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Post by chuffedstokie on Nov 22, 2019 22:45:55 GMT
Do they still exist. I had one delivering the local daily evening rag called 'The Comet', a useless thing but folk seemed to like it. School would end and the papers were waiting for me at home. Every Friday was pick up the money day, take out what it owed me then bag the rest up for collection. Handy little earner. Never had a morning round, too busy walking the dog!.
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Post by Pretty Little Boother on Nov 22, 2019 23:51:59 GMT
On more than one occasion, the kid who delivered our paper walked down the side of our house, laid out the middle page of the paper on the ground, and curled out a massive steaming log on it before fucking off.
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Post by yeokel on Nov 22, 2019 23:54:59 GMT
On more than one occasion, the kid who delivered our paper walked down the side of our house, laid out the middle page of the paper on the ground, and curled out a massive steaming log on it before fucking off. Daily Mirror was it? It sounds as if he was about right  |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 23, 2019 0:59:16 GMT
I never has a paper round, but I did spend time making a bob or two here and there. Supermarkets used to close at 6pm - a great time for "shelf filling". I did quite a bit of that. During the summer, fruit picking. I quite enjoyed the picking, I would have my radio with me and listened to the test match to releaviate the boredom. My most profitable job was when I was between "O" and "A" levels - that must have been nearly an eight week break. The chicken factory. We were picked up by a bus at 6am and taken to the factory. 15,000 chickens a day were processed. Terrible job in very bad conditions, but the money was good. All of the chickens were hung up, electric shock stunned, then killed with a spike through their heads. They then went through a tank of water, and through another machine that removed the feathers. My job was to pull out the three or so feathers that remained on each wing. No elf and safety, hot and steamy, dangerous also. But after it all I bought a HiFi record player and a 15 gear racing bike.
On the first day at the factory, I asked my mate what his job was. He just said " I just fold the wings, and stick their feet up their arses"
I had a few weekend jobs on farms. The farmers and their families really were nice people. At 1pm I would eat dinner with the family. Listen to The Archers, and then back out to work. The thing was that you always reached a point where you realised that there simply was only just so much shit that you can shovel.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 23, 2019 6:12:28 GMT
Used to love my paper round.... on my way from blurton to trentham rd paper shop during the dark winter mornings the heamheath pit shift siren used to let me know whether I was on time or not depending on which part of the route I'd reached
Remember dreaming one day I would live in one of those big houses on barlaston old rd
I was right ... i was fucking dreaming
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Post by felonious on Nov 23, 2019 7:48:25 GMT
On more than one occasion, the kid who delivered our paper walked down the side of our house, laid out the middle page of the paper on the ground, and curled out a massive steaming log on it before fucking off. Daily Mirror was it? It sounds as if he was about right He said massive log so The Grauniad. |
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Post by felonious on Nov 23, 2019 7:49:57 GMT
Do they still exist. I had one delivering the local daily evening rag called 'The Comet', a useless thing but folk seemed to like it. School would end and the papers were waiting for me at home. Every Friday was pick up the money day, take out what it owed me then bag the rest up for collection. Handy little earner. Never had a morning round, too busy walking the dog!. I opened this thread thinking you'd be moaning about having the toughest paper round Chuffed  |
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Post by bathstoke on Nov 23, 2019 9:05:33 GMT
I had a job as a potato picker one summer & saved all the money to buy a solid gold watch.
$#!t I fancied myself in that watch. Anyway, year or two later me & my mates were on our way back from the Lichfield Bower & stopped off in Rugeley for a cheeky underage drink & ended up in a fight with a load of beermonsters.
Lost the watch in the fight🙁
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Post by chuffedstokie on Nov 23, 2019 9:49:22 GMT
Another little money earner was pulling beetroot at the local farm. Bloody hard back breaking work. You were paid for each filled hessian bag. Boredom soon set in and regular beet throwing competitions started. In order to maximise profits heavy rocks were discreetly hidden in the sacks for the weigh in. If memory serves correct only my brother and his mate were the only ones who ever got caught. Shame that. 🙂
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Post by yeokel on Nov 23, 2019 9:52:11 GMT
I never has a paper round, but I did spend time making a bob or two here and there. Supermarkets used to close at 6pm - a great time for "shelf filling". I did quite a bit of that. During the summer, fruit picking. I quite enjoyed the picking, I would have my radio with me and listened to the test match to releaviate the boredom. My most profitable job was when I was between "O" and "A" levels - that must have been nearly an eight week break. The chicken factory. We were picked up by a bus at 6am and taken to the factory. 15,000 chickens a day were processed. Terrible job in very bad conditions, but the money was good. All of the chickens were hung up, electric shock stunned, then killed with a spike through their heads. They then went through a tank of water, and through another machine that removed the feathers. My job was to pull out the three or so feathers that remained on each wing. No elf and safety, hot and steamy, dangerous also. But after it all I bought a HiFi record player and a 15 gear racing bike. On the first day at the factory, I asked my mate what his job was. He just said " I just fold the wings, and stick their feet up their arses" I had a few weekend jobs on farms. The farmers and their families really were nice people. At 1pm I would eat dinner with the family. Listen to The Archers, and then back out to work. The thing was that you always reached a point where you realised that there simply was only just so much shit that you can shovel.
