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What's the biggest hole you've ever dug? (1 Viewer)

2 guys working on the side of the road. One was digging a hole , the other one waited a minute and filled the hole back.

Then they moved on and after about 10 feet they did the same - digging up , waiting a minute , and filling it back up. They kept repeating this process.

Someone who was watching them asked, "What the hell are you guys doing ?"

One of them replied: "My job is to dig up a hole, this other guy's job is to fill the hole. The guy that plants the trees called in sick today"
 
2 guys working on the side of the road. One was digging a hole , the other one waited a minute and filled the hole back.

Then they moved on and after about 10 feet they did the same - digging up , waiting a minute , and filling it back up. They kept repeating this process.

Someone who was watching them asked, "What the hell are you guys doing ?"

One of them replied: "My job is to dig up a hole, this other guy's job is to fill the hole. The guy that plants the trees called in sick today"
Best joke about government work ever.

2nd place is the possibly untrue but still funny attribution to Milton Friedman on a trip to China:
Milton recalled traveling to an Asian country in the 1960s and visiting a worksite where a new canal was being built. He was shocked to see that, instead of modern tractors and earth movers, the workers had shovels. He asked why there were so few machines. The government bureaucrat explained: “You don’t understand. This is a jobs program.” To which Milton replied: “Oh, I thought you were trying to build a canal. If it’s jobs you want, then you should give these workers spoons, not shovels.”
 
Reminds me of the stories of children that die when sand holes they are digging collapse on them. Eek. At least all survived here, I assume.

I forgot about that! I totally did that when I was a kid, I was probably a little over 5' tall and dug a 6' hole on the beach. Had to dig steps into the side to get out. Then an adult came up and told me about the danger of what I was doing and how kids die from that "all the time"....I quickly climbed out and filled it back in, and after getting over the initial scare went back to only being worried about being killed by lava, quicksand, King Cobras, or the deadly Pop Rocks and Coke combo.
 
Reminds me of the stories of children that die when sand holes they are digging collapse on them. Eek. At least all survived here, I assume.

I forgot about that! I totally did that when I was a kid, I was probably a little over 5' tall and dug a 6' hole on the beach. Had to dig steps into the side to get out. Then an adult came up and told me about the danger of what I was doing and how kids die from that "all the time"....I quickly climbed out and filled it back in, and after getting over the initial scare went back to only being worried about being killed by lava, quicksand, King Cobras, or the deadly Pop Rocks and Coke combo.
Wimp. Everyone knows the real danger was Satanic cults. Man you were a dumb kid.
 
Reminds me of the stories of children that die when sand holes they are digging collapse on them. Eek. At least all survived here, I assume.

I forgot about that! I totally did that when I was a kid, I was probably a little over 5' tall and dug a 6' hole on the beach. Had to dig steps into the side to get out. Then an adult came up and told me about the danger of what I was doing and how kids die from that "all the time"....I quickly climbed out and filled it back in, and after getting over the initial scare went back to only being worried about being killed by lava, quicksand, King Cobras, or the deadly Pop Rocks and Coke combo.
Wimp. Everyone knows the real danger was Satanic cults. Man you were a dumb kid.

Yeah but only if you played records backwards.

I had a bunch of Eddie pins on my jean jacket, so they left me alone.
 
I spent the summer before my junior year working landscaping. I dug so many holes and trenches it almost broke me. The worst day ever wasn’t the size of the hole but the number. A crew of 5 of us planted 50 aspen trees in Hailey, ID, which is like digging through concrete. Two guys took turns going from hole to hole with a pick axe while the rest of us cleared. For weeks after my fingers would lock into place whenever I made a fist. On the plus side I drank a six pack of Coors tall boys during the two hour drive home in the bed of the pickup truck. Ah to be 16 and poor again.
 
Hole to pour a foundation for a basketball hoop and way overdid it, must have been almost a ton of concrete in that thing.

I'll tell you what though, that sumbitch ain't moving... ever. Bring on Shaq.
 
