Why do I have to be "that guy"...?

...a knitted and baked aeroplane. The WI could make a fortune if they put their mind to it.

Pah! You haven't lived till you've drained the exhaust of an AH2 and had the lot dump on your nice clean kit. It's a mistake you only make once.

Airbus were beaten to a beautifully cooked aeroplane by around 40 years. The Goons got there first.

 

Cutaway

LE
Kit Reviewer
Having oil rain on one from a cracked cylinder on a DC3 should be a rite of passage for all in the aviation dodge.
Having anything to do with a Dak will guarantee oil and fuel stains.
 

Ritch

LE
Moderator
I periodically stick my dental bridge back in with super glue so ending up with it swilling around my teeth is almost a habit as is gluing my thumb to the back of my teeth.
Ah Superglue. The memories.

A few years ago, I was at my then girlfriends place and attempting to improve my woeful DIY skills. I told her I'd fix one of her kitchen cupboards but the hinge was knackered. The screwheads holding it to the wall were all different shapes so I couldn't get them out.

I okay'd it with her that I'd use some Gorilla Glue to stick the hinge back together and after applying a very generous amount, I knelt down with a hand pressed against the cupboard door, waiting for the glue to bond with the hinge.

I must have spent five minutes envisioning being festooned with affection,.blowjobs and other treats for my skilled DIY efforts. I then decided that should be enough time and let go. Well, I tried to. My hand (palm and three of my fingers) was stuck soundly to the kitchen cupboard door.

"Babe!" I yelled, "er, I need some help!"

"Why, what's up? Can it wait?"

"Er... I might have stuck my hand to the cupboard door."

Cue a minute of laughing and she appears to find me contorted on the floor.

"Can it wait until Emmerdale has finished?"

I was that aghast, she took my silence as assent and I had to sit there for 45 minutes (sods law it was an hour special). She'd come in during the adverts and laugh some more.

Eventually a neighbour popped round with a saw and cut the door off the hinge and I spent seven hours in A&E having repeated solutions applied to free my hand.

I'm never going near the stuff again.
 
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I should also add during the last lockdown I also tried to dissolve my hands.

Since I was on my own a lot, I started making myself hotter and hotter chilli / curry / other spicy food, to complement my German pilsner selections at the weekends where I was 'unsupervised'.

I don't know if any of you have ever grown your own chillies but I can tell you they're about 10 times hotter than whatever passes for chilli sauce (regardless of whatever it says on the bottle).

One evening I made the mistake of wearing a white polo shirt, and after dicing up some fresh chillies, throwing together a con carne with tortillas and extra tomatoes, I went to sit down with it on my lap at which point the plate with the tortillas around the bowl of chilli became unbalanced and I ended up wearing most of it.

Not a problem. I've got Dylon sachets... Straight into a bowl my t-shirt goes, along with a sachet and a bit of old school knuckle scrubbing the sh*t out of my polo shirt. The stains stood no chance.

Admiring my housewife skills, I sits back down after drying my hands on the tea towel. Half way through my chilli and Better Call Saul, my fingers are starting to sting.

Jeez them chillies sure must be hot!

I get to the end of my meal. Got a bit of a bead on. Highly unusually, I'm sweating, mouth on fire, whole hands now starting to burn like fcuk.

I look at the palms of my hands and they've gone "annoyed Phil Mitchell" colour, wtf?

Eventually I look at the Dylon sachet box on the off-chance there's something more sinister going on with these innocent looking white pillows.

Yep... Found this on the side of the box.

View attachment 640347
As an aviation engineer i hope you don't bolt the wings on.:oops:
 
I had a similar incident on a Tristar returning to Cyprus in the early noughties. We'd been out for a monster curry the night before, and I'd been unable to clear it prior to the flight. I dropped something similar to the poo monster from Dogma. No amount of flushing would shift it from the German style "inspect-a-poo" toilet. Once I stopped giggling at the thought of leaving it as a surprise for the next incumbent, I wrapped my hand in toilet roll and scraped it off the ledge. After 15 mins of watching people enter then immediately leave the cubicle, the smell must have subsided and normality resumed.
I posted this elsewhere,

A couple of years ago we were on a Stellios to Spain when I had a serious stomach bug that hit en route to the airport. This was just before covid so I think the check in staff thought I was sweating like a rapist and doubled up was because I had swallowed a condom full of Colombian marching powder rather than Kung Flu. Anyway, seconds before boarding I had the first wave of the alluvial shits which got me through boarding and take off, but the second the seatbelt light went off I had to make the tactical decision as to which way to head.. a condundrum giving we were in the middle of the plane, so I headed forward but was beaten to the door by a Spanish grandma who was taking no bog prisoners. I was left at the front doing the poo dance of a five year old squatting and quacking while granny was right proper taking her time.

