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  • On the fabled labouring job I did for Fiddy, I dug the foundations for a conservatory. Heaped the spoil up in the garden as instructed, the builder was going to get someone to clear it.

    The folks who turned up, seemed to be a couple, and her mum (or they were siblings, or both statements are true), in a knackered transit, with no tools. They borrowed my shovel and went door to door picking up the rolls of orange plastic recycling bags. They got about two shovel fulls into each bag and carted them between them into the back of the van.

    The builder handed them a wad of cash and they fucked off. Only for a neighbour to come up and say they had got around the corner and just turfed all the bags out onto the pavement. Builder rang them and they just said their van was sounding funny and they'd be back. They did not come back.

    I had to then use a knackered wheel barrow to bring it all back up Gipsy Hill to the skip the builder then forked out for. I could have done that in the first place and only had to shift it 30 yards, on the flat.

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