My Job, My Hell...

Share a survival experience with us and explain what you learned from it. You might help someone.

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Laager
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Mon Oct 12, 2015 11:39 pm

SAEP wrote:Oh yes, airborne. My brother had a pretty good story.

First, for the legs out there (non-airborne) a few bits of terminology. A "streamer" is what happens if your chute won't open. Streams out behind you and doesn't do you a lick of good. Very sad. A "Mae West" occurs when one of the shrouds loops over the canopy, pulling it from a circle to a much smaller figure 8. With less area to catch air, you fall a good deal faster than you should. Again, very sad. Finally, a bit of technique. If you're not falling as fast as you might, and you need to deploy your reserve chute, your airspeed may not be high enough to reliably inflate the chute, so it's important to grab an edge of the chute to start it inflating. So.

After his third jump at Ft. Benning, my bother was standing around waiting to move out when another drop occurred. As luck would have it, one of the jumpers got a Mae West, and was coming down way too fast. The NCO with the bullhorn called out "Will the man with the Mae West activate his reserve chute!" Well, he tried, but the reserve streamered. As he approached the ground at speed the NCO called, "Will the man with the Mae West and the reserve streamer prepare for crash landing!"

As it happened , the jumper had been a circus acrobat before he ran away and joined the Army, and he executed a perfect PLF (parachute landing fall) and came up basically unharmed.

A hardcore bunch, those NCOs.



One of my favorites is......Shut up and crutch on!!

Lil was shocked, but the rest of us started laughing. A DI yelled that at one of his recruits limping behind the formation on crutches.

The Air Force was truly a kinder more gentle service......we are not allowed to watch any of Lil's friends video of AF bootcamp....because we always laugh.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Wed Oct 21, 2015 3:18 pm

Well I went to the range last weekend and took the grand-kids..........

Things went well until we stopped at McDonald's, met Lil, her mom and Bec and it promptly went down hill from there.

Never ever say You have to slap it like you would a Filipino bar girl, evidently your Filipino wife understands that you may or may not be brain damaged or socially inept (but she draws the line when the grand-kids repeat the words that come out of my mouth), but your Filipino MIL will more than likely not approve (not that I care what she thinks of me, evidently the grand-kids are being damaged by the words that come out of my mouth as well as my actions), she will of course never let you live it down.

Right when that calmed down one of the grand-kids said we had a feckin' good time....Lil was not amused. I did point out that in Ireland Feck is socially acceptable and is even considered to be family friendly, while the F-word is not.

It was pointed out that while I may be of Irish decent, we do not live in Ireland and if I teach the grand-kids anymore bad language, something will be cut off.

Then the four year old (who did not go shooting, but evidently had been listening) asked what a gobshit was.....I immediately said (without really thinking) Peanut........it's gobshite not gobshit.......which earned me a pop to the back of the head.


I did point out that I said bar girl instead of hooker but that did not make things better..........
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Fri Oct 23, 2015 9:29 pm

Back when I was working we had a really nice break room and someone in the building was a food/snack/drink thief.

What was worse was the thief used to steal from me......what made it really bad was the rotten thief would go through my drawer and steal my Yema candy.

Now I should point out that Lil would either get someone that was going home (to the PI) to buy a box of Yema for me or she would do it herself if she went home.

Yema Candy is only found in the PI.

I used to keep my Yema in the break room fridge, because I like them cold but then they started to disappear. So I decided to just keep them in my desk drawer.

They stopped disappearing for awhile, but then I noticed they were disappearing at a faster rate than what I would consider to be normal. Then to make things worse the Yema thief started to leave the wrapper on my desk top calendar.

So I started leaving my Yema out in my vehicle. Which worked really well, but was a huge pain in the rear end because when I wanted to eat one, I would have to walk out to the vehicle and get one, then walk back. Of course I was then restricted to only doing it during the union mandated break times of 0900 - 0915 and then 1400 - 1415.

I even tried to lock them in my desk, but the desks we had were easy to break into.....as was evidenced by the Yema wrappers that would appear on my desk top calendar.

