New pet adopted by Mrs Reeve's class following the sad demise of the elderly Bobby. Tragically killed on his first time out of the cage after being trodden on by promising ballerina Victoria Robinson.

http://www.comuniq.com/corpinfo/map.htm

During yet another thrilling geography lesson Emma and i noticed that if you cover up Norway, Sweden and Finland look very much like male genitals, honestly!

On my 7th birthday we all went outside and was given a sparkler each. There was this sweet little boy called Chris. I remember the look on his face, the pure fear, then he peed his pants! Poor little boy!

Most unusual scar is a blue blob on my leg.

This is due to the two Amys ("fat" and "tall" respectively) pushing me over a wall when I was a trusting first year walking home with them. Being of a slightly... portly... disposition, and the garden on the other side of the wall being quite a steep hill, I rolled down it rather well and ended up with a pencil lead jammed in my leg. Hence the scar.

I have no idea where the pencil came from, my main theory is that my great weight spinning at such great speed led to some kind of black hole or something, and sucked the pencil out of an alternate universe. Either that or it fell out of my bag.

I think that the kinds of class/ assembly meeting we had in the 80s were testiment to how long the drugs taken in the 70s took to vacate the bloodstreams of our education officials. This is the only explaination I have for the unusual guest speakers I have had to endure in my lifetime. The best of which include the fireman from hell. His speach on fire safety ended with a large picture of a burned to a crisp rabbit in a hutch being passed around the class which made everybody, including the teacher, cry. There was also the man who talked to us about never going on railway lines and never sticking your head out of a moving train. To emphasise his point he showed us a slideshow of dead, decapitated people. But the best by far was the lady who came to talk to us girlies about sex and puberty. She screamed at us for an hour and made us promise to NEVER have sex and to remember that all men want you to get pregnant so they can ruin your life. Then she made us promise to always use tampons wisely (i can only assume this meant to not stick them up your nose, use them as mini nunchuks that kinda thing). Me thinks that someone was not happy with their lot in life!

When i was in primary school there was this dinner lady person that hated kids. i think it was becaue we all used to take the piss out of her and her coat that had a hole in it in the shape of pacman but anyway i think she hit a kid and now she works in a swimming pool, i dont no how that works out but anyway. We graciously gave her the name SCARY MARY!!!

One dark evening I went to the school's Parent and Teacher night with my mother. I was only in year one and was the ripe old age of six and a half.

I felt an unction from my bowels and went off to the school toilet, a brick-walled pathway and cubicle. It was pretty damn dark in there - and scary. I don't remember if it just had no light switch or if I didn't know where it was but I'm thinking the former.

Well, what else would a forward-thinking child do but poo in the corridor? To my mind, I was in the right general area.

As fate would have it, I got to school late the next day for some reason. I arrived just as an impromptu school assembly was being dismissed.

I asked a friend what it was about. He said some kid did a poo in the toilet corridor and the cleaners got upset and the headmistress told off the whole school.

Ironically, she didn't tell off the one kid who actually did it. Until now, I've only ever told this story to my wife but it was over 26 years ago now, I guess it had to come out into the open eventually.

This went around all the schools in our area like wild fire :
Apparently during playtime a blue transit van would come and park up outside the school and the bad clowns would sit and watch to find the easiest target. When the bell went for the end of playtime the clowns would rush out of the van and grab said kid(obv. no one else would notice 'cause they are all too busy going back to class).
The child would then be put in the back of the van and driven around the corner, when the clowns would make the smile, put some wood in the childs mouth and then slash it into a smiley face.

Don't ask me how these bas clowns never got caught because they seemed to go to every school in the country and for some reason it was always a blue transit van they were driving....

We beileved it as 8 year olds...

Cheers
Heather

Any of us at Secondary school around the beginning of the 1990s will surely remember Scatman John and his famous little ditty 'The Scatman'.

To jog your memory - it involved an old bald guy purposefully stuttering along to some rather poor 'rave' beats.

I will try to impersonate:

"I'm a scatman. Diddi, diddi, diddi, dod, dod-dod-dod. Diddi, diddi, diddi, dod, dod-dod-dod. I'm a scatman!"

Little did our innocent minds - happily trying to imitate the 'tune of the times' - realise that somewhere out there a record exec was laughing to himself about schoolchildren metephorically lapping up a song about poo-fetish.

The mind boggles.

A delightful term to use when you are fresh out of insults.
It is meant to suggest that someone is a scrounger.

