The only person that used a wheelchair in my school was Sarah Capper. In came to pass that the school built loads of ramps for her to use instead of stairs.
The biggest one (and the the best) was on the six form mobile. On an icy day you could get top skids down it. It became known as the Capper slide. And to this very day every time I see a ramp for the disabled I can't help thinking about laughing with my friends, sliding on my arse down a ramp made for someone who had lost the use of their legs. Children are bastards.

Verb. A strange madness that overtook primary school boys in the Aussie Rules playing states of Australia in the late 1980s. Warwick Capper was a professional Aussie Rules player who specialised in the kind of high-flying and dangerous mark (catch) that separates Aussie Rules from crap, girly immigrant sports like soccer that are rightfully banished from the grassy playing fields and onto the small concrete quadrangle near the bins.

The idea of “Cappering” was remarkably simple. One would spy a boy (girls were off-limits, unless Cappered by another girl, which was unlikely) standing in the playground and run up behind him, place ones hands on his shoulders and propel oneself upwards and forwards, jamming the knee into the spine. At the apex of the manoeuvre, one would scream out “CAPPER!” at the highest volume possible – mimicking the footy commentators who would do similar when the real Capper took a big mark – and try to maintain balance on top of the victims shoulders for as long as possible. Of course, you never could stay up for long so the best option was to try and use the victim as cushion when the inevitable fall came.

Needless to say, Cappers were deeply, deeply unpopular with teachers, probably because they combined potential spinal damage to kids and loud, startling noises into one single playground action. But as is the way, these things got out of hand. At the height of the Capper Madness (winter 1987) you couldn't walk into the playground without risking immediate an Cappering. People walked with their backs to walls. Boy A would come up with a big bag of lollies and offer you one. As you inspected the options, his mate, who had been sizing you up, would crash over your back, the inevitable cry of “Capper” on his lips.

The best Capper I ever saw was on a school excursion to the gallery by a mate of mine called Cameron who Cappered a kid so hard that the kid hit his head on the marble floor and Cameron was flung into a sculpture and broke it. It was like something from a Fellini movie –blood on the marble and art being smashed by colonial vandals. Brilliant days.

This originated in the first year of high school. When Tej tried to drink a Capri Sun behind his bag during registration, we squeezed the drink thus making him 'down it' all in one go.

From then on, anyone seen enjoying the said drink was subjected to the Capri Sun Challenge.

A rank of sadness attained by those who have ever said "actually, I'm a dark elf". Higher ranks can be attained by being good at chess or having a basin haircut.

During my very distant schoold days, to go to lunch we would cross the roundabout and use the canteen in the much larger secondary school and sixth form part of the school. On the way, we passed a number of cars, the alarms of which were sensitive to being kicked.

A group of several tens of children could easily conceal the kickers, and pretty soon the teaching staff found the best solution was to simply not accompany us, enabling them to sip gin in the staff room and ignoring the fact that almost two hundred children aged seven to nine were kicking the shit out of every car they passed on their way to lunch. We would stop when the alarm went off, so it was bad news for any cheapskate drivers who didn't have one.

My friends and I will never be the same again after seeing a porno aged about 13 in which some filthy woman used some sort of vice like tool to open her own fahita wide up, until it was some rancid mockery of a flesh grotto. At our age, we just wanted to see boobs. We certainly didn't need that.

Scabby Queen
This is basically the game Old Maid. The "scabby" element comes from the punishment for losing, which is a number of scrapes to the knuckles with the whole deck. The number and violence of the scrapes is determined by cutting the cards (red = soft taps, black = full-blooded whacks, value of card = number of hits).
Convincing a gullible child that any card they draw is worth 20 and concealing a credit card in the deck prior to administering the scrapes will ensure maximum bleeding. If you're a schoolkid with a credit card, that is.

Scrapes
A 2-player game that saves all that fucking around with Scabby Queen rules. Player One cuts. Player Two gives Player One the appropriate number of scrapes as hard as they fucking well can. Player Two cuts. Repeat until either player can�t take any more.
There are arguably no real winners in this game. However, if the player administering the scrapes drops the deck of cards, the other player is entitled to give them fifty-two scrapes. I only saw this happen once, but it resulted in a hand that looked like it had got stuck in a bacon slicer.

Someone thick, like Ricahrd Woods who at age 13 admitted to liking Care Bears. He also used to do forward rolls landing on the tarmac playground on his head. Uttered best with a Joey Deacon like "Belm"

The kids who play football for the school team and who practice after school take the mickey out of the kids who learn to play a musical instrument after school and are perhaps in the school band; it's true no matter where you go.
Of all the kids I knew at school there are absolutely none who make any money from playing football whilst there are at least three I know of who have gone on to at least make a living from playing music.
Now who're the losers?

feeling left out funny names crying here

Like Morrissey and Sade, this chromosome-laden girl was a constant source of mystery at school. Kept behind for a number of years, the six-foot tall behemoth lumbered around the playground stamping her foot and drooling. One way to pump up her wrath was to describe cruelty to hamsters, the one form of creature that she seemed to empathise with. Telling her that you had "raped a hamster until it popped" or had enjoyed "hamster pie for dinner" soon turned her into a raging fiend. There was a dark twist in the tale though, as after some nameless crime had been committed, and every bag in the class was searched, the soon-to-have-a-breakdown caretaker found a dead hamster in Carmel's bag. It was like seeing Jill Dando assasinate someone.

