We had developed a habit of riding invisible motorcycles around the corridors of our secondary school, accompanied by sound effects. As this was done without regard for the health & safety of non-participants, the headmaster saw fit to ban the practice.
One day he had caught Kenneth Keene and James Spencer joyriding in the corridor, and was in the middle of giving them a ticking off when another 'biker' came tearing past them. The furious head shouted at Ken to go after the boy and bring him back, so Ken climbed on his imaginary bike, kickstarted it and roared off in hot pursuit.
One day he had caught Kenneth Keene and James Spencer joyriding in the corridor, and was in the middle of giving them a ticking off when another 'biker' came tearing past them. The furious head shouted at Ken to go after the boy and bring him back, so Ken climbed on his imaginary bike, kickstarted it and roared off in hot pursuit.
I had to explain to our year's alpha male about the trinity of lady holes. I did do slowly, and with the aid of some meticulous diagrams in the back of my chemistry book.
He'd been having sex for two years, but was surprisingly placid throughout my lesson. When I'd finished, he simply looked at me and said 'well, my cat doesn't have three holes'.
He'd been having sex for two years, but was surprisingly placid throughout my lesson. When I'd finished, he simply looked at me and said 'well, my cat doesn't have three holes'.
Our version was similar:
Jesus Christ, Superstar,
Went round the corner in a Jaguar.
Did a skid, killed a kid,
Chopped off his bollocks on a dustbin lid.
You'll notice that the use of the word "bollocks" improves the metre of the last line, which makes this the definitive version of the tune. And I won't have anyone else say that it's not. Because it is.
Jesus Christ, Superstar,
Went round the corner in a Jaguar.
Did a skid, killed a kid,
Chopped off his bollocks on a dustbin lid.
You'll notice that the use of the word "bollocks" improves the metre of the last line, which makes this the definitive version of the tune. And I won't have anyone else say that it's not. Because it is.
Lunchtime entertainment based as loosely as possible on the classic 80s arcade game Arkanoid.
Arkanoid was a posh version of Breakout, and involved moving a bat around to bounce a ball against some blocks.
Arkanoid didn't involve our class headcase chasing us around school trying to whack us around our shorts-trousered legs with a large ruler. This was known, unlike the game Arkanoid, which this doesn't resemble at all, as "crisping".
You were briefly immune from crisping when you stood on a desk. Arkanoid had no such safety zone. However, to maintain this safety, you had to jump from desk to desk, like in Donkey Kong. Not Arkanoid.
Arkanoid was a posh version of Breakout, and involved moving a bat around to bounce a ball against some blocks.
Arkanoid didn't involve our class headcase chasing us around school trying to whack us around our shorts-trousered legs with a large ruler. This was known, unlike the game Arkanoid, which this doesn't resemble at all, as "crisping".
You were briefly immune from crisping when you stood on a desk. Arkanoid had no such safety zone. However, to maintain this safety, you had to jump from desk to desk, like in Donkey Kong. Not Arkanoid.
Printers of school books. Possibly also a medical complaint, where your head turns into a body. Aged 11, I wrote my first swear word duet, and this is it.
Log : Fuck a shit head.
Paul : Who?
Log : Bodley Head!
Log : Fuck a shit head.
Paul : Who?
Log : Bodley Head!
With the advent of affordable pocket calculators (and pre "Daley Thompson's Decathlon") we devised a game of Track and Field that could be played anywhere, but usually in Maths lessons.
The game was a race to 100 on your calculator, by pressing '1++' and then the 'equals' key.
Longer events did take place but the '100m' was always a favourite.
The game was a race to 100 on your calculator, by pressing '1++' and then the 'equals' key.
Longer events did take place but the '100m' was always a favourite.
Our version was more openly inviting of homoeroticism... and a touch of CBT:
Jesus Christ, superstar
Came down from heaven on a Yamaha
He pulled a skid, killed a kid
Trapped his balls in a dustbin lid
When I die, bury me
Hang my balls in a cherry tree
Jesus Christ, superstar
Came down from heaven on a Yamaha
He pulled a skid, killed a kid
Trapped his balls in a dustbin lid
When I die, bury me
Hang my balls in a cherry tree
My friend's name was Clint Walker. You've probably already guessed, but with a couple of quick pen strokes, you have Cunt Wanker.
Every school year was a dash to steal his books from his bag, administer these pen strokes, then politely return the books.
Every school year was a dash to steal his books from his bag, administer these pen strokes, then politely return the books.
Just in case you were really interested, the actual name for the d100 is the Zocchihedron. Have a look at this: http://www.multimania.com/arjan/num100.htm
Victim is floored, arms out-stretched. Someone kneels on the elbow joint and the arm is pumped up and down. Often initiated with the question "Would you like leaded or unleaded?". Requesting "unleaded" possibly led to a less ferocious pumping but probably relied more on the benevolence of the initiator.
And I suppose if the kid started crying, you could all go "thar she blows!" and dance around clicking your heels and whooping, as though you’d struck oil like in them films. That sounds fun. Susan.
And I suppose if the kid started crying, you could all go "thar she blows!" and dance around clicking your heels and whooping, as though you’d struck oil like in them films. That sounds fun. Susan.