| Report for Ponky Ponk | |
|---|---|
| Approved stories | 17 |
| Pending stories | 1 |
| Rejected stories | 9 |
| Deleted stories | 10 |
| Summary | Shows promise |
An alternative version to Uncle Bob sucking his nob was "Uncle Frank is having a wank".
This was a game I had for the Commodore 64 that a friend of mine got from his German pen pal. (This pen pal would go on to supply us with Neo Nazi action games involving mass Jew slaughtering, but that's another story which is best left alone.)
Sex Games featured 5 rounds where you had to rhythmically move the joystick back and forth and control the beatifully animated characters in various positions of sexual congress. When the orgasm bar reached the end you would go onto the next level. Or, you would lose a life if the time was up.
The last round featured 6 men and a lady on all fours in a mega spit roast / do the Conga / gangbang.
It was quite embarrassing when I eventually came home one day to find my mum and sister playing it.
"Digital Fucking" was the first piece of computer smut I ever saw. Also on the C64, it was a blocky digitised photo with about 3 frames of animation and a crackly sampled moaning noise. In fact, it looked a bit like those crappy Nokia logos, but full screen and about 20 years ahead of its time.
Sex Games featured 5 rounds where you had to rhythmically move the joystick back and forth and control the beatifully animated characters in various positions of sexual congress. When the orgasm bar reached the end you would go onto the next level. Or, you would lose a life if the time was up.
The last round featured 6 men and a lady on all fours in a mega spit roast / do the Conga / gangbang.
It was quite embarrassing when I eventually came home one day to find my mum and sister playing it.
"Digital Fucking" was the first piece of computer smut I ever saw. Also on the C64, it was a blocky digitised photo with about 3 frames of animation and a crackly sampled moaning noise. In fact, it looked a bit like those crappy Nokia logos, but full screen and about 20 years ahead of its time.
This is exactly the kind of blinkered toss that us C64 owners had to listen to all the fucking time... Stop me if I'm wrong. The only reason why people had Spectrums in the first place is because their parents bought them one as soon as it came out, which was before the Commodore did.
Not being allowed to have another (better)computer,(ie. a C64) AS WELL. I mean that would be greedy. And I mean what's wrong with your other computer any way young man. We only got it for you last Christmas, you ungrateful little wretch.
Not being allowed to have another (better)computer,(ie. a C64) AS WELL. I mean that would be greedy. And I mean what's wrong with your other computer any way young man. We only got it for you last Christmas, you ungrateful little wretch.
Our school thought that it would be good to supply everybody with electronic Casio keyboards for music lessons. We found that if the whole class kept simultaneously pressing the demo button at full volume, the traumatic psychological effects of a plinky-plinky, bossa nova version of "Oh Susannah" on the music teacher were devastating. This technique is now used by the American military when conducting sieges of terrorist hideouts.
An extra violent version of Mallet's Mallet (From Timmy Mallet's Wacaday)
Kevin Maddock (a.k.a. Maggot) was always the quizmaster, hence the name of the game. He used his fists or sometimes a stick instead of a big foamy mallet.
Kevin Maddock (a.k.a. Maggot) was always the quizmaster, hence the name of the game. He used his fists or sometimes a stick instead of a big foamy mallet.
Angel's Mum was an older girl in our school. She wasn't my mum, of course, but she was judged enough like her to warrant the nickname.
She died in her sleep the night before an exam, which was absolutely awful. Almost instantly, I was being equally consoled and ridiculed for having a dead mum.
She died in her sleep the night before an exam, which was absolutely awful. Almost instantly, I was being equally consoled and ridiculed for having a dead mum.
Crystals was a local minibus firm which mostly provided transport for special kids. We shared a similar experience on a trip to the zoo.
I still feel sorry now, for the poor sod that had to clean up our saliva afterwards.
I still feel sorry now, for the poor sod that had to clean up our saliva afterwards.
We thought that replacing Onward Christian soldiers with "Onward fascist bastards" was really right on, and would bring down capitalism and organised religion.
It just made us sound like Rik from the Young Ones.
It just made us sound like Rik from the Young Ones.