If they ask for a crisp during morning break they are a Scav. If they have crisps of their own, but they are Tesco value, they are a Scav. If they have Walker's crisps, but its an undesireable flavour (like Ready Salted) they are a Scav.

If you are branded a Scav, there is NOTHING you can do to escape the lable... I was called a Scav by a lad (Warren Triggs - tosser)who lived on a council estate and smealt of wee. His school uniform was too small and he never ate his own food....but still I was the Scav.

And a flea bag for a short while too....but that passed after I shaved the cat

Presumably an etymological progression from the word 'slaps'. Uttered upon administering a particularly satisfying hard slap on the forehead. If you got perfect line and length, the slightly-cupped palm would make contact with the victim's forehead with a resounding 'pop' and long-lasting redness would occur. Doubly successful if performed on Robin Milnes, who posessed an enormous forehead, and was naturally dubbed 'Tefal'.

German for "ice skating". Under no circumstances was anyone ever asked to say it, as everyone would have been all too keen to gain some swearing-in-front-of-the-teacher kudos by pronouncing it "shit-shoe-laufen" while being able to pass it off as an honest mistake.

For a role-play exercise in German class, the pupils had to stand in front of the class and display their new-found knowledge of airport vocabulary. After a short terrorist-and-bomb-style exchange, Sean Wensley and Michael Lancaster shouted "Schnell! Schell!" and ran out of the room. Sean never came back to the class. After that, we had no more role-plays.

fucking will to live, or WHAT?

fuck me. Might give this to cockfingers

Gratefully received. A turd of an entry. Cheers!

A favourite of mine was school assemblies, which were always a serious, dour affair begging to be injected with a little humour - which they occasionally were. These varied from 'doctoring' chairs so that they collapsed halfway through prayers - you always tried to detect a wonky chair as you filed into assembly - to more daring adventures. Two memorable ones are outlined here:
The first involved the head prick-fect who had to a list of boys that were to be called into the head masters office that morning, presumably for a fate worse than being meddle by a priest. This list was drawn up by the school secretary and left in a tray for the head prefect to pick up on his way through. It was a custom to add a funny name to the bottom of this list so that the prefect mad an ass of himself. Sometimes they were just nonsense - "Can Hugh Jarce please see the headmaster afterwards" to the more subtle "The headmaster would like to see Harry Caverty, Wayne Kerr and Mike Hunt immediately". Then you could have fun with Polish/Indian/Pakistani names that either had rude connotations or were just too difficult to read.
The second involved the music at assembly time. Each morning we had to listen to some classical music that would have been considered "dark" if played at a funeral - just what you needed that time of the morning. So it obviously needed changing - and change it we did. This was made possible due to one fact. On old Vinyl records the centre label was in fact multiple layers that could be prised apart if care and some skill was used. So the objective here was to find an unoffensive record (something out of the old man's collection worked ideally as you had unlimited access to it do take off a label - however it was high risk if you knackered the operation and shagged his record - time to blame the cat). Having obtained your inoffensive label that read "Dvorak's 7th Funeral Dirge" you could place it over the top of a completely offensive record, say Never Mind the Bollocks - a common choice, or on one occasion Derek & Clive Ad Nauseam!
The next daring part was to hide near the record player that lurked behind the curtains on the stage. This was risky not only because of the fact that the 6th form prefects were seated behind the headmaster and deputy head and head prick-fect. However those in the know used to use the trap door in the stage floor that was situated right by the record player, allowing enough time to flip the record on top of the boring original and disappear under the stage again before a 6th former prefect would be instructed to put the music on.
The hardest bit was stiffling the laughter under the stage as you heard Dudley Moore saying "This bloke walked up to me in the street and he said 'you cunt'"....invariably the 6th form prefect would be quizzed and conspiracy suspected - until that is one of us was caught in the act!

A headline which appeared in our local paper following the announcement of the closure of our tiny catholic boy's school. The paper reported that the parent/teacher pressure group campaigning to keep the school open had spoken directly to the Pope, who was said to be 'gravely concerned' about the situation.
So concerned was the Pope, that he immediately cancelled all his pending engagements and flew to Droitwich Spa in his private jet, to jolly well give the local authorities what for.
Then the chairman of the pressure group woke up - and the cat was hungry.

A headline which appeared in the local paper following the announcement of the closure of our tiny catholic boy's school. The paper reported that the parent/teacher pressure group campaigning to keep the school open had spoken directly to the Pope who was said to be 'gravely concerned' about the situation.

