b3ta.com user kola
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» Child Labour

i still havn't worked this one out
i would have been about 12- 13, working a 18hr shift (8pm friday night till 2pm saturday afternoon) for 25£ paid in cash. but its not the money or the illigal hours which consern me.

about 15 equally young kids would go to a factory for this shift, bagging white sand, for model railways we were told, by hand into little plastic resealable bags.

if anyone can explain this, hartlebury trading estate around 8-9 years ago.id love to here it.
(Sat 18th Feb 2006, 14:17, More)

» Work Experience

fed to the lions
I was well chuffed to get work experience at the safari park, I could cycle to it from my house, and I brought some new work boots and everything. I was even happy mucking out (I could pretend the zebra was the stripy horse of my childhood I never got.)
I was mainly based in the large animal enclosure. Zebras, rhinos, giraffes - brilliant. A few days in I was asked if I wanted to visit the big cat’s enclosure. Best work experience ever.

So the man explains, the cats are still in there sleeping pens, we'll drop of the meat around the enclosure, then we'll get back in the jeep and they’ll let the cats out. Sounds good, so off we went, I didn’t even mind getting covered in the cold gloopy bloodyness that was getting all over my clothes. I start walking back to the jeep and he gives the signal to let the cats out. I sit in the car, just for him to shout, "whets that, they'll choke,” pointing at a big ripped bit of rubber of a car or something. So he’s shouting, get it quick. He doesn’t look like has joking, I ask “me?” he replies, “no your fucking fairy godmother get it and get in the jeep, you have time” so I do….

And he starts driving away giggling as soon as I’m holding the rubber thingy…

My pants were an interesting colour that day.
(Thu 10th May 2007, 20:51, More)

» Your first cigarette

Irresponsible parenting?
When I was a wee young kola, as many girls are, I was a pure daddy’s girl, I wanted to grow up to be just like him. (didn’t help my granddad regailled me with stories beginning “when I was a little girl…” leaving me a gender complex which arguable lasts to this day) and as many fathers do, my daddy smoked. Now cigarettes don’t taste nice, not to a four year olds pallet... at least that’s what my mother was banking on… and after a few attempts of trying to steal a puff. As subtly as a small child can master… my parent’s pretended to not see.

A clever trick I give you. I coughed and spat and I no longer wanted to smoke like daddy…

Fast-forward to some sort of celebratory event, a Christmas, or a paddy’s day or a new year, something of the sort. And the cigars come out. Again, as any self respecting inquisitive child would do… I wanted one.
Pleased with the success of their plan with the fags they repeated their tactics,
And I had a wee puff…

No coughing, no bad taste. I loved it.

Some weird looks were sent across the room with my dad in fits of hysterics, my mother trying to wrestle a cigar off me and myself quiet adamant that they said I could have one and I wasn’t giving it back
(Tue 25th Mar 2008, 17:05, More)

» Pet Stories

punk budgie
when i was a wee one, we had a budgie. He seemed quiet a happy budgie, we never locked his cage and he was free to fly around the house till his hearts content.

then my nan came to live with us, and she had an evil budgie which would attack our budgie. my nan was quiet evil too, and wouldnt let the budgie have free reign anymore.

the budgies had to stay in there cages, (opposit sides of the room as evil budgie would taunt nice budgie) unless the parentals were in, and nan was out.

unfortunately, nice budgie found this all too stressfull, and started plucking out his feathers.

and didn't stop.

he was left with just a mohawk of feathers left going from the top of his head to the bottom of his neck.
(Wed 13th Jun 2007, 0:59, More)

» I Drank Meths (pointless teenage things you did to shock)

your on drugs.
teenage, check. must have been 13-14,
pointless, check,
i'm not to sure if my aim was to shock or not, i really dont think i thought about it that much.

but holding a small piece of canabis resin under my classmate's legs and shouting 'your on drugs' is certainly classy nonsence.
(Tue 24th Jul 2007, 16:18, More)
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