No stranger to the P45 FREE Sample
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- 420 reads
Fluffy bunnies and petrol bombs, some biscuits a tractor and a hedge
Much to the relief of my snobbish superiority complex, I wasn’t born in Frome where I’d go to school, have some rather crappy jobs and in a case of mistaken identity one evening be dragged out of
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- 550 reads
A silly poem about a rabbit
‘Twas midsummer’s morn and in a field, a little rabbit sat, thinking of his life, and other things like that. He thought of the clouds and of the fish in the sea,
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- 417 reads
Egg-cabbage socks, some wellies and a tree
For me, a nursery is not the most enjoyable of places to spend my time since not only do I not know one type of plant from another I also hate kids.
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- 597 reads
Hugely significant vocational unpleasantness
And so I got a job in a chicken factory...
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- 386 reads
Not-exactly what it says on the tin
Nineteen eighty-eight was such a long time ago that I don’t remember how I got the job working on the production line at the Cuprinol factory in Frome.
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- 490 reads
Look kid, there aint no Santa
It’s gonna be lonely this Christmas... Really, Elvis? Thanks for reminding me once again. Thank you very, very much.
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- 1246 reads
Psychopaths and a butterfly, and a nice cup of tea
It was something of a coincidence when a few years ago I was at a party in Bath and met the daughter of John and Anna Carter, founders of Carter’s Steam Fair in London where I once worked for a day
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- 360 reads
Keystone Cops, a whole bunch of oiks, and some chicken in a basket
One day I decided to join the navy. I’d figured that my life wasn’t really going anywhere (see Book) and that somehow military service... for Queen and Country and all that...
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- 563 reads
How hard can it be?
‘Three cups of tea and some jobs please!’ I asked with feigned enthusiasm, my head thick with the gunk of post alcohol excess. I tried a smile, hoping that it would help. It didn’t.
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- 395 reads