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Jobs.....

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Jobs.....

chickenman 21 Replies 1,961 Views
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chickenman

chickenman

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We all got to work to live...
My 1st job after HIGH school was baggin groceries, then I hired on at United Airlines in San Fran. where I worked for 19 years, could write a book about the shit we did.
Started out as a parts cleaner at the largest maintainace facility overhauling dc 10s, 747s dc 8s 272s. Kind of fun at first, father started with company in 1948 and was a supervisor.
Worked with all kinds of folk, black, all of the Latins, Asian the whole spectrum.
Very few days went without smoking weed on the job, well over 90% of the days at least a couple of dubes were huffed.
After a few years of working hard for a promotion I figured out I was going no where and basicly fucked the dog and sold the pups. Take a simple job and turn it into a major production...If you did good they told you to slow down..
Our job was polishing sheet metal with high speed buffer that was dirty and noisy. The mechanics would get pissed at us from the smell and since they were higher on the chain we had to wait for the right time to run the buffer so there was lots of time to fuck off.
Also did a lot of cleaning for inspections every where on planes that were totally taken apart.
We would steal tugs and other vehicles and have demolition derbys, or just cruise around and get baked.
Met a friend 2nd day at work and were still good friends. Both of us got fired, long story.
Was fired at least 6 times, 3 times got full back pay after union intervention.
They paid for 2 30 day rehabs, lots of travel, lots of free on the job cocktails, and we were paid well with good benefits.
Why we fucked around so much I do not know. most were dilligent employees who never violated the rules yes sir and all that.
we really never did anything to jepordize the safety of the airplane or passengers, except the time I threw up in a full fare passengers lap in 1st class drunk as a skunk, another story for later...
Lots more.to tell another post...... What's your story on Jobs????
 
Mowed yards, worked in a dry cleaners, pizza delivery, roofing, construction, machine sales, field service manager, sales manager, international sales manager, owned a manufacturing/fab shop, owned a machine shop, owned a machine service company, owned a car shop, owned a hydro store, owned a MIP bakery and grow op, farmer, contract grower....alot of mileage in 40 years..lol
 
Haven't had a job in almost a decade and a half. Been self-employed for most of my adult life. Wouldn't have it any other way.

That being said, I always loved every job I ever had. I have never been fired. I even enjoyed working at Wendy's. :)
 
my first job was selling night crawlers when i was maybe like 10-12. made decent money for a kid that age actually. then mowing lawns n yardwork. few factory jobs that weren't for me. now i own a small welding and machine shop, couldn't be happier.
 
First couple were warshing dishes. Then pulling weeds/yardwork. Really loved beign down in the dirt. Then started construction labor. So yardwork and labor to start. First legit 9-5 was a high end retail nursery. Yardcrew. My big bro starred shortly before myself. We fell in love with the work. Learned alot from long time nursery workers and herb growers. We started doing landscape jobs on the side. I went out on my own after a few years to provide custom landscape service. In fact some of my work still stands in seattle. Beign in the right place lent me to work for some very wealthy people up there.Now my career path has gone to shit. Spinning wrenches on military equipment for the fed government. When the wife goes to work here in a few years ill be back to growing full time and doing small landscape jobs.
 
I started my working life in Food Service. Including a hitch in the USAF in Medical Food Service. By the time I got out of AF the motorcycle bug had bitten. Got a job in a Honda/HD dealership. They sent me to HD Factory School. :cool: After that I drove a truck & worked industrial scrap metals, yes VERY HEAVY lifting/work. Plant maintenance and from there hoist & crane repair. About 10 year ago SS disabled due to diabetic neuropathy in hand & feet.:depressed: Now a days I take care of my ladies & ride my motorcycle when I can.
 
US Navy was my first job. Worked 16hr days sometimes 7 days a week for $342 every 2 weeks. Worked at my uncles plumbing company. Then worked as a pipe welder at a shipyard. Now I'm self employed trying to make ends meet.
 
