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Duke attempts the Impossible
duke3016:
I had to do some work from home on Saturday and into Sunday morning. We had a major network upgrade and I had to test all the connectivity stuff. Not difficult, just time consuming. I didn't finish until 5.30am.
I woke up around 11am and felt a little groggy, pulled myself out of bed and put on my glasses. The view of the world was still a little hazy as I went down to the kitchen to get a cold can of coke from the fridge. A couple of gulps of that and the dryness was gone from the throat, however the view of the world was still a little out of focus.
I must still be tired and my eyes had yet to adjust to the new day. I fired up the computer and had some difficulty focusing on the screen. Never mind, it will become clear when I wake up properly.
It was really tough to make out the content on the screen so I thought I had better clean the lenses. Right hand side first, with the glasses cloth, got a goodly wipe. Left hand side to go and my fingers touched.
FML the lens was missing. Now have you ever had to search for something to do with your glasses without said glasses being at their optimum operating power.
I eventually found it upstairs and lens repositioned the view of the world was back to normal.
Priceless.
technolog:
--- Quote from: duke3016 on March 06, 2017, 17:27:02 PM ---
--- Quote from: Paulie_D on March 06, 2017, 14:20:24 PM ---
--- Quote from: duke3016 on March 05, 2017, 12:53:16 PM ---Now we all know the larger than life character that is Jack "Tecnolog" Prime. A regular on the APAT circuit and a jolly nice chap.
--- End quote ---
I"ll just leave this here and exit quietly.
--- End quote ---
Oh Memories
--- End quote ---
I"ve instructed my attorney :)
duke3016:
I had occasion to hire a car when mine was poorly. Anyway I took the car down to the garage on Saturday morning and he couldn't look at it until Monday, so I decided to hire a car as I had things to do and work the following week.
Because there was an amount of 'gunge' at the top of the oil filler spout I assumed the worst and thought it might be a head gasket so I booked the hire car for 7 days.
On Tuesday I got a phone call from the garage to tell me it wasn't the head gasket, it was something called a 'coil rack' (sound sore that does) and the 'gunge' was just condensation. The car would be ready in the evening.
Relieved it wasn't too major (it still set me back a few bob, but not as much as I feared) I rang the car hire company to arrange to send the car back and get a refund.
Me: “I want to return the hire car early, will I get a refund”
Girl: “Of course sir, let me get the file”
Girl: “No problem you will get £18 refunded”
Me: “I am returning the car 4 days early, why so small a refund”
Girl: “Ah, if you return it early we recalculate the hire at a higher rate”
Me: “See you Saturday.”
Priceless
duke3016:
I took my driving test in Limerick, in a mini of all things. My father had tried to teach me to drive and his habitual short fuse usually cut short any lesson we would have. However, against all odds, I did learn to drive but needed some tuition to remove the ould lad's bad habits that had rubbed off on me. Not least of which was to pour a continuous stream of obscenities at anybody who had the cheek to be on the road at the same time as him. Therefore I took a couple of lessons at a driving school in Limerick and they had mini's as their cars.
Now, because my Father had spent so much time on the buildings in England he had an English licence and under the rules in those days you had to take your test in order to get an Irish licence (bless the EU you don't have to now). This prompted much gnashing of teeth and numerous tirades against the dubious ancestry of people that worked in the Department of Transport.
As luck would have it we were down to take our test on the same day, he first, me directly after. We had an old Ford Anglia and we set off for Limerick.
“You will of course remember all I taught you” says he, swerving around a car and then when the other driver had the temerity to honk his horn, giving a non standard hand signal out the window and telling the other driver to do something physically impossible and morally wrong. Yeah right
He dropped me off and I went round to the driving centre to pick up the mini while he took his test. The instructor let me drive around for a while and we parked up. I was on my way in to the test centre when he emerged with a white piece of paper in his hand and a look of immense pleasure on his face.
“I passed no problem” says he - Feck no pressure then
“I'll see you in Cruises Hotel after your test” says he
Bugger, I was in a no win situation here. If I passed it was all down to him and if I failed I was a thick eejit who shouldn't be let near the wheel of a car and was totally un-teachable.