Was a production assistant on the Los Angeles reshoots for the horror flick Cabin Fever and had to dig a hole in a cave that a body would fit in. We shot in Griffith Park at the same site the Bat Cave from the '60's Batman was. Hole ended up being maybe 4 feet deep and they brought in someone at the end to dig about a foot deeper cause I was shot after going for what seemed like hours. I had to guard the site after everyone left and was more nervous than I should have been about the coyotes I kept hearing all around me.
 
Never been a ditch digger. Done some other construction but thankfully never digging. I think maybe the biggest was when I buried my dad at the beach when I was like 6. Although I think he did most the work for that.
 
Buried 100 dead chicks once. So probably that hole.
I have so many questions. What was the breakdown of blondes / brunettes / redheads? Were they all your handiwork or were you just on disposal and remediation? What did they do to suffer such severe consequences? Nagging? Cheating? Generally annoying? Inquiring minds want to know.
 
Buried 100 dead chicks once. So probably that hole.
I have so many questions. What was the breakdown of blondes / brunettes / redheads? Were they all your handiwork or were you just on disposal and remediation? What did they do to suffer such severe consequences? Nagging? Cheating? Generally annoying? Inquiring minds want to know.

They were all platinum blonde, with feathered hair.

They didn't do anything wrong. They were just in the wrong place (the barn) at the wrong time when it flooded. I came home from taking the PSATs to find the carnage, and jumped into action rescuing the 50 or so that had climbed on top of the others to survive. Chicks.....they can be ruthless.

My parents sold that property several years later, and a developer put in 4-5 homes. I always wondered if somebody on the construction crews came across that trench filled with a hundred little bird skeletons and wondered what in the hell had gone on.
 
Buried 100 dead chicks once. So probably that hole.
I have so many questions. What was the breakdown of blondes / brunettes / redheads? Were they all your handiwork or were you just on disposal and remediation? What did they do to suffer such severe consequences? Nagging? Cheating? Generally annoying? Inquiring minds want to know.

They were all platinum blonde, with feathered hair.

They didn't do anything wrong. They were just in the wrong place (the barn) at the wrong time when it flooded. I came home from taking the PSATs to find the carnage, and jumped into action rescuing the 50 or so that had climbed on top of the others to survive. Chicks.....they can be ruthless.

My parents sold that property several years later, and a developer put in 4-5 homes. I always wondered if somebody on the construction crews came across that trench filled with a hundred little bird skeletons and wondered what in the hell had gone on.
Like 15 years ago, one of our daughters had a class in middle school where they studied / incubated / hatched a bunch of chicks right before the end of the school year. She asked the teacher what was going to happen to the chicks when school ended, and she was appalled what they were going to do to them, so she told the school we would take all of them. We don't live in a zone that allows chickens, but my in-laws did. So I got volunteered to build them a chicken coop.

That alone wouldn't have been that bad, but everyone was SOOOOOOO concerned about the cute little chickens that this thing turned into a major project. It turned into the Taj Mahal of chicken coops. Like the size of a standalone garage. It ended up having multi levels, a fenced in yard for them, everything covered in netting so predators couldn't get in, etc. I ended up adding water and power for heating lamps. There was shelving, storage, big swinging doors that opened, even windows. I even added sliding ramps so they could get in and out of the coup and also added roofing to the damn thing. My in-laws liked the chicks so much, they even went out and bought more chicks. This thing chewed up my entire summer and cost thousands of dollars out of my own pocket to put together,

This monstrosity had only been done a week and a half when my in-laws got transferred, they sold the house, and the people that bought the property immediately tore the whole thing down. Someone came and took all the chickens and planned to eat them all. Our daugther ended up as upset as if we never took in the chicks. Let's just say I wasn't happy how that all turned out.
 
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Buried 100 dead chicks once. So probably that hole.
I have so many questions. What was the breakdown of blondes / brunettes / redheads? Were they all your handiwork or were you just on disposal and remediation? What did they do to suffer such severe consequences? Nagging? Cheating? Generally annoying? Inquiring minds want to know.

