A turd. Also, a boy, Adam White. The 'chod' association happened before I moved to the area, but was revealed in such horrified tones that I never ever dared go near him for fear of catching chod disease. Odd 'chicken and egg' origin - was Adam known as Chod before he shat out of a tree, and so that's how shit became known as 'chod'? Or was shit always 'chod', and Adam assumed the mantle of 'Chod' only after he shat out of a tree? Never found out.

Directed with great relish at those who had lost an argument, displayed ineptitude or suffered from general misfortune, this insult was usually drawn out ("chee-yokeddd!"), accompanied by a dry cough, and the pinching of skin over the adams apple.

Not to be confused with the pinching of skin either side of the neck, which as everyone knows, is an Ethiopian eating a crisp.

Based on the grail selection scene at the end of Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade. Present the victim with two closed palms. Tell them to "Choose Wisely".
Whichever choice is made precipitates a violent assault, followed by gravely intoning "he chose poorly.." in the fashion of a 700 year old knight.

After a chinese girl gobbed in someone's (OK, my) face, the game of "it" was transformed into the game of "chow mein". Essentially the same game, but you're passing on a different condition.

Chris had (and indeed, has) a huge quiff which led to many hours of ridicule, as is to be expected. The insults really took off on the day that he feel asleep in English and woke to find that Ben Rock (known, coincidentally, as Violent Ben) had stapled his hair to the table with a huge wall stapler. The sight of Chris blundering about screaming with a table hanging from his head will stay with me until the day I die. He was eventually subdued and the table removed, but the scars, both mental and physical, remain. Please put this up, as if he sees it, he might finally get a fucking haircut.

Christening different new clothing required different rituals. Doctor Marten's boots had to be broken in by kicking someone harder than yourself up the arse. The more holes the boots had, the harder your target had to be. If the task was not completed that lunchtime, you would get kicked by all other DM wearers.

A good time to ridicule Jehova's Witnesses is to talk about your Christmas presents in front of one. In particular, ask four or five people what they got before you get to the Jehova, pause, then ask them what they got. Word of warning - make sure you do not ask a poor kid what they got in the build up, or else he might accidentally become the object of ridicule. See also knock knock jokes.

The name of a child with learning disabilites in my year. Because of his presence I was denied much of the spastic in-jokery that was prevalent amongst most schools at the time, as anyone caught making fun of him would be dealt with severely.
I'm quite grateful to him, because it is through him that I learnt how to deal with mentally handicapped people; generally, stare at the floor not saying anything and hoping they will go away, so you can stop feeling guilty. Oh, and empty gestures of friendship, like being forced by your mother to invite him to your birthday party.
When he left school, spastic jokes promptly became all the rage, even amongst the teachers.

The spraying of Deep Heat onto the testicles. A proper night-time chubbing requires a number of key roles. Least popular was the pulling down of the pyjamas, indifferent was the variable number of team members required to pin down the victim, and most prestigious was the chubber himself, who delivered the chub unto the naducles. This can go wrong (or spectacularly right, depending on your level of sadism and optimism) if the victim is allergic to Deep Heat.

vt. To masturbate. As a noun, you are a "chugger", and if you are a prolific wanker, you are a "chuggernaut". Derived from the imagined effort and sound effects that go into a wank, which is, honestly, the equivalent of the engine on an ant boat.

Advanced bummer, or, if you will, bum chum third dan.

Gob on your cigarette.
Add powdered flint from your cheap lighter.
Light cigarette.
Voila - crap cigarette sparkler.

The game made famous in TV’s 'Malcolm in the Middle', but an old favourite.
Object of the game is to get the victim to "see" the magic circle, made from your thumb and index finger (in the classic "OK" sign). The magic circle is only "active" when the victim looks directly at it when it is held below waist level.

The victim’s attention is drawn to the magic circle using diversion techniques such as pointing out untied shoelaces, dropping coins etc, anything where one must look below waist level. The magic circle can then be introduced into the victim’s field of vision. When the victim looks directly at the magic circle, you are permitted to punch them on the arm for their gullibility. A pain in the arse to explain, breathtakingly simple in practice.

