another one for me

a dancing game.me and my mates used to play it alot, i always won seeing as i had played it the most, cos i made it. and one day, i found swear words. new posibilities arose, such as s-h-i-t-e, a-r-s-e, and the less popular,
s-h-e-i-l-a- -i-s- -a- -c-u-n-t- -w-h-o- -i-s- -a-n- -e-g-g-y- -d-o-y-l-e-r!!!

class comedian: "have you got H.I.V.?"
hopefully unwitting victim: "no!"
cc: "positive?"
huv: "yes."
cc: "hahahah, you just said you're H.I.V. positive!"

cue laughter from the popular kid's gang of goons.
of course, this was done often enough that every knew it, but even if the victim tried to get out of it, the comedian would just pretend that he had won the battle of wits.

#1 in the lies of Troy Hawkins series.
Troy's hacking powers were legendary. He hacked into the UN mainframe computer, and sent 800 tanks to Egypt. However, his actions were traced, and he was fined fifty million pounds, which would have financially crippled most schoolchildren. Troy, however, was lucky in that respect, as his father invented Windows with Bill Gates. Bill Gates was more than happy to pay the bill, what with his good friend having invented Windows with him, and that.

Used in response to those asking "What are you doing?" when you're playing around on a school computer. Sometimes said in spite of the fact that an animation of a spinning penis is on the screen.

if so i recommend singing 'barbara ann' by the beach boys every lesson. she'll ignore it at first, maybe even chuckle slightly. 3 years down the line the bitch will crack!

"Mr F--- has more hair around his arse than on his head and face," stated the graffiti on one of those ancient exam desks with the inkwell slots.

Ideas for class discussion: do you think this is an insult? Is it a good one? Would you argue that it says more about the arse-gazing author than the intended target of his criticism? Can you find a parallel in act II of Macbeth?

A brief round-up of the hair options available to the child who considers themself special...
Toners
Suitable for Duran/Japan fans, these came in sachets, the contents of which you 'washed in'. They lasted for between zero and one washes and came in the following tones: 'Mahogony', 'Copper', 'Fox' and 'Creosote'.
Sun-In
Suitable for Wham fans, sprayed onto towel dry hair, it gave you that 'just been to Club Tropicana' look. At Club Tropicana not only are drinks free, but people have hair like hay, coloured in with yellow felt-tip pens.
Henna
Suitable for Goths with crusty leanings. Users normally stank of patchouli.
Spray-In Colour
Strictly for the mummy's boys who weren't allowed to do anything even semi-permanent to their hair, these came in ridiculous fluorescent colours and earned the user no respect whatsoever. Nobody likes a tourist, especially "wacky" fuckers who rinsed their hair in the sink at the end of the day, so they don't get told off at home.
Proper Permanent Hair Dye
Two colours - Black. Or Blue/black. Can you hear me calling, Mari-aaa-eee-aaa-eee-anne?

I admit, I had long hair as a teenager, and since most of the local chavs despised such gestures of free will, they took every oppertunity to politely point out that my hair was indeed, long. such jibes were:

"Eeuuh! You're hair is like a girls!"
"You've got girl's hair!"
"Get your hair cut, you big girl!"

As you can probably see, the comments varied greatly between chav. However, me and my good friend (who conveniently had the same hair length as mine - Bionic_sheep anyone?) decided to put a stop to these pointless jeers, and came up with a code of "come-back conduct" such as:

Q -"Your hair makes you look like a girl"
A -"Then why don't you get down on your knees and suck my cock and find out"

Q -"You should get your hair cut"
A -"You should take a shower and get some personal hygene tips"

Q -"Get your hair cut!"
A -"Make me"

The last one always left the desired chav in a state of severe confusion, as not even a "your mum" or a "fuck off" could fix the situation.

The result of lighting a Zippo near the back of the head of a girl in the full grip of eighties-style hairspray overdose mania. The resultant blaze usually horrifies the hair-arsonist to the point where he instinctively tries to beat it out with his hands, thus ensuring that the unfortunate girl gets concussed as well as burned.

The number rises if the haircut is particularly severe, or ridiculous. The most I have heard is Haircut 1000, which is somewhat reserved considering that children say 'gazillions' and 'babwillions' to mean anything more than 50.

