Friday, September 29, 2006
Monday, September 25, 2006
You May Have to Put Your Differences to One Side.
So here's a snippet of conversation which took place in the steel works within the last two weeks.
Tick- "Yeh, not often you hear about a poof/panties incident. The lacier the better in my opinion."
Pips- "Nahh, I like huge Bridget Jones type pants."
Tick- "Oh, so Ideally you'd like to wear your wife's saggy 'Y' fronts?"
Sunday, September 24, 2006
More work needed on that one.
I remember as a very young man leap frogging the parking meters in Piccadilly with my mates. Another drink fueled occasion. One of our number was a bit hesitant to join in. Eventually he shambled up to a meter placed his hands on top and did I kind of strange uncoordinated leap to end up sitting on his own thumbs. He remained balanced upright for a moment then slowly toppled forward, unable to remove his thumbs from under his groin, until his face had described a full arc slamming onto the pavement. As he lay there arse in the air groaning in pain. The rest of us found out what it's like to be lying on the ground, helpless with laughter, as passers by stepped over us.
Sunday, September 10, 2006
One weakness. Not good in unfamiliar situations.
Threading up a galvanising line is a bit like threading up a sewing machine, but the 'thread' is a bit heavier, and the 'machine' a bit bigger.
To this end, Boomer agreed to climb the many flights of stairs to the top of the furnace with an unwieldy reel of webbing for the purpose of attaching to one end of the sheet steel strip and pulling it to the top. Only someone with Boomers determination and strength could have achieved this climb.
When he reached the top he dropped the webbing through the furnace to the bottom as requested.
Would have been better if he'd kept hold of one end and not thrown the lot down.
Wednesday, September 06, 2006
Take Flash, the guy famous for his naked run about the stock bay. Worked on a continuous hot dip galvanising plant for years.
The door of the main process cabin opens and the loud, harsh white noise of the nitrogen blowers kills all conversation. It's Flash clutching a large, empty, glass coffee jar. He waits for the door to close out the din before speaking.
"Hi boys, She's come to dip her jar into the zinc so's she can paint her steel garden gates at the weekend. You don't mind do you?"
Flash called everyone, including himself, 'she'.
The 'boys' stare at him in disbelief. They exchange glances, then look back at Flash.
"It's molten Zinc."
"Aye, I just want a wee bit, just enough to paint my gate."
"Flash, this is not some kind of paint, it's a molten metal at 460 degrees centigrade. If you dip into it, the glass will instantly shatter and you'll most probably burn your fucking hand off. Even if you did somehow manage to get a container full of zinc, it'd be solid as a rock by the time you got it home."
"Is it be fucked!.....forget that then."
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
I'll pass on the menage-a-trois thank you.
For straight young men in the 1970's, the menage a trois was considered the holy grail of sex. Perhaps not so much for the experience but more for the heightened status one might achieve amongst ones peers.
Ginny was a very close friend. Voluptuous, hard drinking, union militant, rock chick from a middle class family. We've laughed, cried and spent much time with each other. Someone to share a glance with without having to speak.
On this particular Saturday night in the lounge of the 'Old Arcade' we were in different groups. I was with my mate Rick at a window table whilst she was standing, as always, at the bar with the guys.
As I went up to the bar to order another round, she intercepted me and asked,
"Tickers, I'm far more 'hammered and stoned' than you've ever seen me before, will you promise me you'll make sure I get home OK?"
She was important to me so I'd have said 'yes' under any circumstances, but with the 'two men to every eligible girl' ratio that existed at the time, the chances of me 'pulling' were relatively slim, so it didn't seem much of a sacrifice.
Later, whilst ordering my next round she asked me again. I reassured her she was safe, I'd not forget her. To be honest, I was flattered that out of all the guys she knew, I was the one she trusted to see her right.
It was about half a pint later when Betty Boop, the girl I considered to be the sexiest lady on the planet, bounced up to me in her usual effervescent style and asked, without pre-amble, if I'd like to spend a night of passion in bed with her and her friend Liz.
My thoughts exploded into many different directions. Imagining them both naked, wondering where, what about Ginny, could I subcontract my responsibilities? And how this might be a once in a life time opportunity.
"I'm sorry Betty, can't do it tonight, I promised Ginny I'd make sure she got home OK."
I couldn't believe the words that came out of my mouth. Would they take a rain check I wondered, but didn't have the nerve to ask.
Betty turned to Rick, "How about you Rick?"
Rick had just lifted his pint of Brains SA and didn't react other than to slowly sup his ale. Equally slowly he placed his drink back down on the bar mat and replied,
"Err, no thanks Betty."
She didn't stop to argue and moved instead to the guys at the bar.
I looked at Rick. I knew he hadn't had sex for some time so I waited for an explanation which didn't come.
"Rick, what's wrong with you? I'd have thought you'd jump at the chance."
"Thing is.." He mused, "...I don't find Liz very attractive."
True she wasn't the prettiest girl, I learned later that she'd been complaining to Betty she couldn't give herself away, Betty had kindly, but very unconventionally, offered to 'throw herself in' to increase the value of the 'Liz package'.
"Never mind that, what about the 'box ticking' factor and what about Betty herself?"
"To be honest" he said, still with no trace of excitement in his voice, "Betty terrifies me."
I couldn't argue with that.