This guy. (I'm gesturing with my two thumbs at myself)

Larry t

Jon B

He was roundly hated before he revealed he’d spaffed in his sister, but after that bullying efforts were trebled on the irritating twat (he used to get in your face and make a noise like Snarf out of the Thundercars, the cunt), culminating in the most astonishing display of mass youthful brutality I’ve ever seen, nay, been party to. To win some friends, he climbed onto the school roof one lunchtime to retrieve a football. Seeing him up there, prancing round like a cock, made some sort of collective tolerance get breached, and suddenly the hapless wank was bombarded with rocks – even the fucking prefects were joining in, loner girls who’d never been heard to speak were fucking pelting the git and baying for blood. Mad, sad, and a little frightening. The whole school got bollocked immediately after lunch in the only emergency assembly we’d ever had, with Ben getting carted off in an ambulace.

[anon]

I wonder if I’m the only one thinking that you all sound like a far greater bunch of cunts then him?

Drew S

She responded by saying, “well, you know when you pull your foreskin back in the bath whilst washing? It’s like that over and over.”

From the blank look she received from all of us, it became apparent none of us knew how to wash our dicks properly, let alone have sex.

George B

And one of them had a mullet.

Kevin D

Our 5-a-side team was called Bumjamum. We did, too.

[anon]

[anon]

Who put you in jail?

Who let you out of jail?

And inevitably:

What did you do when a girl came around the street corner?

My love of this gag led to me writing “You will Inspector Fanny” on a bit of scrap paper and giving it to another kid I’d been playing the joke on, just to relive the finest moment of the joke. He passed it to the teacher, who proceeded to ask me if I knew what a fanny was.

Aidan C

The only confusion arose from his body language - the fact his olive branch was offered to an unaggressive child, whom he was punching again and again in the face, made it all seem just a touch more psychotic than everyday violence.

Tony S

If you put your bicycle upside down and turned the pedals, it was an ice cream making machine.

You could produce any flavour. Vanilla was popular, as was chocolate.

I still pretend to make ice cream this way as a 41 year old man, with my £1500 racing bike. My wife kindly agrees to collude with this conceit, pretending to consume and enjoy my wares. Even when, after she’s finished her cornet, I pretend that it was made with poo (chocolate), wee (vanilla) or period (raspberry). I have even sold her a Neapolitan.

Marcus J

Another weirdo writes:

When I turned my BMX upside down, it churned butter. So it appears that different bikes can produce different dairy products. Thankfully, I didn’t know back then, so I wasn’t upset at missing out on unlimited supplies of ice cream.

Did your bike make cheese? Perhaps it became the ‘Magical Milkshake Machine’ at the flick of an imaginary switch. Why don’t you form some sort of club? - Ponky

[anon]

Tony took time out of his busy schedule torturing small mammals to share this pearl of two-wheeled wisdom.

My bike made pain. The spinning, lumpy motor cross tyres when spinning at full revs created such a lethal weapon that its victims eyes were a sight to behold as henchmen forced their tear stained faces towards it. All the time I cranked the pedals faster like the winding of a Spanish Inquisition musical box. The whole torture was made all the more pleasurable by the dynamo attached to my rear tyre which would make the bike lights glow brightly when the revolutions were high enough to remove skin!

Tony G

The best you can expect is a crushing handshake.

But it’s rarely a lone wolf attack - to risk approaching someone as unpopular as you, there’s usually going to be a bigger payoff. Chances are you’ll be held in place while others come to laugh at the fact you dared to want or expect friendship. Often, there is violence.

Finally, the crowd will be overjoyed if the injustice causes you to howl “you liiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeed” before losing conscousness. They know they lied. That was the whole point. No wonder you get picked on.

Tony G

Nick H

“If someone makes fun of you for not having the latest fashionable gear or a brand new bike or something, just tell them you can’t afford it - that’ll shut them up.”

Even aged about 7, we knew that was a really fucking bad idea.

Sus

Tony G

Fifteen years later, I can’t help wondering if she still does this when her boyfriend asks her “Did you come, dear?”

