Mr Eade was (and presumably still is) a very camp, unmarried man. Rumours of his homosexuality are probably exagerrated - he always struck me as more of a serial boy rapist. Anyway, he taught history. The textbooks we used were by a man called Terry Seaman. A comedy name to be sure, and much mileage was gained from the authors unusual monicker. We used these books for three years, so after a while the hilarity sort of abated, if you know what I mean. One day though, just when we thought the Seaman had run dry, Mr Eade was covering a particulalry dull area of the Schlesweig-Holstein affair and, obviously acting under the divine influence of Our Lord Jesus Christ himself, a certain Pete Rogers cried out in frustration, "Oh Mr Eade! Its all covered in Seaman."
seans dropkick(pending)
You wrote "wiv". You total fucking twat.
a boy called sean got really pissed off wiv my mate and did a full on 2 footed dropkick on my mate.
it broke his nose and gave him concussion.
i thought it was well funny till i realised i had locked my bike up wiv him and , since he had gone to hospital, coulnd get my bike i had to walk home.
and it was pissing rain.
The first day of college and the first class was history. Our lecturer was teaching us about how the system of currency came about. He asked us the system of buisness transaction used after barter system (exchanging goods for other goods). I had read at high school, the system of clay tablets with pictures embossed on them, existed before the minting of coins. these clay tablets had a name to them and were called Seals. I jumped up and said "Seals". My lecturer and classmates just stared at me. The lecturer, very politely, replied " I'm sorry, around the world, we used an item called 'currency' instead of sea creatures". This caused an immediate uproar in the class. After the class had ended, my friends gathered around me and some smart ass(who also happened to be obsessed with the game, U.S Navy Seals) came up with my nickname, Seargant Seal, a.k.a. SS a.k.a (occasionally) ASS. All over the college I'm known as Seargant or Seal and even the lecturers have forgotten my real name. I like my nick name except for the occasional ASS which gets on my nerves sometimes, coz, it has it's own mods, like, Ass-face, asshole,.. etc.
Having found myself waiting outside the headmaster's office for a menial crime, I became rather bored and decided it was a good opportunity to practice my Kung Fu kicks against his door. However, mid-kick, the headmaster opened it to find an 8 year old girl in an undeniably threatening pose.
He was so horrified that he sent me to stand outside the secretary's office, a punishment, I was told, that he had never before been forced to bestow upon any pupil. As it was, the secretary was a kind elderly lady named Mrs. Brooks, who put plasters on children's knees when they fell over. She made me some Ribena and then sent me back to class.
He was so horrified that he sent me to stand outside the secretary's office, a punishment, I was told, that he had never before been forced to bestow upon any pupil. As it was, the secretary was a kind elderly lady named Mrs. Brooks, who put plasters on children's knees when they fell over. She made me some Ribena and then sent me back to class.
Alligator => Masturbator
Crododile => Peadophile
Other creatures in the "Goodbye, sweetheart" range include "In a minute, donkey's winnit", "See you soon, Ken Boon", "Au revoir, pig in a bra", and "Auf Wiedersehen, Hitler's brain".
Not to mention "Cheers, Deers", "Caio, Cow", and "B'Bye, F'fly".
I'm sorry, I took a fairly naff entry and made it three times worse. Oops - Log
Crododile => Peadophile
Other creatures in the "Goodbye, sweetheart" range include "In a minute, donkey's winnit", "See you soon, Ken Boon", "Au revoir, pig in a bra", and "Auf Wiedersehen, Hitler's brain".
Not to mention "Cheers, Deers", "Caio, Cow", and "B'Bye, F'fly".
I'm sorry, I took a fairly naff entry and made it three times worse. Oops - Log
There was always someone who decided that their life would be vastly improved by adopting a cool nickname of their choosing. The idea was that news of your new moniker would spread through the halls of the school, and by lunchtime everyone would know you by your new, cool nickname. The problem was that most people chose something lame like 'mad max' or 'LL Cool J.' Sigh.
We were subjected to school assemblies in which motivational speakers, usually fat, badly-dressed men, would badger us for an hour or two. One such speaker, this time a fat, badly-dressed woman, held up a piece of paper, and informed us that this was our self-esteem. She then proceeded to go through all the rotten things that were said to us (or, we suspected, her) in the course of the day.
"You're ugly."
"No, you can't sit with us."
"Jesus, you honk like a good'un, Cheryl."
With each insult, she would tear off a strip of paper. At the end of the day, evidently, one is left with a very small scrap of paper, or self-esteem.
It was common in the following week for children who had been insulted to pick up a piece of paper and rip it with a mock-sad face; that fat useless jabba had accidentally given children a decent defence to any insult.
"You're ugly."
"No, you can't sit with us."
"Jesus, you honk like a good'un, Cheryl."