Lil started making Ube cake for Christmas and well while it is not (at least to me) equal to Yema it is okay.........so I brought some to work and the entire darn cake vanished and the plate was put on my desk top calendar.

Did you know that you can add Ipecac syrup to Ube cake?

I found out who the thief was............
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Mad Mike » Sat Oct 24, 2015 10:06 am

Laager wrote:Back when I was working we had a really nice break room and someone in the building was a food/snack/drink thief.

What was worse was the thief used to steal from me......what made it really bad was the rotten thief would go through my drawer and steal my Yema candy.

Now I should point out that Lil would either get someone that was going home (to the PI) to buy a box of Yema for me or she would do it herself if she went home.

Yema Candy is only found in the PI.

I used to keep my Yema in the break room fridge, because I like them cold but then they started to disappear. So I decided to just keep them in my desk drawer.

They stopped disappearing for awhile, but then I noticed they were disappearing at a faster rate than what I would consider to be normal. Then to make things worse the Yema thief started to leave the wrapper on my desk top calendar.

So I started leaving my Yema out in my vehicle. Which worked really well, but was a huge pain in the rear end because when I wanted to eat one, I would have to walk out to the vehicle and get one, then walk back. Of course I was then restricted to only doing it during the union mandated break times of 0900 - 0915 and then 1400 - 1415.

I even tried to lock them in my desk, but the desks we had were easy to break into.....as was evidenced by the Yema wrappers that would appear on my desk top calendar.

Lil started making Ube cake for Christmas and well while it is not (at least to me) equal to Yema it is okay.........so I brought some to work and the entire darn cake vanished and the plate was put on my desk top calendar.

Did you know that you can add Ipecac syrup to Ube cake?

I found out who the thief was............

I saw the same thing happen with chocolate pudding and several boxes of exlax..

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Oct 24, 2015 11:34 am

Mad Mike wrote:
Laager wrote:Back when I was working we had a really nice break room and someone in the building was a food/snack/drink thief.

What was worse was the thief used to steal from me......what made it really bad was the rotten thief would go through my drawer and steal my Yema candy.

Now I should point out that Lil would either get someone that was going home (to the PI) to buy a box of Yema for me or she would do it herself if she went home.

Yema Candy is only found in the PI.

I used to keep my Yema in the break room fridge, because I like them cold but then they started to disappear. So I decided to just keep them in my desk drawer.

They stopped disappearing for awhile, but then I noticed they were disappearing at a faster rate than what I would consider to be normal. Then to make things worse the Yema thief started to leave the wrapper on my desk top calendar.

So I started leaving my Yema out in my vehicle. Which worked really well, but was a huge pain in the rear end because when I wanted to eat one, I would have to walk out to the vehicle and get one, then walk back. Of course I was then restricted to only doing it during the union mandated break times of 0900 - 0915 and then 1400 - 1415.

I even tried to lock them in my desk, but the desks we had were easy to break into.....as was evidenced by the Yema wrappers that would appear on my desk top calendar.

Lil started making Ube cake for Christmas and well while it is not (at least to me) equal to Yema it is okay.........so I brought some to work and the entire darn cake vanished and the plate was put on my desk top calendar.

Did you know that you can add Ipecac syrup to Ube cake?

I found out who the thief was............

I saw the same thing happen with chocolate pudding and several boxes of exlax..


Done that as well when my brownies vanished as well as substituted tobacco juice/spit for soda. As much as most of those people were paid you would think they could afford their own snacks and drinks.

But I think they just liked to take things from people, figuring there would never be any consequences.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by ZombieGranny » Sat Oct 24, 2015 11:55 am

Laager wrote:As much as most of those people were paid you would think they could afford their own snacks and drinks.

But I think they just liked to take things from people, figuring there would never be any consequences.
I think you have that exactly right.
I've seen bosses steal from employee lunches when the bosses make literally 10 times as much, and the employees are scraping bottom.
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Wed Nov 04, 2015 10:38 pm

I recently learned from my 8 year old niece and my five year old grand daughter that I am Emotionally Destink and Inmanure, because I spend a lot of time working on a project i picked up last spring (a 1973 Ford Pinto) and evidently men are or maybe it is just me are to lazy to spend time talking to women........I do believe I will spend some more time working on the Pinto..... evidently this is an issue with all men.....I actually had to stop working on the car.