Alana

At that age, I was oblivious to the stigma attached to Nazism, but was somehow subconciously affected by the film’s sensitive portrayal of the Nazi war effort and the beautiful colours of their regalia.

The next week in class, we were asked to design a hot air balloon. My balloon was perfunctory, adorned with the usual childhood scribble. The picture was completed with a toothsome couple in leather jackets and milkbottle glasses, saluting to the people below.

Oh yes, and there was sign with a giant swastika on it, jutting out of the side of the basket.

I was really pleased with my effort. The teacher, however, was disgusted. And at the end of the year, when all our work was traditionally returned to us to take home to our proud parents, my nazi balloon masterpiece had mysteriously gone missing. My guess is it’s either in my permanent record (providing a silent warning to employers that they have a potential Nazi sympathizer on their hands), or my teacher has it framed on her wall at home. In her secret Third Reich bondage dungeon. The filthy bitch.

[anon]

While playing ‘Where Eagles Dare’ (a film where the goodies dress as Nazis), myself and a friend proudly ran around the estate in hastily improvised Jerry clobber. Wellingtons made ideal jackboots and paper eagles taped to our ‘uniforms’ gave extra authenticity.

However, drawing a massive black swastika on the front of my ‘London Zoo’ cap was deemed going too far and led to the inevitable parental lecture on why swastikas are very bad.

Tony G

My computer froze. I bashed away at buttons. It didn’t work. Rather than simply turn off my computer, I ran around the room persuading classmates to insert the same question into the search engine. Nobody’s computer froze except mine. I then tried to persuade the teacher that it must be some massive international problem and it was just a coincidence that the one person out of the 6 billion on Earth whose name was stuck in the search engine was in her class. She said she believed me.

Gareth T

Bullied to the point of “the rage” (q.v.) by a sikh boy, I decided in my desperation to retaliate by being racist, as I’d been told that this was “the very worst kind of all abuse”.

Alas, my chick-pea eating, Greenham-common-supporting upbringing got in the way, and all I managed was a rather oblique comment about “things having a rather dark complexion.”

He just looked a bit perplexed. However, he must have brooded about it nightly for a long time, because after not seeing him at all for four years, he suddenly approached me and threw me down a stairwell.

[anon]

For about a week after the incident, I couldn’t sit near a girl without her crying out “Jon, stop trying to rape me!” and occasionally hitting me.

I’m not a rapist. Honest.

The Editors of Playground Law wish to let it be known that they do not endorse Jon James’ claim not to be a rapist. If you have been raped by Jon James, please go to the police. Alternately, tell your story here, and we’ll do our best to get him sent down for good.

jon j

My father taught at the same school I attended, and a few months ago he told me that he had stood next to the most unpleasant kid in the year, and silently waved an eggy banner. I had never before felt so much love for my father as right then.

[anon]

At a particularly well-known and illustrious public school, a young teacher decided to while away the hours on the laptop computer lying in the exam hall whilst invigilating an A level Physics exam. Little did he know that the laptop was plugged into a projector and the explicit websites he was visiting were displayed in all their glory behind him, 8 feet high, providing the students with a little light entertainment. The teacher was suspended on full pay, pending an investigation.

Editor’s Note: Yes, we are fully aware that the above is 100% lies. If this genuinely had happened, it would have been glorious.

Jim C

Thanks to all those avid readers who wrote in with http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/education/1998218.stm, which would seem to prove Jim Clack right and Conor wrong.

I’m sure that Conor will issue a full and grovelling apology to Jim the moment he reads this.

Matt F

Dear readers,

Well, yes, it seems I was a little too hasty in jumping on the bullshit bandwagon with this story. However, I’m not sorry, I don’t care, and you’re all gay.

All right, all right, I’ll go and stand in the corner and do a snot bubble.

Conor F

‘A bitch is a dog, a dog barks, bark is part of a tree, a tree is part of nature, nature is beautiful, so thanks for the compliment.’

Can be altered slightly for other insults too; ‘a twat is a fanny, sweet fanny adams, adam and eve were in Genesis, so was Phil Collins, so actually you’re calling me Phil Collins, so thanks for the compliment.’

