15 times in 10 days...
My friend and I got sacked a total of 15 times in 10 days.

Daz and I needed to escape London due to the realisation that our party lifestyle was having a detrimental effect on our health and the fact that we owed about a thousand pounds to an ex-SAS amphetamine dealer (Mistake #1).

We found an ad in Southern Cross Magazine (an antipodean magazine advertising shit jobs and shitter flats to backpackers). This ad said we could travel up to Norfolk (Mistake #2) and work in the agricultural sector and get free accomodation and food. Sounded great.

So we wind up living in this run-down hostel with a bunch of illegal South-Africans (aren't they all?), working in carrot factories, cat-food canneries, and premade-sandwich packers. Luckily we had brought with us quite a little pharmacy, and were able to self-medicate the boredom out of the jobs.

Unfortunatly, when one takes certain drugs, one becomes quite silly, and the jobworths supervising us didn't take too kindly to the fact that we were throwing catfood, buggering old ladies with carrots (Mistake #3), and other such agriculture-related shennanigans. So they sacked us.

And then found new places for us to work.

And then sacked us again.

Ad nauseum.

So the last place they sent us to work, thinking in their small, Norfolk minds that we'd calm down and take our jobs seriously, was the warehouse of Hamelys, the largest toy store in Britain. Silly fuckers.

I got sacked for shooting the boss in the face with a doll launched from a catapult.

Daz got sacked for performing felatio on a cardboard cut-out of Princess Leah.

Yeah, so we left Norfolk, returned to London, and got back on the bandwagon that is Brixton on a Saturday Night.

Lovely stuff.
( Demonic Omelette, Fri 24 Feb 2006, 13:49, Reply)