| Report for Rancid Niblic the IIIrd | |
|---|---|
| Approved stories | 1 |
| Rejected stories | 3 |
| Deleted stories | 2 |
| Summary | Mean Boy |
A quaint game played in the primary 5 swimming pool changing rooms.
Greg would put both legs through his swimming goggles and then pull them up to his waist, where they nestled just above his winky. This would miraculously make the face of a wizened old man (wearing goggles, of course) who had a long nose (about the length of a 9 year old's winky) and a wrinkly chin. Greg would then dance around the changing room as the rest of the class would sing a rousing chorus of
Boh-oh-ong-go JIM!And his peppery penGUIN!".
I have to confess to being at a loss as where a peppery penguin came into the equation.
Rumors that Greg made one of the girls kiss bongo jim on the nose are unconfirmed. Ooh la la!
Greg would put both legs through his swimming goggles and then pull them up to his waist, where they nestled just above his winky. This would miraculously make the face of a wizened old man (wearing goggles, of course) who had a long nose (about the length of a 9 year old's winky) and a wrinkly chin. Greg would then dance around the changing room as the rest of the class would sing a rousing chorus of
Boh-oh-ong-go JIM!And his peppery penGUIN!".
I have to confess to being at a loss as where a peppery penguin came into the equation.
Rumors that Greg made one of the girls kiss bongo jim on the nose are unconfirmed. Ooh la la!
This came in strange bottles that had a curved tube on the top as shown here.
This meant that it was possible to hide a bottle in your trouser pocket with just this tube/nozzle poking out. It was then hugely satisfying to wander over to year-retard Duncan Sharp and, whilst pretending to examine his chemistry experiment, slip the end of the nozzle into his pocket and squeeze the bottle. A casual escape was possible as it took a good few seconds for the water to soak through his pocket. After retreating to a alibi-friendly distance you could look on in mirth as Duncan suddenly became aware of a cold, wet patch spreading through his y-fronts and down his trouser leg, mystified as to where it came from.
We did this to him every lesson until he realised what was going on and shouted at us whenever we came near him. We then had to move on to the rest of the class until the 4 water bottle abusers were almost permanently alone at the back of the class as noone would trust us to be near them.
These bottles are also good when the nozzle is removed as you can then put them against a desk, punch them and then watch as a centimetre thick, metre long jet of water arcs across the room (like one of those jumping fountain things in Disney World) and hits your friend at the next desk full in the face. It is also funny when said friend is asked by the teacher why he is soaking wet and he is forced to reply "I spilt a beaker of water. Yes, over my head".
This meant that it was possible to hide a bottle in your trouser pocket with just this tube/nozzle poking out. It was then hugely satisfying to wander over to year-retard Duncan Sharp and, whilst pretending to examine his chemistry experiment, slip the end of the nozzle into his pocket and squeeze the bottle. A casual escape was possible as it took a good few seconds for the water to soak through his pocket. After retreating to a alibi-friendly distance you could look on in mirth as Duncan suddenly became aware of a cold, wet patch spreading through his y-fronts and down his trouser leg, mystified as to where it came from.
We did this to him every lesson until he realised what was going on and shouted at us whenever we came near him. We then had to move on to the rest of the class until the 4 water bottle abusers were almost permanently alone at the back of the class as noone would trust us to be near them.
These bottles are also good when the nozzle is removed as you can then put them against a desk, punch them and then watch as a centimetre thick, metre long jet of water arcs across the room (like one of those jumping fountain things in Disney World) and hits your friend at the next desk full in the face. It is also funny when said friend is asked by the teacher why he is soaking wet and he is forced to reply "I spilt a beaker of water. Yes, over my head".
I created this beast of a weapon to combat the growing craze of bringing black widow catapaults into school, claiming that i could make something far more dangerous and less likely to be confiscated if seen. It consisted of the outer case of a Berol Colour Broad pen (look it up on their website) with 2 holes drilled on opposite sides at the top. A rubber band was then cut so it made a single strand and then fed through these holes, coming out at the bottom of the pen case. The band was tied to two bits of plastic (broken off a biro) to keep them in place. A pencil was then inserted into the top of the case and pushed out the bottom, where you could hold on to it and pull back further. Aim and let go. Here is a diagram:
This could be insanely powerful and was made even deadlier by getting a bit of bamboo (the kind that gardeners use to make plants grow or something) and sharpening it in a pencil sharpener.
