| Report for rob smith | |
|---|---|
| Approved stories | 2 |
| Pending stories | 2 |
| Deleted stories | 3 |
| Summary | Could Try Harder |
When my friend was a student teacher, one of the children in his placement class was called Dirty Durkin. I'm pretty sure Dirty was his actual first name and it happened to be pretty apt due to his parents never cleaning him in any obvious way. Eventually, a note was sent home to Dirty Snr. saying his son was basically infecting the entire school with his filth and could he be washed occasionally, please?
The next day, Dirty came to school in the same clothes he wore the previous day, no cleaner in any respect than before, but with a zorro-like z of deoderant clearly visible on the front of his shirt.
This presumably constituted the height of cleanliness in the Durkin household.
The next day, Dirty came to school in the same clothes he wore the previous day, no cleaner in any respect than before, but with a zorro-like z of deoderant clearly visible on the front of his shirt.
This presumably constituted the height of cleanliness in the Durkin household.
spanner was a cunt. so was matthew blythe.
*AYAZ*
The first Indian kid at our school once mentioned that he went home for lunch. We naturally assumed that this meant he made the journey back to India during his lunch hour, every day.
The details of his journey (by the elephant, which he kept tied up in the bike shed) became increasingly elaborate and this was made all the more charming (or insulting, depending on whether or not you are Ramish) by the fact that we didn't know a single thing about India, or Indian culture.
[log]I love this, but I get the feeling I'd love it more if you told me about these misinformed fantasies. If you can remember any of the best, please share...[/log]
The details of his journey (by the elephant, which he kept tied up in the bike shed) became increasingly elaborate and this was made all the more charming (or insulting, depending on whether or not you are Ramish) by the fact that we didn't know a single thing about India, or Indian culture.
[log]I love this, but I get the feeling I'd love it more if you told me about these misinformed fantasies. If you can remember any of the best, please share...[/log]
They generally revolved around the indisputable fact that – like almost everyone in India – Ramish was some sort of king there. Unfortunately, his kingdom consisted mostly of ill-described mud huts, coconuts, bananas and little else. Also Tarzan was there sometimes.
Anyway, Ramish’s authority in his Indian kingdom was absolute and he regularly staged mass executions involving the coconuts. And he had exactly one hundred wives. Frankly, I’m not sure why he came back for double French in the afternoons. I probably wouldn’t have bothered.
The one thing we actually did know for certain about India is that all the elephants there have handprints painted on them. Therefore Ramish’s elephant was daubed with graffiti, mostly concerning his dad.
And rightly so, because his dad was a colonel in Ramish’s army and responsible for a genocide against whoever it was that Indians didn’t like. I think it might have been some other Indians.
Come to think about it, the genocide business is probably why Ramish’s dad moved to Darlington in the first place. It all finally makes sense.
Anyway, Ramish’s authority in his Indian kingdom was absolute and he regularly staged mass executions involving the coconuts. And he had exactly one hundred wives. Frankly, I’m not sure why he came back for double French in the afternoons. I probably wouldn’t have bothered.
The one thing we actually did know for certain about India is that all the elephants there have handprints painted on them. Therefore Ramish’s elephant was daubed with graffiti, mostly concerning his dad.
And rightly so, because his dad was a colonel in Ramish’s army and responsible for a genocide against whoever it was that Indians didn’t like. I think it might have been some other Indians.
Come to think about it, the genocide business is probably why Ramish’s dad moved to Darlington in the first place. It all finally makes sense.
This version of my submission is *BULLSHIT* and the editor should be ashamed.
Ramish\'s personal elephant didn\'t have handprints on it. Ramish was born in North Yorkshire, for fuck\'s sake. He decorated his elephant based on his native culture and his parents\' adopted culture.
Therefore his elephant\'s graffiti was more concerned with Thatcher than handprints. After all, this was the time - maybe the hour - when the milk snatcher clamped down on the tragedy of bike-shed elephants. Oh, and she closed down everything we had in the North that could have generated elephant-supporting revenue. I blame that bitch for the fact that county durham is not overrun with elephants.
But to be fair, Ramish could have stepped up. I blame him a little bit as well for our lack of native elephants.
Oh, and LOTP editors could learn a bit more about things like grammar.
Ramish\'s personal elephant didn\'t have handprints on it. Ramish was born in North Yorkshire, for fuck\'s sake. He decorated his elephant based on his native culture and his parents\' adopted culture.
Therefore his elephant\'s graffiti was more concerned with Thatcher than handprints. After all, this was the time - maybe the hour - when the milk snatcher clamped down on the tragedy of bike-shed elephants. Oh, and she closed down everything we had in the North that could have generated elephant-supporting revenue. I blame that bitch for the fact that county durham is not overrun with elephants.
But to be fair, Ramish could have stepped up. I blame him a little bit as well for our lack of native elephants.
Oh, and LOTP editors could learn a bit more about things like grammar.
One of my primary school teachers tried to discourage us from climbing pylons (that was big in the 70s) by telling us about someone she knew who did just that, touched the wire and was instantly transformed into a piece of coal.
Can you POSSIBLY IMAGINE a tale more likely to result in a tearful child being forced to scale a pylon by a jeering mob?
Can you POSSIBLY IMAGINE a tale more likely to result in a tearful child being forced to scale a pylon by a jeering mob?