| Report for space monkey | |
|---|---|
| Approved stories | 4 |
| Rejected stories (hidden) | 3 |
| Deleted stories (hidden) | 6 |
| Summary | Mean Boy |
Down in the valley where nobody goes
There sits *insert name here* without any clothes
Along comes *insert name here* thick as a brick
Down comes his trousers and out comes his prick
He fucked her till her tits turned blue
His prick was black as charcoal
When it got dark he missed his mark
And rammed it up her arsehole.
There sits *insert name here* without any clothes
Along comes *insert name here* thick as a brick
Down comes his trousers and out comes his prick
He fucked her till her tits turned blue
His prick was black as charcoal
When it got dark he missed his mark
And rammed it up her arsehole.
In Yorkshire, 'Jewish' was a synonym for lucky. For example, if one received a chopper for Christmas, you were a Jewish bastard. Similarly 'Jew' could be used as a verb, as in one could 'Jew' a lucky goal. In addition, if one procured goods or services free of charge you could be said to have 'Jewed' them. This was also interchangeable for cheating, especially on your friends; “you just jewed me out of my dinner money!”
Why having the end of your cock chopped off at birth was considered lucky is beyond me.
Why having the end of your cock chopped off at birth was considered lucky is beyond me.
'Dozy' Joe Clayton was the woodwork teacher. His rather too relaxed demeanour can now be attributed to a reliance on high dose tranquillisers, but at the time we thought this was just how he was.
Once, a potentially fatal game of 'chisel throwing' culminated in someone lobbing one at the blackboard, which Joe was writing on at the time. The chisel stuck into the board not a foot from Joe's head, but even this close shave with the grim reaper failed to elevate Joe's pulse. He slowly turned around, his face as calm as a Hindu cow and said:
"Don't throw the chisels, boys. You will blunt them."
Respect due.
Once, a potentially fatal game of 'chisel throwing' culminated in someone lobbing one at the blackboard, which Joe was writing on at the time. The chisel stuck into the board not a foot from Joe's head, but even this close shave with the grim reaper failed to elevate Joe's pulse. He slowly turned around, his face as calm as a Hindu cow and said:
"Don't throw the chisels, boys. You will blunt them."
Respect due.
Dozy Joe had a son at the school. 'Kitty' Clayton, so called as he was weak as a kitten due to being a haemophiliac. One geography field trip I shared a dorm with Kitty and one night we amused ourselves making up a song about him:
Kitty bleeds a lot
Because his blood won't clot
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah
He could fill a super tampax
With Syphilis and Anthrax
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah
His mummy scratched her twat
And out popped Kitty Cat
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah
I found out some years ago that Kitty died of AIDS which he had caught from piss poor quality NHS blood products. Poor cunt.
Kitty bleeds a lot
Because his blood won't clot
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah
He could fill a super tampax
With Syphilis and Anthrax
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah
His mummy scratched her twat
And out popped Kitty Cat
Nah nah nah nah nah nah nah nah
I found out some years ago that Kitty died of AIDS which he had caught from piss poor quality NHS blood products. Poor cunt.