An English teacher at our school who was about 4ft tall, pug-faced and had straggly shoulder-length grey hair.
We thought she looked like Dungeon Master from the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon. Thinking back, she really did look like Dungeon Master from the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon.
We thought she looked like Dungeon Master from the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon. Thinking back, she really did look like Dungeon Master from the Dungeons & Dragons cartoon.
Smartarse game makers eventually got wise to this.
>> pick up magic wand
I do not know how to "pick up magic wand"
>>fuck right off
I feel there is no need for such language
>>up yours
I cannot go there
>> pick up magic wand
I do not know how to "pick up magic wand"
>>fuck right off
I feel there is no need for such language
>>up yours
I cannot go there
Smartarse game makers eventually got wise to this.
>> pick up magic wand
I do not know how to "pick up magic wand"
>>fuck right off
I feel there is no need for such language
>>up yours
I cannot go there
>> pick up magic wand
I do not know how to "pick up magic wand"
>>fuck right off
I feel there is no need for such language
>>up yours
I cannot go there
Fictional pop group featured in the Longmans Audio Visual French books.
Jean-Paul et Claudette would purchase "le dernier disque de Telephone" every fricking Saturday, without fail. If they really wanted to live life on the edge, they went swimming afterwards.
Jean-Paul et Claudette would purchase "le dernier disque de Telephone" every fricking Saturday, without fail. If they really wanted to live life on the edge, they went swimming afterwards.
This one involved the use of physical comedy.
Simply pinch and stretch some skin at either side of your neck with each hand and say,
Q: What's this?
A: An Ethiopian eating a peanut.
Simply pinch and stretch some skin at either side of your neck with each hand and say,
Q: What's this?
A: An Ethiopian eating a peanut.
- Nibble off one edge of a Flying Saucer making a hole exposing the sherbet inside
- Nibble a smaller hole on the opposite side
- Place between lips, aim larger hole at victim's face and blow sherbert with a swift, well-aimed blast
- Hilarity and temporary blindness ensues
The hand action required when shooting at basketball, according to one of our P.E. teachers. A flap of the wrist in the well-known 'hello sailor' style.
This is what would happen if they let them in the Army.
This is what would happen if they let them in the Army.
Fucking bollocks Brian, or F.B. for short was this massive retarded bloke in the year above us. If Joey Deacon was a caveman and supported Millwall, he would have spoken like Brian.
He was once overheard saying,
"Fucking bollerrcks. Fucking bollerrcks" in his Mongo voice over and over again for no obvious reason, other than to give people someone new to do impressions of for several weeks.
He was once overheard saying,
"Fucking bollerrcks. Fucking bollerrcks" in his Mongo voice over and over again for no obvious reason, other than to give people someone new to do impressions of for several weeks.
I think you'll find that exactly the same thing happened to Phoebe Kates in the film 'Gremlins'. Your friend is a rotten fibber.
Have I heard this before? Is it a comedy routine?
There's this gem from the bible.
"And Onan knew that the seed should not be his; and it came to pass, when he went in unto his brother's wife, that he spilled it on the ground, lest that he should give seed to his brother."
Mr. Onan should have had the common courtesy to cum on his brother's wife's tits, instead of leaving her to hoover it up from the ground.
What Lisa shouldn't have said to the girl in our class who's younger sister had a deformed jaw, unless she genuinely wanted to make her cry all afternoon and be sent home.
When graffiti went from "Wayne is a bender" to being street and hip hop, I thought I'd have a go at scrawling my new tag on a desk.
Looking a bit like Chinese writing and generally being quite shit, I should have realised that somebody would write "wanker" next to my effort with an arrow pointing to it.
Looking a bit like Chinese writing and generally being quite shit, I should have realised that somebody would write "wanker" next to my effort with an arrow pointing to it.
Inexplicably patronising statement made by most teachers when they turn the lights down to show the class a video about factories.
Realising even this patronising statement was a little highbrow for the more retarded pupils, they would normally add - and that means without talking.
Realising even this patronising statement was a little highbrow for the more retarded pupils, they would normally add - and that means without talking.
Also known as Men cap, named after the charity of similar name and the appearance of being associated with said charity when this cap is worn.
