» Child Labour

Dr Doolittle I ain't
Summer job at a vet’s, age 14- plenty of nasty, scary moments, I can tell you, but I'll just pick one:

The worst ever was the giant dog that started having a very large, very slow poo when it was being operated on. The sadistic head vet asked me to “catch it as it comes out.” The sensation of gently supporting a steaming hot dog log (in hands protected only by membrane-thin see-through gloves) as it slowly oozes out of an unconscious Alsatian’s anus is one that will go with me to the grave. The hound from hell wasn't helping push at all- he took at least twenty minutes from peeking tip to slithery finish, FFS.

However, it was quite fun playing with floppy anesthetised cats: much less scratchy than normal, and oh so poseable. But I stopped doing that when one weed on me.

I don’t see why I should apologise for length- the dog certainly didn’t.

P.S. But lest I forget, I was being paid £2.50 an hour, so it wasn't all bad.
(Mon 20th Feb 2006, 17:30, More)

» Teenage Parties

Pirates!
Parents away, we decided to have a pirate themed party. Much pillaging, rum drinking and yo ho ho-ing ensued. Everyone got really into their costumes, there were Blackbeards, Captain Hooks and Jake The Pegs everywhere. And wenches. We played shanties and all sorts. Tremendous fun. Cleared away all piratical evidence the following morning- there was narry a gold earring, piece of eight or parrot feather to be seen.

Four whole months later I came down to breakfast to be asked "WHY IS OUR HOUSE FULL OF PIRATES?" by an irate mother clutching a lovely set of home delivered Truprint snaps. Apparently she couldn't remember using up an entire roll of film on her camera but had sent it off anyway to see what was on it. There was one particularly good shot of two pirates (actually trying to use her exercise bike at the same time) apparently bumming each other.

(Oh, and Long John Silver never apologizes- the clue's in the name.)
(Thu 13th Apr 2006, 11:22, More)

» Airport Stories

The Flying Doctor
Airports might be annoying, but you do miss them when they're not there.

Travelling in true wanky student hippy style round Cambodia in 2001, myself and a couple of mates hired mopeds. Muppet mate somehow manages to fall off whilst going about 5 mph on soft grass. The fall didn't look bad- it was practically in slow motion and everyone's first reaction was to laugh, including the muppet mate. When he instinctively tried to leap up, his laugh turned to a scream as he noticed his dislocated ankle. There was some debate about popping it back in again, which we luckily didn't attempt- it later turned out the leg was also broken in three places.

Anyway.

We got him back to the no-hospital village we were staying in. We'd originally got there by jeep as there weren't any roads, but he was in no condition to do the skull-rattling off-road bounce back to the capital city, where the nearest hospital was.

Enter the Flying Doctor.

The Flying Doctor was an Australian chap who sounded (and later turned out to look) like a cross between Rolf Harris and a serial killer. We contacted said medic via a primitive village telephone: "G'day. Yeah. No. His leg, eh? I see. Sure mate. Yeah. Siem Riep? I'll come and getcha. No problem, mate." He then rang off before we had a chance to explain what we'd assumed might be a hitch in his plan to fly out to us in a small plane and pilot us back to safety: the village had no airport.

Five hours later, with muppet mate going grey and passing out every so often, having had no painkillers apart from some paracetamol, we're beginning to despair. But all is not lost. The following memory is best soundtracked to the Ride Of The Valkyries- what's that on the horizon? A tiny speck, growing bigger and bigger... Can you guess what it is yet? Heaven praise the noble Flying Doctor, he's here to save us. But where will he land? He's getting closer, lower... There's no runway, he'll have to turn around and go back again! Woe. But no, the Cambodian villagers tending their crops must instead sprint for their lives as The Flying Doctor lands his aeroplane in their main rice field, scattering mud and crops and triangular hats everywhere. He rolls to a stop, having wrecked most of the field, then jumps out and runs up to us with a cheeky cackle, like he'd just done a slightly dodgy u-turn or something.

I'll add the guilt over excessive length to the daily weight of knowing I was partially responsible for depriving an entire Cambodian village of their livelihood.
(Fri 3rd Mar 2006, 13:04, More)

» Sacked

Ah, Zebidee...
Zebidee probably wasn't his real name, but there was this old Jamaican chap at the cold-calling double glazing call centre I worked at for two weeks who got fired for paying tribute to the humour of Sid James.

Specifically, Zebidee was sacked for his regular response to female potential customers who attempted to rebuff his sales pitch by informing him they'd already had their double glazing done: "I'm very glad to hear that madam, but can I confirm that you've been done in the front and the rear?"
(Fri 24th Feb 2006, 17:42, More)

» School Sports Day

Skive
Spent sports day in the upper sixth having a shag in the woods above the field. I came last.
(Tue 4th Apr 2006, 18:48, More)