And if it’s any consolation, a fucking cunt must be an attractive cunt, otherwise it wouldn’t be fucking.

Jon B

Alan: Has anyone got a spare textbook?

The Class: It’s not lunchtime , Alan.

john p

[anon]

If this works, consider telling your parents that your maths teacher slid his index finger into your arse.

[anon]

A rubbish insult, but a wonderful image - Alton Towers for half wits. People queueing the wrong way. People buying do-nuts and hugging them, and suffocating in the plastic ponchos you buy for the water rides.

It still makes me smile 10 years on.

[anon]

Adjust the volume.

Hopefully, the television will be before on-screen displays of the volume, so it would just seem like a mechanical glitch. The teacher will be concerned, but not enough to stop the video.

Pause. Resume.

Timing is everything. First, quickly stop-start the video to let everyone know something is amiss. The second time, not too long after the first, and only resume when the teacher gets out of her chair, leaving her hovering in mid-air, unsure which way to go. Then leave it for a minute or two, until everyone thinks it’s working again, then pause and leave it until she actually gets to the video before you hit play. Then hit pause the second she sits down. When she gets back to the video, move to the next stage.

Fast Forward / Rewind

Convince the teacher that something is seriously wrong by pressing something on your watch immediately after she presses something on the video. She presses play? Hit rewind. Continue until she is hopelessly flustered, and fetches another, more male, teacher.

Resume Normal Service

When the other teacher is in, you obviously let the video run normally. You should also complain that this video on the Bayeux Tapestry is really interesting, and it’s frustrating that you can’t seem to watch it in the manner the programme makers intended. The other teacher will leave, perhaps rolling his eyes at the flapping woman in his wake.

Tear Her Soul Apart

No mercy. The second he has left the door, bombard the video with everything you’ve got. The look of pained helplessness and growing panic on her face will inspire sympathy in only the gayest of children.

[anon]

Their one hit was “I’ll Give You Love”. Whenever the group performed this on stage, one of them would wear a large rucksack over one shoulder. Then, when he got to the emotional pinnacle of the song - the high bit - he would throw it down on stage in an aroused huff. Every time.

This original move led to an entire month at our school where every lesson we would all, in unison, start the lesson by screaming “I’ll give you love” in high whiny voices then slamming our bags down on our desks.

It was in this way that I broke my cartridge pen. We were not a very cool school.

Blue J

That day, James smelled righteous, so I asked him, burrying my face in my shirt, “James. Why did you shit in your pants?”

He looked at me straight in the eye and declared, in a “well actually, as a matter of fact” kind of way, “It will be HARD soon.”

Mike P

A brief silence followed out of respect and gratitude, before the barrage was resumed. And this time, we had truth on our side.

Roy H

Also consider, “dunno, the label’s dropped off”, “dunno, but it’s staring back”, and “a cunt”.

Matt F

From the same school as <Em>are you looking at me or chewing a brick?* , the punchline to which - either way you lose your teeth - I didn’t know when I was young, so I assumed it was something to do with the face you pulled when you were staring at the person. But, if you looked at someone and pulled a face like you were chewing a brick, that would probably mean that the other person was really ugly, so it made no sense that that other person would draw attention to your disgusted reaction to him.

I understand now, but this was a real worry to me at the time.

Jon B

Back in the heady days of 1993 Ace of Base released “The Sign” which was transmogrified into “Your Mom”; the words to which are:

I saw Your Mom,
She opened up her legs and said ‘come on’.
Life is demanding,
When you’re doing it on the landing.

Brilliant, I’m sure you’d agree. Obviously you couldn’t let someone sing this to you unpunished which led to someone coming up with the blocker song, “Your Dad”, which replaced the fist two lines with:

I saw Your Dad,

He opened up his legs and said ’not bad’.

This, in turn, was blocked by the fact being pointed out that having your opponent’s dad opening his legs on the landing and appraising you for sexy purposes was pretty fucking gay anyway.

Richard E

I saw your mum
She opened up her legs, I gave her one.
It wasn’t funny
But she needed the money.

If shagging your friend’s mum was funny, or if she was independently wealthy and just whoring herself for kicks, you could substitute the last two lines with

It was fantastic
Totally elastic!