I was going to ask who the women were, but decided to quit while I was ahead they eventually left..........

After thinking about it for a bit, I decided that I'm going with emotionally distant and immature, but hey what do I really know....they could be 100% correct...although I'm pretty sure that McDonald's Happy Meals do not come with a choice of Apply Slices or yourguts.

I asked Lil about it a few minutes ago.....she said she did not know what they were talking about........so evidently it must be another emotionally destink and inmanure male who is EDI challenged.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Viper shtf » Fri Nov 06, 2015 9:16 pm

Why a Pinto? That's the real question here.
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by feanor » Mon Nov 16, 2015 7:13 pm

I've got no interesting long stories, just a couple of close calls working as a scaffolder. Friday, second week on the job. I was on the rope sending material up, just sent three platforms up. These are three meter long by seventy centimetres aluminium frames with some dense plywood reminiscent material as flooring. They weigh about 10-12 kilos new which these were not so add a kilo or two of caked on crap from countless building sites.
So I've just sent up three of them and start picking up some smaller bits to send up next.
So I'm standing there bent at the waist when one of the platforms slips under the railings and hurtles down bent on my destruction from ten meters up, short end first.
My co-worker shouts but too late, it knocks my helmet of, scrapes my shoulder and hits my forearm on the meaty outside, just below the elbow. All of this knocks me down and I'm quite stunned and bewildered as to what the f happened. My colleague only sees my helmet knocked of and me going down so he's sure I'm dead and he runs down, heart in his throat only to find me laying there asking "wtf happened?"
Ran the numbers later and the kinetic energy was about what Wikipedia tells me is the muzzle energy of a magnum 44 bullet missing dead center of my head and/or neck by 10-15 cm, so I don't think it's too much of a stretch to say I was that close to certain death. Trip by ambulance to check my arm, x-ray says nothing's broken. Hurts like a sob but it got knocked out of the way so the bill ended up being just a couple of scratches on my shoulder, a small laceration on my forearm and basically the whole forearm being a deep tissue bruise. Stiff, blue and yellow through and through. Miniscule price to pay to cheat the reaper, wouldn't you say?
:)
Lessons learned
1, always keep an eye on the sky when at a construction site.
2, the lower plank, called a kick plank directly translated, the third piece of railing, is pretty effing important. It's called a kick plank because it stops debris getting kicked down by unwary workers.

Unless you're laager nobody's out to get you on the site, but everybody's got a little malevolent idiot in them that is and it can pop out at any time so you might as well expect everyone is out to kill you, just not all the time. So yeah, complacency does kill.

Edit: Ran the numbers again, messed up doubling it, changed back. Sry.
Last edited by feanor on Tue Nov 17, 2015 10:13 am, edited 1 time in total.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by feanor » Tue Nov 17, 2015 3:50 am

It keeps it's helmet on it's head or it gets it's head caved in.

Me and my colleague are to build a scaffold in a stairwell so the painters can reach. Because, you know, putting an extension on the freaking roller is just too much to ask of these primadonnas.
The stairs are half a floor, then a landing, and the next stair makes you double back in a zig zag pattern so you'd pass a person following you a couple of steps behind you. There's about a four inch gap between the stairs and that is the key piece of information in this story.
We're to build it in the basement, I'm the junior scaffolder so I lug the material from the outside in and down half a floor and hand it down to my colleague.
He's down there putting it together while I stand by for further instructions and suddenly there's the noise of a plastic helmet being struck and the clunk of metal hitting concrete. "Tap, clunk" just like that, out of nowhere. My colleague takes off his helmet when nothing more seems to happen and the back of it is cracked in two. He looks about himself and finds a two pound chunk of steel behind him. From the angle and the placement of the crack we surmised that if not for the helmet deflecting it he'd most likely have a fractured c6 - c7 vertebrae. Neither a paraplegic or dead as a result seemed to be very far fetched since we found out the most likely source was a guy sweeping on the sixth floor which would mean it fell 18 meters down a four inch gap without hitting anything on the way since we heard nothing.
If it'd struck anything it would have been the metal handrail, if you tap it on the top floor with the ring on your finger you can hear it in the basement. We heard absolutely nothing and I was leaning on it while waiting.

