Marathons.(pending)
Is this the 'Cookie' who emailed us and asked why his/her entries weren't going up? He asked WHY his entries weren't going up?
They are called Marathons, not Snickers.
And if you disagree you are gay and like watching "Buffy".
Marble Week(deleted)
Marble Week was an impromptu time that occurred every year during the summer at our Junior School.
Someone would bring in their marble collection, sparking off a massive school-wide frenzy where everyone would spend all their pocket money on marbles, bring them in to school and basically start gambling with them.
All around the perimeter of the playground would be kids sitting against the walls with their legs spread open and a marble in between. They would then tell the participants of the game how many paces back they had to go (based on what type of marbles were being used) then take a shot by rolling one of their own marbles along the ground towards the target marble. If any of the participants hit the target marble they got to keep it. All misses were kept by the target marbles owner.
Marble week would only ever last for a maximum of 1 week (if that) before it was banned by the teachers for the rest of the year. The two main reasons for the yearly ban were:
1. The temptation to throw your marble as hard as you could at the target owners crotch was to great for most of us. Sometimes handfuls at a time were thrown. Needless to say someone always got hurt.
2. 'Scrambles' took place regularly where the owner of a particularly good collection would accidentally on purpose have their marble bag knocked from their hands to the ground where they would spill out everywhere. At this time someone shouts 'Scramble!' and the whole school would go nuts trying to grab what they could.
Man! - they really were the days!
Someone would bring in their marble collection, sparking off a massive school-wide frenzy where everyone would spend all their pocket money on marbles, bring them in to school and basically start gambling with them.
All around the perimeter of the playground would be kids sitting against the walls with their legs spread open and a marble in between. They would then tell the participants of the game how many paces back they had to go (based on what type of marbles were being used) then take a shot by rolling one of their own marbles along the ground towards the target marble. If any of the participants hit the target marble they got to keep it. All misses were kept by the target marbles owner.
Marble week would only ever last for a maximum of 1 week (if that) before it was banned by the teachers for the rest of the year. The two main reasons for the yearly ban were:
1. The temptation to throw your marble as hard as you could at the target owners crotch was to great for most of us. Sometimes handfuls at a time were thrown. Needless to say someone always got hurt.
2. 'Scrambles' took place regularly where the owner of a particularly good collection would accidentally on purpose have their marble bag knocked from their hands to the ground where they would spill out everywhere. At this time someone shouts 'Scramble!' and the whole school would go nuts trying to grab what they could.
Man! - they really were the days!
Marble Week(deleted)
This phenomenon occured every year at my primary school and involved bringing in marbles and then gambling them all away. The game consisted of the host player sitting against the wall with their legs open and a marble on the floor in front of them. Competitors then took shots at the marble from an agreed distance and whoever hit the hosts marble with theirs won the hosts marble and got theirs back too. The host got to keep all the marbles that missed. Simple.
Unfortunately the tempatation to hurl your marble full-force at the host players knackers was far too strong for some of us and the resulting injuries always got marbles banned for the rest of the year. This never took more than a week.
Unfortunately the tempatation to hurl your marble full-force at the host players knackers was far too strong for some of us and the resulting injuries always got marbles banned for the rest of the year. This never took more than a week.
marbles(deleted)
in second grade the in thing was marbles. I never remember playing true marble games, but I do remember chucking them slowly one by one at the portable class room to see who could retrieve their marble before the teacher came out. They were ban shortly after, someone threw one at another kid.
Having cornered the marble market in his first year, in his second year Marcus Mellor rapidly established himself as the pornography kingpin of our school.
He dealt his grubby wares from a large, tatty, black briefcase held together with masking tape, and always filled to bursting point with an seemingly unlimited quantity of top-shelf magazines.
His empire came to an abrupt and spectacular end. Running to a lesson, his briefcase burst open, spilling Clubs, Razzles, Fiestas and Mayfairs in a slithering tide down the stairs. Despite his desperate entreaties, they were hoovered up within seconds by a huge crowd of unbelieving boys. I still can't watch aid convoys arrive in famine-stricken towns without being reminded of the event.
He dealt his grubby wares from a large, tatty, black briefcase held together with masking tape, and always filled to bursting point with an seemingly unlimited quantity of top-shelf magazines.
