Subj: Accidents1
(Includes 26 jokes and articles, 17805,5,cf,md,2)
Gun w/Cold from
Millanimations
| >>>
Subj: Accidents1 (Includes 26 jokes and articles, 17805,5,cf,md,2) |
|
Gun w/Cold from Millanimations |
Also see BIRD-DUCKS - 'Two
Brain Surgeons Go Duck Hunting'
BUGS & SPIDER- 'Woman
fights cockroach'
HOSPITAL2 - 'Emergency
Room Stories'
FROG file - 'Freak
Accident After Frog Fishing'
PENIS2 file - 'Dick
caught in toilet paper dispensor'
POLICE1 file - 'Do-It-Yourself
Brain Surgery?!'
SKING file - 'First
Date Sking'
SHIPS file - 'The
Tugboat Vs The Bridge'
SWIMMING file- 'Bad
Day At The Office'
============================================================Top
| Subj:
The Crash Compilation (S573c)
Edited by Yigal Giat From: tom on 1/11/2008 |
 |
This 6,700 KB homemade movie
is hardly worth the time
needed to see it. Click
'HERE'
to view it.
\\\//
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Subj: Rudy
The Cat And The Kitchen Sink (S493b)
From: auntiegah on 7/7/2006
This is the story of the night
my ten-year-old cat, Rudy, got
his head stuck in the garbage
disposal. I knew at the time
that the experience would be
funny if the cat survived, so
let me tell you right up front
that he's fine. Getting him
out wasn't easy, though, and
the process included numerous
home remedies, a plumber, two
cops, an emergency overnight
veterinary clinic, a case of
mistaken identity, five hours
of panic, and fifteen minutes
of fame.
My husband Rich and I had just
returned from a 5 day vacation
in the Cayman Islands--where
I had been sick as a dog the
whole time. We arrived home
at 9 p.m., a day and a half later
than we had planned because
of airline problems I still had
illness-related vertigo, and
because of the flight delays,
had not been able to prepare
for the class I was supposed to
teach at 8:40 the next morning.
I sat down at my desk to think
about William Carlos Williams,
and around ten o'clock I heard
Rich hollering from the kitchen.
I raced over to see what was
wrong and spied Rich frantically
rooting around under the kitchen
sink and Rudy--or, rather,
Rudy's headless body--scrambling
around in the sink, his claws
clicking in panic on the metal
and his head stuck in the
garbage disposal. Rich had just
ground up the skin of some
smoked salmon in the disposal,
and when he left the room,
Rudy (who always was a pinhead)
had gone in after it.
It is very disturbing to see
the headless body of your cat in
the sink. This is an animal
that I have slept with nightly
for ten years, who burrows under
the covers and purrs against
my side, and who now looked
like a fur-covered turkey carcass,
defrosting in the sink while
it's still alive and kicking. It
was also disturbing to see Rich,
Mr. Calm-in-any-Emergency, at
his wit's end, trying to simultaneously
soothe Rudy and undo
the garbage disposal, and failing
at both, and basically
freaking out. Adding to
the chaos was Rudy's twin brother
Lowell, also upset, racing around
in circles, jumping onto the
kitchen counter and alternately
licking Rudy's butt for comfort
and biting it out of fear. Clearly,
I had to do something.
First we tried to ease Rudy out
of the disposal by lubricating
his head and neck with Johnson's
baby shampoo (kept on hand
for my nieces' visits) and butter-flavored
Crisco. Both failed,
and a now-greasy Rudy kept struggling.
Rich then decided to
take apart the garbage disposal,
which was a good idea, but he
couldn't do it. Turns out, the
thing is constructed like a metal
onion: you peel off one layer
and another one appears, with
Rudy's head still buried deep
inside, stuck in a hard plastic
collar.
My job during this process was
to sit on the kitchen counter
petting Rudy, trying to calm
him, with the room spinning
(vertigo), Lowell howling (he's
part Siamese), and Rich
clattering around under the
sink with his tools. When all our
efforts failed, we sought professional
help. I called our
regular plumber, who actually
called me back quickly, even at
11 o'clock at night (thanks,
Dave). He talked Rich through
further layers of disposal dismantling,
but still we couldn't
reach Rudy
I called the 1-800 number for
Insinkerator (no response), a
pest removal service that advertises
24-hour service (no
response), an all-night emergency
veterinary clinic (who had
no experience in this matter),
and finally, in desperation,
9-1-1. I could see that
Rudy's normally pink paw pads were
turning blue. The fire
department, I figured, gets cats out
of trees; maybe they could get
one out of a garbage disposal.