The lesson learned is as indicated by the title, rain or shine, hot or not, the helmet stays on your noggin.
Even if you're sure nothing can happen, keep it on if at all possible. Heat stroke beats dead any and every day of the week.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by feanor » Mon Nov 30, 2015 10:15 am

Did I kill the thread or does anyone want more?

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by sheddi » Mon Nov 30, 2015 1:48 pm

feanor wrote:Did I kill the thread or does anyone want more?
More, bring 'em on!
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by feanor » Mon Nov 30, 2015 3:58 pm

Cool. So at the site that saw me getting snuggled by a platform at near terminal velocity but a different house. Tearing down the scaffold, deconstruction is always expected to go at least twice the speed of building so every snag is extra stressful. It's winter and snowy but it's more of a slush and just humid enough to suck heat out of you seemingly regardless of what you wear. This is taking place on the roof top so it's windy too.
The scaffold is encased in plastic so the plaster doesn't freeze and crumble to crap. This plastic, of course, needs to come down first.
Unfortunately a roofer thought it was a good idea to have a pallet of half inch pipe lengthwise down the slope of the roof leaning on this very plastic we're taking down. We didn't see this since the plastic is pretty opaque so we're tugging away at it, swearing over whatever's got it stuck, thinking ice or something.
Finally it yanks free and we're staring down what looks like 40 or 50 barrels, what's worse is they're moving so instinctively I duck as does my colleague. Now I should have tried to stop them even though I surely would have failed. Maybe I could have stopped ten-fifteen of them, but no, fight or flight reaction opted for flight this time.
As I reach crouch it hits me that of course now there is nothing between these 40ish spears and the third in our group except 25 meters of air. So I turn in my crouch and shout a warning as this hail of steel pipes slides over my head about to rain death on everyone standing below. Luckily our ground guy had wandered off while we were struggling with the plastic just 20-30 seconds before having finished closing off the area around the section we were taking down.
While this drama unfolds the very same roofer whose idiocy caused all this watched on talking on the phone, SOB had the phone up to his face the whole time. Completely unconcerned.
Now that I think about it. He didn't even seem to care that his own job now got delayed. Very strange cat indeed.
Needless to say, our ground guy did not take it in stride as this emotionless roofer. Of course it's a jolt to know that you'd be dead if it hadn't been for whatever, but he took it too far, whining and pouting for hours. Had to remind him nothing actually happened to him.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by shrapnel » Tue Dec 01, 2015 1:59 pm

I'm a phlebotomist in a hospital now.

(5 am, on a perfectly lucid patient)

"Hi, sir, we know you don't want to be bothered this early and we are very sorry but this is a very important antibiotic level test and the doctors really really ne-"

"Every single morning since I've been here, people from the lab come down here and every single morning I tell them they can do whatever they want AFTER 6:30, but before then it's MY TIME. If you folks come down here and bother me again tomorrow I'll follow you back to your lab and slit your throats."

:shock:

"OK then."

*rapid exit*
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sat Dec 05, 2015 9:48 pm

Viper shtf wrote:Why a Pinto? That's the real question here.


A friend gave it to me, and I was bored......so I tore the engine down, cleaned it up, replaced some parts, hoses and fan belts. Everything else was in good condition, except for the paint job.

Then I was bored, and put it back in the workshop and replaced the brakess and some seals, bearings and shocks.

Mostly I was hiding.........

Pretty soon it will go to my cousins oldest Granddaughter, once she gets her driver's license............and I will have to find something else to occupy my time and keep me out of the house.

Went to our grandchildren's Christmas Play and show.......it was going really well right up until the oldest granddaughter was pushed by a boy....she glared at him, then gave him the I'm watching you hand sign, people started laughing....so he pushed her again....she told him that she was going to slap him like you slap a Filipino Hooker.....and if that didn't work she was going to punch him in the throat.