I volunteered for the Army but they wouldn't take me- due to poor eyesight. I have worked a wildly varied laundry list of gigs, from helicopter a&p to restaurant management to outside sales. Growing is my passion and anytime I'm not doing it, I'm depressed. It's the most challenging and exciting thing I've ever done, and the better I get, the more I feel like someday soon I'll be able to make some real contribution to the art. Nothing would please me more than that.
 
I volunteered for the Army but they wouldn't take me- due to poor eyesight. I have worked a wildly varied laundry list of gigs, from helicopter a&p to restaurant management to outside sales. Growing is my passion and anytime I'm not doing it, I'm depressed. It's the most challenging and exciting thing I've ever done, and the better I get, the more I feel like someday soon I'll be able to make some real contribution to the art. Nothing would please me more than that.

I hear you man, working with this plant and being able to connect with it on some sort
of spiritual level is very fulfilling. It satisfies me on a primal level that is hard to replace.
 
I now have the best job in the world. it's not really work when your passionate about what you do.
My dream was always to get away from city, grow some food, maybe become a farmer.
I never would have dreamed I would be where I'am now.
My friend of 40 years is visiting and his mind is blown at what's going on.
It has been 12 years since we took the chance to abandon the city to the country not knowing what we would do, never planned on farming.
kind of winged it, still am, just following my heart. learned a lot and now farm is starting to show a little profit which is reinvested in farm fuck paying taxes to the man.....
Had jobs I hated but hung in there knowing someday I would find what I was searching for.
Dreams come true if you believe in them and yourself you just have to get off your ass and work, be honest and follow your heart....
Better get out and DO IT!!!
 
worked on a farm of and on since the age of 12 to 21 then went self employed for bout four yrs got a baby got me a job in the chicken plant cutting they heads off but wud rather grow every day of my life it gives me a sense of peace its sum to do different to them every day watching fm a seed to a big girl with fat dank buds ain't no other job seem better .
 
my first job was selling night crawlers when i was maybe like 10-12. made decent money for a kid that age actually. then mowing lawns n yardwork. few factory jobs that weren't for me. now i own a small welding and machine shop, couldn't be happier.
I love worms, night crawlers especially
 
(Warning: this post contains descriptions of lunacy and adult situations)

My Job history? "Volume One"

Well, I started my long journey of employment as a professional bus passenger. Just riding the bus all over. Before heading off to work my Dad would say, "Son, where you off too next?" and I would say "Shut up old man." Because I was an a-hole back then.

I loved that job but eventually I had to move on. It just didn't pay enough. Or at all. Plus I was tired of the bus drivers trying to recruit me into their cult.

I next found myself working as an apprentice cock-ring maker. And no, it's not what you are thinking at all you dirty minded person you...I didn't make fashionable jewelry for male chickens, no, these were rings that were made to be worn on the penis to extend an erection.

My master, or in this case mistress, was a harsh one indeed. She played classic rock endlessly and yammered on and on about her experiences in the 60's. Stories about massive orgies, acid trips at Woodstock and secret underground bunkers. Horribly boring stuff. It was all I could do not to fall asleep at my cock-ring station.

It was several months into this ordeal before my deliverance presented itself in the form of Adam West. Mr. West entered the shop on a sunny July morning demanding the order he had made two weeks previous be delivered immediately. First I, and then my mistress, tried to explain to him that it took a great deal of time to craft one thousand purple leather cock-rings but he just wouldn't listen. Eventually he threw his hands up and screamed that if he didn't receive his order by the end of the day he would put a hit out on both of us with the Sicilian mob, or La Cosa Nostra, and he stormed out.

We discussed our predicament for a while before arriving at the only conclusion that seemed to make any sense.

We had to murder Adam West.

