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There is a special part of Hell I'd like to reserve for those arses that order every single Sunday paper. Do you know how heavy that makes the bundle of papers some poor kid (ie me) has to lug around? Funny how your papers always seemed to get mangled in your letterbox...
I loved my paper round, but, looking back, I was getting paid peanuts to ruin my back and cycle around in the cold and dark. How were you exploited as a child?
( , Fri 17 Feb 2006, 12:05)
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My first job was working at St. James' Park on match days serving food to the prawn sandwich brigade that had just bought their season tickets to look fashionable. The fans were wankers, the people I worked with were wankers and they cunts refused to pay me because they didn't take my bank details properly. I walked out on my third day after arguing with a customer and only returned to throw my uniform at them and inform them of my bank details. They paid me shortly after.
( , Fri 17 Feb 2006, 20:24, Reply)
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