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This is a question Council Cunts

Stallion Explosion writes "I was in a record shop in Melbourne, flicking through the vinyl, when I found a record entitled 'Hackney Council Are A Bunch Of Cunts'"

We agree.

Have you been trapped in the relentless petty minded bureaucracy of your local council?
Why does it require 3 forms of ID to get a parking permit when the car in question is busy receiving a parking ticket right outside the parking office?

Or do you work for Hackney Council?

(, Thu 26 Jul 2007, 10:51)
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Ooo OO ooo I have one!
Although it's about school bureaucracy which is sort of like Council stuff... Spose.

Couple of months back there was a happy little farce in my place of work. Scene: Science department of a large comprehensive.

The chemistry prep room door doesn’t close properly sometimes and that morning two naughty little students were found coming out of the place. About half an hour later a knock comes on my door with a teacher asking me if I know how hazardous the contents of this little pot is. Little pot is about 4cms high and contains around 1g of indicator powder. Indicator shows up pH range of ~7.5 – 8.3 for all you (interested) boffs.
“Dunno” says I, “Perhaps ask the chemistry tech.” (I be a stand in Biotechnician. I did a degree in maths & physics. Hmm)
This red indicator had been snaffled from *somewhere* by some little cherub and mixed liberally with water to create a lovely dye that has stained hands and about 40 square feet of science lab. Teacher duly sets about cleaning it up with a mop and bucket, which is no mean feat considering how much it stains. Understand that I would have done it, but my agar was setting. A nasty complaint.
Chemistry tech berates students slightly who ask “Will it kill me if I breathed it in?!”. "Unfortunately no", is the answer.

Pot had been taken from the corner of the shelf nearest the door of the prep room. Smash & Grab without the smash. I maintain that if they’d have just looked a little further along the shelf and taken the magnesium ribbon, it would have made everyone’s day a whole lot easier. All that would have occurred were four burnt eyes.
Teacher wanted to know the hazards of this material of course, and off I go to find out. Partially for my own curiosity and partly because I’m anal. I’ve no idea where the hazard cards are, so google becomes my friend. Google’s offspring says that it’s an irritant on skin… irritant on eyes… irritant to upper trachea if inhaled… the usual. Similar to what you’d get with simailr washing powder and suchlike. Heck, soap would be worse in the eye…

I present teacher with the sheets just so she’s informed, with the appropriate bits asterixed as it’s a long document of bumf. Teacher says that the kids who nicked it say they can’t breathe properly which is probably a load of tosh. Hypochondria by twumps. Teacher takes it off in the direction that the students were removed – towards the offices of deputy heads of doom.

A couple of hours later and I am glared upon as I enter the main prep room. Who was it put these people up to the idea that it was a dangerous compound? Myself, by giving teacher what she asked for. Dear oh dear. Why is this a bad thing? Well we have ambulance peeps coming to collect the evil pot of death to take it away for analysis. Oh… my… What the feck?

Titter we do. Because that’s simply stupid is it not?

Count one for the jobsworths.

But it does not end, no no no.

Teacher goes to hospital. Three students go to hospital. The bucket full of soapy water that they washed their hands in in the nurses room has to be disposed of properly. And the bucket has to be got rid of because it’s contaminated.

Count two, three and four.

Contaminated water is disposed of scientifically. Down the nearest sink.

And of course… there was the area the indicator covered. That would have been a spill would it not? Of a chemical? So… A chemical spill?

Four fire engines arrive.

There is no chemical spill of course. Although I enacted one by squirting some detergent on the desk and screaming pitifully.

Four fire engines leave.

Bearing in mind that the town is serviced by one fire station about half a mile form the school & it has two fire rigs.
The other two have come from a distance away. My mother wondered where the engines were going when she heard them blaring to the rescue a little after midday.

Count seven million, five hundred & sixty four thousand, three hundred & seventy two for the jobsworths.

Apparently as soon as they had called the ambulance, it was too late to back down… They would have looked silly… A certain deputy head takes it upon himself to basically scour the whole thing clean with as many emergency services as possible. And no, he wasn’t scientist. I don’t think anyone thought of talking to the technicians.

Drop of indicator becomes flood of chemical becomes spill of toxins. Pupils from the class queue up complaining of feeling odd, not that they’d be getting home early on a Friday of course. Office goes into a frenzy. SWAT team called in. All chemicals shot on sight.

The proper hazard cards were dug out and it said exactly the same thing as the sheet I printed out: As chemicals go, it’s pretty tame. You’d have more trouble with the agar powder and that smells awful aswell.

As the chemistry technician pointed out, “I wouldn’t even wear gloves to mix up the damn indicator solution anyway.”

Frickin’ idiots.

Mmm long. Enjoy it. It's well funny.
(, Sun 29 Jul 2007, 14:04, Reply)

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