Crang's Tales from the Tracks

crang wrote:

Tiny wrote:Crang I think I'm In With these tales!!

Thanks Tiny.


And in an Internet kind of way,I You .

You too!

hahahahaha! fucking hell Crang is a hidden gem AND a dark horse.

I'm interested in the forum again.

More immediately.


thanks

This thread is truly ace. Especially as I meet no such characters in the chemical industry. Anyone slightly interesting tends to blow something up and get fired.

Never trust a Darren or a Dave.

I don't trust people who don't drink. I want to know what they get up to when everyone else is pissed

Fandango Widewheels wrote:This thread is truly ace. Especially as I meet no such characters in the chemical industry. Anyone slightly interesting tends to blow something up and get fired.

The chemical industry eh?! If they blow something up does that mean they are shite at the job?

Tiny wrote:

Fandango Widewheels wrote:This thread is truly ace. Especially as I meet no such characters in the chemical industry. Anyone slightly interesting tends to blow something up and get fired.

The chemical industry eh?! If they blow something up does that mean they are shite at the job?

Usually. We're not in the business of blowing things up (unintentionally anyway).

Never rub another mans rhubarb.



There are only 2 things that smell of fish and one of those is fish.

Bishop wrote:Never rub another mans rhubarb.



There are only 2 things that smell of fish and one of those is fish.

The other is your finger.....ahem

Monkfish.

crang wrote:Monkfish.

Funny looking fuckers.

crang wrote:Never trust a Darren or a Dave.

Now you're talking.

Never reflect upon yourself, when looking through the wrong side of a mirror.

There are two sides to every coin.

Monkfish.

Now this guy came from up north,and at the time was hailed by our manager,as the 'saviour of british rail',an all singing all dancing jack of all railway trades,but the thing was monkfish had basically lied to get his position,and was in fact extremely lazy,and a bit of a blagger.so,when he eventually came to our depot expectations were very high.Now monkfish was about 47 years of age,with a rather large moustache,pot holed skin,dodgy teeth,and generally full of himself.Monkfish would sign most jobs off as done,and his definition of how good our track was,was to compare it with the Indian railway line,he would often say 'the Indians would be over the moon with this piece of track',and so subsequently not much ever got done.Eventually though he got sussed out,and became somewhat of a joke,the lads would tire of his blagging and just generally abuse him,some would put worms in his tea,while others would  set fire to his  ppe.His downfall was complete when he took charge of site safety on a night shift,he was supposed to wait for his changeover towards the end of his shift,but he just walked off without telling anyone,and left about 30 blokes wandering around in the dark,he got suspended for that,and spent 3 months on anti depressants,what made it worse was during that time he found out his girlfriend of 8 years was not 48,but in fact 60,it was the free bus pass that gave it away,lol.Old monkfish eventually jacked the railway in,before he got pushed to be honest,I last heard from him two weeks ago,he had met an old flame on the Internet,she was his girlfriend 20 years ago,and now lives in australia.Well monkfish went for broke,dumped his o.a.p bird,quit his job at the time(pot collector down the labour club),sold up,and bought a one way ticket to oz!..........it lasted a week!,lol,yes,one week and he was back in blighty,apparently she was more depressed than him.He now lives with his sister, and is currently looking for a new job,and a new

Nightshift.


Now working on the railway at night is literally another world completely,the lads that do it are quite frankly a different breed,there all pasty skinned and moody,with nicknames such as 'moonburn','sergeant bilko','nosferatu','hills have eyes',and  capybara(boss eyed mammal)to name but a few.I personally avoid any kind of nightshift as much as possible,but I've done the odd week from time to time,I personally  just dont think it's right for a human to be up and about at that time of night,unless that is embroiled in jolitys with some muckers,whilst drinking an intoxicating brew!.now as I've said in my previous tales,the things that go on in daylight on the railway are quite mad at times,well,add the cover of darkness and it really does start to get even more crazier!.Now a particular favourite at night was deer stalking in the pick ups,basically we'd drive down country lanes and run over startled deers,or just shine our lights into the fields and shoot them,rabbits aswell,this obviously was quite a hazardous night time activity,and many a vehicle ended up in ditches and fields,I remember one night coming back with two deers and four rabbits,we hung them up in the yard,then cut the meat up with a disc cutter,it looked like a scene from hostel.The only good thing with nightshift work is that the train possessions would only be about 3 to 4 hours long,so you couldn't really get much work done,so most of the time was spent twiddling ones thumbs,or deer stalking,lol.One of the many jobs at night was the task of blocking the lines to protect a worksite,this would involve driving to remote areas and laying down earthing straps,and marker boards to the track,then nothing could enter the site where the blokes were working,you'd just stay there all night on your own till you were told the work had finished,you'd just pick up the straps and boards,and off you'd go,the thing was though,that some of the blokes would get bored,some would even conduct illicit meetings with ladies of the night,to pass the time,one of the lads even got caught having sex with a police woman one night.And obviously one of the most popular pastimes at night was scaring people,now this would involve just about everything and anything,wether it be hiding in location boxes out in the woods til someone walked by,or even burning crosses up on portsdown hill,the lads would be forever coming up with ideas to scare each other,or the general public.A different breed indeed.

