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  • Industrial Accidents

    Timothy O'Reilly was genuinely fond of drinking beer. So much so, that after graduating from college with an MBA, he started up his own pub, complete with an in-house microbrewery. At first, the luck of the Irish was with O'Reilly, and the pub was so successful that the profits from beer sales were more than sufficient to stay ahead of his own beer consumption "for quality control purposes".

    But alas, O'Reilly's luck was not to hold. One night when he was working late, O'Reilly was the victim of a fatal accident at the brewery.

    The unenviable task of giving the news to O'Reilly's wife fell on the shoulders of the brewery's assistant manager, James Flynn. Explaining that Timothy had been working in the rafters of the brewery that night, Flynn told Mrs. O'Reilly that her husband had fallen into one of the vats used in the final bottling process.

    "Oh no!" Mrs. O'Reilly shrieked, "Did he die quickly?"

    "Not exactly," said Flynn. "He climbed out three times to use the bathroom before he succumbed to drowning."

    -------------------------------------------------

    A man was in an accident (work accident, not car accident), so he filled out an insurance claim. The insurance company contacted him and asked for more information. This was his response:

    I am writing in response to your request for additional information for block number 3 of the accident reporting form. I put 'poor planning' as the cause of my accident. You said in your letter that I should explain more fully and I trust the following detail will be sufficient. I am an amateur radio operator and on the day of the accident, I was working alone on the top section of my new 80 foot tower. Cartoon of the legend When I had completed my work, I discovered that I had, over the course of several trips up the tower, brought up about 300 pounds of tools and spare hardware. Rather than carry the now un-needed tools and material down by hand, I decided to lower the items down in a small barrel by using a pulley, which was fortunately attached to the gin pole at the top of the tower. Securing the rope at ground level, I went to the top of the tower and loaded the tools and material into the barrel. Then I went back to the ground and untied the rope, holding it tightly to ensure a slow descent of the 300 pounds of tools. You will note in block number 11 of the accident reporting form that I weigh only 155 pounds. Due to my surprise of 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 rather rapid rate of speed up the side of the tower. In the vicinity of the 40 foot level, I met the barrel coming down. This explains my fractured skull and broken collarbone. Slowed only slightly, I continued my rapid ascent, not stopping until the fingers of my right hand were two knuckles deep into the pulley.

    Fortunately, by this time, I had regained my presence of mind and was able to hold onto the rope in spite of my pain. At approximately the same time, however, the barrel of tools hit the ground and the bottom fell out of the barrel. Devoid of the weight of the tools, the barrel now weighed approximately 20 pounds. I refer you again to my weight in block number 11. As you might imagine, I began a rapid descent down the side of the tower. In the vicinity of the 40 foot level, I met the barrel coming up. This accounts for the two fractured ankles, and the lacerations of my legs and lower body. The encounter with the barrel slowed me enough to lessen my injuries when I fell onto the pile of tools and, fortunately, only three vertebrae were cracked. I am sorry to report, however, that as I lay there on the tools, in pain, unable to stand and watching the empty barrel 80 feet above me, I again lost my presence of mind. I let go of the rope . . .
    Any fool can piss on the floor. It takes a talented SC to shit on the ceiling.
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