Of course a few hours later we came down from the Mescaline and decided to just hire a bunch of Mexicans to finish the job. So there we were...a hippie chick/master cock-ring maker, her young apprentice, and twenty fresh-off-the-truck Mexican immigrants hastily crafting hundreds of leather erection extenders when......the INS stormed into the shop!

Guns were blazing, tear gas was spewing and the next thing I knew I was waking up in a little town called El Diablo Pollo, Mexico.

I had a couple of jobs down ole Mexico way but I think I will leave that to another post. :)
 
My job history? "Volume Two"

Oh down in the west Sonoran town of El Diablo Pollo, I fell in love with a Mexican girl. Night time would find me in Pedo's cantina, music would play and Selina would whirl.

Blacker than night where the nipples of Selina, wicked and evil while casting a spell. My love was deep for this Mexican maiden; I was in love but in vain I could tell.

One night a wild young federali came in, wild as the West Sonoran wind. Mustachioed and daring, a drink he was sharing, with wicked Selina the girl that I loved.

So in drunken anger I

Challenged his right for the love of this maiden, down went his hand to the gun that he wore. My challenge was answered after about twenty minutes or so of me waiting, just standing there eyeing him until eventually....the mustachioed young stranger lay dead on the floor.

Just for a moment I stood there in silence, shocked by the wicked awesome deed I had done. Many thoughts raced through my mind as I stood there, I had but one chance and that chance was to run.

Out through the back door of Pedro's I ran, out where the Puma's were tied. I caught a good one, it looked like it could run. Up on it's back and away I did ride

Just as far as I

Could from the West Sonoran town of El Diablo Pollo, out to the badlands of San Diego. Back in El Diablo Pollo my life would be worthless. Everything's gone in life, nothing is left. It's been so long since I've seen the young maiden, my love is stronger than my fear of death.

I saddled up my Puma and away I did go, riding alone in the dark. Maybe tomorrow a bullet may find me, tonight nothing's worse than this pain in my loins.

And at last here I

Am on the trailer park overlooking El Diablo Pollo, I can see Pedro's cantina below. My love is strong and it pushes me onward down from the trailer park to Selina I go.

Off to my right I see five mounted Federalis, off to my left a dozen or more. Shouting and shooting I can't let them catch me. I have to make it to Pedro's back door.

Something is wrong, for I feel a deep burning pain in my side. Though I am trying to stay in the saddle, I'm getting weary, unable to ride.

But my love for

Selina is strong and I rise where I've fallen, though I am weary I can't stop to rest. I see a bright flash and smoke from the assault rifle, I feel the bullet go deep in my chest.

From out of nowhere Selina has found me, kissing my check as she kneels by my side. Cradled by two loving arms that I'd die for, one little kiss and Selina...goodbye.


Then later I got up, dusted myself off and headed to Mexico city where I became a pizza delivery boy. I rode my Puma at break-neck pace through the streets and alleys of the city delivering pizzas in record time. The people began to call me El Loco Bicho Raro, not sure what that meant....probably "Super-Awesome Pizza Delivery Guy".

This all came to an end one day when I delivered a pizza to a large and beautiful villa on the outskirts of Mexico city. Just as I rang the door bell the Mexican army suddenly attacked! It was then that I realized I had been delivering a pizza to the cartel!

Guns were blazing, tear gas was spewing and then next thing I knew I was waking up in London, England for some reason.

I had a couple jobs in jolly ol England but I think I will leave that to another post. :woot:
 
Sounds more like a trip you never returned from .......how could i ever compete with that story ..... purple cock rings huh , peculiar read to say the least .....
 
First job was for my father,working for his roofing co.I was making 3.50 hr,in 1972 that was good $,then I delivered paper but most people didn't pay me the $ they owed,so I didn't get to far with that.I did do a lot of work at allied signal and smoked on site as well as all day long,was doing construction all over the valley(1990's).We would have a lot of f***k off days,fishing,stores etc,go and hide as I was told to do,I just added some grass to the equation. :))))
 
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