OT: Take this job and ... Exploring the world's absolute wor
OT: Take this job and ... Exploring the world's absolute wor
From the Globe and Mail today :
Take this job and ... Exploring the world's absolute worst careers
Excerpt:
"The answer: Really, really bad."
The No. 1 "worst job in science" the editors gave to the "flatus odour judge" -- actually two of them who work for a Minneapolis gastroenterologist researcher and spend their days inhaling "episodes of flatulence" from 16 research subjects who are fed quantities of beans.
Full article here:
http://www.globeandmail.com/servlet/Art ... is+Country
So whistlers what was your worst job ever!
MarkB
Take this job and ... Exploring the world's absolute worst careers
Excerpt:
"The answer: Really, really bad."
The No. 1 "worst job in science" the editors gave to the "flatus odour judge" -- actually two of them who work for a Minneapolis gastroenterologist researcher and spend their days inhaling "episodes of flatulence" from 16 research subjects who are fed quantities of beans.
Full article here:
http://www.globeandmail.com/servlet/Art ... is+Country
So whistlers what was your worst job ever!
MarkB
Everybody has a photographic memory. Some just don't have film.
- markv
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I worked in a tire processing "plant"
It was a big, poorly ventilated metal building that had five very large shredders and a couple ovens\furnases. You spent the whole day lugging truck tires onto a conveyer belt and rolling them into a shredder. From there the tiny bits-o-tire got thrown into the ovens to bake off whatever was on the tire and condition them somehow. After a day at work you reeked of burning tire and were covered in tiny bits of shredded rubber from head to foot except for where the mask was on your face. Occasionaly you would get some tires in from the southwest that had scorpions or tarantulas. Fun huh?
After working there during high school for a month I said I could do anything I wanted to for the rest of my life because I had already been to hell.
Mark V.
It was a big, poorly ventilated metal building that had five very large shredders and a couple ovens\furnases. You spent the whole day lugging truck tires onto a conveyer belt and rolling them into a shredder. From there the tiny bits-o-tire got thrown into the ovens to bake off whatever was on the tire and condition them somehow. After a day at work you reeked of burning tire and were covered in tiny bits of shredded rubber from head to foot except for where the mask was on your face. Occasionaly you would get some tires in from the southwest that had scorpions or tarantulas. Fun huh?
After working there during high school for a month I said I could do anything I wanted to for the rest of my life because I had already been to hell.
Mark V.
Fairy tales are more than true: not because
they tell us that dragons exist, but because
they tell us that dragons can be beaten.
G. K. Chesterton
they tell us that dragons exist, but because
they tell us that dragons can be beaten.
G. K. Chesterton
- antstastegood
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I dunno if this was all that bad, but I used to work in a winery. We would go into 40,000 gallon concrete square tanks via a ladder from above, with an airhose pumping hot summer air in at the top of the tank to keep us from suffocating from the gases let off by fermenting winegrape residue (skins and seeds). We had to shovel about 4 feet of the stuff (called pomace) into an auger with a trough than was shoved in a side door at the bottom. The gas burned our noses, especially from the red wine grapes, white was less so) and we just shoveled and shoveled for 12 hour shifts. The big tanks, 65,000 gallons took four men about six hours to empty.
I had lied about my age to get the job and had the satisfaction of seeing many "grown" men quit because the work was so hard. I was so sore each morning after that I had to pry my fingers open cause they were stuck in the shape of the shovel handle. I was so beat up that I refused to work on Sunday, and told my employers that I had to go to church (which was a lie). So they decided to try and force me to quit. They moved me outside to a concrete slab, where dump trucks emptied the same stuff we had been digging (it had come from other wineries). Then I had to shovel it into a larger auger and had the "shame" of tourist groups coming by and lookin' at me working like a slave in the sun.
But I wouldn't quit. They finally let me take occasional dumptruck loads of that same stuff than had gone through the distillery (they cooked white lightning out of the residue) and over to a waste pond. I had a couple of other jobs there and by the end of the "crush" (the harvest/process season for wine) they offered me a permanent job. I went to India instead with the money I had earned.
But I was making $8.65 an hour in 1973 so it seemed like fat city. But my rubber boots were always swirling with fruit flies and my Dad, who had loaned me one of his cars, was a bit peeved about my unwanted passengers.