Kenny ray


Kenny was our union rep,a small troll like individual,with massive boggle eyes,but what ken lacked in size he most certainly made up for in vocal authority,his voice was this broad Somerset yokel bark,and his speeches were of the winston Churchill kind,he had a great sense of humour,and would always laden his rebellious crys with "0im not tellin you lads what to do?,but when you see a gift orse,don't kick it in the bollacks!",or "I can't promise you the moon on a stick".And so kenny became somewhat of a celebrity at are depot,and everyone would look forward to him coming down and rattling off one of his Arthur scargill rants,that even when on a serious note would always decend into hilarity due to kens funny persona.He was always willing to back the lads up,wether it be about bad rostering,or disciplinarys,and management would genuinely fear and loathe his presence.But unfortunately kens hands became tied eventually  due to the company weakening the lads solidarity,with offers of big one off payments if they'd work more hours,more weekends etc,greed took over in the end,and most of the workforce sold there protective terms and conditions for more money:(.It was the last straw for ken,who had worked hard to make sure the lads  would never get shafted by the company,disillusioned,he jacked in his position as union rep,and to be honest it's never quite been the same since.

Freedom, is the enemy, of the uneducated,

I like Crang. He's a mental. I knew the railways were fucked. Now I know the full story

Super thread....thinking whilst reading what Crang's job is.....deer stalking...shooting rabbits....colleagues shooting each other.....ace!!

I liked Monkfish. A Shakespearean tragic farce of a man.

I don't advocate killing anything if you don't eat it.

Sherrers wrote:I liked Monkfish. A Shakespearean tragic farce of a man.

I don't advocate killing anything if you don't eat it.

No animals were uneaten,during the killings within these tales.

And on the seventh day,God said, man will drink wine and rest.

The love of your friends,is the only love You need.

I'm noticing a pattern here.

Crraaaangg gets hammered every Sunday innit.

Token Bird wrote:I'm noticing a pattern here.

Crraaaangg gets hammered every Sunday innit.

I've been getting rostered off on a Monday.

Sunday has become the new Saturday.

Don't mess with the best or you will die like the rest!!

Life is tough,but pavements are tougher.

"To the shed She took me", I had toilet rolls for neck bolts. I was Frankenstein and she was the Mummy.

It was 1977 and the day of the Queens jubilee. I was so excited, a big street party had been organised down our road. Everyone was in fancy dress and I was going as Mary Shelley's favourite monster, 'Frankenstein'!

I had just finished coming second in the egg and spoon race when I saw he. 'Rachel'. Now Rachel lived over the road from me, she was 13 and I was 5. Thinking back now she was actually quite attractive if not a little wayward.

I was sat on the kerb drinking some orange fanta when she approached me, "hi little Johnny" she said. I commented on her fancy dress which was a rather good attempt at the Mummy apart from her head which wasn't bandaged. She asked if we could go and play in my back garden, which to my Dad's credit was almost like an adventure playground in them days.

You name it I had it ; slide, swing, climbing frame and my very own playhouse! But when we'd finished on the swings she asked if she could have a look in my Dad's shed.

And so to the shed she took me. I had toilet rolls for neck bolts. I was Frankenstein,and she was the Mummy. Whilst in the shed she asked if I had seen a woman's boobs before, confused I said I hadn't?

"unwrap me Frankenstein" she said and so I started to peel off her bandages!! but before I could get anywhere near a sight of her breasts my sister started banging on the shed window. She had been sat on the coal bunker looking in!

And that was it. The mummy left and Frankenstein was sent to bed.

I feel exquisite pleasure in dwelling on the recollections of childhood, before misfortune had tainted my mind and changed it's bright visions of extensive usefulness into gloomy and narrow reflections upon self. 

Haha....ace!