Talking of which, I haven’t noticed Momo on the site for a couple of days  |
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Post by bathstoke on Nov 23, 2019 10:00:07 GMT
Another little money earner was pulling beetroot at the local farm. Bloody hard back breaking work. You were paid for each filled hessian bag. Boredom soon set in and regular beet throwing competitions started. In order to maximise profits heavy rocks were discreetly hidden in the sacks for the weigh in. If memory serves correct only my brother and his mate were the only ones who ever got caught. Shame that. 🙂 & We wonder why farmers prefer to employ Eastern European’s🥬🥔🥦🥕 |
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Post by chuffedstokie on Nov 23, 2019 10:46:50 GMT
Another little money earner was pulling beetroot at the local farm. Bloody hard back breaking work. You were paid for each filled hessian bag. Boredom soon set in and regular beet throwing competitions started. In order to maximise profits heavy rocks were discreetly hidden in the sacks for the weigh in. If memory serves correct only my brother and his mate were the only ones who ever got caught. Shame that. 🙂 & We wonder why farmers prefer to employ Eastern European’s🥬🥔🥦🥕 We were only 14! what you put yourself through to earn an honest bob. Or in my brother's case.... |
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Post by JoeinOz on Nov 23, 2019 10:55:08 GMT
I still remember the little poem I did on my card when i went collect Christmas tips
Hail rain sleet or snow
On my journey I must go
Wearing out my shoes and socks
Don't forget my Christmas box
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Post by Davef on Nov 23, 2019 11:10:40 GMT
I still remember the little poem I did on my card when i went collect Christmas tips Hail rain sleet or snow On my journey I must go Wearing out my shoes and socks Don't forget my Christmas box That was on everybody's card.  |
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Post by Deleted on Nov 23, 2019 11:31:17 GMT
I used to “deliver” the Advertiser, which entailed dumping hundreds of copies of papers and leaflets at the Marl Hole in Sandyford before going home to play on my Commodore 64 and ordering a Chinese takeaway with my wages.....
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Post by lawrieleslie on Nov 23, 2019 13:01:34 GMT
Used to deliver papers for Matt Dillon on Wolstanton High Street morning and evening plus Sundays. Round was Peel St, Wellington St, Russell St, Nelson St, Palmerston St, Grovesnor Place and Knutton Road. Easy round until the last two streets which had drive way. Inconsiderate bastuurds. Then got a job as butchers boy at Dewhursts in Hanley. I doubled my wages even after taking off my bus fare costs from Wolstanton. Used to cycle in the spring/summer. I was offered butchers apprenticeship by Dewhursts when I left school but joined Navy instead.