Come my turn my trousers were hardly on the floor and arse cheek on cold metal pan I was squirting my guts out, followed by my internal organs, followed by my very soul. The hostile knocked on the door to ask if I was ok and all I could do was let out a sort of plaintiff cry. After I finally left the trap another old granny shoulder barged past me making some sort of guttural grunt and the second the lock went on the door you could hear the machine gun Spanish denunciation when she got the first whiff of the contents of my gut.

Los Dioabolo had struck again.
 
The Horns of Jericho. You provided them with a religious experience, thus guaranteeing you their worshipful awe for all time.

Any pissing and moaning was likely just sectarian jealousy.
The walls trembled rather than fell down.

As the Good Book says “The Lord goes up with trumpet blast” so all I did was the Bidding of the Almighty in the face of the Heathen.
 
As an aviation engineer i hope you don't bolt the wings on.:oops:

Aviation Engineers:

(they actually have my unqualified respect but couldn’t resist)

B9823B5E-510C-4B28-8C49-52094CC13737.jpeg
 
Re inflight evacuations: halfway across DRC from Kinshasa to Bukavu, in the Mission Chiefs HS-125, after having spent about four days in meetings and as many nights in a pub about 3floors downstairs from a Kinshasa Pizza joint getting outside a considerable amount of Primus and ‘house’ vodka, the rumbles within became quite urgent … the HS-125’s dunny is at the back and does not really seal airtight, and the other ambulant cargo were counting the minutes to Bukavu. I felt pretty good, considering …

98BF798A-BEDE-4E8D-8D32-BBA20E58B14A.jpeg
 

Joshua Slocum

LE
Book Reviewer
A daft bird I know purchased an A35, a little wallace and grommet type car
it had been restored and ran quite well, except every now and then the sod would break down, no lights, or no ignition, or indicators ( cue slocums call out service)
so I get roped in, parked it on my drive behind the gates, out with the testmeter, and the trouble is soon evident, the car had been rebuilt, but the bloody wiring harness was 60 years old, new one ordered ( surprisingly easy, but not cheap) in it goes, a mere days work, now the restorer had jointed a fair few wires and bodged it, so it took a bit of work to get everything connected properly without joints , and all clean and bright
at last battery in, terminals on loose, quick check, all working
just tightening down the battery clamps, and daft bird arrives with her boyfriend ( even dafter than her) my head is under the bonnet doing final checks, the twat starts pissing about, first of all he nearly lopped my fingers off when he operated the starter motor, much swearing, then he decides to press the little Austin thing in the middle of the steering wheel, a bloody great horn went off, my nut hit the bleeding bonnet, stay pops out, bonnets twats my head again, wife pisses herself laughing, he presses the horn again just as I manage to lift the bonnet
the bonnet must weight about 3 tonnes !!
by eck it hurt
Apparently the horn had never worked, and he thought it was the screen washer, the moron
 
A daft bird I know purchased an A35, a little wallace and grommet type car
it had been restored and ran quite well, except every now and then the sod would break down, no lights, or no ignition, or indicators ( cue slocums call out service)
so I get roped in, parked it on my drive behind the gates, out with the testmeter, and the trouble is soon evident, the car had been rebuilt, but the bloody wiring harness was 60 years old, new one ordered ( surprisingly easy, but not cheap) in it goes, a mere days work, now the restorer had jointed a fair few wires and bodged it, so it took a bit of work to get everything connected properly without joints , and all clean and bright
at last battery in, terminals on loose, quick check, all working
just tightening down the battery clamps, and daft bird arrives with her boyfriend ( even dafter than her) my head is under the bonnet doing final checks, the twat starts pissing about, first of all he nearly lopped my fingers off when he operated the starter motor, much swearing, then he decides to press the little Austin thing in the middle of the steering wheel, a bloody great horn went off, my nut hit the bleeding bonnet, stay pops out, bonnets twats my head again, wife pisses herself laughing, he presses the horn again just as I manage to lift the bonnet
the bonnet must weight about 3 tonnes !!
by eck it hurt
Apparently the horn had never worked, and he thought it was the screen washer, the moron
I'd have stopped punching him only once his blood soaked gurgles had ceased and his chest stopped rising and falling.
 

