A tentative stage of feline sex that catshaggers often dispense with. During the early stages of sexual awakening, you may want to simply try fingering a cat, rather than sticking your whole cock in.

To play cat in a bag, you will need a cat, and two bags.
Double up the bags, and make holes in them for the cat's legs and head. When you have forced the doubtlessly reluctant cat into the bag, and wrestled it's little paws into the holes, quickly grab the handles of the bag and swing the cat around.
The cat will be held in place using the same magic that keeps water in swung buckets.
Some notes on cat in a bag;

1. As with all such games, scream the name of the game while you do it. Just as a bundy isn't a bundy without screaming bundy, cat in a bag requires a manic child to be screaming CAT IN A BAAAAG! as he runs through the playground.
2. Doubling up the bags will go some way to preventing a ripped bag, which will cause the cat to fly into your friend's mouth, and he'll go boss-eyed and make a comical "gulp" sound with a tail hanging out of his mouth.
3. You MUST swing the cat. Otherwise it will escape, and probably land on your face, and do a sick on you. To ensure absolute safety from re-purr-cussions, you might like to end the game by simply letting go of the bag.

Here are some more Catch 22s - from now on, all new ones will be put in this entry.
SPACKERS SAY NO
Q : Did you watch Spackers Say No last night?
A : No...
Q : Spackers Say No!
Saying yes is a blatantly false claim to have watched a programme that obviously wasn't on last night. Who are you trying to kid, spacker?

What you have to write if you suggest, during a House Debate, that you are having sexual relations with the Pope.

You should also mention in your letters that you now appreciate that the word 'git' is not appropriate for such a forum, even if it was used to describe Mussolini.

The circular whirring pads that can be found on industrial floor-buffers.
Any of Catriona's diseases can be passed on by contact with one of these pads.
You were immune from these diseases as long as your contact with the pad was limited to wanging it at someone else.

The noble art of cat shagging can result in two very different responses. For instance, in our school, it wasn't all that bad; Wayne Radford was a catshagger, yes. But no-one minded. However...

Pronounced Kay-vee. Used when getting up to mischevious caper at school. Somebody stands Cave and if a teacher comes along whispers Cave to alert the mischevious caper doers to the presence of authority. From the Latin for danger.

A real-life black man who hangs around in shopping centres offering ten dollars to smell children's feet. Children, although tempted, will generally decline from a mixture of fear and mistrust.

Cedric was our GSCE English teacher. I always thought this nickname was just childish alliteration, but the real reason soon became apparent.
During his lessons we would occasionally hear a long hissing noise, as he slowly but surely pissed himself.
He wore a catheter bag, which might explain why his pissing hissed, to be honest I never put my hand up and asked "sir, why does it make a hissing sound when you stand in front of class and piss yourself?"
Occasionally... this bag would develop a leak. And because he wore the same trousers everyday, a succession of dry salty tidemarks would develop around the crotch.
It is with a sense of shame - the man was incredibly nice - that I remember the whole class roaring with laughter. Cedric thinking it was due to his excellent depiction of Malvolio in Twelfth Night. Us, because the more we laughed, the more it encouraged him to prance about and the bigger his wet patch would grow.
(I have checked this entry out with the author, and he swears blind that it is all true. And that's good enough for me. - Log)

Take a little plastic syringe from the science labs, hack up a load of flem, and put it in the syringe. Then slam the syringe down on the table as hard as you could, plunger first, causing the flem to rocket up and stick to the ceiling. It will then slowly drip down for the next hour, in long gloopy strands. Best done over someone else's desk.

A normal paper aeroplane, but with the names of over 200 celebrities written all over it. Primitive attempts to colour-code the celebrities were made (Bill Beaumont and Emlyn Hughes, being sportspeople, were brown) but didn't last. Aged 13, we did have a premature understanding of which celebrities had comedy potential. For instance, Bella Emberg made it onto the plane, as did Dustin Gee. Les Dennis didn't, and neither did Terry Wogan. Standards were high. Finally, we decided that we didn't want to throw the plane, in case we didn't get it back. Eventually, I think we sent it to Zzap! 64, in an attempt to get a mention in their Reader's Pages. They also ran a "joystick in unusual places" competition, and I made my best mate Paul draw a picture of a Seedy Casino With Topless Croupiers. Paul's own twist on the Casino was that it was inhabited solely by Bernard Cribbinses, with tassles coming from their nipples. I took a photo of my joystick on the page, but - sadly - it didn't come out properly, and looked rubbish. I sent it anyway.