His empire came to an abrupt and spectacular end. Running to a lesson, his briefcase burst open, spilling Clubs, Razzles, Fiestas and Mayfairs in a slithering tide down the stairs. Despite his desperate entreaties, they were hoovered up within seconds by a huge crowd of unbelieving boys. I still can't watch aid convoys arrive in famine-stricken towns without being reminded of the event.
Marcus Mellor's Magical Briefcase(pending)
Having cornered the marble market in his first year, in his second Marcus Mellor rapidly established himself as the pornography kingpin of our school.
He dealt in his grubby wares from a large, tatty, black briefcase held together with masking tape, and always filled to bursting point with an apparently unlimited quantity of top-shelf magazines.
His empire came to an abrupt end one morning at the end of break. Running to his next lesson, his briefcase burst open, spilling Clubs, Razzles, Fiestas and Mayfairs in a slithering tide down the stairs. Despite his desperate entreaties, they were hoovered up within seconds by a huge crowd of unbelieving boys. I still can't watch aid convoys arrive in famine-stricken towns without being reminded of the event.
He dealt in his grubby wares from a large, tatty, black briefcase held together with masking tape, and always filled to bursting point with an apparently unlimited quantity of top-shelf magazines.
His empire came to an abrupt end one morning at the end of break. Running to his next lesson, his briefcase burst open, spilling Clubs, Razzles, Fiestas and Mayfairs in a slithering tide down the stairs. Despite his desperate entreaties, they were hoovered up within seconds by a huge crowd of unbelieving boys. I still can't watch aid convoys arrive in famine-stricken towns without being reminded of the event.
Soiling yourself in a moment of unforeseen and explosive diarrhoea. You will not live this down. Your name, if it begins with m and has two syllables, will be used to replace "magic" in the song "magic moments".
Marijuana, entrepreneurship and(deleted)
As fifth grade rolled around, our class began to realize the sway we held over the kids in the lower grades. This newfound respect manifested itself in a lively marijuana market which sprung up on the playground that fall and winter, helping to line the pockets of those who played themselves off as well-connected drug runners.
The marijuana in this case was maple leaves, painted bright green, painstakingly dried and then crumbled up and sprinkled into the obligatory plastic bag. Oregano and basil, nicked from the cupboard, became a stand-by as well. The wee ones who purchased the marijuana had no idea how to proceed: baggies were usually passed around, sniffed at with trepidation, bragged about, and eventually dropped and forgotten by the side of the track.
The "marijuana" market suddenly lost steam when Kedan, our classmate from the inner city, heard of it and consequently got expelled for selling real marijuana.
The marijuana in this case was maple leaves, painted bright green, painstakingly dried and then crumbled up and sprinkled into the obligatory plastic bag. Oregano and basil, nicked from the cupboard, became a stand-by as well. The wee ones who purchased the marijuana had no idea how to proceed: baggies were usually passed around, sniffed at with trepidation, bragged about, and eventually dropped and forgotten by the side of the track.
The "marijuana" market suddenly lost steam when Kedan, our classmate from the inner city, heard of it and consequently got expelled for selling real marijuana.
Mark Pyatt is Davros(deleted)
Theproject was to steal as much of Pyatt's property(which obviously had his name etched/scralwed in marker-pen or painstakingly written in TIPEX) and write "is Davros" underneath. This affirmation of Pyatt's true identity was further backed up by his rumoured experimentation on small animals in a kind of DIY vivisescion way- setting fire to hamsters and dissecting live frogs.
Pyatt left school to eventually work in the MOD, who I am sure know nothing of his "creator of the Daleks" identity, or that you could hit him full-on in the stomach with a class room chair without him batting an eyelid.
Pyatt left school to eventually work in the MOD, who I am sure know nothing of his "creator of the Daleks" identity, or that you could hit him full-on in the stomach with a class room chair without him batting an eyelid.
Mark Sneddon(pending)
As 16-year olds in December 1985, we thought it would be supremely adult to buy some beers, dog off school, and go round to Stephen Wyper’s house to watch the Australia v Scotland World Cup qualifier. Just like real men. At 9.30 in the morning. Rather surprisingly, it wasn’t such a good idea.