I had lied about my age to get the job and had the satisfaction of seeing many "grown" men quit because the work was so hard. I was so sore each morning after that I had to pry my fingers open cause they were stuck in the shape of the shovel handle. I was so beat up that I refused to work on Sunday, and told my employers that I had to go to church (which was a lie). So they decided to try and force me to quit. They moved me outside to a concrete slab, where dump trucks emptied the same stuff we had been digging (it had come from other wineries). Then I had to shovel it into a larger auger and had the "shame" of tourist groups coming by and lookin' at me working like a slave in the sun.
But I wouldn't quit. They finally let me take occasional dumptruck loads of that same stuff than had gone through the distillery (they cooked white lightning out of the residue) and over to a waste pond. I had a couple of other jobs there and by the end of the "crush" (the harvest/process season for wine) they offered me a permanent job. I went to India instead with the money I had earned.
But I was making $8.65 an hour in 1973 so it seemed like fat city. But my rubber boots were always swirling with fruit flies and my Dad, who had loaned me one of his cars, was a bit peeved about my unwanted passengers.
- OutOfBreath
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Re: OT: Take this job and ... Exploring the world's absolute
My wife would probably say she has that job now...MarkB wrote:From the Globe and Mail today :
The No. 1 "worst job in science" the editors gave to the "flatus odour judge" -- actually two of them who work for a Minneapolis gastroenterologist researcher and spend their days inhaling "episodes of flatulence" from 16 research subjects who are fed quantities of beans.
MarkB
John
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Oh, yeah: also a mod here, not a spammer. A matter of opinion, perhaps. - Location: Lefse country
Well, come on. We're talking Minneapolis, after all, right? And wine-tasting has become so.....tired.The No. 1 "worst job in science" the editors gave to the "flatus odour judge" -- actually two of them who work for a Minneapolis gastroenterologist researcher and spend their days inhaling "episodes of flatulence" from 16 research subjects who are fed quantities of beans.
My sneaking suspicion is that a "worst job" in this case is all in the eye -er, nose- of the beholder: let us recall the example of the rumored shoe salesman and his, um, predilections. Ew.
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- Nanohedron
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Oh, yeah: also a mod here, not a spammer. A matter of opinion, perhaps. - Location: Lefse country
Turkeys aren't so bad. Pity the poor guy who has to collect from a bullNanohedron wrote:I have a very active imagination, and I must say that even I am brought up short. I think it's best that way.The Weekenders wrote:My brother claims that there is such a thing as collecting "material" from tom turkeys for artificial insemination. That would be up there.
My worst job? I worked in a billboard-poster printing outfit when I was in college, silkscreen printing sheets for billboards. The solvent used is pretty strong smelling, and marked "use only in a well-ventilated place". So we worked in an open warehouse with big fans forcing (barely) enough air through. In Phoenix. In the summer. And no air conditioning. Hot, smelly, the solvent burns any skin it gets on, and god help you if it gets in your eyes or other sensitive areas.
By comparison, bucking hay in the summer sun or mucking out barns didn't seem all that bad.
- Steven
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Oh, I dunno. Can you think of a better way to get on a bull's good side and make him like you? (Sorry, I really shouldn't have gone there, but DCrom started it!)DCrom wrote:Turkeys aren't so bad. Pity the poor guy who has to collect from a bull
As for worst jobs, I spent the summer when I was 16 bussing tables at Shoney's. Nothing my parents ever said to me could have been nearly as strong an incentive to get an education. Nothing against Shoney's (well, not much anyway), but that was just nasty, horrible, disgusting work for which you got paid next to nothing, all while getting to feel like you were really at the very bottom of the pile. I swore I'd never do anything like that again, and I haven't.
Steven
- SteveK
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My brother sent me several pictures in an email entitled Quit Complaining About Your Job. In one of the pictures a woman was standing behind an elephant with a large plastic bag collecting elephant poop as it was falling from the elephant. I'm wondering if that was her full time job. Maybe she was an artist collecting stuff for her newest installation.
Steve
Steve
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Oh, yeah: also a mod here, not a spammer. A matter of opinion, perhaps. - Location: Lefse country
We have that one on the wall at the wash bay in the shop. You gotta love her body language!SteveK wrote:My brother sent me several pictures in an email entitled Quit Complaining About Your Job. In one of the pictures a woman was standing behind an elephant with a large plastic bag collecting elephant poop as it was falling from the elephant. I'm wondering if that was her full time job. Maybe she was an artist collecting stuff for her newest installation.
Steve