Reminds me of that song / ditty about the bucket of bricks on a pulley trying to get them up to the scaffolding 🤣
H Betsy1969,
It's been many years since I heard (read) that story, and in my version, it involved an injured workman asking for sick-leave, following in incident involving the afore-mentioned bucket wheel barrow full of bricks, and one of those tall "Fred Dibnah " factory chimneys. As you suggest, the incident went on for ever.
Only slightly different, was my incident on a motor cycle, on Penang Island.
I departed for work one morning on the bike, came to the first junction, slowed down, and checked the road to my right.
Nothing coming, so opened the throttle.
Back wheel slid away, so I stepped of, but didn't let go of the twist grip.
The bike reared up, as it accelerated away.
I closed the throttle, front wheel dropped, dragging me with it. I finished up lying ACROSS the saddle, still hanging onto the twist grip.
The jerk of hitting the ground caused me to yank the twist grip, and the bike reared up again.
I closed the throttle ....
I reckon that sequence happened half a dozen times, over about a hundred yards, before I eventually managed a soft landing, where-upon, the bike fell over. I got straight back on the bike, and away, as I knew Barbara would be watching to see me passing a gap in the houses.
That was my only visit to the Ozzie Sick Bay, to get my fore-arm sprayed with "Honda Rash" (that purple dye stuff). We all rode in shorts, and short sleeved shirts, but the Military insisted we wore helmets.
Nobody caught on video. Doh!
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