Since these were so easy to make, loads of people copied them. It became hilariously funny to steal your neighbours pens and pencils, when in class, and fire them straight up into the ceiling tiles. This would result in a satisfying thump as the pencil went straight through the tile, hit the roof and then was lost forever in the space inbetween. Many teachers would get faintly puzzled at the strange thumping noises from the roof and the gleeful expression on one pupils face as his neighbour had to ask to borrow ANOTHER pencil.
This all had to end when, in an art class, boxes of coloured pencils were handed out and a class of 20 boys proceeded to lose them all in the ceiling. It was like popcorn being cooked, with all the bangs going off all over the classroom. The finale was when one unfortunate boy was showered with pens and bits of roof tile as the particular bit of ceiling above him gave way under sheer weight of pencils, and structural instability due to repeated puncture. The teacher actually thought the roof tile had broken on its own and that the pencils that were scattered in the wreckage came from the spasm of shock that the pupil had experienced due to sudden roof tile explosion.
I made one of these again a couple of years ago and they are fucking awesome. Try it yourself!
This could be insanely powerful and was made even deadlier by getting a bit of bamboo (the kind that gardeners use to make plants grow or something) and sharpening it in a pencil sharpener.
Since these were so easy to make, loads of people copied them. It became hilariously funny to steal your neighbours pens and pencils, when in class, and fire them straight up into the ceiling tiles. This would result in a satisfying thump as the pencil went straight through the tile, hit the roof and then was lost forever in the space inbetween. Many teachers would get faintly puzzled at the strange thumping noises from the roof and the gleeful expression on one pupils face as his neighbour had to ask to borrow ANOTHER pencil.
This all had to end when, in an art class, boxes of coloured pencils were handed out and a class of 20 boys proceeded to lose them all in the ceiling. It was like popcorn being cooked, with all the bangs going off all over the classroom. The finale was when one unfortunate boy was showered with pens and bits of roof tile as the particular bit of ceiling above him gave way under sheer weight of pencils, and structural instability due to repeated puncture. The teacher actually thought the roof tile had broken on its own and that the pencils that were scattered in the wreckage came from the spasm of shock that the pupil had experienced due to sudden roof tile explosion.
I made one of these again a couple of years ago and they are fucking awesome. Try it yourself!
A satisfying flamethrower can be made if you suck acetone into a plastic pippete and fire it through a bunsen. Extra kudos is given to those who set Vladimir's books on fire and/or hit the rubber tube of the bunsen, causing a frenzied panic of fire-control attempts.
Hmmm. Real or hardly?
Hardly. Worth. Bothering. About.
In primary 7 I was 'friends' with an odd chap who had a strange obsession with the brown stuff. Some of his stranger poo-related incidents involved a small plastic pig - the kind of decoration that you put on top of a pencil. He used to put this up his bum in history class, then shit it out (with agonising facial expressions as it was not jobby shaped) and throw it at the girls. History classes had an air of absolute terror as we all wondered who would be targeted next.
The mummy story reminded me of his crowning achievement. Another bloke decided it would be fun to bring a poo into school so he shat on a piece of bog roll, wrapped it up and brought it into school to show everyone. Hoppie (for that was his name) thought this was simply spiffing and tried to emulate it. His inovation, however, was to not bother with toilet paper. Apparently he just pooed in his hand and slipped it in his blazer pocket. The worst thing, apart from the fact that he had a jobby in his pocket, was that he also had a chocolate bar in there which he later ate with relish (the adjective, not the condiment).
Once, on a school snowboarding trip to the Alps, I got drunk and shat on a snowman. The snowman was about my height so I climbed up, squatted on his shoulders and, with the support of a kind friend who held my hands for balance, made a perfect turd-hat for Mr Frosty. It made my giblets cold but was very worth it as we returned the next day to find that my poo had melted its way down into the snowmans head and had then been snowed over making it a jobby-brained snowman!