Ever know someone who survives in spite of being a complete & utter wally ALL the time?

Let me introduce such a person by the name of Carl Gaines, He must be in his 30's by now (assuming he's still alive). He's about 6'8 & 9 stone.

Heres a few things this guy has done:

Pootling along on a VERY old Suzuki 100 (H reg, the FIRST time around, '68?). Car pulls out in front of him, he brakes, car accelerates, he accelerates, car brakes, he continues to accellerate right into the back of it & goes over the top. Lands in front of car. Gets up, rides home.
Complains of wrist pain, I takle him to Addenbrookes. He ends up with his right wrist in a cast. next day he complains about pain in left wrist. I again take him to Addenbrookes & bring him home with 2 casts on... His father looks at him, looks at me & says "NOW what the fuck did he do???" I explain thats it a continuation of the previous crash
2 weeks later he has the plaster replaced by fiberglass because he broke the casts using em as hammers to loosen wheel nuts.
6 weeks after the accident i take him back to Addenbrookes. We exit the hospital just as an SR71 fly's over on it's way to Mildenhall. Carl looks up, trips over kerb, re breaks left wrist as he falls flat on his face in the middle of the carpark. His dad was SO impressed with that one....

Carl buys CG125 to replace bent Suzuki. It won't start & he requests a tow from his place (Chesterton) to his dad's place (near Bourne). Only person available is me, only vehicle is his dad's 750 Virago with sidecar...
I attach rope to rollbar on sidecar, Carl ties the other end around his chest. I pull away, he flies over the bars & I drag him about 40ft up Chesterton High St.
We try again
This time he ties rope to handlebars, I pull CG125 out from underneath him & drag the bike 40ft up Chesterton High St.
We try one more time
SUCCESS!! so off we go, about every mile or so along the A45 he would drop the bike in gear & let out the clutch. This would result in a smoke screen of WWII Destroyer proportions. Takes about an hour, but I get him to his dads place.
His dads comment: "NOW what the fuck has he bought? & how the hell did he get all that gravel rash from being towed???"

Carl decides to fix the Suzuki, whilst straightening out the crash damage & doing a test ride he seizes the engine. He takes the engine apart & drops the clylinder off in Cambridge for boring.
2 weeks later his dad is having a party. Carl offers me "£10 to bolt the head on". Sounds like a bargain to me, 10 quid for 4 nuts? done deal!.
However, at the party he hands me a box containing the head, barrel, piston, rings, wrist pin, small end bearing,gaskets & some other bits. The price goes up & he agrees to pay the increased price.
I assemble the engine on the back patio at the end of the garden, about 150ft from the house. I tell him it's all done & to start it.
It starts 3rd kick.....

and immediatley redlines itself, it's revving at about 10K rpm....

I yell at Carl to turn the key off, he yells back thats it's stuck in the on position...

I yell at him to him the kill switch.....

He yells back that doesn't have one

I yell at him to turn off the fuel tap

He yells back that it's jammed

I yell "goodbye" & fuck off a bit sharpish before it explodes...

Carl takes the hint & follows me down the garden back to the house in record setting time.

After 2 or 3 minutes the revs dies down, I run back to the bike & knock the plug cap off. Silence has never been so golden.

At this point Carl produces a previously unseen bike part from his pocket & asks if this has anything to do with it....
It's the idle adjustment screw.... I pick up a nearby hammer, Carl's dad tells me not to waste good tools on thick skulls.
I install the screw start bike & it idles perfectly.... Carl then asks me about *running in* & then can't work out why everyone is falling about in hysterics.

And then there was another party......
Carl has somehow come to realise that people won;t hear the doorbell when the stereo is going tits out. He rigs up the doorbell to a strobe light in the front room. He forgets to tell anyone else about this & the first I know about it is about an hour into a pile of mushrooms I think aliens are landing when someone "rings the bell".
And then the fireworks come out, me & his dad set off a few dozen bottles rockets, holding them in one hand while igniting them with the other. We're doing this sat on the windowsill & firing into the back garden.
Carl decides he wants to try this, gets about 6 bottlerockets in his left hand, Zippo in right hand, both hands out of said window. Lights the blue touch paper and.......

His girlfriend walks into the room, says *Hi Carl* & the silly bastard turns around just as the rockets ignite...
GREAT! now we have one moron, one scared girl & a half dozen or so people in the throws of mushroom madness all trying to avoid the 6 rockets now railing around the room, bouncing off walls etc.

While all this was going on, Carl's dad had gone to answer the door. I'm also in the hallway

It was the Police...

They've come about the fireworks....

Carl's dad is doing a fine job of telling them it must have been next door & almost has them convinced. They ask about screaming coming from inside the house.

Carl (the main source of the screaming)opens the living room door at this point, runs past me, his dad & the cops into the front garden. Rocket zooms along the hallway. Carls dad ducks, I duck, Cop moves his head to one side as rocket goes whizzin past his ear & explodes directly behind his head. *WHOOOMPH!!*. The garden lights up like the opening day at the fucking Somme. I'm on the floor just about pissing myself laughing.
Carl's girlfriend runs sceaming past all of us with a bunch of burning curtains in her arms. Carls dad, in one of the greatest understatements of the 20th Century looks at the cops & says "You look a tad upset Officer, would you like a cup of tea?"
Fire Brigade arrive, luckily the only burning items are the pile of curtains on the lawn.
How no one went to jail is still a mystery.