They were all platinum blonde, with feathered hair.

They didn't do anything wrong. They were just in the wrong place (the barn) at the wrong time when it flooded. I came home from taking the PSATs to find the carnage, and jumped into action rescuing the 50 or so that had climbed on top of the others to survive. Chicks.....they can be ruthless.

My parents sold that property several years later, and a developer put in 4-5 homes. I always wondered if somebody on the construction crews came across that trench filled with a hundred little bird skeletons and wondered what in the hell had gone on.
Like 15 years ago, one of our daughters had a class in middle school where they studied / incubated / hatched a bunch of chicks right before the end of the school year. She asked the teacher what was going to happen to the chicks when school ended, and she was appalled what they were going to do to them, so she told the school we would take all of them. We don't live in a zone that allows chickens, but my in-laws did. So I got volunteered to build them a chicken coop.

That alone wouldn't have been that bad, but everyone was SOOOOOOO concerned about the cute little chickens that this thing turned into a major project. It turned into the Taj Mahal of chicken coops. Like the size of a standalone garage. It ended up having multi levels, a fenced in yard for them, everything covered in netting so predators couldn't get in, etc. I ended up adding water and power for heating lamps. There was shelving, storage, big swinging doors that opened, even windows. I even added sliding ramps so they could get in and out of the coup and also added roofing to the damn thing. My in-laws liked the chicks so much, they even went out and bought more chicks. This thing chewed up my entire summer and cost thousands of dollars out of my own pocket to put together,

This monstrosity had only been done a week and a half when my in-laws got transferred, they sold the house, and the people that bought the property immediately tore the whole thing down. Someone came and took all the chickens and planned to eat them all. Our daugther ended up as upset as if we never took in the chicks. Let's just say I wasn't happy how that all turned out.
I remember when I was known as the chicken murderer. THanks for assuming that role.
 
April 6, 2013, GMTAN post #122,858

my day

Been working way too hard and long, so I decided to drive out to the country and buy some laying hens. Guy had 10 to sell me, so I am off to the west side of Elgin. Guy told to take the highway toward Bastrop, which I assumed was 21, but that was actually 17 miles past 95, that I had passed close to half an hour ago. I loop around and go back, only baout an hour late.

We go into his coop, stepping over the foot and a half fence at the bottom of the coop door, He uses some kind of big chicken net to snare thee hens and put them in the box, which lift up and carry off to the car. Forgetting the foot and a half fence in the doorway, that of course trips me. I go sprawling forward, holding the box in front of me nad it hits the ground, shortly followed by my chin that smacks onto the edge of it. My knees and elbows are skinned and I'm literally seeing stars. A few moments later I regain my senses and load the box in the back of the car. We repeat twice (both times with me standing safely outside the coop, safe from the nefarious threshold.

I get all three boxes loaded into the back of the car and to make sure they don't escape, I thorw a piece of memory foam on top of the boxes to hold the lid down. I thought I was being smart, since if I hit the brakes hard, the foam wouldn't fall off. I finally get home an hour later and back up to my coop to let the hens out and in the first box only two are alive, the other two dead. THe other two boxes each contain three dead chickens. They felt hot as hell. I guess their body heat with the memory foam on top just made them to hot and they all freaking died.

Now my wife's pissed and our friend staying with us is back in her bedroom crying.

Nice to have a few hours off on a Saturday afternoon...

fml
 
April 6, 2013, GMTAN post #122,858

my day

Been working way too hard and long, so I decided to drive out to the country and buy some laying hens. Guy had 10 to sell me, so I am off to the west side of Elgin. Guy told to take the highway toward Bastrop, which I assumed was 21, but that was actually 17 miles past 95, that I had passed close to half an hour ago. I loop around and go back, only baout an hour late.