The dispatcher had other ideas
and offered to send over two
policemen. The cops arrived
close to midnight and turned
out to be quite nice.
More importantly, they were also able
to think rationally, which we
were not. They were, of course,
astonished by the situation.
"I've never seen anything like
this," Officer Mike kept
saying. (The unusual circumstances
helped us get quickly on
a first-name basis with our
cops.) Officer Tom, who
expressed immediate sympathy
for our plight ("I've had cats
all my life," he said), also
had an idea. Evidently we
needed a certain tool a tiny,
circular rotating saw, that
could cut through the heavy
plastic flange encircling Rudy's
neck without hurting Rudy. Officer
Tom happened to own one.
"I live just five minutes from
here," he said. "I'll go get
it."
He soon returned, and the three
of them--Rich and the two
policemen--got under the sink
together to cut through the
garbage disposal. I sat
on the counter, holding Rudy and
trying not to succumb to the
surreal-ness of the scene,
with the weird middle-of-the-night
lighting, the room's
occasional spinning, Lowell's
spooky sound effects, an
apparently headless cat in my
sink and six disembodied
legs poking out from under it.
One good thing came of this:
the guys did manage to get the
bottom off the disposal, so
we could now see Rudy's face
and knew he could breathe.
But they couldn't cut the flange
without risking the cat.
Stumped. Officer Tom had another
idea. "You know," he said,
"I think the reason we can't
get him out is the angle of
his head and body. (you can
see where this is going, can't
you?) "If we could just get
the sink out," he continued,
"and lay it on its side, I'll
bet we could slip him out."
That sounded like a good idea--at
this point, ANYTHING
would have sounded like a good
idea--and as it turned out,
Officer Mike runs a plumbing
business on weekends; he knew
how to take out the sink!
Again they went to work, the
three pairs of legs sticking
out from under the sink,
surrounded by an ever-increasing
pile of tools and sink
parts.
They cut the electrical supply,
capped off the plumbing
lines, unfastened the metal
clamps, unscrewed all the
pipes, and about an hour later,
voila! The sink was
lifted gently out of the countertop,
with one guy holding
the garbage disposal which contained
Rudy's head) up
close to the sink (which contained
Rudy's body). We laid
the sink on its side, but even
at this more favorable
angle, Rudy stayed stuck.
Officer Tom's radio beeped,
calling him away on some kind
of real police business.
As he was leaving, though, he
had another good idea. "You
know," he said, "I don't think
we can get him out while
he's struggling so much.
We need to get the cat sedated
If he were limp, we could slide
him out." And off he
went, regretfully, a cat lover
still worried about Rudy.
The remaining three of us decided
that getting Rudy sedated
was a good idea, but Rich and
I were new to the area. We
knew that the overnight emergency
veterinary clinic was
only a few minutes away, but
we didn't know exactly how
to get there. "I know where
it is!" declared Officer Mike.
"Follow me!"
So Mike got into his patrol car,
Rich got into the driver's
seat of our car, and I got into
the back, carrying the
kitchen sink, what was left
of the garbage disposal, and
Rudy. It was now about
2:00 a.m. We followed Officer
Mike for a few blocks when I
decided to put my hand into
the garbage disposal to pet
Rudy's face, hoping I could
comfort him. Instead,
my sweet, gentle bedfellow chomped
down on my finger really hard
and wouldn't let go. My
scream reflex kicked into gear.
Rich slammed on the brakes,
hollering What? What happened?
Should I stop?" "No," I
managed to get out between screams,
"just keep driving.
Rudy's biting me, but we've
got to get to the vet. Just
go!" Rich turned his attention
back to the road, where
Officer Mike took a turn we
hadn't expected, and we
followed. After a few
minutes Rudy let go, and as I
stopped screaming, I looked
up to discover that we were
wandering aimlessly through
an industrial park, in and
out of empty parking lots, past
little streets that did
not look at all familiar. "Where's
he taking us?" I asked.
"We should have been there ten
minutes ago!" Rich was as
mystified as I was, but all
we knew to do was follow the
police car until, finally, he
pulled into a church parking
lot and we pulled up next to
him. As Rich rolled down the
window to ask Officer Mike,
where are were going, the cop,
who was not Mike, rolled down
his window and asked, Why
are you following me?"
Once Rich and I recovered from
our shock at having tailed
the wrong cop car and the policeman
from his pique at
being stalked, he led us quickly
to the emergency vet,
where Mike greeted us by holding
open the door, exclaiming
Where were you guys???"