Remember back a while ago? none of his bikes are working? well his pushbike was....
Me & his dad are going to work one morning along Newmarket road. We're in/on the sidecar outfit. We bump into Carl & he aks for a tow, grabs hold of the roll bar & away we go. Carl asks that we keep it down to 15mph. We get up to 25mph, I tell Carl we're doing 15mph, he says go faster, we get to 35mph, I tell him we're doing 20mph, we slow down for the big roundabout at Newmarket Rd/East Rd/Maids Causeway. Carl is enjoying himself as we nail it down past the Zebra pub. We're doing 45mph, he thinks we're doing 25mph.
There is traffic at the other end of the road down by King St. Carls dad hits the brakes, Carl doesn't. He barely avoids 2 or 3 cars & then he's into the roundabout, bounces off the side of 3 different cars (still doing about 45mph) & heads off up the street on the other side of the roundabout.
Then he makes his almost fatal mistake
He turned round, waves goodbye to me & his dad, hits the kerb, gets airborne & disappears down someone cellar steps, still attached to the bicycle. There are trashcans at the bottom of the steps. We hear the crash from the other side of the roundabout.
His dad looks at me, I look at him. He has tears in his eyes & says "I'm fucking SURE that idiot isn't related to me".

The Car Race:

Me & a mad Irishman (Jimmy) in a mini, Carl, his dad (Bob) & Bob's girlfriend in a Moggie Minor pick up. Carl is in the back....
We're racing from Diss in Norfolk back to Cambridge. We're ahead of Carl & Bob.
For some reason Jimmy decides to *fake a breakdown to freak em out*. We screech to a halt on the A45 near Newmarket, leap out & raise the bonnet. We're stood there looking bewildered as they pass us. We're at the bottom of a hill. Carl & Bob stop at the top of the hill. We see much arm waving from Carl in the back of the pick up, they are at least 1/2mile away. Suddenly Carl gets out of the truck & starts running down the hill towards us.

Jim says *wait for it.....*

we wait...

We wait until Carl is about 100ft away, slam the bonnet shut, leap back in the Mini & haul ass. Carl looks confused, As we pass the Moggie, Bob (having sussed our cunning plan) already has it started & is pulling away.
It took Carl another 6 hours to hitch a ride home, he wasn't very happy....


Stilt Walking:

At the same party as the strobe/fireworks episode...

Carl finds 2 9ft long curtain rods, they had been holding up what is now a smoldering pile of ash in the front yard. He thinks they would make good stilts. Carl doesn't understand the principle behind stilts. Namely, that they have somwhere to put your feet.
He stands on the arm of the couch, sticks the end of a curtain rod in each armpit & sets forth. Legs flailing, he falls over.. repeatedly.

Carl is one of those *scruffy buggers* with all the sartorial elegance of a homeless bum. He's wearing TWO pairs of Levi's. The outer pair being so shreaded that they are little more than rags. I point out to him that the reason for his failure is his legs swinging about & suggest that he slide the curtain rods between the 2 pairs of Levi's. His dad looks at me & furtively pulls a camera out of his pocket.
We get the curtain rods up his levi's & out the holes near the front pockets, Carl stands on the arm of the couch again, He sets forth. He makes one step & looses his balance, However, with the rods up his trouser legs he can't put his feet out to stop the fall. The guy who owns the house realises Carl is going to land in the middle of the coffee table. Halfway to the floor, the doorbell *rings* & everything goes into slo-mo. He heroically pulls the coffee table out of the way just in time & Carl plunges face first into a marble fireplace instead. The end of one curtain rod hits the end of the coal shovel in the fireplace. There is a lump of coal on the shovel. The lump of coal smashed the chandelier, the shovel went thru the speaker on the front of the television.
I'm on the floor CRYING with laughter. LMFAO

The Night He Lost His Virginity......

Carl arrives home with some Fen Rd slapper from Cambridge (No, it wasn't Eccles, LOL). He promptly heads off to his bedroom with said slapper. Carl has a brother, Ricky...... Ricky, Bob & I are downstairs watching TV. Ricky grabs his ghetto blaster & heads up the stairs. There's a bit of shouting & Ricky returns without the ghetto blaster. He keeps checking his watch. After 45 minutes he goes upstairs again & returns with the GB. He extracts a tape.
He then explains that the first time he went upstairs he'd openned the door to enquire if Carl & the gal would like a cuppa tea, On being told to bugger off he left the GB in the room, with *record* pressed....
He then returned 45 minutes later to get it before the tape clicked off alerting Carl & the gal....
Ricky puts the tape into the stereo & rewinds it. He presses *play*........
.....just as Carl & the gal enter the room....
No one says a word, there is much grunting issuing from the stereo.
Carl says *This is good, where'd ya get the porn tape?"
The gal realises whats going on & storms off. Carl ignores her departure.
Carl is really liking this *porno tape*.......

right up until the part where they started talking....

Her: "Did you cum?"
Carl: "Well, either that or I think I pissed myself"

I fell off the fucking couch I was laughing so hard, Bob has tears rolling down his face, Carl is beating the living snot outta his brother.
He never dated her again for some reason, altho me, Ricky & Bob all nailed her over the next few weeks. Gotta love those Fen Rd slappers