Often devastating put-down not very cunningly disguised as a gesture of pity.
e.g.
"What are you getting your mum for Mother's Day?
Oh sorry, I forgot. She's dead isn't she?"
e.g.
"What are you getting your mum for Mother's Day?
Oh sorry, I forgot. She's dead isn't she?"
A handy P.S. to any partonising put-down is the word "Bless" accompanied by a smile and a cocking of the head
Glass pipettes with the black, squeezy rubber ball on the end have a range of up to 30m with pin-point accuracy.
Ooh... ahh,
I lost my bra,
I left my knickers in my boyfriend's car.
This weighty verse differs from the infantile whimsy of ta-ra-ra-bum-di-ay, in that it contains a powerful moral element.
In ta-ra-ra-bum-di-ay, the loss of the knickers was spontaneous, and not the result of moral turpitude. As a result, the knickers were returned by the gracious Fates.
Here, however, the knickers are lost as the direct result of pre-marital sex. Notice that the loss of a bra - a powerful symbol of female sexuality - compounds the devastation. Neither garment is (at least, explicitly) returned, leaving us to assume that they were either found by a slack-jawed vicar, who - mistaking their function - used them as hanging baskets in his garden.
Also note that only the woman is punished. That is because women are temptresses, and all sex and betrayal in the world is a result of their vile chicanery and desire for ever-more children, as documented in Ace of Bass's hit single "All That She Wants Is Another Baby".
I lost my bra,
I left my knickers in my boyfriend's car.
This weighty verse differs from the infantile whimsy of ta-ra-ra-bum-di-ay, in that it contains a powerful moral element.
In ta-ra-ra-bum-di-ay, the loss of the knickers was spontaneous, and not the result of moral turpitude. As a result, the knickers were returned by the gracious Fates.
Here, however, the knickers are lost as the direct result of pre-marital sex. Notice that the loss of a bra - a powerful symbol of female sexuality - compounds the devastation. Neither garment is (at least, explicitly) returned, leaving us to assume that they were either found by a slack-jawed vicar, who - mistaking their function - used them as hanging baskets in his garden.
Also note that only the woman is punished. That is because women are temptresses, and all sex and betrayal in the world is a result of their vile chicanery and desire for ever-more children, as documented in Ace of Bass's hit single "All That She Wants Is Another Baby".
This reworking was sung as a duet. The second artiste played the part of the angry dog owner.
There's a voice that keeps on calling me.
(Rover!)
Down the road, that's where I'll always be.
(Bad dog)
With every stop I take, I make a new friend.
(Here boy!)
I bite your bum, you turn around and I'm gone again.
There's a voice that keeps on calling me.
(Rover!)
Down the road, that's where I'll always be.
(Bad dog)
With every stop I take, I make a new friend.
(Here boy!)
I bite your bum, you turn around and I'm gone again.
In the likely event that nobody would take any notice of this, they would also add,
"Would you do that in your own home?"
"Would you do that in your own home?"
These magic felt tip pens were able to make fountain pen ink disappear. The fact that you couldn't write on that area of page once applied meant that they were only really useful in sabotaging other people's exercise books.
You could;
Scribble on a clean area of page rendering it impossible to write on.
Rub out bits of somebody elses homework, and render the page impossible to write on.
Execute a full page phallus or the word 'fuck' in negative on a full page of writing.
You could;
Scribble on a clean area of page rendering it impossible to write on.
Rub out bits of somebody elses homework, and render the page impossible to write on.
Execute a full page phallus or the word 'fuck' in negative on a full page of writing.
A wooden measuring wheel on a stick. With this ingenius device, everyone would eventually get their golden chance to measure the length of the playground.
Envious fellow pupils could only look on helplessly, and occasionally point out of the window.
Envious fellow pupils could only look on helplessly, and occasionally point out of the window.
For all intents and purposes, your friend is suddenly called Jack and you haven't seen him for a while.