It was lucky that Mike got to
the vet's ahead of us, because
we hadn't thought to call and
warn them about what was
coming. (Clearly, by this time
we weren't really thinking
at all.) We brought in the kitchen
sink containing Rudy,
and the garbage disposal containing
his head, and the
clinic staff was ready.
They took his temperature (which
was down 10 degrees) and his
oxygen level (which was half
of normal), and the vet declared,
"This cat is in serious
shock. We've got to sedate
him and get him out of there
immediately." When I asked if
it was OK to sedate a cat
in shock, the vet said grimly,
"We don't have a choice."
With that, he injected the cat.
Rudy went limp and the
vet squeezed about half a tube
of K-Y jelly onto the
cat's neck and pulled him free.
Then the whole team
jumped into "code blue" mode.
(I know this from watching
a lot of ER.) They laid
Rudy on a cart where one person
hooked up IV fluids, another
put little socks on his
paws ("You'd be amazed how much
heat they lose through
their footpads," she said),
one covered him with hot
water bottles and a blanket,
and another took a blow-
dryer to warm up Rudy's now
very gunky head. The fur
on his head dried in stiff little
spikes, making
him look pathetically punk as
he lay there, limp and
motionless. At this point
they sent Rich, Mike, and
me to sit in the waiting room
while they tried to
bring Rudy back to life.
I told Mike he didn't have
to stay, but he just stood there,
shaking his head.
"I've never seen anything like
this," he said again
and again.
At about 3 a.m., the vet came
in to tell us that the
prognosis was good for a full
recovery. They needed
to keep Rudy overnight to re-hydrate
him and give him
something for the brain swelling
they assumed he had,
but if all went well, we could
take him home the
following night. Just
in time to hear the good news,
Officer Tom rushed in, finished
with his real police
work and concerned about Rudy.
Rich and I got back home about
3:30. We hadn't
unpacked from our trip, I was
still intermittently
dizzy, and I still hadn't prepared
for my 8:40 class.
I need a vacation," I said,
and while I called the
office to leave a message canceling
my class, Rich
made us a pitcher of martinis.
I slept late the
next day and then badgered the
vet about Rudy's
condition until he said that
Rudy could come home
later that day.
I was working on the suitcases
when the phone rang.
"Hi, this is Steve Huskey from
the Norristown Times-
Herald," a voice said. "Listen,
I was just going
through the police blotter from
last night. Um, do
you have a cat?" So I
told Steve the whole story,
which interested him immensely.
A couple hours later
he called back to say that his
editor was interested,
too; did I have a picture of
Rudy? The next day Rudy
was front-page news, under the
ridiculous headline
"Catch of the Day Lands Cat
in Hot Water."
There were some noteworthy repercussions
to the news-
paper article. Mr. Huskey
had somehow inferred that
I called 9-1-1 because I thought
Rich, my husband,
was going into shock, although
how he concluded this
from my comment that "his pads
were turning blue,"
I don't quite understand.
So the first thing I had
to do was call Rich at work--Rich,
who had worked
tirelessly to free Rudy--and
swear that I had been
misquoted.
When I arrived at work myself,
I was famous; people
had been calling my secretary
all morning to inquire
about Rudy's health. When
I called our regular vet
(whom I had met only once) to
make a follow-up
appointment for Rudy, the receptionist
asked, "Is
this the famous Rudy's mother?"
When I took my car in for routine
maintenance a few
days later, Dave, my mechanic,
said, "We read about
your cat. Is he OK?"
When I called a tree surgeon
about my dying red oak, he asked
if I knew the person
on that street whose cat had
been in the garbage
disposal. And when I went to
get my hair cut, the
shampoo person told me the funny
story her grandma
had read in the paper, about
a cat that got stuck in
the garbage disposal.
Even today, over a year later,
people ask about Rudy,
which a 9-year-old neighbor
had always called "the
Adventure Cat" because he used
to climb on the roof
of her house and peer in the
second-story window at
her.
I don't know what the moral of
this story is, but I
do know that this adventure"
cost me $1,100 in
emergency vet bills, follow-up
vet care, new sink,
new plumbing, new electrical
wiring, and new garbage
disposal--one with a cover.
The vet can no longer
say he's seen everything but
the kitchen sink.
I wanted to thank Officers Tom
and Mike by giving
them gift certificates to the
local hardware store,
but was told that they couldn't
accept gifts, that
I would put them in a bad position
if I tried. So
I wrote a letter to the Police
Chief praising their
good deeds and sent individual
thank you notes to
Tom and Mike, complete with
pictures of Rudy, so
they could see what he looks
like with his head on.
And Rudy, whom we originally
got for free (or so
we thought), still sleeps with
me-under the covers
on cold nights, and, unaccountably,
still sometimes
prowls the sink, hoping for
fish.
