which is the tree, the one on the left??
Huh?
What a first post… :guns: :guns:
“first post”
under thursdays username
Think Kev established that labouring for blocklayers is simple and a pre requisite to being a club footballer. Have you been telling lies about your feats on the field of West Limerick?
We never used tiles but loading out a roof with slate wasnt exactly a stroll in the park either. Will never forget my first walk up the ladder with a bundle of 20 up on my shoulder. Prob 15 and as weak as piss. Suffice to say the bundle of slate didnt reach the roof and I was lucky I didnt follow it. The reduction to 15 a bundle made things easier 
Clohamon Pikeman, was it?
Apart from plenty of hard labour in our garden growing up and my garden here (re-landscaping the front at the moment), I spent a summer painting houses in Boston, lugging 50 and 36 foot ladders around the place. Hard going with the heat and humidity there, but good craic. I once had to sit on a garage roof holding the base of a 36 foot ladder while one of the American gimps in my crew (he was the lightest) painted the top of a gable end of a house we couldn’t access by ladder from the ground. Huge houses in Chestnut Hill and Brookline, $60 - $70k to paint them.
Meself and a lad from Derry put in 250 metres of kerbs at the Reebock stadium at 3 quid a kerb in a day and then went straight to a nightshift jacking a motorway bridge while it got maintained,dragging all the gear up and down ladders and lumping it around scaffolding in 4ft high space,back breaking 24hrs.
Slept a full day after but the pie and mash at the end of the week made up for broken spine.
I’m basing my theory on you being a bull shitter on a host of other issues, noit this one. Rinitin has never given the impression he’s full of it, in fact quite the opposite.
So you’d be better off finding someone better to back up your case.
Thats real McAlpine’s Fusiliers stuff Manus, fair play.
Ye Donegal lads are different breed alright when it comes to working.
Aye, cunt of a place.
Kind of the same with myself. Mainly office work but spent a bit of time in the States labouring. I was labouring for two brothers from Meath who were in turn under another Irish bloke, can’t remember where he was from. We had a Mexican too doing the shite donkey work that I didn’t want to do (my donkey work was far more important). Some dose, we were framing houses, some of the hardest work ever I did. Work started at 7 so I had to get up around 5:30 to catch 2 buses to get there. Then horse into the work till break time (10:30), 15 min break, work till lunch for a half hour then 1:30 all the way through to 5 bells, no break. 2 buses again home, scran then off to bed for around 8 bells. Did that for a month till I got my cushy job back as a painter. Was I glad I finished up with that crew, the fookin welts on my hands after all the hammering, most of the time going after the Meath boys who had a nail gun but didn’t drive them through properly. Christ when I think of it now…
1 Like
I’d be completely the opposite, i hated the painting, loved the framing. Great satisfaction in the framing seeing your part of the house go up.
I’d say it was the travelling thats making that memory the worst Locke, not so much the work, maybe?
It was in San Francisco and I had to make a change in Castro… it scarred me for life :o
I want to hear more from Frannies Sister
Worked for a few months for a neighbour doing attic and garage conversions. Carrying plaster boards up the stairs was a pain in the back. Did part time bar work for 3 years at the start of the decade in Engerland, that was hard but fun and a great way to meet the burds. Think I had a go on most of the nice looking customers by the time I finished there. The accent helped as well.
The fact that you consider bar work manual labour is kinda scary.
Bars are great for birds alright.
The most prolonged period was when I laid new sewer lines in south Chicago one Summer. I heard they all failed the pressure test afterwards when the city came out to inspect them and yer man had to dig em up, the boss (a 20 stone yank of German ancestry) had a gun in his glove box for “shootin’ niggers”. Great times.
it is when you are dragging crates of bottles up and down the stairs when you are stocking up and the fact that you are on your feet all bleedin night.
As for the burds, yeah working in a bar is savage for getting the burds, funnily enough I never did any of the staff working in the bar. Must have learned my lesson by that stage.
Another plus to working in a bar is that you get into every other bar or nightclub for free, well I did where I was in England. Ah I miss those days.
more in what way??
You’d probably like it if i sat on your knee and told you some little story wud ya.