| Report for Faye Wickham | |
|---|---|
| Approved stories | 3 |
| Rejected stories | 3 |
| Deleted stories (hidden) | 11 |
| Summary | Mean Boy |
The poor tormented soul that was Ashleigh Bowers. He was violent, had b.o and weird, so, naturally, we didn't like him. One day, at breaktime, me and my nieve chums, set about making up a song. Tje finished product must be sung to to the tune of YMCA and is strangely catchy.
Bowers, in the middle of a field
Bowers, his stink is a shield
Bowers, you better go to the store, and get some more deodourant
bowers, scares the ducks
bowers doesnt know how to f*ck
thats about it... says a lot about our sex education. We got dinner detention for a week, that was about it... everyone sung it for ages. and its now considered a classic in my school.
Bowers, in the middle of a field
Bowers, his stink is a shield
Bowers, you better go to the store, and get some more deodourant
bowers, scares the ducks
bowers doesnt know how to f*ck
thats about it... says a lot about our sex education. We got dinner detention for a week, that was about it... everyone sung it for ages. and its now considered a classic in my school.
We also had a stinking drain in the middle of the playground. The smell was nearly as bad as that of ashleigh bowers, we used to throw stuff into it such as doritos and dolly mixtures, when we left it was a stinking rotting cesspit of leftovers from the kitchen and mouldy doritos. We named it the ashleigh pit, such an original name.
....or your ink cartridge runs out if you bought the cheapo skanky ones from the corner shop. You were a skank if you did that.
Our riding school, in which the best girls wrapped jumpers around their waists and were ridden by a girl holding the arms, came under attack. Our innocent adventures were legendarym until two girls, who didn't seem to harbour any equine aspirations whatsoever, called themselves Trixy and the Magic Mule, and attacked the poor, popular horses. Obviously not in with the Cheshire Set.
We solved this problem by throwing stones at them, and calling them "common".
We solved this problem by throwing stones at them, and calling them "common".
The acrophiliac song. For those of you who don't know, an acrophiliac is someone who has sexual intercourse with the dead.
My name is jack,
I'm an acrophiliac
I fuck dead bodies
When they are cremated
I get frustrated
Cos there aint no lust,
In fucking dust
my name is gus
im an acrophilius
I fuck my mother
and suck my brother
When they die - I wont cry
Cos just like jack
Im an acrophiliac
Don't tell him, readers!
My name is jack,
I'm an acrophiliac
I fuck dead bodies
When they are cremated
I get frustrated
Cos there aint no lust,
In fucking dust
my name is gus
im an acrophilius
I fuck my mother
and suck my brother
When they die - I wont cry
Cos just like jack
Im an acrophiliac
You know how you should never laugh at someone for pronouncing a word wrong, because it means they learned the word from a book? (Instead, you should simply laugh at them for reading books.) Well, this is the opposite: you must absolutely laugh at this guy for thinking "a necrophile" is "an acrophile", because it means he only has oral experience of necrophilia. By which I mean he sucked off my dead dad
Listening to your english teacher call his fellow staffmate a 'fucking wanker' is just heavenly.