\\\//
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Subj: Iraq
Terrorist Dies (S89)
From: smiles on 98-10-09
Iraqi terrorist, Khay Rahnajet,
didn't pay enough postage on a
letter bomb. It came back with
"return to sender" stamped on it.
Forgetting it was the bomb,
he opened it and was blown to bits.
\\\//
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Subj: Amazing
Accidents
* A fierce gust of wind blew
45-year-old Vittorio Luise's
car into a river near
Naples, Italy, in 1983. He managed
to break a window, climb
out and swim to shore -- where a
tree blew over and killed
him.
* Mike Stewart, 31, of Dallas
was filming a movie in 1983
on the dangers of low-level
bridges when the truck he was
standing on passed under
a low-level bridge -- killing him.
* Walter Hallas, a 26-year-old
store clerk in Leeds, England,
was so afraid of dentists
that in 1979 he asked a fellow
worker to try to cure
his toothache by punching him in the
jaw. The punch
caused Hallas to fall down, hitting his
head, and he died of
a fractured skull.
(Also see 'German
Head-On Collision' in Darwin Awards2)
* Two West German motorists
had an all-too-literal head-on
collision in heavy fog
near the small town of Guetersloh.
Each was guiding his
car at a snail's pace near the center
of the road. At
the moment of impact their heads were
both out of the windows
when they smacked together. Both
men were hospitalized
with severe head injuries. Their
cars weren't scratched.
* George Schwartz, owner of a
factory in Providence, R.I.,
narrowly escaped death
when a 1983 blast flattened his
factory except for one
wall. After treatment for minor
injuries, he returned
to the scene to search for files.
The remaining wall then
collapsed on him, killing him.
* Depressed since he could not
find a job, 42-year-old
Romolo Ribolla sat in
his kitchen near Pisa, Italy, with
a gun in his hand threatening
to kill himself in 1981.
His wife pleaded for
him not to do it, and after about
an hour he burst into
tears and threw the gun to the
floor. It went
off and killed his wife.
(Also see 'Mrs.
Carson's Funeral' in DARWIN AWARDS2)
* In 1983, a Mrs. Carson of
Lake Kushaqua, N.Y., was laid
out in her coffin, presumed
dead of heart disease. As
mourners watched, she
suddenly sat up. Her daughter
dropped dead of fright.
(Man Hit By Car In New
York)
* A man hit by a car in New
York in 1977 got up uninjured,
but laid back down in
front of the car when a bystander
told him to pretend he
was hurt so he could collect
insurance money. The
car rolled forward and crushed him
to death.
* Surprised while burgling a
house in Antwerp, Belgium, a
thief fled out the back
door, clambered over a nine-foot
wall, dropped down and
found himself in the city prison.
(Also see 'Irishman
Hit By Four Cars' in DARWIN AWARDS2)
* In 1976 a twenty-two-year-old
Irishman, Bob Finnegan, was
crossing the busy Falls
Road in Belfast, when he was
struck by a taxi and
flung over its roof. The taxi drove
away and, as Finnegan
lay stunned in the road, another
car ran into him, rolling
him into the gutter. It too
drove on. As a
knot of gawkers gathered to examine the
magnetic Irishman, a
delivery van plowed through the
crowd, leaving in its
wake three injured bystanders and
an even more battered
Bob Finnegan. When a fourth
vehicle came along, the
crowd wisely scattered and only
one person was hit, Bob
Finnegan. In the space of two
minutes Finnegan suffered
a fractured skull, broken
pelvis, broken leg, and
other assorted injuries. Hospital
officials said he would
recover.
* While motorcycling through
the Hungarian countryside,
Cristo Falatti came up
to a railway line just as the
crossing gates were coming
down. While he sat idling,
he was joined by a farmer
with a goat, which the farmer
tethered to the crossing
gate. A few moments later a
horse and cart drew up
behind Falatti, followed in short
order by a man in a sports
car. When the train roared
through the crossing,
the horse startled and bit Falatti
on the arm. Not
a man to be trifled with, Falatti
responded by punching
the horse in the head. In
consequence the horse's
owner jumped down from his cart
and began scuffling with
the motorcyclist. The horse,
which was not up to this
sort of excitement, backed away
briskly, smashing the
cart into the sports car. At this,
the sports car driver
leaped out of his car and joined
the fray. The farmer
came forward to try to pacify the
three flailing men.
As he did so, the crossing gates
rose and his goat was
strangled. At last report, the
insurance companies were
still trying to sort out the
claims.
