A Quote by Joe Calzaghe

When I was 17, my mum made me work in a cake factory for three days - I hated it. — © Joe Calzaghe
When I was 17, my mum made me work in a cake factory for three days - I hated it.
I'd prefer to cook for friends at home than go to a restaurant. My mum is a feeder and I get it from her - I know when I visit her there will be three different types of home-made cake waiting for me.
I tried to bake a cake for my mother's birthday - it took me four hours. It was terrible, and I cried for three days.
I had such a horrible childhood. My father was already married with three children when I was born and my mother didn't know. So we grew up poor. We had no hot water until I was 17. I went to work in a factory, and worked and saved for months until I had the money to come to England.
My mum taught me to work hard. I was born when she was only 17 and she brought me up on her own.
My mum grew up in Oldham and was going to work at a cigarette factory till she decided to go to drama school, so there's part of me that wants to represent the Northern working-class background.
In five days, you can turn the page on policies that put greed and irresponsibility on Wall Street before the hard work and sacrifice of folks on Main Street. In five days, you can choose policies that invest in our middle class, and create new jobs, and grow this economy, so that everyone has a chance to succeed, not just the CEO, but the secretary and janitor, not just the factory owner, but the men and women on the factory floor.
My mum died when I was 14. That is a kind of strange age to lose a mother. John lost his mum when he was 17.
Don't ask me about Beverly Hills High School. Everybody hated it. I hated it. Hated it. Hated it. Hated it.
I hated going to the mall, I hated shopping, I hated pool parties. It was just the little things that made me realize, like, maybe I am a little different than everyone.
I did have a problem concentrating on anything for more than 10 seconds. I was one of the first kids in the U.K. to go on Ritalin, and my mum hated it, and I hated it.
My father was brought to this country as an infant. He lost his mother as a teenager. He grew up in poverty.Although he graduated at the top of his high school class, he had no money for college. And he was set to work in a factory but, at the last minute, a kind person in the Trenton area arranged for him to receive a $50 scholarship and that was enough in those days for him to pay the tuition at a local college and buy one used suit. And that made the difference between his working in a factory and going to college.
I'm not saying I don't enjoy the days that I'm not eating chocolate cake. But I do particularly like those days when I am eating chocolate cake.
I grew up with a single mum, an immigrant mum who couldn't speak the language, no money, three kids on her back, coming from Rwanda, and she's done a sterling job with all three of us.
When we first started Fear factory, we asked ourselves what Fear Factory means, it was a cool name, but what did it mean? We obviously embraced the technological side of a factory, as a factory can be anything from something that insights fear, like a government machine, to something of futuristic technology, or it could be religion. So we embraced the technological side of it back in the early days.
I made a chocolate cake with white chocolate. Then I took it to a potluck. I stood in line for some cake. They said, "Do you want white cake or chocolate cake?" I said, "yes."
The 20th anniversary of my dad David's death coincided with my 50th Test cap and for it to be my mum Janet's birthday, too, made it an emotional few days. It was not an easy week, being the Pink Test and my mum having had breast cancer twice.
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