Poodle Parlour
15/7/98-17/7/98
15 July 1998 - POODLE PARLOUR
Working in a poodle parlour is hard work, but never less than rewarding. One customer brought in a poodle that was so overgrown it looked like a giant cotton wool ball.
As I trimmed away at the fluff, it became clear there was no hound at the the centre, just a rotting ham roll. The fur was actually extreme mould. The customer was so embarrassed by this - though blamed her husband - she gave me a can of lager for my troubles. Unfortunately, I used it to get drunk on the job, and was sacked.
17 July 1998 - POODLE PARLOUR
I've been sacked from my job in the poodle parlour for tying a dozen or so poodles to my skateboard, and getting them to pull me down the road. Apparently there's a "No treating poodles like huskies" clause in my contract.
It's a real shame, as I had a lot of affection for those dogs; little Fluffs, Mikey-Boy with the big tail, Hemstrel The Bruiser, Coil, Prune, Taylor III, Gub and Snot. I had the last laugh, though: I told the police that my ex-employer had stolen my car.
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