Went to a funeral on Friday. Should have been a very sombre occasion but I haven't laughed so much in years. I'm not talking about embarrassed giggles from the last pew but deranged, spluttering guffaws from the whole congregation as the priest tried to keep a straight face during various speeches from friends of the deceased. We were burying William S*. Otherwise known by the moniker, 'Bangkok Bill'. I first met Bill around 13 years ago on an overseas project where he was responsible for building base camps for oil exploration companies. In all, I must have worked with him, on and off, on about 9 projects in around 7 countries. He was ex-RE who left the army after 14 years having reached the dizzy heights of Lance-Jack. 'Made me the man I am today' he used to muse. A phrase that has long been seared onto my frontal lobe and the reason I encouraged my youngest brother to join the REME instead of RE. Bill was a legend. The original 'Social Hand Grenade'. Had he been given a psychological evaluation, I am certain he would have been classed as a sociopath. He didn't give a flying fukc about anyone or anything. Our social rules meant nothing to him. He had his own. But I'm fukced if I, or anyone else for that matter, could say what those rules were. A few examples of his social skills are below: Algeria - On talking to an Imam who was complaining that Bill's workforce were being denied off-time for prayers. "Fukc off. I'm Jewish and these cnuts can have half a day off next year for Yom Kippur to make up for it." Indonesia - Talking to the Brit Embassy's Director of Trade at a posh do (DoT was admiring the cut of his Safari suit. Cut on one of Bill's frequent visits to Thailand). DoT happened to mention, in front of his new bride, that he'd enjoyed his sojourn at the Embassy in Bangkok. "Me too, son. got back yesterday with a cock like a beetroot! First time I've ever gone looking for the Katoey's (Ladyboys). Do any yourself? Had two of the cnuts and they did a runner with my phone and wallet. Wouldn't mind but I was that peshed I didn't shag either of them." Iraq - On being introduced to some (male) gobshite from the Overseas Development Council who had some sort of input into the design of hardened compounds for engineers, and was paying Bill's wages. Gobshite: Hi I'm Corinne (sic)! Bill: After a long pause - "Are you fukcing gay? What sort of a fukcing name is Corinne? Get away from me you cnut!" Chad - Attending an Oil Major's mandatory touchy-feely course for contractors dealing with social, cultural and racial cohesian. Chadian and expatriate workers are present. Australian Course Leader: "Bill, you must have a good number of Chadian workers in your department"? Bill: "About 400". ACL: "So what do you think of the Chadian work ethic?" Bill: "They are. to a man, a bunch of workshy, lazy, lying, thieving cnuts". ACL: Nervous laugh. "C,mon Bill. Surely you must have something positive to say considering the number of your Chadian peers we have present?" Bill: "Peers? Of mine? Them? Are you fukcing deaf as well as Australian? THEY ARE A BUNCH OF WORKSHY, LAZY, LYING, THIEVING CNUTS!" Algeria (again) - Bill was invited to a do at the Sheraton Hotel in Algiers where Dick Cheney, when he was CEO of Halliburton, was holding an audience with chosen Halliburton employees. Cheney scowled a lot and soon fukced off. His lackey, a senior VP, was left to press the flesh and speak to the great unwashed. Senior VP: "So what rotation do you do in-country?" Bill: "3 months on and 2 weeks off" SVP: "Sheesh! That's some tour. what do you do for recreation? Are we treating you guys well with off time activities down at the camp?" Bill: "Well, I watch porn a lot and wank. But I tell you what, you might sort out those fukcing femme de menage (camp cleaning ladies). It cost me a mini stereo just for a fukcing blow job last week!" I could go on but my ribs hurt just thinking about some of the capers he got up to. Bill, you were a Prince among men. The world will be a duller place without your kind. You'll be sadly missed. Any other Arrser's have happy memories of less than politically correct former colleagues?