Let's Have a Funny Pic Thread! Mk 54

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baimun said:
My dad designed and built a wall mounted lever device in the garage with a trash can over it... it had a cylindrical opening that was angled slightly towards you when facing it, you'd pull the lever down and it would straighten up and the can would be crushed from the top down to a little aluminum puck, then when you raise the lever back up... the cylinder would tip forward and the aluminum puck would fall out of a slot in the bottom into a trash can.

Usually he would just walk out to the garage with an empty and crush it, but occasionally there would be a small container with a few dozen that he'd have me load - crunch - load - crunch.... but I didn't mind because that compressed bag didn't take up as much space and he'd let me keep the money after we dropped it at the metal recycle.

It's kind of funny to me now that Michigan and Indiana have different recycle rules/laws/deposit fees... so you have to drop them at the grocery store intact so their machine can read the barcode.
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One of my favorite jobs ever... ...drive up to the house and there is a trike, motorcycle front with VW back, in the driveway. Customer is an old man, retired, with too much time on his hands. I don't even have all my tools in the house yet and customer offers me a soda. I'm thinking, maybe in a couple of hours I'd like a break but, I just got here. He won't take no for an answer. I take a big swig and set it down. That obviously wasn't the correct thing to do. Only way he's going to let me work is drink all the soda first. I finish it. He says, come out to the garage and see my can crusher. I'm thinking it's going to be one of those wall mounted ones with the lever. No, it's on the floor and has an air piston in it. In between the crusher and the compressor there's a weird valve, kinda sorta looks like a wah, one hose going to the compressor and two hoses going to his crusher and the part you step on is level with the floor. He puts the can in it and pushes down with his toe and in an instant, it's flat. Then he rocks his switch thing to heel down. A blast of air shoots his newly made puck to the far corner of his garage where he has a box waiting for it.

And that's the dream. To retire. To have nothing but, time on your hands to do the stupid shit you always wanted to do but, never had the time for.
 
Tig said:
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At Indiana University (Bloomington Indiana) there was one of those "burn in hell" preachers who was always standing in the middle of the quad, yelling at students through a megaphone. I remember seeing lesbians taunt him by making out in front of him...

.... but the best was some poor innocent girl pushing a stroller through campus and he pointed at her and called her a "whore" and a "harlot" :messedup: She took the lid off of her McDonalds milkshake and threw it right in that fucker's face. :eek: :lmbo:
 
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