Yeah, right.

When 3.55 finally came and the school bell chimed, the class would naturally begin to get excited and start to exit the class. Teachers would inevitably say something like 'that bell is for me and not for you', which was invariably bollocks and served no other purpose other than to delay pupils from leaving by about 8 seconds.

The cock of the girls at our school was the biggest bitch in the world - Beverly Allan was her name and she also had the biggest boobs. We were getting changed for P.E and she was bragging how she had these Fab news knickers and we were all a bit envious as they were quite flash (we were all wearing regulation Navy Blue P.E Knickers) First session was long jump - Beverley fancied herself as a bit of a sports queen and pushed to the front, pegged it up to do her long jump and as she landed face down in the sand , her Gym skirt blew over her arse and the elastic on her new Knickers (obviously cheap market rubbish) snapped and the whole class saw her big fat arse!!! She turned round and said she'd beat anyone up who was laughing - we were all pissing our selves so much - even the reacher - that she stomped off, punched the nearest person to her and for some reason, was'nt quite so Cocky after that! HA!

Riding the bus can be extremely boring, so over the years, a group of friends will inevitably end up inventing one or more games.

One game we invented during long bus-rides is called the Screaming Game. Basically, when one notices a nearby car with the window down, or a pedestrian, he sticks his head out the window, stares directly at the victim and screams at the top of his lungs in a very threatening manner. Some victims just laugh. Some victims just get annoyed. But some victims will become extremely startled and maybe, if the player is lucky, scream back at them.

we used to go to swimming lessons on the same buses as the disabled kids used so me and some of my friends would all sit by the windows and put our hands in our jacket sleeves so just our hands would be showing, and we would wave to the passing public with our just our hands just like the flids we used to see on the tv.
tres amusement (not as funny when you think back) but side splitting at the time.

These are sixth formers who can "whoop your ass" at any kind of Dance Dance game. Hell, they can just "whoop your ass" full stop. One of them once busted my head against a computer desk.

A much maligned effort to encourage children to eat school dinners in the mid 90s was the 'School Dinners Are Cool Dinners' advertising regime. It didn't work. I got a T-shirt with the slogan on it which didn't fit my portly frame and thus was burnt and deposited in a corner of the music room.

In Primary School at the end of every Term we had a disco and being 8 he always played the rudist track like "who the fuck is alice" by turd face twat Roy chubby brown and "Horney" which goes "I'm horney, I'm horney, I'm horney, so Horney, horney horney tonight" The DJ also incuraged Drugs And sex but thats another reason why he got sacked. Dirty Pedophile I think hes in jail now"

this is the best! we need MORE! stop being anonymous... we NEED YOU

your turn... and they're not wrong.

Bless. That's actually quite sweet. Cindey is a proper slag, though.

???????????????WTFFFF???????pass this round

This goes in cockfingers as soon as everyone else has laughed and cried at it. ffs.

I absolutely refuse to believe this is anything other than someone taking the piss. I can't have my last remaining sliver of faith in humanity destroyed. Edward's finally found a competitor for 'a time to charish'

well there is a girl named Cindey at our school who usually takes all the boys so they never like aneyone ealse. my friend chealsy has a crush on a boy named Cole and he of corse likes maggey a friend of Cindyes. i like nobodey but that doesnt matter!

I went to one of those state primary schools where they had special classes in 5th and 6th year reserved for gifted students. These were called "Opportunity Classes", and they effectively split the school into two distinct strata: the "OC" students (an academic elite garnered from all over the city) and the "locals" (dumb plebs who were only at the school because they lived up the road).

Once a year, at School Captain election time, various hopefuls would stand up at assembly and pledge to do various things if elected, and inevitably an OC would be voted in - presumably because of their easy confidence, superior rhetorical skills and the fact that they didn't smell of bacon, wear dirty clothes or bring jelly crystals to school for lunch.

"Local" Jeremy Bishop changed all that. In 6th year he got up at assembly and delivered no pledges but simply a blistering tirade against OC domination of the school captaincy, demanding that it was time for a local to have a go. Fellow local students roared their approval, the heady scent of revolution was in the air, the OCs suddenly had visions of themselves being denounced at show trials and beaten to death with agricultural implements.... well, for a few days, anyway, until a special assembly was called, at which the headmaster denounced classist political agitation, and gave an impassioned plea for unity between locals and OCs.

Open warfare was thereby averted, but Comrade Jeremy won the school captaincy.