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Post by lawrieleslie on Nov 23, 2019 13:07:36 GMT
I still remember the little poem I did on my card when i went collect Christmas tips Hail rain sleet or snow On my journey I must go Wearing out my shoes and socks Don't forget my Christmas box Had similar card Joe. Remember one year knocking on an old dears door. She opened it and I said, showing her my card "merry Christmas I’m your paperboy", at which she took the card saying "thank you very much" and closed the door  |
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Post by JoeinOz on Nov 23, 2019 13:37:30 GMT
I still remember the little poem I did on my card when i went collect Christmas tips Hail rain sleet or snow On my journey I must go Wearing out my shoes and socks Don't forget my Christmas box That was on everybody's card. But especially mine!😂 |
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Post by bathstoke on Nov 23, 2019 13:51:06 GMT
& We wonder why farmers prefer to employ Eastern European’s🥬🥔🥦🥕 We were only 14! what you put yourself through to earn an honest bob. Or in my brother's case.... Brilliant. That reminds me of when me & my mate went on our bikes from Wolstanton into Bradwell & got stopped by a load of punks & I said,”Leave me alone, I’m only 12!” |
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Post by ilfracoombestokie3 on Nov 23, 2019 13:55:19 GMT
Used to deliver papers for Matt Dillon on Wolstanton High Street morning and evening plus Sundays. Round was Peel St, Wellington St, Russell St, Nelson St, Palmerston St, Grovesnor Place and Knutton Road. Easy round until the last two streets which had drive way. Inconsiderate bastuurds. Then got a job as butchers boy at Dewhursts in Hanley. I doubled my wages even after taking off my bus fare costs from Wolstanton. Used to cycle in the spring/summer. I was offered butchers apprenticeship by Dewhursts when I left school but joined Navy instead.So you liked your meat delivered a bit differently then? |
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Post by harryburrows on Nov 23, 2019 22:08:50 GMT
Loved my paper round , got a chance to read Parade and Health & efficiency as well , 😜
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Post by AlliG on Nov 23, 2019 22:11:04 GMT
Had a paper round from Lewis's paper shop on the corner of Dunrobin Street in Dresden that went along Lightwood Road and then up Chaplin Road along Lennox Road, Hamilton Road, Buccleugh Road, Argyll Road and Furnace Road. I ought to apologise to all my customers who used to get 2nd hand papers in the morning as I must have been the best read paper boy in Longton. (I probably read the Times, Telegraph, Guardian, Mail, Express, Mirror & Sun every day.) The Times used to be a bit of a challenges when it was windy! When it was wet used to take advantage of those houses with a porch! Even now all that 70s news comes in really useful in my pub quiz team. Mornings and Sentinels in the evening, 6 days a week and Sunday mornings for £1.50 a week. Brought my first racing bike with my earnings. |
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Post by cooper67 on Nov 23, 2019 23:09:21 GMT
Worked for Barry Gane in Bucknall. My run was all down the Abbey. Lovely times.
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Post by Dutchpeter on Nov 24, 2019 3:18:36 GMT
Used to deliver papers for Matt Dillon on Wolstanton High Street morning and evening plus Sundays. Round was Peel St, Wellington St, Russell St, Nelson St, Palmerston St, Grovesnor Place and Knutton Road. Easy round until the last two streets which had drive way. Inconsiderate bastuurds. Then got a job as butchers boy at Dewhursts in Hanley. I doubled my wages even after taking off my bus fare costs from Wolstanton. Used to cycle in the spring/summer. I was offered butchers apprenticeship by Dewhursts when I left school but joined Navy instead.So you liked your meat delivered a bit differently then? I don’t believe Lawrie was on HMS Torbay 🤔 |
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Post by Boothen on Nov 24, 2019 6:59:33 GMT
Used to deliver papers for Nut's shop on Campbell Rd. Plus, growing up in the shadow of the Vic., we used to make a bit of extra money on match days 'minding cars' for people who parked in the surrounding streets. Never did any minding though, as how could we when we were at the match? |
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Post by Billybigbollox on Nov 24, 2019 10:42:12 GMT
I had a job as a potato picker one summer & saved all the money to buy a solid gold watch. $#!t I fancied myself in that watch. Anyway, year or two later me & my mates were on our way back from the Lichfield Bower & stopped off in Rugeley for a cheeky underage drink & ended up in a fight with a load of beermonsters. Lost the watch in the fight🙁 Sill keeps good time n’all Bath. 😁 |
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Post by swampmongrel on Nov 24, 2019 21:37:20 GMT
This board reminds me more and more of that old Hovis ad.
🍞
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Post by Deleted on Nov 25, 2019 1:03:53 GMT
This board reminds me more and more of that old Hovis ad. 🍞 The very definition of being couth, as opposed to uncouth is being able to listen to the New World Symphony, by Dvorak, without thinking about Hovis. Also, listening to the William Tell Overture, by Rossini, without thinking about the Lone Ranger.
swampmongrel, this place is a seat of learning and culture.
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Post by Deleted on Nov 25, 2019 3:54:06 GMT
I still remember the little poem I did on my card when i went collect Christmas tips Hail rain sleet or snow On my journey I must go Wearing out my shoes and socks Don't forget my Christmas box I remember reading that exact poem and leaving an extra large christmas bonus for the paper boy, thinking "oh poor lad, I'll give him an extra large tip because he's clearly a flaming queer". You're welcome. |
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Post by CalgaryPotter on Nov 25, 2019 6:34:50 GMT
One bag morning & night, two bags on Sunday’s (5 quid a week).
Saturday’s delivered papers & drove the milk cart for an extra tenner.
Martin the milkman was about 30 and had to stop at a couple of houses every week while I covered for him. 😄
Train fare from Blythe & entry to the ground sorted!
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