Child LabourThere 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?
(
chthonic, Fri 17 Feb 2006, 12:05)
« Go Back
Ting, ting, tingMy parents bought a heap of a house many years ago and amongst the detritus left by the extensive ork needed to make it habitable was a huge pile (perhaps twelve tons) of used bricks. they could be used again to repair or extend the house, since they would match their former neighbours better than new ones or reclaimed bricks from elsewhere. Thus, it fell to me to reclaim them. This is done by chipping the old mortar off with a brick-hammer. if the brick is busted, it can be chopped into a halfbrick and used where it fits.
i say again, Twelve Tons.
Now this may sound like forced labour but when you get into a task as repetitive as that, you can just let your hands do the job and leave your mind free to do other things. So That's what i did. My mind went a-wandering while my hands got better and better at chipping bricks. After a pallet load, i knew exactly where to strike them so that the mortar just fell away like pot-roast meat off a bone. My mind grew agile, and my hands grew strong. Another twenty tons of bricks, i could've achieved Enlightenment ... that would've been woo indeed.
(, Mon 20 Feb 2006, 20:23, Reply)
« Go Back