We go into his coop, stepping over the foot and a half fence at the bottom of the coop door, He uses some kind of big chicken net to snare thee hens and put them in the box, which lift up and carry off to the car. Forgetting the foot and a half fence in the doorway, that of course trips me. I go sprawling forward, holding the box in front of me nad it hits the ground, shortly followed by my chin that smacks onto the edge of it. My knees and elbows are skinned and I'm literally seeing stars. A few moments later I regain my senses and load the box in the back of the car. We repeat twice (both times with me standing safely outside the coop, safe from the nefarious threshold.

I get all three boxes loaded into the back of the car and to make sure they don't escape, I thorw a piece of memory foam on top of the boxes to hold the lid down. I thought I was being smart, since if I hit the brakes hard, the foam wouldn't fall off. I finally get home an hour later and back up to my coop to let the hens out and in the first box only two are alive, the other two dead. THe other two boxes each contain three dead chickens. They felt hot as hell. I guess their body heat with the memory foam on top just made them to hot and they all freaking died.

Now my wife's pissed and our friend staying with us is back in her bedroom crying.

Nice to have a few hours off on a Saturday afternoon...

fml
I feel like chicken tonight, chicken tonight, chicken tonight!!!
 
Summer between 7th and 8th grade. My buddy who lives across the street and I get the brilliant idea to dig a tunnel under the street to each other’s yards. All summer we dug. And dug. And dug. We got really deep holes on both sides. Then the time came to connect them. So we dug some more.

Luckily, a little over a month into the project we had a huge rainstorm that destroyed everything and we both agreed it was a good time to end the ridiculousness.
 
1989…..19 years old and looking for a summer job while I was playing ball and going to college.

I had the bright idea of becoming an apprentice in a plumbing union.

I got to pick coral rock and dig trenches in what was supposed to be at that time the new spring training home for the Cleveland Indians down in Homestead FL.

Needless to say after 5 weeks of working in the hot sun doing manual labor…..I got a great lesson to stay in college and get my degree as….yeah not for me.

But boy what a workout.
 
Worked on a golf course grounds crew. They had added more sprinkler heads and increased the water pressure which caused leaks in the old water lines. The old water lines were 5 feet deep. First 3 days on the job I dug holes for 11 hours a day. There were usually 2 of us digging, but the holes were around 8' x 4' x 5' through mud. Needless to say, that sucked. The head greenskeeper would come around once in a while to say, "You guys aren't done yet?" By the 3rd day he was lucky to not get a shovel to the back of his head.

We dug about 5 of those before they brought in a machine for the last couple. I think I lost 20 lbs that summer. It was a nice job when we were just mowing all day.
 
April 6, 2013, GMTAN post #122,858

my day

Been working way too hard and long, so I decided to drive out to the country and buy some laying hens. Guy had 10 to sell me, so I am off to the west side of Elgin. Guy told to take the highway toward Bastrop, which I assumed was 21, but that was actually 17 miles past 95, that I had passed close to half an hour ago. I loop around and go back, only baout an hour late.

We go into his coop, stepping over the foot and a half fence at the bottom of the coop door, He uses some kind of big chicken net to snare thee hens and put them in the box, which lift up and carry off to the car. Forgetting the foot and a half fence in the doorway, that of course trips me. I go sprawling forward, holding the box in front of me nad it hits the ground, shortly followed by my chin that smacks onto the edge of it. My knees and elbows are skinned and I'm literally seeing stars. A few moments later I regain my senses and load the box in the back of the car. We repeat twice (both times with me standing safely outside the coop, safe from the nefarious threshold.

I get all three boxes loaded into the back of the car and to make sure they don't escape, I thorw a piece of memory foam on top of the boxes to hold the lid down. I thought I was being smart, since if I hit the brakes hard, the foam wouldn't fall off. I finally get home an hour later and back up to my coop to let the hens out and in the first box only two are alive, the other two dead. THe other two boxes each contain three dead chickens. They felt hot as hell. I guess their body heat with the memory foam on top just made them to hot and they all freaking died.

Now my wife's pissed and our friend staying with us is back in her bedroom crying.

Nice to have a few hours off on a Saturday afternoon...

fml
I feel like chicken tonight, chicken tonight, chicken tonight!!!

Every night
 

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