Ritch

LE
Moderator
he decides to press the little Austin thing in the middle of the steering wheel, a bloody great horn went off, my nut hit the bleeding bonnet, stay pops out, bonnets twats my head again, wife pisses herself laughing, he presses the horn again just as I manage to lift the bonnet
the bonnet must weight about 3 tonnes !!

That's where the brain damage comes from then!
 

Helm

MIA
Moderator
Book Reviewer
A daft bird I know purchased an A35, a little wallace and grommet type car
it had been restored and ran quite well, except every now and then the sod would break down, no lights, or no ignition, or indicators ( cue slocums call out service)
so I get roped in, parked it on my drive behind the gates, out with the testmeter, and the trouble is soon evident, the car had been rebuilt, but the bloody wiring harness was 60 years old, new one ordered ( surprisingly easy, but not cheap) in it goes, a mere days work, now the restorer had jointed a fair few wires and bodged it, so it took a bit of work to get everything connected properly without joints , and all clean and bright
at last battery in, terminals on loose, quick check, all working
just tightening down the battery clamps, and daft bird arrives with her boyfriend ( even dafter than her) my head is under the bonnet doing final checks, the twat starts pissing about, first of all he nearly lopped my fingers off when he operated the starter motor, much swearing, then he decides to press the little Austin thing in the middle of the steering wheel, a bloody great horn went off, my nut hit the bleeding bonnet, stay pops out, bonnets twats my head again, wife pisses herself laughing, he presses the horn again just as I manage to lift the bonnet
the bonnet must weight about 3 tonnes !!
by eck it hurt
Apparently the horn had never worked, and he thought it was the screen washer, the moron
Had something similar with my spridget, horn wouldn't work, spent all day ******* around with it to avail. Packed it up and called it a day, 3AM rudely awakened by the blaring of a now stuck horn, my how the neighbours laughed.
 

RBMK

LE
Book Reviewer
I may have mentioned this before, but a mate of mine bought a rare and expensive model railway locomotive (N gauge) off fleabay for a "bargain" - think expensive, a number in 3 figures, but they don't make these any more and they're rare as hen's teeth even on fleabay.

Turns out that this model had been painted very badly and mate decides to strip the paint off and respray.

Now there are several ways to remove paint from a model, paint brush cleaner works, as does Dettol (contains phenol which softens the paint). 24 hour soak in a jar of Dettol and most model type paints will fall off and the twiddly bits can be removed with a cocktail stick.

He, however, has no paintbrush cleaner nor any Dettol so he nicks a bottle of his wife's nail varnish remover.

For those of you who don't know, nail varnish remover is more or less pure acetone.

Anyway, he tips the bottle into a jar, pops the model in, gives it a shake and goes off to bed.

In the morning he comes down to find a melted blob of plastic in the bottom of the jar.
 

Boris_Johnson

ADC
Moderator
DirtyBAT
First night in Correlejo, had my maiden dip in the pool... The good lady asks, "hows the temperature?"

Not wishing to put her off, I says "yeah not bad".

In the lift on way back up to our room she looks down and looks back up and says, "you know how I know the pool is cold?"

Does this site have a button mushroom emoji :hmm:
 

W21A

LE
Book Reviewer
Not super glue, but I do know that a certain pear brandy tastes exactly like UHU. Other tales on here sound familiar.
 
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First night in Correlejo, had my maiden dip in the pool... The good lady asks, "hows the temperature?"

Not wishing to put her off, I says "yeah not bad".

In the lift on way back up to our room she looks down and looks back up and says, "you know how I know the pool is cold?"

Does this site have a button mushroom emoji :hmm:
The pool was actually warm, wasn't it?
 

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