Hello Jack, how's your back? *Look, there's Jack. Give him a big hearty slap on the back.*
I haven't seen you for ears and ears... *It's so good to see Jack again. Shake that man's head by the ears, like you just don't care.*
...but I still nose you. *Put it there, Jack. Put your nose there and let me grab you by the nose. Grrrrrrr, you*
Hello Jack, how's your back? *Look, there's Jack. Give him a big hearty slap on the back.*
I haven't seen you for ears and ears... *It's so good to see Jack again. Shake that man's head by the ears, like you just don't care.*
...but I still nose you. *Put it there, Jack. Put your nose there and let me grab you by the nose. Grrrrrrr, you*
Most young adults would have grown out of playing with Plasticene, but it had a brief renaissance for all of one afternoon in 3rd year juniors.
This was when we decided to make explicitly detailed models of Steven Williams' mum having it off with a big black man.
This was when we decided to make explicitly detailed models of Steven Williams' mum having it off with a big black man.
A series of GCSE revision books. Owning any book in the series was an admission of being an overenthusiastic gaymosexual bumdoctor.
Ponky - Put the necessary html code in to make the verse appear one line under another and send it back. Then I'll approve it. It's no worse than Mansh's previous effort. Hear that, Andy? Your rain-bone section is SHIT.
It started off shit. I'm hoping this will save it.
If you want anything done around here.
Rod and Jane are sixtynineing,
Freddy cumming high.
Jane is on the blob again,
And shits in Bungle's eye.
The thing is, you see, Bungle liked it all along.
Fin
- The most evil sounding of all the musical instruments, it is played almost exclusively in schools, and sometimes by bearded folk musicians.Everyone must learn how to play 'London's Burning' on the recorder. The hardest bit is 'fire! fire!', which is best tackled by taking all of your fingers off the holes and then blowing as hard as you can.Geeks sometimes get to play one of those funny big recorders.No matter how talented the recorderist is, the first note on the chorus of 'Lord of the Dance' must be a shrill 'bum note' (see 'London's Burning').Geeks also turn up to lessons with their own fancy wooden recorder from home, while the rest of the class has to make do with a plastic one with teeth marks on it.Every parent dreads school concerts and the Harvest Festival, as there is every possibility that one of the first year classes will play an excruciatingly slow rendition of 'I am the Lord of the Fucking Dance' on recorders.
Also see also
What's the time?
Half past nine!
Hang your knickers on the line!
If a copper comes along
Hurry up and put them on!
Of course, this was back in the day when hanging your underwear out to dry was a civil offence. Not wearing any knickers at all (because you only have the one pair, and they're hanging on the line) was especially frowned upon.
What's the time?
Half past nine!
Hang your knickers on the line!
If a copper comes along
Hurry up and put them on!
Of course, this was back in the day when hanging your underwear out to dry was a civil offence. Not wearing any knickers at all (because you only have the one pair, and they're hanging on the line) was especially frowned upon.
For good friends and for good food
We thank you, Lord
Amen
Compulsory prayer said before dinner at my primary school. To be said in a mindless drone, reminiscent of, "Good mor-ning, Mis-sus Jones".
More accurate would have been;
For the wondrous bounty
That is shepherds pie
Left over from last week
And for letting me sit next to Peter
Who smells of cheese biscuits
We thank you, Lord
Amen
We thank you, Lord
Amen
Compulsory prayer said before dinner at my primary school. To be said in a mindless drone, reminiscent of, "Good mor-ning, Mis-sus Jones".
More accurate would have been;
For the wondrous bounty
That is shepherds pie
Left over from last week
And for letting me sit next to Peter
Who smells of cheese biscuits
We thank you, Lord
Amen
Unusually-shaped signs have been specially designed for the River Uck so as to provide no quarter to schoolboys with pen or paint in their hands and a gigantic letter 'F' in their heads.
However, the ever-so-diligent local council failed to recognise that the smutty minds of their schoolkids are not so easily thwarted; our roving reporter provided this photograph of a nearby town sign which shows that they still have some way to go before they can entirely eradicate filth from the streets of East Sussex.
However, the ever-so-diligent local council failed to recognise that the smutty minds of their schoolkids are not so easily thwarted; our roving reporter provided this photograph of a nearby town sign which shows that they still have some way to go before they can entirely eradicate filth from the streets of East Sussex.