Mark Sneddon spent the match complaining that he was never going to lose his virginity, went into French class pissed up after the game, told Miss Cumming to fuck off, vomited all over his jotters, and got us all called up in front of the headmaster. And it wasn’t even a decent game.
marla was never going to find it easy. she was the first black kid at our primary school in the 1970s. we treated her with the usual respect accorded to people of different ethnic and cultural blackgrounds: we would run round shouting "blacky sambo" and claimed that she smelled of poo. which was perhaps a bit harsh for a skinny girl of an already nervous disposition. but what the heck, there were more of us.
marla's bottom was the name given to the "chocolate" pudding that appeared in the school canteen once a week. this brown sugar-laden gunk came on a cardboard base with shaving foam on top. it was marginally better than damson pudding, which was on the same base, was translucent purple and had plastic film in (purporting to be damson skin).
but the canteen wasn't the only place we saw marla's bottom. one break time the whole school gathered round in the top playground while someone (he'll remain nameless - i think he's a bank manager now) de-bagged marla and displayed her bottoms, front and back, to the assembled throng. marla didn't come back to school after that.
personally, i blame the sugar in the dessert.
marla's bottom was the name given to the "chocolate" pudding that appeared in the school canteen once a week. this brown sugar-laden gunk came on a cardboard base with shaving foam on top. it was marginally better than damson pudding, which was on the same base, was translucent purple and had plastic film in (purporting to be damson skin).
but the canteen wasn't the only place we saw marla's bottom. one break time the whole school gathered round in the top playground while someone (he'll remain nameless - i think he's a bank manager now) de-bagged marla and displayed her bottoms, front and back, to the assembled throng. marla didn't come back to school after that.
personally, i blame the sugar in the dessert.
Marlon Hardon(pending)
After Marlon got fished out of the swimming pool when
Abbreviated to 'A Marlon'. Term used to describe a stiffy of particularly monstrous proportions.
The unfortunate who accidentally coined this phrase did so during a school swimming competition. He was swimming in one of the events specially organised for crap swimmers. Naturally, he got about half-a-length in the pool before getting into trouble. He was uncerimoniously removed from the pool by a teacher. After which, in front of all of the school pupils, their parents and all of the teachers he rolled onto his back to display a hardon of maypole proportions.
He left the school shortly after but lived on in legend. A child who truly knew embarassment.
Abbreviated to 'A Marlon'. Term used to describe a stiffy of particularly monstrous proportions.
The unfortunate who accidentally coined this phrase did so during a school swimming competition. He was swimming in one of the events specially organised for crap swimmers. Naturally, he got about half-a-length in the pool before getting into trouble. He was uncerimoniously removed from the pool by a teacher. After which, in front of all of the school pupils, their parents and all of the teachers he rolled onto his back to display a hardon of maypole proportions.
He left the school shortly after but lived on in legend. A child who truly knew embarassment.
Here is an old joke that I cannot fathom to this day. Please help me fathom it.
An Englishman, Scotsman and Irishman enter a haunted house which contains a single slice of Marmite-slathered bread. As the Englishman hungrily reaches for the snack, a terrifying voice booms, "I told you once, I told you twice: do not eat that Marmite slice!" The Scotsman, too, is frightened away from the slice; but the foolhardy Irishman consumes it, whereupon the voice sniggers, "I told you once, I told you twice: I wiped my bum on that Marmite slice."
Of course it is funny that the Irish ate a poo, but the joke is not satisfying, in millions of ways.
1. Whose was the mysterious voice? Why did a voice poo on the bread? And - crucially - how did three sane men mistake the poo for Marmite?
1,000,000. For the first two cycles of the joke, he hadn't told us twice, and for the very first, he hadn't even told us once. Changing the words from "told" to "warn" doesn't suddenly reset the counter. Or does it? Frankly I'm drunk.
What this joke proves, conclusively, is that Irishes eating a poo is funnier than common sense.
An Englishman, Scotsman and Irishman enter a haunted house which contains a single slice of Marmite-slathered bread. As the Englishman hungrily reaches for the snack, a terrifying voice booms, "I told you once, I told you twice: do not eat that Marmite slice!" The Scotsman, too, is frightened away from the slice; but the foolhardy Irishman consumes it, whereupon the voice sniggers, "I told you once, I told you twice: I wiped my bum on that Marmite slice."
Of course it is funny that the Irish ate a poo, but the joke is not satisfying, in millions of ways.
1. Whose was the mysterious voice? Why did a voice poo on the bread? And - crucially - how did three sane men mistake the poo for Marmite?
1,000,000. For the first two cycles of the joke, he hadn't told us twice, and for the very first, he hadn't even told us once. Changing the words from "told" to "warn" doesn't suddenly reset the counter. Or does it? Frankly I'm drunk.
