Amusing True Stories

[Bugsy]

I'm sure that most people on here have funny stories to tell.

Why not share them on here.

I will start the ball rolling.

[Bugsy]

This sad tale occurred  during our winter travels in our Winnebago. Those who have owned such vehicles will know that one of the most easy things to forget, when leaving a place you've been staying, is to empty the toilet holding tank. You're driving along and suddenly aware of 'the odour' eminating from the roof-top ventpipe and into the vehicle. Our vehicle had a 100 gallon tank [:$]

Anyway, we were driving up from Spain one cold February, when 'the smell' started. The plan at this point is to find a disposal point, but you can never find them went you need one. Eventually I spotted a lay-by with two adjoining toilets, great, toilets mean a man-hole and that will enable us to 'dump' the stuff.

I should say, at this point, that emptying our tank involved a twenty foot, five inch diameter, flexible hose, attached to a gate valve on the tank. I drove the vehicle to a point as close as I could to the manhole cover

but when lifting it up found nothing but valves and pipes in the hole, damm!. With the toilet block next door I had an idea, if the pipe would stretch far enough to reach the bowl in the nearest toilet. Yes!, it would, but only at a tight stretch. I needed my wife at this point to release the valve as you really had to hold firmly on to the end of the pipe when the 'surge' started. "OK" I said, let it rip!...............

Now with all this going on I genuinely hadn't noticed a man enter the other toilet. The screams as the 'stuff' surged into the toilet bowl left us with no illusion that something was wrong [:)] a fact confirmed when this bloke stormed out of the toilet with his trousers still at half-mast and 'flecked' all over with a rather smelly gunge.

All offers of apology and would he like to use our on-board shower were refused and he just jumped in his van and stormed off.

Gary.

[dave21478]

On a similar note....

I used to be workshop foreman for a caravan and motorhome dealership in UK. We had a couple of 4-post commercial vehicle lifts in that were big enough to lift most caravans and motorhomes for servicing and repairs.

One day we had a foosty old american motorhome in for remedial work to pass its MOT. I put it up on the ramp and myself and the apprentice (who was on his 4th day on the job) were underneath wrestling with a reluctant rear axle which I was trying to drop down. The apprentice was using a pry-bar under my direction when it slipped and pierced the vans under-slung poo-tank. It was "empty", but he still got a smattering of....well...you know what in his hair and down the back of his boilersuit.

I laughed so hard I had difficulty breathing [:D]

 

 

Secondly, I was working on the blocked waste system of a new-ish Bessacarr caravan. It had an underslung tank for the waste water from the sinks (but not the toilet, they have the Thetford casette bogs). I was tracing the blockage by disconnecting the waste pipes wherever there was a joint, elbow etc etc. I knew I had found the blocked section when I pulled off a length of pipe and received a few litres of old sink-water down my sleeve. I didnt laugh much that time [:(]

 

[Hoddy]

This is a bit long - I hope it's worth it -

During the era of Willie Whitelaw’s ‘short, sharp, shock” one of my pupils was given three months in a Young Offenders Institution. I gathered up work from colleagues so that we could keep his education going. The institution, with its high barbed wire fence complete with watchtowers, was a bit of shock as were my fellow visitors. I was eventually collected by a warder and taken to the education block. I could see my boy in the distance although I wasn’t allowed to go near him and had to go through all the work with a male teacher employed by the prison.

When we’d been through it all, he asked me if I’d like to visit “Gazzer”. I said yes of course and enquired if there was a ladies loo anywhere that I could use before I went to the visiting room and he showed me where to go. Imagine my horror when I couldn’t get out again. I tried calling out and it became clear that unless I really roared no-one could hear me.

There were bars on the window. I took a nail file from my handbag and tried to undo the screws on the bolt but they were too strong because they had been painted too often so I started on the thingy that the bolt goes into. I was really pleased that I’d managed to get both screws out until I discovered that part of it went under a piece of archetrave attached to the door jamb. I was now laughing so much while screwing the thing back and considering my options it’s a bit surprising that I heard a noise outside.

Me: Is someone there ?

Cleaning Lady (probably the only other woman in the establishment ) You’re all right duck, I’m not in a hurry.

Me: No, it’s not all right, I’m locked in.

Cleaning Lady: I’ll get someone.

She returns with a man.

Man: Are you decent ?

I suppressed the urge to ask him why he thought I’d be standing there for a quarter of an hour with my knickers round my ankles.

Me: Yes.

Man: Stand back I’m coming over the top.

I squashed myself into the corner by the toilet. The man leapt up and in doing so shattered the plastic light shade showering me with bits. He tried to open the door.

Man: Bruddy ****, it’s stuck.

Fortunately he had brought a tool with him (stilsons?) and used them to smash the bolt off the door. We both emerged to be greeted with a round of applause by the whole of the prison education department staff.

Embarrassed ? You bet.