I was changing my oil in a hurry once and managed to drain my transmission oil instead of my engine oil. The only thing I can think of was that I had a flashback to my previous car, a VW Bug and the trans. drain looked like the VW oil drain.

Then, I went on a 200 mile trip. I wondered what that whine was at mile 150. Luckily it was only $200 for another salvage trans.

 

91, didnt you think it weird when your oil was full before you added any fluid?

 

The rad in my 75 duster has a couple holes in it so I took it out, drained it and soldered up the holes. Put it back in and filled up the system and was pretty impressed with myself that there were no leaks. I was 17 at the time so I just had to take it for a test drive and of course I had to stomp on it as I left and I hear a clang/bang, dingle, dingle, dingle. I left a large file on the rad support; it fell off, hit the fan and punctured the rad beyond repair.

Doing an oil change on my GF's car, everything went fine until I was backing out of the shop, I forgot the drain pan under the car and drove over it while a co-workers daughter stood there laughing instead of saying something was wrong.

Driving a new (01 E350) carpet cleaning van to a job and there was inclement weather of some sort and I ran out of windshield wiper fluid on the way. Customer isn't there but is on his way, so I figure (because I don't have wiper fluid) that I will just fill it from the cleaning unit with the service hose. I start the truck (for the PTO) and turn on the unit to pump the water, take off the cap and proceed to fill the reservior. After a few seconds the engine starts to make a funny noise and steam starts coming out the filler tube. I've never moved so fast as I did to shut the engine off that day. The oil filler and windhield reservoir are right next to each other and look pretty much identical except for the symbol on the cap and I wasn't paying attention. Needless to say that took a bit of explaining.

My roommate was changing the oil in his LTD with the help of the mechanic at the carpet cleaning joint. So they pull the plug and only get about a cup of oil or so. They check the dipstick and it is reading at the at the ADD mark, so it's about 1/2 liter low. While scratching their heads they start to put oil in the engine, still curious, they check the oil level and sure enough after about a 1/2 liter it is coming up to the top of the full mark. I wasn't there and someone, about a week later, informed them of the second plug on the second sump that they didn't drain. I wonder how long I could have let them go on before I would have told them about it.

 

The weeknd before last I changed oil on wifes new minivan, when i finished I went in, changed clothes, got the keys, went to back the car out of the garage. There was a 4 quart puddle of fresh oil on the floor, and plug sittin on the tool chest.

Last weekend, I'm building a small shed on the back of the house over the basement stair and cellar door. I propped a ladder against the house to set the ridge beam. It worked perfect, I start nailing on rafters, when I got about half the rafters nailed up is when I notice I used the second instead of the top rung.

 

Well, that was 15 years ago and I really don't remember what I was or wasn't thinking. Unfortunately, I was not under any mind-altering substances. It was purely my own stupidity. (I was young. I'll claim that excuse!)

 

It wasnt my garage but my buddies. we were changing the drive cogs on his old '72 arctic cat cheeta and goin some carb work at the same time.

So... there is two cycle gas all over the belly pan, in the engine bay, and he decides to torch out one of the drive shaft bearings cuz it aint moving, and we "there was about 5 of us" just stand there and start handing him the striker, the torch, the gloves, all of a sudden there is a Cheeta on fire in the garage, were all yelling at him, he can't hear us over the torch and the blaring radio, so we start dumping our beers on a gas fire, real smart, then as the firey pool is heading towards the floor drain I had enough brains to grab the fire extiguiser. needless to say everyone blamed me, the fireman, but hey, I still managed to put it out, thats my job, not preventing fires.

the garage is still there, and the Cheeta still runs, they just now have a good story to go with each other.


Diesel Rod

 

I still can't believe WhiteBlazze's picture -

I bet the guy was welding in a gas tank, too!

 

Ohh yea. that reminded me.

Same garage, same guy, we both learned that you CAN torch three feet from a dripping gas tank and not have it blow up. we were young, dumb, and.....

knowing what I know now, I realy don't know how we didnt blow out the garage door. I'd never try that again.


Diesel Rod

 

This just happened two days ago. I was re-tightening some battery cables in my tool box (see my article on AC Power Box for an explanation) when I *again* touched metal to opposing poles of a couple batteries. Beyond the normal George Lucas Light and Magic Show, I happened to contact the wrench to my wedding ring, putting a 1 cm abrasion in it, and giving myself a small second-degree burn where the finger touched the ring.

I have GOT to learn to be more careful. I think I also have got to find some boots for my battery terminals...