I immediately left........but could feel the glares as I made my way out of the church.
Last edited by Laager on Mon Jan 11, 2016 9:22 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Stercutus » Sat Dec 05, 2015 9:57 pm

shrapnel wrote:I'm a phlebotomist in a hospital now.

(5 am, on a perfectly lucid patient)

"Hi, sir, we know you don't want to be bothered this early and we are very sorry but this is a very important antibiotic level test and the doctors really really ne-"

"Every single morning since I've been here, people from the lab come down here and every single morning I tell them they can do whatever they want AFTER 6:30, but before then it's MY TIME. If you folks come down here and bother me again tomorrow I'll follow you back to your lab and slit your throats."

:shock:

"OK then."

*rapid exit*
I'd would report whoever the hell that was. Don't care who they think they are. You are just begging to breed workplace violence.
Laager wrote:
Viper shtf wrote:Why a Pinto? That's the real question here.


A friend gave it to me, and I was bored......so I tore the engine down, cleaned it up, replaced some parts, hoses and fan belts. Everything else was in good condition, except for the paint job.

Then I was bored, and put it back in the workshop and replaced the breaks and some seals, bearings and shocks.

Mostly I was hiding.........

Pretty soon it will go to my cousins oldest Granddaughter, once she gets her driver's license............and I will have to find something else to occupy my time and keep me out of the house.
She must have really pissed you off to go to all that trouble.
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by shrapnel » Sun Dec 06, 2015 7:29 am

The follow up to Stabby is that he was on our list again the next morning. While we were warned about him at morning huddle, this wasn't super effective because huddle is at 0615 and we start rounds at 0200 or 0300. So another phlebotomist wandered into his room and got yelled at, but she somehow convinced him to let her draw his blood.

He finally got a sign on his door and now we don't have to bother him.


Death threats seem to be pretty common. There were 3 last week that I know of- Stabby; a guy who told a coworker he was going to strangle her (response: she squared up and suggested that he give it his best shot. Dude calmed down after that); and a billion year old lady who told another coworker that she was going to chase her down and kill her, a statement that was hilarious considering that she was there for hip surgery and couldn't even roll over without help.

What I'm saying is, Stabby really scared my trainer but other than that nobody seems to give much of a fuck. Hospitals seem to be their own kind of place.
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shrapnel wrote:Darling, I would never fondle your sphenoid.
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Viper shtf » Sun Dec 06, 2015 12:53 pm

Laager wrote:
Viper shtf wrote:Why a Pinto? That's the real question here.


A friend gave it to me, and I was bored......so I tore the engine down, cleaned it up, replaced some parts, hoses and fan belts. Everything else was in good condition, except for the paint job.

Then I was bored, and put it back in the workshop and replaced the breaks and some seals, bearings and shocks.

Mostly I was hiding.........

Pretty soon it will go to my cousins oldest Granddaughter, once she gets her driver's license............and I will have to find something else to occupy my time and keep me out of the house.

Went to our grandchildren's Christmas Play and show.......it was going really well right up until the oldest granddaughter was pushed by a boy....she glared at him, then gave him the I'm watching you hand sign, people started laughing....so he pushed her again....she told him that she was going to slap him like you slap a Filipino Hooker.....and if that didn't work she was going to punch him in the throat.

I immediately left........but could feel the glares as I made my way out of the church.
Fair enough boss.
I bet that boy stopped after that, didn't he?
PistolPete wrote:Seriously, fashion is dumb. But my wife likes the way they make my ass look or the way you can follow the veins on my balls through the denim or something. Whatever. I can dress up once in a while.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Sun Dec 06, 2015 3:11 pm

Viper shtf wrote:
Laager wrote:
Viper shtf wrote:Why a Pinto? That's the real question here.


A friend gave it to me, and I was bored......so I tore the engine down, cleaned it up, replaced some parts, hoses and fan belts. Everything else was in good condition, except for the paint job.

Then I was bored, and put it back in the workshop and replaced the brakes and some seals, bearings and shocks.

