» Missing body parts

Skin from the waist down

I was in the fitter’s workshop changing some bearings or other when in rushed Wee Johnny McEwan the smallest and dodgyish pieces eating Scottish fitter you'll ever meet. He proceeded to remove his overalls and sprint as fast as his little legs would carry him into the toilets/changing rooms. It was then that a strange eggish sort of smell filled the air. Thinking this must be some sort of hideous trouser filling incident I turned round to see smoke coming from his discarded overalls, upon further inspection and a subtle boot I found his overalls were slowly disintegrating leaving a nice little concave dome in the concrete floor. Being a nosey git I went into the toilets to find Wee John in one of the ablution fountains with an Indian operator holding down the foot pedal and John frantically washing large bits of blistered and burnt skin off his legs off with water. It transpires that to carry out some work on one of the furnaces John needed to isolate the oil feed to the plant; valve height approximately 7ft, now to a six foot fitter no problem. To a four foot six sweaty sock some form of elevation device was required. This took the form of an inconspicuous blue plastic lidded barrel which completely unbeknown to John contained the etching acid for the piston pins we used to make and sell. So up jumped John, stood on the plastic lid which with its inability to hold a small Scotsman gave way immersing him up to at least the waist with acid. Funnily enough shortly after this incident all of the acids were kept in a locked bund wall container and there was talk of a drench shower. The whisper was that John settled on a six figure sum out of court and went on to be a trolley collector at the local Sainsbury’s. Working in this sort of environment people regularly lose fingers or finger tips because they "link out" the safety devices on machines, we had eyes lost and even a pair of feet! but to lose all that skin below the waist without being Jewish? Thank god I'm a desk jockey now!





** Its long and thin, but that’s only because I'm a tight fisted wanker!**
(Mon 5th Jun 2006, 8:12, More)

» Barred

Ha! Bar? Try distillery!
My brothers and I visited the Bushmills distillery in Northern Ireland a few years back. Bushmills and Black Bush are the best whiskeys in the world as far as I’m concerned as they are triple distilled, taste fantastic and are mostly hangover free! Anyhoo they do a guided tour around the plant where your £3.50 entrance fee entitles you to a free double at the end of tour. However at the end of the tour you come into the bar and volunteers are asked for. The task is to drink shots of whiskeys from all around the world and realise how they paled into insignificance to the sweet nectar produced on site. We were picked the first time and after agreeing that the home whiskey was the best got another free double! On exiting the establishment we noted that the next tour in appeared to be a tee-total looking women’s institute outing HOORAH! Another £3.50 later and the quickest arm drawing volunteers we were indeed again comparing whiskeys from around the world with the two doubles closely following. Wallowing and wobbling in our crapulence we decided that another trip would just clarify the distilling process and proceeded to join the next tour which happened to be a German party. Well, let’s just say the Basil Fawlty goose stepping, Excuse me Meister, sausage eating jokes and “We started it? You invaded Poland!” may have grated just a little and rightly so I suppose as the kerfuffle was quite raucous making the previous two tour guides look, compare notes and realise it was our third trip round. We were politely asked to leave and asked not to come back. No bloody hangover though!
(Mon 4th Sep 2006, 15:11, More)

» Personal Hygiene

Not only but torso
A very strange man called Mark used to share a house with two of my mates next door to the rents house.He was very much into CB radio and was allergic to sunlight so rated fairly high on the freak scale, yes he used to smell a bit but worse was to come.He used to go out most nights in his yellow Reliant Robin to see his girlfriend Suzy and on returning one day asked if it would be ok if she could come over to stay for the weekend coming. More out of curiousity his house mates said "yes mate no problem"......
I can vividly remember walking into the house on that Friday afternoon after college and meeting Suzy.
Suzy had no arms and no legs!(Insert slug joke here) Seriously No arms, No Legs! and was the most hiddeous swamp donkey I have ever met. Honestly she could've made an onion cry.
Saying I didnt know where to look is an understatement apart from the giggling mess in the corner that was Steve and Daryll.
After a very short introduction and very swift goodbye she was dispatched under Marks arm and carried upstairs. I dont know if they came out of that room all weekend but I went round on Monday and was greeted my a smell so piercing I wont ever forget it, I suppose you could understand a stagnant fishy smell but we were convinced that there was indeed something dead in that room.
The only smell to get anywhere near it was a visit to a rendering plant a few years later.
(Fri 23rd Mar 2007, 15:12, More)

» Unexpected Good Fortune

Lucky Doggy
Many years ago in our first house we decided the "family" would not be complete without a little bundle of woofing fun. So we visited the local puppy pound to rehome a waif or stray. One lovely little labrador/rotweiler cross who had been badly treated by his male owner leapt out at us all doughy eyed and dribbly, Thats the one we thought and home we went. Not quite house trained, he was kept in the downstairs kitchen with a stairgate to avoid him marking his territory around the house. He was always very nervous around me and was constantly "letting by" if I got within six foot(not surprising as he used to be a punchbag for some twunt)but good as gold with Mrs.HF and the children. Any trust building he had with me dimished one cold dark winter morning at about 06:00. I came downstairs, stepped over the stairgate and lost my footing in a slightly warm squashy pile of 8hr old pedigree chum, over I went landing in various other "mines" to settle on my back with my boxers slowly soaking up something liquidy off the floor, it was then that the dog decided to "bond" and jump all over his master with varying degrees of wet, dried and slightly viscous sh*t still all over him, less than pleased and wretching heavily I pushed him off which meant he skidded across the floor clattering into the cupboards losing any faith he had mustered in me. For obvious reasons we had to find him another home. We chanced our arm as poor and warty at the time and advertised for a good family home in the paper £150. Had a call the night the advert went in, explained the problems but the family came and collected him anyway with us £150 richer. Unfotunately the poor dog wouldnt take to his new male owner and the family asked if we could take him back, We've spent the money we replied. "Oh,...will you take him back anyway?" they said. Reluctantly we did thinking we would have to consult a dog whisperer or alike. So back came the dog and within ten minutes phone rings again. "Still got the dog?"
Oh yes!
£300 made from a free collection puppy. Good home now with a lady and her fellow furry front bottom muncher, no men no problem! Still see the little fellow in the park sometimes!
Kerching!
(Tue 19th Sep 2006, 14:10, More)

» Heckles

Heckles
I do recall one dire evening playing old cliff Richard and beatles songs to a dribbling audience with an average age of 80 at the Southborough Working mens club. It wasn't going too well through the second set so being the flexible three piece we were we asked if there were any requests.
A rousing "Fuck Off" was not the response we expected from the piss and murray mint smelling crowd. That we did, £60 richer each though!
Never did get asked back..


*POP*
(Thu 6th Apr 2006, 14:01, More)