What this joke proves, conclusively, is that Irishes eating a poo is funnier than common sense.
Mars bar party(rejected)
An alcohol based 'dating' scenario where the guys all drew lots to find out which girl they would be paired off with. They then had to eat a Mars bar without using their hands, which was 'hidden' inside the girl.
Yet another joyful urban myth that left children agog, the Mars Bar Party was briefly the talk of every town.
This Roman-esque orgy of an event involved lots of women willing to pop Mars Bars (lower rent Taxi or 5-4-3-2-1 parties were relatively scarce) inside themselves, to be eaten by the lucky boys in attendance. If there were enough women, some boys might even get two Mars Bars - yum!
A well-developed fantasy given our age; very few of us had sticky dreams by this stage. The one function this urban myth briefly served was to cause any girl seen eating a Mars Bar to be instantly labelled an orgy-crazed cock-demon, in so many words.
This Roman-esque orgy of an event involved lots of women willing to pop Mars Bars (lower rent Taxi or 5-4-3-2-1 parties were relatively scarce) inside themselves, to be eaten by the lucky boys in attendance. If there were enough women, some boys might even get two Mars Bars - yum!
A well-developed fantasy given our age; very few of us had sticky dreams by this stage. The one function this urban myth briefly served was to cause any girl seen eating a Mars Bar to be instantly labelled an orgy-crazed cock-demon, in so many words.
In the 6th form we were cursed with Mr. Allen, not just old and a drunk but a lech as well. He had a "thing" for my best friend. When she had a cold he used to make her read more cos she had "such a sexy voice". Top moment of the year was when she was a bit off colour and he offered to buy her a mars bar. We had hours of fun with this, like pondering what he wanted to do with her and such a chocolatey item. Until she started crying. And cried pretty much every time anyone said aforementioned confectionary by name. For ages.
It's still a bit of a touchy subject.
It's still a bit of a touchy subject.
Do not admit to learning any martial art, unless you are quite prepared, and physically able, to follow it up. The smallest kid in our year, sick of being the victim, screamed "I've learned tae-kwon do" as his ritualised and half-hearted bullying session began.
To astonished looks from his assailants, he proceeded to strike a number of ridiculous Bruce Lee style poses, while going an unhealthy shade of red. His mastery of the ancient Korean martial art was such that the first punch laid him out. Then, everyone beat him up. Only suddenly, it wasn't quite so half-hearted.
(Thanks to Benzaemon Benzaemon for pointing out that Tae Kwon Do is Korean, not Japanese. Heaven forfend that there should EVER be an error of fact in this - the most thoroughly researched dictionary of bullshit on the internet)
To astonished looks from his assailants, he proceeded to strike a number of ridiculous Bruce Lee style poses, while going an unhealthy shade of red. His mastery of the ancient Korean martial art was such that the first punch laid him out. Then, everyone beat him up. Only suddenly, it wasn't quite so half-hearted.
(Thanks to Benzaemon Benzaemon for pointing out that Tae Kwon Do is Korean, not Japanese. Heaven forfend that there should EVER be an error of fact in this - the most thoroughly researched dictionary of bullshit on the internet)
Martin(pending)
We had a boy at primary school called Martin. He was unusual in that he looked like a barrel with a mole's head with really short black hair, and STANK of SHIT. Most of the class decided he shat and pissed himself every morning before school so he would get more attention... stinky fat bugger
Martin's willie(deleted)
(Scene: INT, night. A cabin at school camp)
Three 11-year-old boys are in their beds. A fourth, Martin Peden, is getting undressed. Mooney and Dunion are discussing The Who's masterpiece rock opera, Tommy. Andy Lees, the school's gargantuan but oddly amiable pituitary case (later a contestant on Gladiators) is staring at the ceiling as usual.
Then, suddenly, apropos of nothing and in a strange high voice, Andy squeals out:
"MARTIN'S GOT A WILLIE!!!"
(Scene: EXT, night. A school camp in the Trossachs)
"-illie" echoes around the cabins. A flock of startled wood pigeons flings itself out of its treetop roost.
(Scene: INT, night. Girls' cabin in the same camp)
Sarah Ainslie: Really? Martin? Who knew?
The following day, the aforementioned Dunion and Mooney devised a series of critically-acclaimed cartoon strips entitled "The Adventures of Martin's Willie", in which Mr Peden's disembodied member crawled around like a worm with a big grin on its face, solving crimes and whatnot.