With each insult, she would tear off a strip of paper. At the end of the day, evidently, one is left with a very small scrap of paper, or self-esteem.
It was common in the following week for children who had been insulted to pick up a piece of paper and rip it with a mock-sad face; that fat useless jabba had accidentally given children a decent defence to any insult.
Semi to Semi(pending)
With a netball semi circle painted on both ends of a school playground, two teams of school children are distributed equally if possible between the two semi circles. There is no limit to the amount of people to play this game. An entire year group could be divided between the two semi circles, so long as they fit inside.
The aim of the game is to throw a tennis ball from one semi circle to the other. The ball should be thrown high, not low and fast. If an individual in a team goes to catch the throw from the opposite team and drops the ball they are eliminated, so long as the ball landed in the semi circle. If the ball does not land in the semi circle the player who threw the ball is eliminated.
The winning team is the team who has thrown the ball to the opposite semi circle and eliminated the final team player of the opposing team.
The aim of the game is to throw a tennis ball from one semi circle to the other. The ball should be thrown high, not low and fast. If an individual in a team goes to catch the throw from the opposite team and drops the ball they are eliminated, so long as the ball landed in the semi circle. If the ball does not land in the semi circle the player who threw the ball is eliminated.
The winning team is the team who has thrown the ball to the opposite semi circle and eliminated the final team player of the opposing team.
Both the user name and the password used to gain access the school's most important files, the Powerpoint presentations for assembly. A few swift alterations later, Jack Petchy had sprouted mysterious nose penises and the award receiver was replaced with a picture of Mr T.
After the terrorist attacks, anyone who destroyed a paper aeroplane was referred to as a terrorist, and would be violently beaten. Also, hitting someone with a paper aeroplane became known as a 'September 11th' and if this happened, people would pretend to cry over the 'tragedy.'
This story contains the words "bucolic" and "boob-pinching" and caused the PL team to go for a little lie down. (Not with each other, don’t get funny.)
Sergeant Major was a game played by a lot of girls behind a garden shed in our bucolic playground in primary school. My friend, who invented the game, would always be the Sergeant Major, and another girl would be her Second-in-Command. Mostly the Second-in-Command would be played by a nice, docile girl who was kind to us, but occasionally the School Bully would take that role, which would add an extra frisson to the proceedings. The game was very simple and involved the Sergeant Major lining up the other girls against the shed and giving out small but curiously disturbing punishments such as boob-pinching and chinese burns if we didn’t stand up straight enough. It usually lasted all lunchtime because of our lax posture. Despite the oddness this was one of our favourite games. My friend who played the Sergeant Major also instigated Lesbian Day every other Friday.
Sergeant Major was a game played by a lot of girls behind a garden shed in our bucolic playground in primary school. My friend, who invented the game, would always be the Sergeant Major, and another girl would be her Second-in-Command. Mostly the Second-in-Command would be played by a nice, docile girl who was kind to us, but occasionally the School Bully would take that role, which would add an extra frisson to the proceedings. The game was very simple and involved the Sergeant Major lining up the other girls against the shed and giving out small but curiously disturbing punishments such as boob-pinching and chinese burns if we didn’t stand up straight enough. It usually lasted all lunchtime because of our lax posture. Despite the oddness this was one of our favourite games. My friend who played the Sergeant Major also instigated Lesbian Day every other Friday.
A more extreme version of kiss chase which never existed at my school, although at the age of about eight, I unsuccessfully tried to convince my cousins it did.
In middle school we got to watch a tasteful and informative series of sex education videos with our pretty young teacher Mrs Wood. At the end of the first video, which we had sat and watched quietly without giggling or crying, she asked 'Now, are there any questions?'. One young boy stuck up his hand and in an earnest and fearful voice asked 'Miss, what's a rainbow kiss?'.
A game that was played with the bladder of a deceased leather football. The bladder itself was known as "The Sex King Ball Bags", and was adorned with a superabundance of graffiti.
The actual rules of the game were vague, to say the least. It was played in the tennis courts, and involved kicking a half-deflated football bladder around, with a valve sticking out of one side.
The actual rules of the game were vague, to say the least. It was played in the tennis courts, and involved kicking a half-deflated football bladder around, with a valve sticking out of one side.
In Primary, the boys and girls loos were next to each other, separated by a wall. Me and a friend worked out a rythm of banging on the walls to the girls with our fists which meant we wanted to have sex with them. If they answered back with the correct return code, it was on. They never did get the return code correct.
One is left with the enduring image of a bunch of girls, standing in a toilet, listening with marked bemusement to the sounds of excited banging emenating from the boy's bathroom - Jamie.
One is left with the enduring image of a bunch of girls, standing in a toilet, listening with marked bemusement to the sounds of excited banging emenating from the boy's bathroom - Jamie.