I walked into the examiner's office and sat down opposite a man who looked like he had been 10 rounds with Mohammed Ali. The smell of drink off him was overpowering and he looked as crabby as hell. FML
I expected the sign recognition test at this point. No, he just elevated himself to his feet with great effort and started towards the door.
“Right, lets get this over with” says he
We walked to the car and I expected the number plate reading test, No, he just plonked himself in the passenger seat.
“Pull out and turn right” says he
I pulled out and indicated right and drove around the corner
“Turn next right” says he
I did as I was told and was mentally bracing my self for when the three point turn, reverse around corner, emergency stop etc would take place.
“Turn next right” says he
Ok deep breaths we are now going to leave the busy city traffic and go out into the sticks.
“Turn next right and park” says he
OK the old take off on a hill, the lousy eejit was going to make me take off into busy city traffic once more, sadist.
“Switch off and follow me into the centre” says he
WTF - had I made that bad a mistake that I was failed in the first couple of minutes and he couldn't bear to be in the same car as me. The ould lad was going to have a fecking field day with this one.
“You've passed congratulations” says he passing me the invaluable white sheet. He then reached for his coat and walked out the front door with me trailing behind with my mouth still agape. He promptly went next door to the pub and disappeared inside.
I met the ould lad in Cruises Hotel and as I walked in I swear he looked at his watch and his eyes lit up and he was about to say something profound and probably malicious. I waved the paper.
“I passed” says I
“Feck” says he deflated
Gotta love him
Priceless
duke3016:
With all the furore about Cheltenham, I must tell you a story of a trip to Mallow races in Cork.
A local publican had a horse running that day. Now this horse was sired by a donkey out of a rabid mule and under no circumstances would she win a farting contest let alone an official race. However we organised an outing and away we went.
The horse was running in the third race and unsurprisingly was huge odds. Sentiment was never my strong point and I resolved not to bet on the nag.
The publican pulled me to one side.
“Ger, will you place a bet on the horse for me” he whispered
“Why don't you do it yourself” says I
“I can't be seen betting on my own horse, it would affect the odds” said he sotto voice.
Who the bleeding hell did they think he was, J P McManus FFS.
Now I have always liked to have a bet and as news goes, this revelation is up there with the fact that the Pope has always been partial to the odd prayer or two. However I looked at the rest of the field and there was no way in this world was that hairy excuse for a horse going to win.
“Ok, give us your money” says I
“It's a cert, get your own money on” says he, slipping me a ton. I looked at the money. Yeah, like that was going to make the bookies quake in their Gucci loafers.
I backed the horse for him at outrageous odds in the high 20's if I recall rightly. I shook my head and sighed at his naivety and I backed the one I though most likely to win. Funnily enough, the odds on his horse came in as the race approached and settled in around 18/1 I think.
It was a 7 horse race and as they paraded down to the start, His horse was looking knackered in the gentle canter, whilst all the other horses looked mean and ready for the race.
Trying to get the horse into the stalls took 6 strong men, a blindfold and a few well targeted whacks of the whip. Looking good then.
They were off and in the initial stages his horse was keeping up with the pack, albeit at the fecking rear. Good job I didn't bother.
“Going bad there” says I
“Wait for her burst of speed in the final 2” says he, with a confident smile.
Burst of speed! FFS the only way it would pick up would be if you shoved a cable from the national grid up its arse.
Then two furlongs out, the favourite, my pick by the way, was winning by a country mile and a few amazing things happened.
The jockey on the favourite was trying to make the horses head touch his arse, he was pulling on the reins so much.
The three horses trailing the leader seemed to go completely off course. Like the Red Arrows they spilt in formation heading for the off side rails.
The jockey on horse number 5 fell off. It was a flat race FFS.
The jockey on horse number 6 looked over his shoulder and seemed to beckon the other horse, by slowing down and leaving a gap on the rail you could drive a Jumbo jet through.
The horse sauntered past the now frantically beckoning jockey and won by a short head. It was only a short head because the other horse was walking at this stage with the jockey looking alarmed at the slow gain of the eventual winner.
There was no Steward's Inquiry, no complaints from the other owners, nothing, as the owner proudly collected his money off the plainly furious bookie.
“It was my turn today” says he “Hope you had a bundle on it” he winked.
FML - priceless, crooked, but still priceless……..
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