Paper Lads......and Lasses

Did them all, mornings, evenings & Sundays at various times, paid for my away games.

In the school holidays I'd also do the Ashton Reporter too.

I was fit as fuck then, my round included the 4 blocks of 12 story flats off Richmond St, used to run up the stairs with a full bag.....I'd be lucky to walk down all those stairs now with a paper under my arm.
 
I used to have a paper round at Joes on Walmer Street and met the love of my life there,Karen,and I never got over her.
 
I did one for about a year when I was 13/14 but had to sack it off due to being lazy. I used to get some of the local kids to help me out and would buy them a mars bar or milkshake to say thanks.

One thing that I always remember is one winter’s morning I pushed a paper through a letterbox and the door opened.
I was going to walk in to make sure all was ok then I suddenly remembered that paperboy that was murdered after stumbling across a burglary so instead I ran off.
 
If only Kiplings knew the secrets them woods used to hold...lol...I'm from Benchill rd originally...Remember when we used to go and watch the city team training at Wythy Park.
We had a trench system by the brook on Heybrook Rd with stockpiles of duckers just in case Benchill kids attempted an invasion. Haveley Hey chippy on a Friday night was an essential bike ride.
I used to talk with Big Dave Ewing when city were training, great guy.
 
Had a girlfriend whose Dad was a Sunday paper distributor. If I wanted to see her on a Saturday night, it had to include adding Sunday supplements to the papers!

To all those people around Ashton who didn’t always get a Sunday supplement around 1980, my apologies for your loss, but my thanks for the sex education!
Why did the houses with the most/biggest papers full of supplements always have the smallest letterboxes?

Used to really piss me off pulling a paper apart to get it through the door.
 
Had a Monday-Saturday then a Sunday round for a few years after in my teens. Around Scunthorpe tho.

A milf used to occasionally come to the door in her dressing gown and collect it, once got some tit slip in when it came apart. Fond memories.
 

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