* In a classic case of one thing
leading to another, seven
men aged eighteen to
twenty-nine received jail sentences
of three to four years
in Kingston-on-Thames, England,
in 1979 after a fight
that started when one of the men
threw a french fry at
another while they stood waiting
for a train..
* Hitting on the novel idea that
he could end his wife's
incessant nagging by
giving her a good scare, Hungarian
Jake Fen built an elaborate
harness to make it look as
if he had hanged himself.
When his wife came home and
saw him she fainted.
Hearing a disturbance a neighbor
came over and, finding
what she thought were two corpses,
seized the opportunity
to loot the place. As she was
leaving the room, her
arms laden, the outraged and
suspended Mr. Fen kicked
her stoutly in the backside.
This so surprised the
lady that she dropped dead of a
heart attack. Happily,
Mr. Fen was acquitted of
manslaughter and he and
his wife were reconciled.
* An unidentified English woman,
according to the London
Sunday Express was climbing
into the bathtub one after-
noon when she remembered
she had left some muffins in
the oven. Naked,
she dashed downstairs and was removing
the muffins when she
heard a noise at the door. Thinking
it was the baker, and
knowing he would come in and leave
a loaf of bread on the
kitchen table if she didn't answer
his knock, the woman
darted into the broom cupboard. A
few moments later she
heard the back door open and, to
her eternal mortification,
the sound of footsteps coming
toward the cupboard.
It was the man from the gas company,
coming to read the meter.
"Oh," stammered the woman, "I
was expecting the baker."
The gas man blinked, excused
himself and departed.
\\\//
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Subj: Its
A Bad Day When...... (S452, S805)
From: DoctorDebt on 9/13/2005
and
From: tom on 6/16/2012
(also see 'Scuba Man Burned
' in Darwin Awards2)
If you think you're having a
bad day...
| Fire Authorities in California
found a corpse in a burnt out section of forest whilst assessing the damage
done by a forest fire. The deceased male was dressed in a full wetsuit,
complete with a dive tank, flippers and face mask. A post-mortem examination
revealed that the person died not from burns but from massive internal
injuries. Dental records provided a positive identification.
Investigators then set about determining how a fully clad diver ended up in the middle of a forest fire. |
 |
Drawing from
Snopes.com |
It was revealed that, on the
day of the fire, the person
went for a diving trip off the
coast--some 20 MILES away
from the forest. The firefighters,
seeking to control the
fire as quickly as possible,
called in a fleet of helicopters
with very large buckets.
The buckets were dropped into the
ocean for rapid filling, then
flown to the forest fire and
emptied.
You guessed it!!! One minute
our diver was making like Flipper
in the Pacific, the next he
was doing a breaststroke in a fire
bucket 300m in the air.
Apparently, he extinguished exactly
1.78m (5'10") of the fire.
Some days it just doesn't pay to get out of bed!!!!!"
Snopes.com has declared that
this story is false and an Urban
Legend at http://www.snopes.com/horrors/freakish/scuba.asp
\\\//
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Subj: Gerbil
Sex (S82)
From: Tom_Adams on 98-08-24
Actually from the LA Times:
"In retrospect, lighting the
match was my big mistake. But
I was only trying to retrieve
the gerbil," Eric Tomaszewski
told bemused doctors in the
Severe Burns Unit of Salt Lake
City Hospital. Tomaszewski,
and his homosexual partner
Andrew "Kiki" Farnum, had been
admitted for emergency
treatment after a felching session
had gone seriously wrong.
"I pushed a cardboard tube up
his rectum and slipped Raggot,
our gerbil, in," he explained.
"As usual, Kiki shouted out
"Armageddon", my cue that he'd
had enough. I tried to
retrieve Raggot but he wouldn't
come out again, so I peered
into the tube and struck a match,
thinking the light might
attract him."
At a hushed press conference,
a hospital spokesman described
what happened next. "The
match ignited a pocket of intestinal
gas and a flame shot out the
tube, igniting Mr Tomaszewski's
hair and severely burning his
face. It also set fire to the
gerbil's fur and whiskers which
in turn ignited a larger
pocket of gas further up the
intestine, propelling the rodent
out like a cannonball."
Tomaszewski suffered second degree
burns and a broken nose
from the impact of the gerbil,
while Farnum suffered first
and second degree burns to his
anus and lower intestinal
tract.
\\\//
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Subj: Crime
Never Pays
This is a true story according
to a recent issue of Road
and Track Magazine: When
a man attempted to siphon gasoline
from a motorhome parked on a
Seattle street, he got much
more than he bargained for.
