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)
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WhitewashOn holiday from school and enjoying waking up at the crack of 11 each day my Dad decided it was time for me to get a job. All be it the unpaid jop of painting the back of our 3 story house.
I was given a pot of paint, some ladders (with no one to hold them) and a paint brush, which could only be described as a bit thin on top.
As I started to paint I realised that it isn't so easy to paint roughcast. You don't paint it so much as poke paint at it.
3 weeks later bloody knuckled and covered in paint (which I think he stole from the council, while they where painting the white lines) I was 75% through the first coat.
Thankfully I managed to get a job, which paid money leaving the house painting unfinished.
I returned from my first day of work to find my Dad had bought a massive roughcast paint roller and used it to complete in 1 day, what I couldn't in 3 weeks with the airfix paint set he'd given me.
I think it was his version of wax on wax off but with poisonous paint instead of polish.
(, Wed 22 Feb 2006, 9:56, Reply)
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