The lack of an alternative for well-to-do mums with bucket fannies is presumably down to their penchant for consulting with plastic surgeons and getting an ’elastic’ nip n tuck to the old bacon sandwich.

pert b

I think you mean;

I fucked your Mum

I opened up her legs and made her come

She was outstanding

Especially on the landing.

Then move onto the father, remembering that it’s not gay to fuck another boy’s father;

I fucked your Dad

I fucked him, sucked him, played with his gonads

I felt his power

When we were in the shower.

(

Let me try! Cough - here we go…
I snogged your gran,
I mopped up her womb juices with a naan.
I fisted said womb
In her filthy bedroom - Log)

[anon]

David Chiswell’s mum was a bit of a goer and she done it how she liked it. Singing this steamy tribute to her subtle charms in his face was the least we could do.

I fucked your mum
I opened up her bum, I fucked your mum
She was demanding
So I fucked her standing

Alistair G

After school we would often drink a potent concoction known as “bine” which was half beer, half red wine. After drinking a large amount of bine my buddy spent the evening singing:

I drank the bine,
I opened up my mouth,
I saw the bine.

When he says “saw the bine” I think he actually meant “regurgitated the bine”, but that didn’t scan so well; and the song never evolved beyond a repetition of this perfect quasi-haiku.

You should have seen the state of us after a heavy night on the Pimmto.

jimmy 2

To the tune of ‘Wannabe’ by the Spice Girls:

*If you wanna be my lover,

Sex is 50p.

Condoms are one-fifty,

Buy one get one freeee!*

Every time I see a ‘Buy One Get One Free’ offer I get the urge to sing that song.

You should go right ahead. It’d probably brighten up some old sod’s Tesco shopping trip anyway. - Matt

steph s

Take jaffas , the well-known and logical word for boys who shoot blanks. We called them “jaspers”. But we also called wasps Jaspers. It was a confusing time for impotent boys and wasps alike.

Similarly, skill - to us - was and American Bum Disease, even though an American Bum is a tramp, and African Bums are just funnier.

The Kidder version of the Rainbow “Lion Sleeps Tonight” song was;

In the Jungle with George and Bungle, Zippy on the drums.
Jeffrey farted, an earthquake started, and down the rocks they fell.

This is self-evidently a bit crap .

Most inaccurate versions of playground games can be traced to a national game of Chinese Whispers - when they passed through Kidderminster, and we got it really wrong.

lucy

Alistair G

This also works when playing it . You can not become it by injecting yourself, thus becoming immune to being caught. This is roughly equivalent to simply “not playing”.

caroline n

Well, fuck me if he didn’t look like Bob Carolgees. My tolerance collapsed - it was all too much for me. Even my slack, slack morality couldn’t tolerate shagging Bob Carolgees. I told everyone I knew, and felt immediately better for it. A secret shared is a secret halved - by the time I’d finished, the individual portions of secret were microscopic.

But no less sweet. It’s not every day you get to betray a confidence so humiliating.

Jon B

Philip K

At least once a week we would be visited by about thirty misguided children in varying states of spackerdom, angling for a punch up during dinner.

This was even more entertaining because, frankly, they could barely manage being outside unsupervised, let alone display dazzling unarmed combat skills. So they pretty much got hammered very time. They never learned. Which is probably why they were in a special school in the first place.

Uncle B

Leopold B

petrocelli

Tania K

Mr L

“Hey Andrea, have you got a red pen I can borrow?”

“No, sorry.”

“Well then, I hope your firstborn is a cripple.”

If anyone from Killy High has since given birth to a crippled child, I accept no responsibility for it.

Stuart L

• You guffed!

• Yeah well you guffed twice.

• Yeah well you guffed times a hundred!

• Yeah well you guffed infinity times!

• Yeah well you guffed infinity times plus one!

• You can’t have infinity plus one!

• Yes you can!

• Alright, you guffed infinity times two times!

• Plus one.

• Infinty squared!

• Plus one.

Steve C

This potentially tiresome argument can be ended with the statement, ‘well infinity’s not a number anyway, so using it in an equation makes no sense’. This will take you into a new argument, where you will find yourself mocked, shunned, and probably struck.