 

That's a "SAAB" story!?

and the number one stupid thing done in garages....
Starts with these words: " sure, I can help you out/ do that"

 

Here's one for you. I had pulled the trans on my '69 Barracuda to have it rebuilt. While it was out, figured I'd have the flywheel resurfaced before installing the new pilot bushing, throwout bearing, pressure plate & clutch disc. Get the trans back and painted it the Chrysler blue to match the engine. On goes the flywheel, pressure plate, clutch disc & throwout bearing. Get the trans back in place, bolt it all in, hook up the linkage, re-attach the driveshaft and fill the trans with fluid. As I'm rolling out from under the car on my creeper (yes, I did all this on a floor creeper with the car on jackstands), I notice this small plastic bag with the word MoPar on it. Yup, the pilot bushing! So, I'm sure you can all guess what happens next. After a few choice words, under the car I go to remove EVERYTHING so I can put the bushing in the flywheel and then put it all back together.

 

two separate incidents...one was at work, the guy who hauled loads for us used to load his own truck once in a while. He was always in a hurry, so when he was driving the forklift (8000# cap) back into the shop, he didn't notice, through the plastic heat saver strips, that the door was closed, even though it was still dark outside and he couldn't see the 600 watt halogen lights shining from inside the shop. He hit a sixteen foot tall by twelve foot wide door and took the whole thing off it's tracks. It shook the whole shop when it landed. This is in a building that is 120 feet by 300 feet, and filled with pallets of concrete block. We ended up stacking pallets of block in front of the door to close the door off, since it was the Wednesday before Thanksgiving and the garage door company couldn't get there until Monday. Hung a HUGE blue plastic tarp in the openeing and held it there with the pallets of block.

the other was using an old pre-OSHA sand bucket on a forklift. It slid onto the forks, so it could be easily removed when not needed. The major problem was, it also tried to slip off the forks if it was tripped and dumped. I was on the floor and figured I'd help the operator get it re-latched. I grabbed the side of the bucket when he set it on the floor and began to back up to get it to roll backewards onto the lock. I didn't expect him to just drop it full speed, and when it hit the floor and latched, my left thumb was in between the bucket and the frame....in a gap about 1/4" wide. Now, if I had just told him to trip the bucket and lift it, I probably would have gotten away with a split thumb, but I jerked my hand back...broke my thumb crossways, and lengthwways, plus blew the muscle right out of my thumb. I walked over to my supervisor and told him I thought I had broken my thumb. I was wearing gloves and there was no blood. He asked to see it, and when I peeled the glove off we could see the bone about half the length of my thumb. He asked me if I wanted to go to the doctor. It took the ER doc a half hour to stretch the skin I had left far enough to suture it. The payback was when he pinched his index finger off at the base of his fingernail a couple of years later.. I got to take him to the clinic.

 

I had a car that the starter jammed on. A friend pushed it into the drive way with his truck. We got out and hand pushed it into the garage in the pouring down almost freezing rain. I thanked him got out my tools and slid under the car to remove the starter. When I went to slide back out, I found I'd frozen to the concrete floor, this was in Iowa.
Couldn't get out of my jacket either My friends wife felt sorry for me and told him to go back and get me so I could have dinner with them. If she hadn't of, I could have spent the weekend under the car.

 

Wow, some of those are unbelieveable. I haven't done anything too bad...yet!

Once my dad and I were working on the exhaust on my pickup. The pipes were supposed to go straight out the back, but one of them wasn't straight. My dad tells me to grab him the torch, and I proceed to do so. He gets the pipe about half heated, then quickly shuts the torch off. He says to me, "Did you know there was a gas tank right there!?" I said, "Yes, It doesn't leak...I don't think." He gives me a funny look then proceeds to torch the pipe the rest of the way. Thank god the tank did not have a leak in it, or I'd no longer have my ford.

Another time when I was little my dad was working on the carb of our old Olds Cutlass. He'd do a little work, then have me start it, rev the motor a bit, then shut it off, then he'd tweak it some more. Well on one of the tweaking moments I leaned over the steering wheel to see what my dad was doing, and all of a sudden HOOOOOOOONK! I had leaned a bit too far forward and nailed the horn! Needless to say, my dad was a bit suprised, nailed his head on the hood, and then continued on to chew my @$$.

This last one was with my dad and my uncle, when they were in college. They had decided to change the oil on my dads old Pontiac. So, they pull it in the garage, pull the plug, replace the filter, and continue on to top off the oil. At that time, my uncle had done enough oil changes to know that that motor held exactly 5 quarts of oil, so he never checked the dipstick. My dad started the car and pulled it a ways down the driveway. My uncle took off running after my dad, yelling at him to shut the car down. Turns out when my dad pulled the car out, my uncle saw the drain plug sitting on the ground beside the oil drain pan. The car did run for 5 or 6 thousand miles before the motor blew though.

 

after, thats hillarious. i can just see that too.