I got my first stirrings when Mrs Ramsay bent over to cut a large sheet of sugar paper I was holding, and I got an unencumbered view of her tits down her top. I was 8. Later that year, sex was explained to me when I asked Lee Davies what he was referring to when he sang a song containing the lyrics '...And the hairs of her Dicky-Dido went down to her knees'.
At the time of the Teenage Mutant "Hero" Turtles (Psst, the BBC - we all called them Ninja Turtles anyway, you dicks), a variant of tag where instead of being it, you were 'Sexy Splinter'.
This is a photo of Splinter. Sexy Splinter. Phwoar. Splinter.
This is a photo of Splinter. Sexy Splinter. Phwoar. Splinter.
The most gay child in the class is Sexy Sue. It is Sexy Sue's task to run around, trying to grab the penises of the other boys. However, you can defend yourself by beating Sexy Sue to a pulp.
Game based around a tree.
One person would be elected the 'puller' and the rest of us would grab hold of the tree trunk for dear lives. The puller would attempt to remove pupils one by one from holding onto the tree by sheer force and if you were removed you then became a second puller and were then employed in removing others from the tree. The winner was the last one to be left clinging onto the tree.
This game, however, died a rapid death after some of the older boys said we all looked like we were trying to shag the tree. It did too.
One person would be elected the 'puller' and the rest of us would grab hold of the tree trunk for dear lives. The puller would attempt to remove pupils one by one from holding onto the tree by sheer force and if you were removed you then became a second puller and were then employed in removing others from the tree. The winner was the last one to be left clinging onto the tree.
This game, however, died a rapid death after some of the older boys said we all looked like we were trying to shag the tree. It did too.
The inability of English teachers to explain how Shakespeare or Chaucer could possibly be useful reading material is matched only by the pupils' inability to explain, in terms that English teachers accept, why it isn't. An impossible situation that will continue as long as there is oil in the earth.
From New Zealand. Mock any embarrassing situation with the word “shaaaaaaame”, following by a stroking of the chin between thumb and forefinger.
Regional variations; “Shamola!”, where you rub the forefingers of either hand together, and oddly enough, in Wellington, of saying “TAAAAAAAAY!” and pulling a lower eyelid down.
(Shame in England can be accompanied by licking the finger and holding it to the shamed person's face. The heat of their embarrassment will cause the spit to "sizzle". Well, it won't, of course - that's why you have to shout "sizzle".
Regional variations; “Shamola!”, where you rub the forefingers of either hand together, and oddly enough, in Wellington, of saying “TAAAAAAAAY!” and pulling a lower eyelid down.
(Shame in England can be accompanied by licking the finger and holding it to the shamed person's face. The heat of their embarrassment will cause the spit to "sizzle". Well, it won't, of course - that's why you have to shout "sizzle".
Shareeta Rap(pending)
when martial complains - as she inevitably will - along the lines of how dare we create new admins without consulting her first, wave this very entry in her face.
This is very naughty and racialist, but when you are 6 and your teacher calls the Asian kids 'Darks', how would you know any better?Shareeta was one of two 'darks' at our school and we only did the rap to her and not Danny Chankria because he was a black belt in Do-Man-Fu (he said).
'Bud-bud ding ding
Everybody's singing
Here is the Shareeta rap!
There ain't no black,
In the Union Jack,
So send Shareeta back'
Lunchtime entertainment based as loosely as possible on the classic 80s arcade game Arkanoid.
Arkanoid was a posh version of Breakout, and involved moving a bat around to bounce a ball against some blocks.
Arkanoid didn't involve our class headcase chasing us around school trying to whack us around our shorts-trousered legs with a large ruler. This was known, unlike the game Arkanoid, which this doesn't resemble at all, as "crisping".
You were briefly immune from crisping when you stood on a desk. Arkanoid had no such safety zone. However, to maintain this safety, you had to jump from desk to desk, like in Donkey Kong. Not Arkanoid.
Arkanoid was a posh version of Breakout, and involved moving a bat around to bounce a ball against some blocks.
Arkanoid didn't involve our class headcase chasing us around school trying to whack us around our shorts-trousered legs with a large ruler. This was known, unlike the game Arkanoid, which this doesn't resemble at all, as "crisping".
You were briefly immune from crisping when you stood on a desk. Arkanoid had no such safety zone. However, to maintain this safety, you had to jump from desk to desk, like in Donkey Kong. Not Arkanoid.
Pre-Feargal solo, but possibly not pre-Undertones. On Charity No-Tie day - freedom of expression for 50p - anyone not undoing their top shirt button was said to be Sharky. I do not know to this day whether this was an insult or not.
Original played by screwing up a piece of paper in Mr. Sharpe's lesson and throwing it around until he noticed. Later , in the abscence of Mr. Sharpe's class, drawing pins were pushed through the paper before it was launched, causing some pain to the catcher. The lengths we went to, just so that we could play Sharpe Ball without the name seeming inapt.