Salad M

[anon]

I should be so lucky with my rubber ducky

Strangle Mrs Mangle today

Daphnes had a baby

Called it little Jamie

Bouncers gone a bouncing away.

Then the second verse, which lost its way somewhat…

Daphnes nearly Dying

Gails just arriving

Des doesn’t know what to do

Mike’s at college showing off his knowledge

Picking up a date or two

Angela P

Alexander P

Josh D

‘Ib dib dog shit,

Fucking bastard,

Dirty git

… (continue swearing) …

You are not IT!’

After the third line, the lyrics were variable, and usually consisted of the picker reciting as many other swear words as they could think of until they ran out. The rhyme improved with the age of the rhymer, until eventually the selection process aspect of the rhyme was lost into a purposeless stream of filth.

Bobs M

“If only I dared go out. If only no one would come. If only I could be sure nothing would happen here in the meantime. Stuff and nonsense! No one will come. Only I mustn’t think about it. I will brush my muff. What lovely, lovely gloves!”

At this point, discipline faded fast.

(Also consider “Ride you tonight, my lord?” from Macbeth)

Conor F

A line similarly destined to provoke hilarity comes from ‘Sense and Sensibility’, where (I think) Marianne declares “it is so cold today. I can barely keep my hands warm, even in my muff.”

Mike H

There’s also some lines from a play (I have no idea what play, maybe a drama student can enlighten me) which go:

“Has the doctor seen her, Fanny?”

“Yes, and he said there was little hope.”

Matt F

Jane Austen must have been taking the piss with Mansfield Park. Not only did she name the main character Fanny, but she saw fit to stress on several occasions the particular love that Fanny had for balls.

The balls of Antigua and Northampton are discussed at length, though the book suggests that Mr Rushworth’s balls are the best in the country.

panda m

From now on, any submissions of inadvertant innuendo in classical literature to i will brush my muff or holmes ejaculated will require internet link-based proof. Anyone writing in to say I think there’s a bit in A Christmas Carol where Tom Bosley says ‘hubba bubba bumlegs’ will not be considered. They will not be considered , you hear me?

Jon B

King Lear shares a cathartic aside with Goneril, when he confesses;

Life and death! I am ashamed
That thou hast power to shake my manhood thus;
That these hot tears, which break from me perforce…

Goneril’s reply in the first draft was;

“Whatevs, King Queer . Twas only a hand job, and not like you got your dick dirty nor nothin’. FORSOOTH!”

David R

Jeff S

Ip, dip, dog shit,

Fucking bastard, little git,

You are not it

Obviously the second line serves no purpose, apart from sounding very adult.

Harry N

Stand in a line? Rubbish? Everyone playing in the game put one of their feet in the dip and the bossiest kid got to do whatever rhyme they knew. On special occasions, you were allowed to put both feet in. This made it exactly twice as much fun.

Andrew F

Our song went:

*Emilia Mason chundered in the basin,

What colour was her puke?*

The person you landed on would say a colour, such as red. You would spell out R-E-D, and the person who got the D was out and therefore not it. Emilia was a girl in my class who as far as I know never actually puked in a basin, but we didn’t let that get in the way of a satisfying rhyme.

Jelly T

You can also inscribe INDST so even if it is NOT destroyed it is STILL TRUE.

A second IDST can also protect the first IDST, in case someone destroys the IDST first, rendering the actual message destroyable. But that could result in an endless chain of IDSTs, which would be lunacy.

Ginger S

Girls at my school turned this into a fucking science, with stuff like IDEMT (if destroyed even more true), IDEMTTEB and IDSTFEAE - it got to the point where they’d get so caught up in drafting the consequences of the graffiti’s destruction that they’d leave out the message altogether.

dan u

We had ‘IDBT’, or ‘if destroyed becomes true’. This causes a dilemma: Destroy it and it’s true , or don’t destroy it and everyone can see ‘Danny is gay’ scrawled on a desk.

