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... so help me God.
help
I promise to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth...
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My stint in a paper perforating shop ended when I was sacked for being a tearaway.
Min you, not as bad as being sacked from that brass band for blowing my own trumpet.
I had to quick as a sheep castrator because... well, it was just bollocks.
Ahem... I mean, I had to quit as a sheep castrator because... well, it was just bollocks.
After my unsuccessful stint at the fairground I became a seamstress, but someone stitched me up.
My last job as a Cartesian philosopher was going well, but my boss started thinking less of it until it no longer existed.
Before that, I sold turkeys until my company was gobbled up.
Before that, I was a navigator for Nocturne Airlines. It didn't last long since it was such a fly-by-night operation.
Many years ago I used to work for a magician, but he disappeared.
Before that (I've done a lot in my 87 years on this planet, among others) I was a tester for Viagra. The job grew on me, but eventually my workload plummeted.
My first job was with a maritime salvage company - I even bought shares in the company - but I left when they were delisted. sorry!
I used to think I had my career all mapped out when I trained as a cartographer, but that, too, folded.
I was a video editor, but I just couldn't cut it.
I used to work for King Midas, until I was given the golden handshake.
I used to work at Mornington Crescent, but they told me my job was on the line.
I used to write crosswords, but as it turned out I was clueless.
I fully understand, Tina. I used to bury myself in the cryptics, but - being an alien - I was interred.
Then again, I used to be a director of an orange juice company - I was squeezed out.
The job before that was with a laundrette mob, but they hung me out to dry.
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