Police arrived at the scene to
find an ill man curled up next
to a motorhome near spilled
sewage. A police spokesman
said that the man admitted to
trying to steal gasoline and
plugged his hose into the
motorhome`s sewage tank by mistake.
The owner of the
vehicle declined to press charges,
saying that it was the
best laugh he's ever had.
\\\//
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Subj: Bizarre
Forensic Case (S10, S790)
From: mombear1 on 6/6/2002
and
From: virv on 2/29/2012
Source: http://www.snopes.com/horrors/freakish/opus.htm
At the 1994 annual awards dinner
given by the American
Association for Forensic Science,
AAFS president Don
Harper Mills astounded his audience
in San Diego with
the legal complications of a
bizarre death. Here is
the story:
 |
On 23 March 1994, the
medical
examiner viewed the body of Ronald Opus and concluded that he died from a shotgun wound to the head. The decedent had jumped from the top of a ten- story building intending to commit suicide (he left a note indicating his despondency). As he fell past the ninth floor, his life was interrupted by a shotgun blast through a window, which killed him instantly. Neither the shooter nor the decedent was aware that a |
Ordinarily, Dr. Mills continued,
a person who sets out to
commit suicide ultimately succeeds,
even though the
mechanism might not be what
he intended. That Opus was
shot on the way to certain death
nine stories below
probably would not have changed
his mode of death from
suicide to homicide. But
the fact that his suicidal
intent would not have been successful
caused the medical
examiner to feel that he had
a homicide on his hands.
The room on the ninth floor
whence the shotgun blast
emanated was occupied by an
elderly man and his wife.
They were arguing and he was
threatening her with the
shotgun. He was so upset
that, when he pulled the
trigger, he completely missed
his wife and pellets went
through the window striking
Opus. When one intends to
kill subject A but kills subject
B in the attempt, one
is guilty of the murder of subject
B.
When confronted with this charge,
the old man and his
wife were both adamant that
neither knew that the shot-
gun was loaded. The old
man said it was his long
standing habit to threaten his
wife with the unloaded
shotgun. He had no intention
to murder her - therefore,
the killing of Opus appeared
to be an accident. That is,
the gun had been accidentally
loaded.
The continuing investigation
turned up a witness who saw
the old couple's son loading
the shotgun approximately
six weeks prior to the fatal
incident. It transpired
that the old lady had cut off
her son's financial support
and the son, knowing the propensity
of his father to use
the shotgun threateningly, loaded
the gun with the
expectation that his father
would shoot his mother. The
case now becomes one of murder
on the part of the son for
the death of Ronald Opus.
There was an exquisite twist.
Further investigation
revealed that the son, one Ronald
Opus, had become
increasingly despondent over
the failure of his attempt
to engineer his mother's murder.
This led him to jump
off the ten-story building on
March 23, only to be
killed by a shotgun blast through
a ninth story window.
The medical examiner closed the case as a suicide.
This story is an urban legend
originally written by
Don Harper Mills as an illustration.
You can read about
it at http://www.snopes.com/horrors/freakish/opus.htm
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Subj: Man
Has Three Accidents In One Day (S16, S805)
From: TNKRTEACH on 97-05-24
and
From: tom on 6/16/2012
This came to me as a "true" story
taken from a Florida
Newspaper. I find it a
mild stretch, as where would one
find a "large hill" in Florida?
However it doen't say
that it happened in Florida,
though. Anyway, think you
have had a bad day? Read This:
A man was working on his motorcycle
on his patio and his
wife was in the house in the
kitchen. The man was racing
the engine on the motorcycle
and somehow, the motorcycle
slipped into gear. The
man, still holding the handlebars,
was dragged through a glass
patio door and the motorcycle
dumped onto the floor inside
the house.
The wife, hearing the crash,
ran into the dining room, and
found her husband laying on
the floor, cut and bleeding,
the motorcycle laying next to
him and the patio door
shattered. The wife ran
to the phone and summoned an
ambulance.
Because they lived on a fairly
large hill, the wife went
down the several flights of
long steps to the street to
direct the paramedics to her
husband. After the ambulance
arrived and transported the
husband to the hospital, the
wife uprighted the motorcycle
and pushed it outside.
Seeing that gas had spilled
on the floor, the wife obtained
some paper towels, blotted up
the gasoline, and threw the
towels in the toilet.
The husband was treated at the
hospital and was released
to come home. After arriving
home, he looked at the
shattered patio door and the
damage done to his motorcycle.
He became despondent, went into
the bathroom, sat on the
toilet and smoked a cigarette.
After finishing the
cigarette, he flipped it between
his
legs into the toilet
bowl while still seated.
