergrowth and a posh voice called out, "If you piss on me I'll fucking shoot you".

I was the only one who got back in the car, my three mates having set off at a dead sprint up the road, one peeing himself as he ran!

We were almost a mile up the road before we caught them.

The funny thing is that every time I see the TA ads on telly where they are all dressed up pretending to be soldiers in camo gear, I want to go to the toilet.

Happy days indeed.
(Wed 7th Sep 2005, 12:24, More)

» Best Graffiti Ever

Graffiti
On every "Reward for lost dog" poster I write:

"Tasted like chicken" and then sign it with the name of our local chinese restaurant.

I concede that it is purile and childish but I have been doing it for 22 years and I'm not going to stop.
(Sun 6th May 2007, 5:26, More)

» The Onosecond

Onosecond
Last summer I was on holiday with family in France. having a thoroughly splendid time and forgot to book my return ticket (family staying out for some time etc). The day before my due return I tried to book a ticket and found that the next reasonably available ticket was in a few days. Faced with either paying a huge amount of money to get back to a job that sucks or stay fro a few days longer I texted my boss to ask him if I could have a few more days off. A bit of a long shot but, I thought, worth the try. Imagine my surprise when I received a text response saying something along the lines of "Glad you're enjoying yourself. Take a few more days with pleasure. Why don't you get back for next Monday?". I texted back my gratitude and switched my phone off going back to the pool for the next week.
Imagine my surprise when I was greeted at work the following Monday with the biggest bollocking of my life (and I've had a few). After much confusion it transpired that in entering the whole number I had miss dialled it and my text had been sent to a complete stranger who had clearly only been too delighted to assist. Notwithstanding my absolute innocence I was given a written warning and docked substantial amounts of pay.
Revenge, however, is sweet. I retrieved the number from my phone and rang it intending to bollock the comedian on the other end. It was answered by a bloke who clearly had a business so I asked him if this was the only number for his business; it was. Ha ha. As I work for a telemarketing organisation, I set the power dialler to ring the number whenever it was idle (about every 15 seconds). It was only after three days that the number began coming up as unobtainable and has remained so. Imagine his surprise when, as a result of his little gag, he has had to change all his customers contact details not to mention how much lost business he has had as a result of his phone being out of order!
(Tue 31st May 2005, 11:35, More)