Only practical in common rooms with unfixed, Persian rug-style carpets. All the largest and most immature boys available (strange how the two overlap) would move all furniture onto the bare floor and sit in a row along the side, usually watching television from across the room - it was often a long wait for a victim. When one was eventually unwise enough to enter, the front row would lunge forward as they reached the centre of the carpet, pick up the edge and haul on it, sending the unfortunate surfer flying headlong, usually into the television. If the immediate aftermath was attended by a teacher, who reprimanded the Keanu-wannabe for abusing the facilities.. well, so much the better.

One gets the feeling that it might actually have been quite entertaining as an organised sport but the lack of imagination among the perpetrators, coupled with the fact that the original was so entertaining, stalled any further research into this area.

I got roofer or something like that. The cunts never told me I would end up in prison.

At the back of a particularly boring Maths class, David bet Stephen that he couldn't fit a 50p piece inside his foreskin.

Stephen, being piebald (suffering from vitiligo, turning from chocolate to white) and therefore desperate to be liked, rose to the challenge.

Rose to it with such passion that he managed to fit 4 coins down his foreskin, making his knob look rather mechanical.

At this point, I should point out that these were the old, proper 50p coins, not the small ones they brought out to confuse the elderly.

He then went on to spend the 50p coins at the tuck shop, still slimy and reeking of teenage smegma.

There was a brief fashion in the 3rd year to carve the initials of your loved one on the back of your hand with a compass.
The object of my adolescent 3 wanks a day coincidentally had the same initials as me, so when my (wanking) hand went septic, my apparent self-love was shown up in bright yellow pus for all the world to see.
25 years later you can just about make out
AS
4
AS

The online CASCAiD form with be back online momentarily.

This was developed by some group of genii in partial homage to the film "Fight Club"; the procedure went thus.

1. 10 to 20 to all the blokes in the year (excepting all the poofy ones who had girls for mates) would stand in a large circle (clothed, naturally.)
2. The members of the circle would throw whatever small change or trinkets they could muster into the centre of the ring. The amount of money (or cool stuff) would slowly pile up.
3. After some time, an enterprising and daring member of the circle would decide the amount in the pile was enough to offset the risk; he would get on the floor and try and grab it all.
4. And everyone would jump on him.
For the next thirty seconds the situation would degenerate into a writhing, screaming free-for-all, a mosh pit without the music or the kindness. If you were quick, you might make a profit of 10 to 20p every game, and only get your hand crushed a couple of times.

I really like this but I'm not sure if it's too mean to bring belmsford to the main site.

I agree with Phil. It's funny as fuck, but is it too nasty seeing as it's about Nick? Log, buck passed to you

Beleted!

If you find yourself having a mental meltdown, simply state that you are "going to the cash machine" to extricate yourself from the situation.

To some teachers, a good excuse for being half an hour late for a lesson. Trialled by Matthew Kelly (not the), this excuse was audacious enough to make most of the classroom laugh. The supply teacher took grave offence, and lectured the class on the merits of a career in percussion, and that artistic musical instincts should be encouraged, not mocked.
Dim. Bint.

Retarded Tig variant invented by me. The basic rules were originally the same with the following exceptions:

a. Den was known as "The Hole"
b. Person who was on known as "The Cat"
c. Tigging replaced with dragging the "Mouse" to the floor and beating them senseless

More and more convoluted rules were added as time went on including (imaginary) cheese turning "The Mice" into "Super Mice" who couldn't be tigged. This made the game basically unplayable being as everyone was in a continuous state of "Super Mouse".

The game came to its logical conclusion when I chased Heather James into a wall. She had stitches but was never less than decent about the whole thing.

A sock on a cats head is officially the most hilarious thing known to humanity, as the cat in question will automatically go into retarded-driver-reverse mode and shuffle slowly backwards, bumping into things and making odd growly noises. The fun is spoiled, naturally, when parents arrive.
Although this board condones no form of animal cruelty, cats are the excepton. They SO reckon they're IT.

This was done on a balance beam type log we had in the playground. You’d make your way to the high end of the log by “cat fighting”. Basically, scratching and lashing out at the person above you. If you fell off, you had to get to the back of the line. Winner was whoever was at the top when recess ended.

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.

Cunt. Nothing more to say.

One guy at our school Paul (I forget his second name) got bit by a cat when he was about 6 so he always hated cats after that. Anyway any chance he got to capture a cat he would. He would then bury it up to its neck in the dirt and attempt to kick its head off in one go. He nearly always did, the sick bastard!