I once worked in a lingerie factory as a lace-cutter. Was a contender for bestest crappy job ever. My day essentially consisted of being stood behind a bloody great cutting machine and painstakingly lining up layers of lace so they're all cut uniformly (fiddly as fuckery fuck) I spent a good 70% of the time in precisely the position mocked in the above comedy stylings. Top of the machine was just at (stooped) head height and was also big enough that I was quite hard to see. The women working there used to give me a nudge at break/lunch time and never once queried why I appeared to be unconscious from the moment I got in to just after lunch (used to nip down the road to me dealer's place and get a coupla rocks for lunch). I actually had to resign in the end cos they didn't want to sack me despite having produce perhaps a dozen pairs of French knickers and a small batch of oversized bras in the two or three months I was there.

) once I started working and the Housing Benefit stopped. Blagged it for a coupla months but had to leave in a hurry. I'd already missed loads of days at work so was expecting tha sack anyway but when I went in after a week's absence (without phoning in or owt) and spoke to the supervisor, explained the situation and he really wanted me to stay on. Offered me time off to get treatment and a new place to live too. Would've taken 'em up on it (well, the time off bit not the treatment) but was unpaid. Actually, really should've taken 'em up on it anyway. Very few bosses let you get away with shit like that.