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oily oaf
11th December 2006, 08:43
Good Evening :o

Now looky here. I realise that my stock in the forum is at a bit of a low ebb right now what with me turning to Islam and the Prophet Mohammad (may the shining countenance of Bobby Moore smile benighnly upon him) and that some of you perceive me to be nought but a 2 fisted borderline psychotic brute whos idea of reasoned argument is a good larruping with a weighted cosh.
However I intend to allay your fears and assail your deep misconceptions by announcing proudly and without hesitation that last Tuesday I deliberately and with considerable malice aforethought set fire to my work colleagues apprentice :)
Now before the humanists and faint hearted among you (glances nervously towards Beans x 3) throw up your hands in horror and disgust at my incendiary jape, allow me to set your minds at ease by informing your that the object of my fiery fury is a deeply unpleasant little oik, spotty of visage, ginger of hair and sticky out of ear whose oft voiced opinions on the opposite species and those who are not descended from doughty Anglo Saxon stock would have the most misogynistic member of the White Supremacy Movement furiously jamming the switchboard at The Race Relations board.
That said I shall begin my tale at the point when my guvnor rather impudently requested that I put down my copy of Popular Shipping Bulletin incorporating Low Pressure Lovelies and replace the lower suspension arm and anti roll bar on one of Henry Fords finest.
So with a heavy heart and a curse on my lips I gamely set to.
At this point I couldn't help but notice that my beloved set of Torx wrenches, a vital tool in the aforementioned task were somewhat conspicuous by their absence from my roll cab.
A quick but diligent search of the workshop soon bore fruit as I found the steely little beauties lying warm and snug in the toolbox of the young scallywag mentioned in the above.
With veins pulsing rythemically in my temples and with black murder in my heart I started to prowl the shop for the light fingered lunk.
Eventually I discovered him dozing fitfully in the locker room with his legs propped on a table. Ah bless.
Never being a man to miss the main chance I nipped out and seized a syphon pump of highly inflammable but rather delicious brake cleaning fluid and proceeded to douse his lower calf and ankle with the explosive elixir :)
A quick flick of my Zippo set the whole thing off very nicely as I quickly took up position outside the room to await results.
I wasn't kept waiting long as the door soon burst open and the slightly flustered figure of the blazing little bugger raced across the workshop to the gentleman's retreats and the watery respite that lay within its portals.
At this point my long suffering chum Tony who has the unenviable task of trying to instill a modicum of engineering skill into the ginger little twunt, glanced up from his Racing Press and somewhat laconically observed "Blimey! Look at that mate. It's the ******* 'uman torch."
The following day my joy was complete as the nicely singed jackanapes morosely told us over a bacon sarnie that when he had removed his "Tilburys" (hosiery) that evening several layers of skin had come off with 'em :)
I hope that this brief albeit searing tale (see what I....... etc) will go some way towards enhancing my standing amongst our little community and that the lurid rumours that I live my life according to the Ronnie Kray doctrine that "If you can make people afraid of you, you can achieve anything in life" can be finally and once and for all be put firmly to bed :imu:

I wonder have any of you ever assaulted, maimed or even murdered a work colleague who has given you a spot of the ravin' ump.
G'wan. You can tell me, I'm a mechanic.

Next week:

How I wired the wages bird's ignition to a cylinder of acetylene after she worked out my tax all wrong.

This was brought to you by The Health And Safety At Work Council.

CarlMetro
11th December 2006, 11:01
It was a long, long time ago, shortly before I completed my apprenticeship.

As third-year apprentice there seemed to be some sort of unwritten rule that we were responsible for 'inducting' the newbies, as well as showing them basic stuff like how not to loose a finger when using a band-saw.

We had probably one of the most annoying little sh1ts appear as part of our intake but about a month after the rest of the newbies, we will call him Nick for the purpose of this post, for that was his name. Well what this 16 year old didn't know about life, the universe and woodworking machinery was no body's business. Every time I tried to show him something all you would hear was "Yeah, I know".

Now there was a strict dress code in the pattern-shop involving work coats (think Doctors) The charge-hand wore blue, qualified pattern-makers wore white and apprentices wore brown. All except for Nick, who decided that he would wear a pair of green all in one overalls.

