» Dumb things you've done

Management rush
A few decades a go, I was working out in Sunny Sinai doing facilities maintenance steelwork.

One regular request was for cutting old oil barrels for use as road blocks, BBQ's and crap receptacles.

We didn't have the proper facilities for steaming and nitrogen purging. The make-do solution was to wash out and empty any contents into a sand trap, blow compressed air into the barrel for at least 2 minutes then make the cuts.

Not the most elegant solution, but it worked.

I demonstrated the procedure to the local workers and made sure they understood by having them show me the correct procedure. It took about 1/2 an hour per barrel.

While I was on Christmas leave, an order for 50 barrel modifications came in to the workshop.

Riffat (for it was he) started the work following the procedure I had shown him. One of the manager types decided the work wasn't going fast enough and decided the barrels could be cut directly without purging the contents.

When I returned from leave, the joiners supervisor told me he had seen Riffat approach a barrel with the oxy-acetylene torch. There was a flash and bang, fortunately Riffat wasn't standing over the barrel as it shot up in the air.

Luckily, Riffat escaped with a few minor burns and had enough sense to refuse any further barrel cutting work until I came back off leave.

I wasn't too happy about the managers (ex blanket stacker) intervention that nearly killed Riffat.

Another manager told me it was perfectly safe to weld on live fuel lines! So I set up all the gear then called over Hino (for it was he). I told him to show me how safe it was, just give me enough time to get to a safe distance as I wanted to record the moment on camera.

Not surprisingly, he bottled out and the job was put out to the cheapest contractor.

If a fool (manager) asks you to do something stupid, ask them to show you first, from a safe distance.
(Tue 1st Jan 2008, 4:52, More)

» Shit Stories: Part Number Two

Singed rings
I was an apprentice at Furness ship yard in Haverton Hill.

The crappers, under #2 launching slipway, consisted of an inclined trough with constant running water, and individual booths to squat in.

A favourite trick of the apprentices was to get in to the cubicle at the top of the sluice, bundle up some news paper, set it alight and send it along the trough.

This resulted in a Mexican wave of squatters, strong language, usually about the instigators parentage and steel toed boots up the arse (if the instigator didn't scarper fast enough).

This was decades before Beckhams golden balls and ring piece received a Brazilian.

Happy days.
(Sat 29th Mar 2008, 19:52, More)

» I'm going to Hell...

Already been there, not going back
A few decades ago, working for the MFO in South Sinai. The expat Brits had a bar called the "Wild Geese" (we were only there for the money).

It was coming to the end of a quiet night, the 82nds spiritual guide was Father Jim Blewitt, Master Sergeant George was looking for forgiveness.

George asks Jim if he would take confession. No problem, says he, just kneel down under the picture of the Queen.

George mumbled something, Jim thwacked him on the side of the head, and said, "don't do it again, mines a large Jamiesons". A field blessing!

Same place different night. Jeff Tobin and Odd Job re-enacted a scene from a USA TV "preacher", getting the demons out. I laughed so hard I had a nose bleed.

Sad to say, no video available, it was a long time ago.

Where ever you are lads, I hope you are all doing well.

As for those I have fucked over in the past, you deserved it. For those on the waiting list, patience, it's on it's way.

For those two lovely old ladies from the local Baptist Church, you didn't know I was just off a 12 hour night shift, sorry about the towel dropping like that.

As for hell, 15 years in Sunni Saudi, that's enough. Thanks to the decent folks I met, as for the arseholes, pay back is a bitch.

I still believe it's important to treat people with the same respect that you would like to be treat with. For the fuckwits that don't realise this, the gloves are off.

Merry Christmas to all the B3tards, I hope you have a good one.
(Sun 14th Dec 2008, 1:32, More)

» Banks

HSBC Jersey
Woked overseas for 3 decades.
Lucky enough to meet my mates daughter (out on a visit to see her folks).
We clicked, she moved overseas so we could be together.
Married, in Kilwinning, a few more years overseas.
Realised we had enough to retire on.
Home.
I tried to open a wank account, same problem, "sorry sir, you are not on the electoral role".
Opened a joint account with the wifes bank (Clydesdale).
Phoned up HSBC Jersey, I want to close all accounts and transfer all funds to XXXX, hold the line line sir while I transfer you.
The new operative (apparently), only undestands the French language.
My repeated requests, to transfer my funds to another bank proved futile.
So I wrote a cheque (for the balance) and sent it to the Clydesdale joint account.
Two days later, received a snotty letter from the Clydesdale, your cheque has bounced, you owe us £15 administration charges.
Bastards.
Next morning, off to Glasgow for a visit to the first floor suite at the HSBC.
Having presented my credentials, I was ofered tea/coffee/sandwich biscuits, and a "how can we help you sir".
I explained the previous events and asked for my money.
"Would you like a cheque sir?"
No thanks, that doesn't seem to work. Give me my money.
"But we don't keep that much on the premises"
No problem, I will be over the road in the Horshoe bar, give me a shout when it's availble.
And a few hours later, it was.
Well, just to be sure, I would like to see it verified before me. So they set about it.
Happy with the tally, I weighed this in with the local Cldedsdale bank (the manager and a flunky checked the bundles).
The Manageress cancelled the banks red letter.

Don't bank with HSBC Jersey.

Bankers are a cuntch of qw
wunts
(Wed 22nd Jul 2009, 17:40, More)