The alter-ego of a boy who suffered from an irritatingly real form of mental illness. Cha Man had no special powers. In fact, he was lacking many of the powers that ordinary people had. Such as anything you care to mention. Cha Man was - incredibly - tolerated by 200 other children, whose kindness was also their cruelty. See Cha-Copter.

Designed by master craftsman Paul Daft, the Cha-Copter was a gift to Cha-Man. It was no faster than the Cha-Mobile, and indeed, no higher. It merely required more movement on Cha-Man's part, and thus made him far more excited. Indulging this fantasy may well have prevented Cha Man's integration into society on a permanent basis, as he is still a mong. He works in the Arnold branch of Sainsbury's. Check for the enormous overbite.

How Cha Man gets from A to B. The Cha-Mobile involved Cha-Man running around with his hands in front of him (as though he was gripping a steering wheel, of course) and going "cheeyyaaaaa" at a continually rising pitch as he gained speed. He would 'change gear' when he ran out of breath, and start again.

The name of an unfortunate young man, whose parents must have been thinking in one of two ways;
- Let's distract everyone from the surname. Let's give him forenames so preposterously poncey that by the time people have got around to saying the surname, they'll already be punching him.
- Fuck it, we're Gays. We were born to be bullied, bring it the fuck on.

An odd game. Involved walking around the playground on the lines - those painted to represent the netball court, football pitch, etc. - without bumping into anyone else. If a bump occured the two bumpees must sing the chorus of Diana Ross' most joyous hit single.

Large cocks drawn on the seats of chairs so that it looked like you had your flaccid member nestling on the seat between your legs. Tipp-Ex was ideal for adding two or three drops of flying jism.

Not to be confused with a more sinister nob, drawn further back on the seat. If you sat on it this meant that you thought it was a real nob, and you had leapt onto it in the hope that you would get bummed by classroom furniture.

5th year Geography techer so named because we noticed that he used to itch his bits on the corner of his desk. So one lesson we covered all four corners with chalk - a different colour on each corner. By the end of the lesson it was like Joseph and his Amazing Technicolour Dream Trousers.

An unwise time to secretly scratch your balls is when wearing polyester / viscose mix trousers after using the blackboard. There is bound to be some chalk left on your fingers, and this will transfer directly to your crotch. So clear are the markings that pupils can distinguish a simple ball scratch to a pinching rearrangement of the penis.

"Can you lend me 50p?" could quite rightfully be answered with "What do you think it is, Charity Week?" Typically, denser characters took the insult to illogical conclusions. "What time is it?" "What do you think it is, Charity Week?"

Brett was our fun class scapegoat. Each break time we would playfully chase him across the playing fields until we caught him, whereupon a joyfully mild beating would be administered.
I thought of this as run-of-the-mill schoolboy horsefoolery, until my mate from another class furnished me with a more objective viewpoint. He had one of those teachers who would keep students back on any flimsy pretext, so his class often got to see our fun. He provided me with this description.

• The bell would ring. There would then be a gap of some 30 seconds, during which his entire class would stare out of the window.
• Like a panicked Gazelle, Palfrey would spring out from the buildings and beat a breakneck path across the playing fields.
• There would be a further gap of about 5 seconds, as an underfoot thunder gathered force.
• The doors burst open, and a screaming mess of boyhood (containing a significant number of the rugby team) throttled towards the fleeing Palfrey.
• Palfrey would be engulfed. His bag, ejected from the melee, would follow a graceful parabola before showering the ground with his books.
• The cloud would then disperse, cheerfully discussing the whimsical dusting-down that had just been meted out.
• A broken Palfrey forlornly picked up his books, put them back in his bag, and waited until he could get back to the comparative safety of the classroom.

Any thrill which causes adolescent excitement is a cheapy. You "get your cheapies" by becoming embarrassingly over-excited at any mention of sex, violence, snuff movies, girls pants etc.

Used pejoratively as a self-regulating disciplinary mechanism amongst groups of teenage boys:
"Eugh! Smiffy's getting his cheapies"

a real, exceptionally scummy street in birmingham where all prostitutes, including your mum, work.

Pinch a flap of skin on your cheek between thumb and middle finger, then use the index to make a fold in the resulting bulge. Hey presto, you have something vaguely resembling a bald vagina on your face.
This was demonstrated to me aged 8, when I had never seen a cunt, didn't know what the word meant, and had no idea whether a bald cunt was funnier than a hairy one. It was on the guy's cheek though, so I laughed anyway.

A post Joey Deacon, post-Scoper word. Unusually considerate in that it was designed not to insult the victim directly, as they wouldn't know what you were on about. Currently seems to be growing in use, but still only widely used in the Essex/London area as far as I know.