The city in which puddingbowl lane is the high street. Based on the mid-80s advert on Anglia TV for Carpet City. A squeaky voiced squirrel-man-creature would ask "Mexico City? London City? New York City?" and the booming-voiced continuity dude would assert "No! It's Carpet City!"
Hang on a minute, wasn't this the other way around. Wasn't the continuity bloke lost, and the squirrel-man calmed him with the reassuring notion that he was, in fact, in Carpet City? The continuity man then went on to discuss the prices of carpets, which is odd to say that three seconds ago he didn't even know where he was. I don't think he was ever lost at all.

Screamed at the freshly coiffured as they entered the classroom for morning registration. Also accompanied by a multitude of fingers pointing at the brand spanking new 'barnet', and constant hair-ruffling for the remainer of the week, until the novelty finally wears off. Or when some other mug walks in with a new short-back and slap.

Michael's mum cut his hair into a long page-boy style some time in the late 70's. We would take turns sneaking up behind him with scissors and cut a big chunk out of the perfect hair to the rally of hair cut! His mum would then cut it again to even it up. Within a matter of weeks he was a skinhead. Bullying with scissors was great if he started to lose it you could wave them in his face and he would quickly back down. This was a valuable introduction to weaponry. NEVER run with them though.

Said instead of 'Hello' as you approach someone who has had a particularly noticeable haircut. Only really funny when a whole group of people hear and understand, and the unwitting recipient just dumbly replies 'Alright, mate'.

A bonus branch of mathematics not generally taught in most A Level courses. To be taught this topic, simply write "HAIRY BALLS THEOREM" on the blackboard before the teacher enters, and as they wearily start to rub it out, insist firmly that Hairy Balls Theorem is all you wish to learn.

The habit of drawing big bollocks and an accompanying penis on all folders, school books and coursework. Being the only girl in my group of friends, it used to be a great source of amusement for the boys to draw on each others work that needed to be handed in next period. My books were removed from the table... we were 17 after all.

Game played by my mate Pete and I in upper sixth. Involves pulling scrotal sack through fly until it looks like a piece of chewing gum covered in hair, and then chasing some girls.

Short-lived, as the girls seemed to enjoy it, which was no fun at all.

Nativity Play. Kid who'd almost drowned the year before (and was therefore a bit special) playing the part of Joseph. Supposed to say "hail Mary..." on seeing the newborn Christ, but instead said "Hairy Mary, Fruitbat dropping shit pancake frog eyed cream turd". Audience stunned but appreciative

A fiendish ruse guaranteed to cause humiliation of ones enemies. Approach victim nonchalantly and ask them if they are mad. They will say no. Tell them that you've heard the second sign of madness is having hair on the palm of your hands. Eager to prove themselves not mad victim will begin fervently examining palms for hair. Then (and heres the clever bit) tell them the first sign of madness is looking for it. Leave victim staring in to palms no longer sure of their sanity.
A more insulting (but nonsensical) popular variation was to replace the word madness with gayness and if you wanted to add a medical slant cancer was a good alternative..

A large brown birthmark on Simon Pickard's wrist that grew frighteningly luxurious thick black hair.
To send him into a screaming eppy, you simply asked Simon the time. Then, when he looked at his black plastic Casio, you would tell him you meant the time on his 'hairy' watch.
I'm sure he hoped the game would die out in secondary school as we all matured, but instead, having started French lessons, the wording simply changed to 'No, what's the time au naturelle?'

A popular ditty in the first year at my secondary school:

'Half a pound of tuppeny rice,
Half a pound of plastic.
Put it in the washing machine,
Out comes a spastic!'

What were we thinking?

If anyone is queer and gay enough to ask you what time it was (the stinking pooves), the proper response was to look at your bare wrist and inform the aforementioned cock-fairy that it was,
Half past the monkey's ass, and a Quarter to his balls.
Honestly, where do these gaymosexuals get off?

"Put some jam on your trainers and invite your trousers down for tea" Insult for someone whose trousers are too short.

Kindly, bearded, Physics and Maths teacher, Mr Legg, must surely have known that an endless stream of his pupils were blatantly taking the piss when they would exaggeratedly hold their breath or cup a hand over their nose when he spoke to them. Perhaps he did know. Perhaps he did deliberately eat dog turds prior to each lesson (a personal theory of Ian Chapman), but I can't believe that. Surely?

Anne Ross was a teacher at my school. She had breath that could strip paint at 20 paces. She used her halitosis as a weapon against kids. When you did something wrong she'd get close to you and just speak and breathe on you. More than one kid lost his breakfast. Met her in the street 20 years after I left school, made sure I was upwind, although her teeth looked a little too perfect to be her natural ones. That's what happens when you don't brush your teeth kids.