A futile question designed to test the infinite patience of our Religious Education teacher. He would reply every time with a textbook response - "It is the removal of a small piece of skin from the male sexual organ, or penis." If he had answered without using the phrase "male sexual organ, or penis", he might have been spared the endless repetition. But he did, and he wasn't.

A boy, in need of support and companionship after receiving a prosthetic testicle, tells his 'best friend' about said operation. Within minutes the entire school knows. Within hours his name is 'clacker knackers'. Withing a week, kids are waiting for him to pass by at break times with a couple of Coke cans, clanking them together to match the rhythm of his walk. The bionic bollocked boy flees.

A greatly evil character from the film Robocop, which I was obsessed with at that time of my life. Particular choice Boddicker quotes that we would often use in tedious repetition were: "Can you fly Bobby?" when tripping people up, and "Bitches, leave!" whenever Paul Antell walked into the room.

At my school, the thick fuckers were put in the class ending with the letter E (1E, 2E etcetera. Get it?). These classes were so stupid that teachers didn't even try. We did, however, discover that they liked poetry when we saw pinned to the wall the finest works of 1E. 'Red Rose' 'I have a guinea called rose, his name is rather red'. Abstract or what? This led to us making up reams of similar works to amuse ourselves. Sounds elitist I know but if you can't spell your own name when you're 12 you fucking deserve it.

Classic urban fable, told with very little variation, although in this version the boy is listening to Beethoven's Fifth. Basically,

• Boy decides to have immersive wank, using headphones and closing his eyes.
• Boy masturbates to stringy completion.
• Upon opening his eyes, a steaming cup of tea is next to his bed.
• Boy deduces that mother has watched him wank.

A worse case scenario would be if the child opened his eyes on the vinegar strokes, saw his mother standing there, and having passed the point of no return, ejaculated onto his knee while they both stared at each other. A grubby little punctuation mark, sliding onto the linen.

After one class exercise, we were allowed to decide on the winner of a poster-making competition by judging each other's posters. This was designed to encourage a feeling of interaction, fairness, and "having a say".
What in fact happened was an immediate orgy of bribery, blackmail and violence in an attempt to get full marks. Ahh... organised crime.

An ultra-urgent version of "dog in the playground" was "wasp in the classroom".
As the game was more urgent, you didn't have time to shout "wasp in the classroom". You'd just shoud "Wasp!", and the entire class would jump to their feet, waving rulers around without any real aim, stand on their desks, throw books at the wasps, and ignore the weak child who would squeal that we were "making it angry". Girls would pull at their hair, convinced that it was in there, or hide under their desks to avoid the books and flailing rulers.
It resembled the Muppets' green room, crossed with Airplane's "Don't Panic - PANIC" scene. Only three things could return calm;

1. By an extreme fluke, the wasp is killed.
2. The wasp flies out of the classroom.
3. The teacher sighs and leaves the room.

Stock phrase from a teacher, when confronted by pupils making a mess.
Best met with the reply "yes, they are". Because, after all, they fucking are.

Taking inspiration from a Harvest Festival hymn, the game of Cleave The Sod involved huddling round a victim (the "Sod") and pushing them up against the playground fence while chanting "Cleave The Sod!".

We never considered setting the victim on fire, though. Other than that, it was exactly like The Wicker Man.

The stupidest bloke ever. We told him once that a wasp nest had 50 quid in it, and all he had to do was to shout at it whilst running towards it. Upon reaching it he then had to beat the living wasp out of it. He ended up looking like Russell Harty's cock. Hence the phrase "Don't be such a Clemo"

Many parsimonious mothers make their children items of clothing - the baggy jumper of comedy folklore. Clim's mum went one further and made him a pair of shoes. This wasn't quite as mental as it sounds, as she worked in a shoe factory, but the soles that she took from there were several sizes too big for Clim's feet. Accordingly, all around the uppers was a good inch of sole, and Clim Clofwell's dodgems were born.
Needless to say, Clim hated the shoes with a passion, but they proved to be absolutely indestructible. He left them out in the garden for 2 weeks whilst away on holiday; they went mouldy, but still would not die.

Clim ended up as the victim of a strange man under a bridge in Leicester who looked on whilst Clim was forced to strip, and then put on an enormous pair of white Y-fronts. I'm not sure what part his home-made shoes played in this sordid episode.

Not a proper or acceptable substitute for a lunchbox.