Mostly I was hiding.........

Pretty soon it will go to my cousins oldest Granddaughter, once she gets her driver's license............and I will have to find something else to occupy my time and keep me out of the house.

Went to our grandchildren's Christmas Play and show.......it was going really well right up until the oldest granddaughter was pushed by a boy....she glared at him, then gave him the I'm watching you hand sign, people started laughing....so he pushed her again....she told him that she was going to slap him like you slap a Filipino Hooker.....and if that didn't work she was going to punch him in the throat.

I immediately left........but could feel the glares as I made my way out of the church.
Fair enough boss.
I bet that boy stopped after that, didn't he?

Those cars a pretty simple and easy to work on, at least compared to the new cars. Our son has a 96 Bronco and you have to almost pull the engine to drop the oil pan, just to change the seal to stop a leak.

Let's just say she has punched a few boys and girls and then they stop....or so far they have.

Of course it is my fault.........for sending her to Karate lessons and telling her she has to be able to take care of herself.......and well I will admit to saying Slap it like a Filipino Bar Girl.......but I did not say hooker.

There's a guy down the road that has three old International trucks (there's is a 74 Travelall, a 77 Scout II and the other is a 50's metro van, I think it was an old milk delivery van) and my friend says they might let me have one if I drag it off), the metro van seems interesting but I am currently leaning towards the travelall for my next project.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by feanor » Mon Dec 07, 2015 12:10 am

Laager wrote:she told him that she was going to slap him like you slap a Filipino Hooker.....and if that didn't work she was going to punch him in the throat.

I immediately left........but could feel the glares as I made my way out of the church.
She said "Imma slap you like a Filipino hooker!" in church?That's the most beautiful thing I've read.

Laager
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Mon Dec 07, 2015 1:39 am

feanor wrote:
Laager wrote:she told him that she was going to slap him like you slap a Filipino Hooker.....and if that didn't work she was going to punch him in the throat.

I immediately left........but could feel the glares as I made my way out of the church.
She said "Imma slap you like a Filipino hooker!" in church?That's the most beautiful thing I've read.

I will admit to trying to choke down a laugh as I tried to make my escape......but what are you going to do during a Christmas show where the kids can be plainly heard by the microphones, they had an excellent speaker system as well.........it got real quite, really quick...........and it probably did not help later on (when we were driving home) when she asked me if I loved the show, followed by did I do okay? I wasn't sure if she was asking about her singing and memorizing the selected songs or the part where she was clearly heard threatening to slap him like a Filipino Hooker and throat punch him.

So I went with the truth......I said Peanut it was the best Children's show I have ever attended......and you made me proud.
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by feanor » Tue Dec 08, 2015 4:25 am

Laager wrote: I will admit to trying to choke down a laugh as I tried to make my escape...
I bet. :)
I took up krav maga so I could teach my daughter, my wife asked how I'd feel if she broke a classmate's collar bone for pushing her.
I knew my "Well, that'd learn'em not to push my babygirl" wasn't going to be popular but I couldn't help myself.
Last edited by feanor on Tue Aug 08, 2017 2:36 am, edited 1 time in total.

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ZombieGranny
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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by ZombieGranny » Tue Dec 08, 2015 12:20 pm

I applaud her (don't approve of the Filipino hooker remark, but throat-punch threatening? go girl! )
In my day, we didn't have virtual reality.
If a one-eyed razorback barbarian warrior was chasing you with an ax, you just had to hope you could outrun him.
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Preps buy us time. Time to learn how and time to remember how. Time to figure out what is a want, what is a need.

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Re: My Job, My Hell...

Post by Laager » Tue Dec 08, 2015 8:00 pm

ZombieGranny wrote:I applaud her (don't approve of the Filipino hooker remark, but throat-punch threatening? go girl! )

I will take full responsibility for telling the grand-kids to slap the bolt like you would a Filipino Bar Girl, and I should not have even said that, but I got caught up in the moment, my Filipino mother in law is the one that changed bar girl to hooker.

I enrolled our daughter in Karate and encouraged her to put Frankie in his place......
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.

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