The wife, who was in the kitchen,
heard a loud explosion
and her husband screaming.
She ran into the bathroom and
found her husband laying on
the floor. His trousers had
been blown away and he was suffering
burns on the buttocks,
the back of his legs and his
groin. The wife again ran to
the phone and called for an
ambulance.
| The same ambulance crew was dispatched and the wife met them at the street. The paramedics loaded the husband on the stretcher and began carrying him to the street. While they were going down the stairs to the street accompanied by the wife, one of the paramedics asked the wife how the husband had burned himself. She told them and the paramedics started laughing so hard, one of them tipped the stretcher and dumped the husband out. He fell down the remaining steps and broke his ankle. |  |
Drawing from
Snopes.com |
But you can see one version of
the newspaper article by
clicking 'HERE'.
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Subj: Stuck
In A Cat Door
From: Scott's Joke Archive 0n 5/31/97
"In retrospect, I admit it was
unwise to try to gain access
to my house via the cat flap,"
Gunther Burpus admitted to
reporters in Bremen, Germany.
"I suppose that the reason
they're called cat flaps, rather
than human flaps, is
because they're too small for
people, and perhaps I should
have realized that." Burpus,
a forty-one year old gardener
from Bremen, was relating how
he had become trapped in his
own front door for two days,
after losing his house keys.
"I got my head and shoulders
through the flap, but became
trapped fast around the waist.
At first, it all seemed
rather amusing. I sang
songs and told myself jokes. But
then I wanted to go to the lavatory.
I began shouting for
help, but my head was in the
hallway so my screams were
muffled. After a few hours,
a group of students approached
me but, instead of helping,
they removed my trousers and
pants, painted my buttocks bright
blue, and stuck a daffodil
between my cheeks.
Then they placed a sign next
to me which said 'Germany
resurgent, an essay in street
art. Please give generously'
and left me there. People
were passing by and, when I
asked for help, they just said
'very good! very clever!'
and threw coins into my trousers.
No one tried to free me.
In fact, I only got free after
two days because a dog
started licking my private parts
and an old woman complained
to the police. They came
and cut me out, but arrested me
as soon as I was freed.
Luckily they've now dropped the
charges, and I collected
over $3,000 in my underpants,
so the time wasn't entirely
wasted."
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Subj: The
Bricklayer (S29 & S374)
From Wyatt's Joke Page on 6/7/97
This is a bricklayer's accident
report that was printed in
the newsletter of the English
equivalent of the Workers'
Compensation Board. So
here, thanks to John Sedgwick is
this Bricklayer's report.
Dear Sir:
I am writing in response to
your request for additional
information in Block #3 of the
accident reporting form.
I put "Poor Planning" as the
cause of my accident. You
asked for a fuller explanation
and I trust the following
details will be sufficient.
I am a bricklayer by trade.
On the day of the accident,
I was working alone on the roof
of a new six-storey
building. When I completed
my work, I found I had some
bricks left over which when
weighed later were found to
weigh 240 lbs. Rather
than carry the bricks down by hand,
I decided to lower them in a
barrel by using a pulley
which was attached to the side
of the building at the
sixth floor.
Securing the rope at ground level,
I went up to the roof,
swung the barrel out and loaded
the bricks into it. Next
I went down and untied the rope,
holding it tightly to
insure a slow descent of the
240 lbs of bricks. You will
note on the accident reporting
form that my weight is 135
lbs.
Due to my surprise at being jerked
off the ground so suddenly,
I lost my presence of mind and
forgot to let go of the rope.
Needless to say, I proceeded
at a rapid rate up the side of
the building.
In the vicinity of the third
floor, I met the barrel which
was now proceeding downward
at an equally impressive speed.
This explains the fractured
skull, minor abrasions and the
broken collarbone, as listed
in Section 3, accident
reporting form. Slowed
only slightly, I continued my rapid
ascent, not stopping until the
fingers of my right hand were
two knuckles deep into the pulley
which I mentioned in
Paragraph 2 of this correspondence.
Fortunately by this
time I had regained my presence
of mind and was able to
hold tightly to the rope, in
spite of the excruciating pain
I was now beginning to experience.
At approximately the same time,
however, the barrel of
bricks hit the ground-and the
bottom fell out of the barrel.
Now devoid of the weight of
the bricks, the barrel weighed
approximately 50 lbs.
I refer you again to my weight.
As you might imagine, I
began a rapid descent down the
side of the building. In
the vicinity of the third floor,
I met the barrel coming
up. This accounts for the two
fractured ankles, broken
tooth and severe lacerations
of my legs and lower body.
