Amusing extension of the nipple gripple that often got out of hand. On a quiet and rainy lunchtime one boy (usually school delinquant Oliver) would nipple cripple another boy until they gave up and agreed to join the patrol. They would then go and find another boy and nipple gripple him until he also "joined the patrol". This would go on until there was a stupidly large group of boys (often more than thirty) and new boys were becoming increasingly difficult to find. Girls were obviously taboo, because we thought their nipples might come off, and bottles of milk would fall out. We usually stopped when the group was so large that we actually made some poor youth's nipples bleed. Which invariably happened.
Desperate pleas that "nits only live in really clean hair" will never be believed. The nurse only told you that to make you feel better. In reality, you even revolted the nurse.
No one is quite sure what privileges are gained from membership of Nixon's Sex Club - but the way to join is simple. You just have to have had sex, with a girl.

Nixon's Sex Club has a pretty impressive membership roster, considering that Nixon - and everyone in his club - were eight years old.
The unfortunately named Noel Licence was born to be given stick. In the middle of any activity whatsoever, someone would stop him, and say "you've got Noel Licence to do that".
  • 1st Year : Good-natured laughing along.
  • 2nd Year : Laughter stopped, joke wearily acknowledged with eyes rolled.
  • 3rd Year : Signs of frustration started appearing, some sarcastic laughter.
  • 4th Year : Verbal retaliations favoured over faux-laughter.
  • 5th Year : Physical development finally allowed for frequent violent reactions.

It was the ever-changing reactions which kept the game going - that and the fact he was fat and useless.
During some extra-curricular activities in summer time, all primary school students were required to come to class wearing a T-shirt bearing some sort of popular character. Why? I forget.
Most people wore a Loadsamoney T-shirt or a Fido Dido T-shirt or some such, but I - coming from the most socially repressed family in South East Anglia - didn't have any t-shirts with 'popular characters' on.
After at least half an hour digging through various closets, we found the closest thing possible - a T-shirt bearing a picture of the Halifax Building Society Cat.
While I like to think I was championing the cause of Naomi Klein's seminal book 'No Logo', I was actually championing the cause of low rate mortgages with 17.9% APR.
This taunt can be used against a teacher in the following circumstances;
a) You are in a school which teaches Classics.
b) Your classics teacher has recently crashed the school minibus.
c) Part of your lesson involves delining Latin verbs on the blackboard. In particular nomen, the final form of which is nominibus.
Oh, fuck it. This isn't really worth it.
For some reason, this is a very funny thing to say when you and your friends are on acid, and logic slips vaguely back into place for a moment. This isn't a playground thing, it's just something I wanted to share. If it encourages children to take acid, all the better. Anybody got any spare acid?
Misunderstanding the concept of No Uniform Day, Graham McKillop arrived at school in a Lemming costume, complete with green hair. Good publicity for Psygnosis; bad, BAD publicity for Graham McKillop.
An all-purpose phrase, as long as the purpose is to stop Richard talking, responding to an insult, kicking a ball, sitting near you, or otherwise having any dealings with the world around him.
Best said in an exhausted and really loud voice, so everyone turns around to see what it was that Richard was trying this time.
After some months of such training, Richard will automatically not try it, and require only a raised finger and eyebrow to shut him up, if a look of hopeful interaction flickers across his face, or any sounds start to come out of his mouth.
We had a history teacher who wrote copious notes on the blackboard. It became a test of courage to wait until he was in the middle of writing and stand up and whip out your knob. Whoever dared to leave it out the longest, risking him turning around and catching you, was the Knob-King of the week. Once, a particularly unpopular boy, trying to ingratiate himself with the in-crowd, whipped out his knob during the lesson and the boy behind him yanked his trousers and pants down and shouted 'KNOB!' Of course, the teacher turned around and caught him. He was sent home and his parents had to come in and see the headmaster.
A thick and glutinous ejaculation, which is slightly yellow in colour, and alcoholic. Coined after an English lesson demonstration of how to make Egg-Nog, which was all very exciting because we had booze in the classroom. We were allowed to have tiny sips and pretend to be drunk.
Nobby Hall is a standard bus song, sung to the tune of "If you're happy and you know it...".
His name was Nobby Hall, Nobby Hall,
His name was Nobby Hall, Nobby Hall,
His name was Nobby Hall, and he only had one... fiiiing-EEER!
His name was Nobby Hall, Nobby Hall.
Now you've got the general idea, we can mercifully whip through the other verses.
  • He went to rob a bank, and he stopped to have a sandwich.
  • The police began a hunt, and they caught the stupid man.
  • The police caught him quick, and they caught him by his elbow.
  • The judge's name was Annie, and she had a hairy head.
  • The lawyer's name was Chuck, and he was a lousy rascal.
  • They sent him off to Venus, and he landed on his head.
  • He landed in a pit, and the pit was full of moss.
After which, if you're all still singing, you can round off with the first verse.
There are two ways of spicing it up. The first version, for wet ladies, include singing with the proper sweary words in, but very quietly, so that everyone goes "tee hee". For the bolder performers, you can sing the whole thing "inverted". An inverted verse would go;
She had a hairy fanny, hairy fanny,
She had a hairy fanny, hairy fanny,
She had a hairy fanny,
and the judge's name was... Annie,
She had a hairy fanny, hairy fanny.
It's important to keep the pause, as though you are going to say something rude, but don't. Just like the original.
This version would drop the jaws of younger children, which is what it's all about, really.
A non-alcoholic attack where you punch your victim from both sides, in either kidney.
We had a G.C.S.E. Physics teacher called Mr Fennell. He was an arse to begin with, but any teacher whose first name is Norman deserves everything he gets.nnNorm used to have whole lists of sayings, like when he demonstrated action and reaction using a trolley on a spring he would pull the spring tight saying "I'm no fool, I've played this game before". Or when holding a hot jar, "Ooh, Mucho Hotto". Bad enough as it stands, but only augmented by the fact that he was an inveterate pipe smoker, and would always, without fail, set us some crappy task and disappear across the corridor to the Prep Room to have a quick puff.nnThis led our hardy little band of Physicists to form the "Happy Norm Appreciation Society", so called because he was a miserable fucker whom we all hated. Such papers existed within the society as 'Teaching from the Prep Room', 'The Role of the Pipe in Teaching' and 'Why am I such a twat, my name is Norm' Hit songs included Aspects of Norm, The Phantom of the Opera's Lighting System, CapAciTorS and the list goes on.nnYes, we were sad, but my God the look on his face on our last day when we presented him with the collected papers of The Normers was worth every pubescent moment. And all this informed my own short lived teaching career in Manchester: I decided maybe I wasn't quite in the right mould when one lunchtime I discovered I had the same nicknames for my colleagues as the kids did.nnLike Mr Henderson, who is bald. Clearly, Hendyslap. No question. This is the same Hendyslap who strode into the main staff room, irritated by the mess of coffee granules on the side, proclaiming, "Would the member of staff who has Palsy please refrain from making coffee". Oops.
Norman McCaig was a scottish poet who so impressed us with his poetry and name that we rechristened him Nurmin MacQuaggey and recorded his adventures in cartoon form as the Norman McCaig Saga.
This three-part epic featured Norman meeting someone and saying "I am the poet McCaig", before receiving pieces of sage advice.
His three oracles were a man with a large hammer, Yoda and the Jewish Cheese Man. Jewish Cheese Man regularly appeared in our workbook defacing, and had a book of Norman's poetry hidden in his large cossack-style hat.
After playing "speednob" on your exercise book, one method of correction was making them look like Norman soldiers. This is done by extending the 'jap line' down beyond the 'head line', making the nose guard of the Normal helmet, and adding a face. Additional realism could be achieved by adding a little arm holding a spear or sword, and shield.
Onomatopoeic; a blow job. Funnier since Ikea took it up as an advertising slogan. Incidentally, the only real naughtiness in the IKEA catalogue is the RIMMA guest towel.
A sensetive - if somewhat addling to a child - way of describing someone with a terminal illness.
Simon Paul once turned up to a games lesson with this little beauty:
"Dear Mr. Grant, Please excuse Simon from games today as he has had cold and is feeling a little floppy.
Mrs. Paul"