One particular tea break, after spending most of the day listening to Nick tell him how to do a particularly intricate job, one of the senior pattern-makers lost it. He grabbed Nick by the throat and, with the help of myself and a couple of others managed to pin him to the project drawing wall. A brief bust of rapid fire from a pneumatic nail gun left Nick spread-eagled and pinned neatly to the wall, using his all in one overalls to suspend him about 2' off the ground. A quick application of several layers of masking tape around the mouth left the job complete and we returned to the tearoom.

We returned to work, leaving Nick pinned to the wall, even the charge-hand walked up to him, made sure he wasn't going to fall off and then walked away again. They did insist that we got him down before we went home and there was a notice appeared on the board about inappropriate use of company property but Nick was somewhat more subdued after that ;)

Azumanga Davo
11th December 2006, 11:13
All I want to know though:

Did the Human Torch ever get his bank loan? :p :

oily oaf
11th December 2006, 11:19
It was a long, long time ago, shortly before I completed my apprenticeship.

As third-year apprentice there seemed to be some sort of unwritten rule that we were responsible for 'inducting' the newbies, as well as showing them basic stuff like how not to loose a finger when using a band-saw.

We had probably one of the most annoying little sh1ts appear as part of our intake but about a month after the rest of the newbies, we will call him Nick for the purpose of this post, for that was his name. Well what this 16 year old didn't know about life, the universe and woodworking machinery was no body's business. Every time I tried to show him something all you would hear was "Yeah, I know".

Now there was a strict dress code in the pattern-shop involving work coats (think Doctors) The charge-hand wore blue, qualified pattern-makers wore white and apprentices wore brown. All except for Nick, who decided that he would wear a pair of green all in one overalls.

One particular tea break, after spending most of the day listening to Nick tell him how to do a particularly intricate job, one of the senior pattern-makers lost it. He grabbed Nick by the throat and, with the help of myself and a couple of others managed to pin him to the project drawing wall. A brief bust of rapid fire from a pneumatic nail gun left Nick spread-eagled and pinned neatly to the wall, using his all in one overalls to suspend him about 2' off the ground. A quick application of several layers of masking tape around the mouth left the job complete and we returned to the tearoom.

We returned to work, leaving Nick pinned to the wall, even the charge-hand walked up to him, made sure he wasn't going to fall off and then walked away again. They did insist that we got him down before we went home and there was a notice appeared on the board about inappropriate use of company property but Nick was somewhat more subdued after that ;)

Ah a deeply disturbed murderous physcotic after my own heart Carl ;)

No Beemer he didn't get his wonga
Apparently he'd taken out a small unprotected loan before and they ended up getting their fingers burnt.

I'm here until the buggers pay me :mad:

slinkster
11th December 2006, 11:24
I wonder have any of you ever assaulted, maimed or even murdered a work colleague who has given you a spot of the ravin' ump..

Nope... but I've thought about it many times. If you ever wanted to take up this line of work though I'd gladly pay you to set fire to my boss.

oily oaf
11th December 2006, 11:42
Nope... but I've thought about it many times. If you ever wanted to take up this line of work though I'd gladly pay you to set fire to my boss.

Slinky quite frankly I'm shocked my dear.
I had you down as a sweet and imminently cuddly girlie girl not some kind of maniacal pyrotechnic loon with a deep seated hatred of authoritarian figures and with flecks of drool clearly evident at the corners of your mouth :eek: .

PS. Light superficial maimings £25, permanent hideous disfigurement £57.50 and murderous blood fests 100 squiddlies + hatchet cleaning and resharpening expenses :vader:

Knock-on
11th December 2006, 12:17
I've a warming little tale that will appeal to the scandal mongers out there.

It nearly was a couple of years ago and I had accepted a position with a company that shall remain nameless as a Senior Sales Executive. I was due to start the first day of a new quarter and they invited me to the end of quarter party the night before.

Now, this was a time when I had suffered a rather embarrassing motorbike injury and had recently been released from the Royal Surrey after a couple of weeks holiday where they reconstructed the bottom part of my left leg. Far from being able to do my usual dance routine (a cross between the Lambada, Ballet and Limbo), I was instead relegated to hobbling around with a grimace muttering that it didn't hurt a bit.