Here my luck began to change
slightly. The encounter with
the barrel seemed to slow me
enough to lessen my injuries
when I fell into the pile of
bricks
and fortunately only
three vertebrae were cracked.
I am sorry to report, however,
as I lay there on the pile
of bricks, in pain, unable to
move, I again lost my
composure and presence of mind
and let go of the rope
and I lay there watching the
empty barrel begin its
journey back down onto me.
This explains the two broken
legs.
I hope this answers your inquiry.
\\\//
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Subj: Brainless
Acts
From: TNKRTEACH on 97-06-20
Winners of the Brainless Olympics!
Police in Wichita, Kansas, arrested
a 22-year-old man at
an airport hotel after he tried
to pass two (counterfeit)
$16 bills.
A man in Johannesburg, South
Africa, shot his 49-year-old
friend in the face, seriously
wounding him, while the two
practiced shooting beer cans
off each other's head.
A company trying to continue
its five-year perfect safety
record showed its workers a
film aimed at encouraging the
use of safety goggles on the
job. According to Industrial
Machinery News, the film's depiction
of gory industrial
accidents was so graphic that
twenty-five workers suffered
minor injuries in their rush
to leave the screening room.
Thirteen others fainted, and
one man required seven
stitches after he cut his head
falling off a chair while
watching the film.
The Chico, California, City Council
enacted a ban on
nuclear weapons, setting a $500
fine for anyone detonating
one within city limits.
A bus carrying five passengers
was hit by a car in St. Louis,
but by the time police arrived
on the scene, fourteen
pedestrians had boarded the
bus and had begun to complain
of whiplash injuries and back
pain.
Swedish business consultant Ulf
af Trolle labored 13 years
on a book about Swedish economic
solutions. He took the
250-page manuscript to be copied,
only to have it reduced
to 50,000 strips of paper in
seconds when a worker confused
the copier with the shredder.
A convict broke out of jail in
Washington D.C., then a few
days later accompanied his girlfriend
to her trial for
robbery. At lunch, he
went out for a sandwich. She needed
to see him, and thus had him
paged. Police officers
recognized his name and arrested
him as he returned to
the courthouse in a car he had
stolen over the lunch hour.
Police in Radnor, Pennsylvania,
interrogated a suspect by
placing a metal colander on
his head and connecting it with
wires to a photocopy machine.
The message "He's lying"
was placed in the copier, and
police pressed the copy
button each time they thought
the suspect wasn't telling
the truth. Believing the "lie
detector" was working, the
suspect confessed.
When two service station attendants
in Ionia, Michigan,
refused to hand over the cash
to an intoxicated robber,
the man threatened to call the
police. They still refused,
so the robber called the police
and was arrested.
A Los Angeles man who later said
he was "tired of walking,"
stole a steamroller and led
police on a 5 mph chase until
an officer stepped aboard and
brought the vehicle to a stop.
\\\//
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Subj: Patients
Die On Friday Morning (S314, S587)
From: Scott's Joke Archive on 5/31/97
and
From: darrellvip on 4/19/2008
From (Cape Times, South Africa,
6/13/96) "For several months,
our nurses have been baffled
to find a dead patient in the
same bed every Friday morning"
a spokeswoman for the Pelonomi
Hospital (Free State, South
Africa) told reporters. "There
was no apparent cause for any
of the deaths, and extensive
checks on the air conditioning
system, and a search for
possible bacterial infection,
failed to reveal any clues."
"However, further inquiries
have now revealed the cause of
these deaths.
It seems that every Friday morning
a cleaner would enter the
ward, remove the plug that powered
the patient's life support
system, plug her floor polisher
into the vacant socket, then
go about her business.
When she had finished her chores, she
would plug the life support
machine back in and leave, unaware
that the patient was now dead.
She could not, after all, hear
the screams and eventual death
rattle over the whirring of her
polisher.
"We are sorry, and have sent
a strong letter to the cleaner in
question. Further, the
Free State Health and Welfare Department
is arranging for an electrician
to fit an extra socket, so there
should be no repetition of this
incident. The enquiry is now
closed." BTW, the headline of
the newspaper story was, "Cleaner
Polishes Off Patients."
Snopes.com says that this story
is just an urban legend at
http://www.snopes.com/horrors/freakish/cleaner.asp
\\\//
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| Subj:
Darwin Awards Rejects (S595c in Darwin1)
From: LABLaughsClean on 6/13/2008 Photo from
YouTube...
|
 |
You can view this video of five
accidents at the above source,
or on my web site by clicking
'HERE'.
\\\//
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.
.............................
.Smiley
in shock from Smiley_Central.
.
.