The title bestowed to the first person back to their table after lunch break. There was no crown, and the King of the Tables had no special powers apart from being allowed to sharpen the communal crayons on the teacher’s special windy-handled desk mounted sharpener.
Wayne Hales would generally win, not through athleticism, but through brute force. He would swing and maul his way to the title, then set about daintily sharpening crayons for us for the rest of the lesson.
Wayne Hales would generally win, not through athleticism, but through brute force. He would swing and maul his way to the title, then set about daintily sharpening crayons for us for the rest of the lesson.
When we were at primary school, all the toilets were made by Armitage Shanks - and their name was printed with pride at the top of each urinal.
Whilst having a piss, it was imperative that you touched the "k" in "Shanks" making you The King. Of, er, going to the toilet.
However, if there was more than one person in the toilet, you could lean over to someone else's urinal and press the "g" in "Armitage" because that meant that, far from being King of doing a wee-wee, the user was gay. And you would shout 'GAYYY' just to drive the message home.
This is one of those pastimes I wouldn't really recommend continuing into adulthood.
Whilst having a piss, it was imperative that you touched the "k" in "Shanks" making you The King. Of, er, going to the toilet.
However, if there was more than one person in the toilet, you could lean over to someone else's urinal and press the "g" in "Armitage" because that meant that, far from being King of doing a wee-wee, the user was gay. And you would shout 'GAYYY' just to drive the message home.
This is one of those pastimes I wouldn't really recommend continuing into adulthood.
Yet another game with no obvious intention or worth beyond providing further means to elevate yourself a whisker above your peers. The game operated only within a small social circle and involved asking a friend a question you already knew the answer to. At the game's most base level, for example, you may ask "is this a banana?" while clearly holding a banana in front of the proposed kippering victim. If he replied with a straight answer to the question then he had been "kippered", and the correct response of the kipperer was to adopt a dramatically pained expression and look away while exhaling heavily, usually following up with the phrase "ooh, kippered him a treat". If the proposed victim spotted the kipper coming, saying "You're alright, mate" would block the kipper. The game died a natural death after a couple of months when no conversation could occur among my friends without a dozen kippering attempts and everyone was constantly on their guard to the point of replying to any spoken word with "You're alright, mate". I'm ashamed to say that me and my friends were in our Upper Sixth when this game evolved from christ-knows-where.
Running around, imagining that you know what an erection is, and hoping to touch a girl's gusset peach. Had you managed it, you would have been sick.
The flap of material in the back of your blazer, right next to your arse. The 'kiss flap' was used by gaylords and homos when they wanted to do something to your bottom.
Barry Symonds was thrown out of maths for telling our teacher about kiss flaps.
Barry Symonds was thrown out of maths for telling our teacher about kiss flaps.
The somewhat bitter despatch of a payslip to that teacher who told you you'd get "nowhere in life studying art and drama" (Mr Welsh.. kiss my bank balance). Highlighter pen allows clear demonstration that you pay more tax in a month than he takes home over two.
Extreme version of kiss chase played at my primary school. Boys would chase the girls, as usual. Upon capture, however, the victim would be offered one of three eqully attractive options: a quick dribbly snog, a slightly less quick grope under the vest, or a much longer grope in the Victoria Plum gusset region. Answering 'nothing' was deemed to be a shy request for torture. I was a very fast runner and never got caught. I was forced to develop a limp.
"Oh, Neil!" - a cry of anguish from an exasperated maths teacher directed at her most infuriating pupil...
...and a cue for the entire class to drop to their knees.
...and a cue for the entire class to drop to their knees.
The act of creeping up behind someone in the the playground, then repeatedly kneeing them up the arse while chirpily singing the famous cockney ditty. Joyous in its simplicity.
An old dictionary definition for knickers, was short trousers worn by footballers, and by women as underclothes. This dates back to the time when knickers was short for knickerbockers, you see. It was quite acceptable at one stage in British history for men to say "let's put our knickers on and have a knockabout".
Anyway, the girl discovering this definition would ask the boys if they played football. Of course we did - we were boys. So she replies "you wear knickers", to which we, in turn, would say "don't be stupid".
Anyway, the girl discovering this definition would ask the boys if they played football. Of course we did - we were boys. So she replies "you wear knickers", to which we, in turn, would say "don't be stupid".
Joke that you can use to ridicule Jehova's Witnesses. "Knock knock / Who's There? / It's your mum and dad....". See also Christmas.
A book in our religious education class was written by David Konstant, and John Cumming. It was written by Christians, and it was called "Beginnings". We were never made to read the book, but I have the grim feeling that it may have been disappointing. If you don't believe me, look here.
Completely random careers advising computer programme. Kind of similar to CASCAiD, really. I was once advised to become a book binder, and my brother a ballet dancer.
The corridor cleaning machines with circular furry discs on the underside.
This name must be unique to my school. As a group of us were engaged in some light vandalism of the sixth form common room, the head caretaker walked in and caught us.
Angry, but not having enough respect or guts to challenge us directly, he said "stop that, or I'll go and get Mike Webber". The idea of our Deputy Head, Mr Webber, having an informal first name didn't register, so there was a moment of confusion before someone asked "what's a kwebber?"
The only thing that made sense was that he was offering to tidy up our mess with his massive sandy-wheeled machine. So on we carried.
This name must be unique to my school. As a group of us were engaged in some light vandalism of the sixth form common room, the head caretaker walked in and caught us.
Angry, but not having enough respect or guts to challenge us directly, he said "stop that, or I'll go and get Mike Webber". The idea of our Deputy Head, Mr Webber, having an informal first name didn't register, so there was a moment of confusion before someone asked "what's a kwebber?"
The only thing that made sense was that he was offering to tidy up our mess with his massive sandy-wheeled machine. So on we carried.