I should have mentioned that this bash was fancy dress and the object of my ire was dressed as a Cardinal in Army boots and was prone to shouting "Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition" in a rapidly degenerating, annoying way that only the onslaught of copious amounts of Alcohol can generate.

Well, the aperitifs gave way to the wine which then begat the arrival of various shots ranging from the traditional Tequila to some foul tasting firewater with floating bits of flecked metal. Something had to be done and done quick!!

Now, if you don't know what Vopob is, I suggest you remain in blissful ignorance. It is a cunning creation from two twisted and sadistic member of this forum that shall remain nameless. However, it slides down quicker than a tarts knickers and finds little cavities of your body to get covertly drunk so you don't realise it. It's not until you try to say something intelligent, wonder why you're standing up, back to front and inside out, that you realise you've been Vopob'd.

So, we all had a few Large Vopobs and my ecclesiastical friend became more interested in maintaining a perpendicular relationship with the floor than being an annoying little prig.

And then it all went wrong!!!

A taxi was called and a nightclub mentioned. However, one look from the Taxi at a violently weaving Cardinal homing in on his Datsun Sunny brought shrieks of warning from the poor chap that there was no way he was taking the subject. Pleading, offers of cash and the promise of multiple virgins when he met Allah were not sufficient to bribe the poor chap to take us and as he drove off, "Gob-U-Like" thought he would hammer on his window, forgetting his dress and tripped, banging his head on the bumper of the accelerating Taxi.

Never one to pass up a challenge, we secured the services of an equally salubrious Limousine driven by a gentlemen without the commonsense of his cousin who had left us beside the road and buggered off. Smart cookie!!

We arrived to the Nightclub and I hobbled over to the Entrance with my Sales Director who I was meeting for the first time. Things were getting better.... NOT!

As I hobbled to the door, the Bouncer kindly advised me not to let the taxi go as "There is NO way we're letting HIM in".

I turned to appraise the source of his ire and spied the Cardinal, face on the tarmac, legs still in the cab with his robe around his ears and sporting a black pair of Latex Boxers.

:rolleyes:

Lets face it, after that little stunt, there was no way we were going to get into the establishment, were we.

So, we trudged back to the Cab where Cardinal Chaos took umbrage at his disgraceful treatment by the bouncers and the vile and cowardly slur on his good name by insinuating he may be 3 sheets to the wind. At this point, all 10 stones and 5ft 4 inches flung himself against the unyielding Behemoth that was squeezed into the largest Monkey suit he could find and I assume might be classed as a bouncer. It made David and Goliath look like a fair fight.

I had just about had enough by now and hobbled over to the commotion where the bouncer had realised there was a little Jack Russel, dressed in a Cape trying to either reach up to hit him or shag his leg. It was hard to tell which.

Taking the Caped Crusaders discarded sash, I proceeded to wrap it around the owners throat and drag him backwards to the still waiting cab :s hock: with my Sales Director waiting in it. My leg was killing me and I wanted to go home so I chucked him in the back with the Director and slunk into the front seat, grateful the night was at an end.

Wrong!!

2 miles down the road, His Holiness decides to find some grievance with his Bosses, bosses, boss and started trying to knock his block off in the back of the cab. The cabbie pulled over and our friend, once subdued, complained of being sick whereupon he opened the door, lifted his robe and ran off into the night.

I looked at the SD, he at me and both simultaneously shouted DRIVE to the cabbie.

My first day on the job was interesting the following morning, I can tell you.

oily oaf
11th December 2006, 12:47
Ag ag ag ag ag ag

Knockie I cant tell you how reassuring it is to know that our burgeoning captains of industry are such a temperate and unfalteringly dedicated bunch

Knock-on
11th December 2006, 12:52
Ag ag ag ag ag ag

Knockie I cant tell you how reassuring it is to know that our burgeoning captains of industry are such a temperate and unfalteringly dedicated bunch


(Doffs cap and bows)

All in a days work Oily my boy. Slave to the cause me :D