Three 11-year-old boys are in their beds. A fourth, Martin Peden, is getting undressed. Mooney and Dunion are discussing The Who's masterpiece rock opera, Tommy. Andy Lees, the school's gargantuan but oddly amiable pituitary case (later a contestant on Gladiators) is staring at the ceiling as usual.
Then, suddenly, apropos of nothing and in a strange high voice, Andy squeals out:
"MARTIN'S GOT A WILLIE!!!"
(Scene: EXT, night. A school camp in the Trossachs)
"-illie" echoes around the cabins. A flock of startled wood pigeons flings itself out of its treetop roost.
(Scene: INT, night. Girls' cabin in the same camp)
Sarah Ainslie: Really? Martin? Who knew?
The following day, the aforementioned Dunion and Mooney devised a series of critically-acclaimed cartoon strips entitled "The Adventures of Martin's Willie", in which Mr Peden's disembodied member crawled around like a worm with a big grin on its face, solving crimes and whatnot.
Martins Christmas(deleted)
We had a guy called Martin in our class. We then found a book in the library entitled 'Martins Christmas' about a boy who got a teddy bear or something for Christmas. We took the book back to class and spent weeks waving it around and shouting "MARRRTINS CHRISTMAS!" until he psyched on us and the teacher told us off.
marvelous sewing(rejected)
In a quieter moment, in the fifth form cloakroom when boredom was upon us.
Looked around and spotted Adrian Davis's parka coat.
I grabbed one arm, my mate grabbed the other and in some sort of miracle way it split exactly in two, to this day i still cant believe it tore so perfectly. We put it back, on two seperate pegs.
Even more amazing, he wore it to school the next day, his mother was a dab hand with the ol needle and thread.
Looked around and spotted Adrian Davis's parka coat.
I grabbed one arm, my mate grabbed the other and in some sort of miracle way it split exactly in two, to this day i still cant believe it tore so perfectly. We put it back, on two seperate pegs.
Even more amazing, he wore it to school the next day, his mother was a dab hand with the ol needle and thread.
Mary Mary(deleted)
Mary, Mary quite cunthairy
How does your cunthair grow?
Repeatedly sang to the local stiggy girl after she had showed us her hairy minge at primary school.. Over developed for an 8 year old she was.
How does your cunthair grow?
Repeatedly sang to the local stiggy girl after she had showed us her hairy minge at primary school.. Over developed for an 8 year old she was.
Mary Mary incident(deleted)
What do you think? I kind of like the 'quite cunt hairy' line, but I dunno if it's good enough overall. It needs a good edit, that's for sure. And a change to the subject title.
So, Mary was a qgirl at my primary school. At the time the incident happened, the word Cunt was passing around the school roughly about the same speed as lice. Mary, although she looked like a horse/crack whore, was eight years old and VERY developed. So.. one time in the middle of the playground she decided to show us her minge and baps. Which of course, after the initial curisosity had passed, freaked everyone out.
We then set about a song in the theme of Mary Mary quite contrary to mark the occasion:
Mary Mary, quite cunt hairy,
How does your cunt hair grow?
With funny smells and shotgun shells
And that's as far as it got
Feel free to use/delete/ridicule as fit
Cheers,
Garth
Mary Mo(deleted)
There's probably other entries like this, but I remembered a scary game at my school where there was apparently a ghost called Mary Mo, and if you stood in front of a mirror and said her name ten times you would come back with dark lines under your eyes.
It was a load of rubbish obviously, but the number of times someone came back from the loo and said they'd done it, and the number of "Your eyes look well darker!" responses they would get, even from me who couldnt see anything.
It was a load of rubbish obviously, but the number of times someone came back from the loo and said they'd done it, and the number of "Your eyes look well darker!" responses they would get, even from me who couldnt see anything.
If Mary Poppins had been released in 1934 instead of 30 years later, the unofficial anthem of the SS would surely have been;
Let's go fry a kike
Let's set them all alight
Let's go fry a kike
And send them roaring
Up to the atmosphere
Until the race is clear
Oh let's go fry a kike
This does nothing for the claims that Walt Disney held anti-semitic views. It doesn't really do me any favours, either.
Let's go fry a kike
Let's set them all alight
Let's go fry a kike
And send them roaring
Up to the atmosphere
Until the race is clear
Oh let's go fry a kike
This does nothing for the claims that Walt Disney held anti-semitic views. It doesn't really do me any favours, either.