I'd like to say we ripped him apart for it, but there was no need - he was already the long-haired son of a local vicar with his reputation already lying in tatters around his half-mast trousers.
So much for a merciful God.
A craze that went on for far too long was getting urgently catching someone's attention, then saying "nothing" as though they were cretins for asking. It went a little something like this: "Hey John! John!" "Yes, Tuppence?" "Nothing" (cue laughter)
What Jews are, apparently, according to a teacher at my primary school. Subtle racist undertones naturally lost on a group of cross-legged six year olds.
#3 in the lies of Troy Hawkins series.
Troy once also pulled aside a friend of mine, and told him he could get "Nuclear Hand Grenades" for a very reasonable price. Troy, we feel, had not put his usual amount of effort into making this lie believable.
In the periodic table, the element molybdenum (atomic weight 42) has the abbreviation of 'MO'. Obviously this being short for HOMO, proves without a doubt that '42' is therefore a completely GAY number and anyone getting 42% on an exam is a 100% vagina-decliner.
How to cheer up boring wet breaks. First get your hands on two bolts, one nut and a packet of Swan matches. Screw one bolt a turn and a half into the nut then fill the centre of the remaining hole in the nut with the 'explosive' material off the top of a number of matches. Carefully screw the second bolt in, not too fast or you could end up with a burnt hand. This done, you're ready with a primed explosive projectile device. I can't remember anyone getting hurt but it was exciting at the time - and noisy especially when the coat racks got a strike!
Someone of lower intelligence than than the rest of their group. Nutjobs were often administered chapatees, swift slaps to the forehead that made such a satisfying noise that people would turn from their conversations to say "that's good chapatee".