[anon]

Phil Wardle had something wrong with his spine. The problem was such that eventually he had to wear a kind of plastic corset. This encased his upper body- front and back - from his waist to just below the arms. Obviously it was worn under his shirt so it couldn’t be seen. When he first had it fitted, he would go and wind people up by calling them a twat or applying a sharp and exceedingly painful dig in the ribs with his fingers. The reaction of most people to this kind of provocation was to issue a punch in the stomach. Unfortunately for them, this was exactly the response Phil was hoping for because it resulted in a scene like that out of Superman 2 when that bloke in the diner punches Clark Kent in the stomach and nearly shatters his hand.

Nick

I woz ere

Ere I woz

Woz i ere?

Yes I woz

Affirming. My best friend Emily McQuade once filled in the space underneath with:

You are sad

Sad you are

Are you sad?

Yes you are

We liked to imagine the first-year who wrote the original poem seeing that, and crying.

Siobhan M

Emma was here

Now I’m gone

Left my name

To turn you on

“Headmaster, a group of children are gathered at the science block wall. They appear to be getting cheapies.”

“What is it, Mr Huntley? Has the porn fairy been on the rounds?”

“No, sir. A girl called Emma has left her name on the wall.”

“My God! That’ll turn everyone on! She’ll have every cock primed and ready to spunk!”

“I’ll fetch the barbiturates.”

“It might be too late for that - bring the hankies too.”

Jon B

Your status within the club was determined by the number of shouts achieved. For instance a 25-cunter obviously outranked a 12-cunter. The shouts had to be audible to a panel of judges who stood at a safe distance.

Iain Grant’s claim to be a hundred-cunter was dismissed as it was achieved outside school hours. If a teacher was on playground duty each shout counted as a shout and a half for scoring purposes.

The highest verified status was Mark Jeffries’ 43-cunter and the lowest was for a shout of ‘I am’ followed by a punch in the stomach.

Rival clubs, such as ‘I am a Bastard’ and the boundary-stretching ‘I am a fucking cunt’ never really caught on.

Bob M

I am a mongol, and i run around town,

and people hit me on my water filled crown,

it took me two months just to do up my tie,

I had an option to do it or die,

I say uuuurr uuuurrr.

John Connors was asked to sing it in assembly as the english teacher thought it was called “I am a Moron”. Connors was put in detention and had to write a letter of apology to Mrs Ware who had a down syndrome child and had run out of assembly crying. This all seemed rather unfair.

Silent B

Lee N

Natural target Mark regularly used to try this as a mental defence mechanism whenever he was subjected to physical torture, involving him saying “<code>I AM A ROBOT. YOU CAN NOT HURT ME.</code>” in a metallic-sounding voice. This statement stood in stark opposition to the fact that we could, and did.

nicotineman

Years before the Borg in Star Trek, kids at my school would wander around woodenly, saying “I-AM-A-ROBOT”, and if they pressed their fists against the side of your neck, you became a robot too. This was quite inconvenient, as many of us wanted to play other things, but there was an unspoken rule that if you were turned into a robot, you had to stop whatever you were doing and go and turn other kids into robots.

When the number of robots rapidbly began to outnumber the number of non-robots, we few remaining survivors decided to retaliate, and thus created “Cut-circuits”, which were good robots that destroyed the robot circuitry that the robots had put into the kids, and turned them back into humans again. These kids were then free to go back to playing football or beating each other up or whatever it was they were doing. This, however, proved to be the fatal flaw in their design - cut-circuits didn’t turn you into one of them, they merely turned you human again, which meant that they were fighting a losing battle, as the robots could multiply much faster than they could.

Things were looking desperate for us few remaining humans, until finally one of us hit upon the brilliant idea of just telling any robots that tried to assimilate us to piss off. And that was the end of that.

Dan L

John Hoggart used to march around the football field saying “NOTHING STANDS IN MY WAY” in a robot voice.

Using all the lessons you’ve learned from this website about human behaviour, can you guess what happened?

That’s right! He was abducted, tortured to insanity, given bionic implants and made to fight polar bears. After ten years of battling the Arctic beasts, his implants were obsolete, and he was dumped on a glacier and left to sail away. This icy island sailed into mediterranean waters, and John Hoggart’s still-sentient corpse was sailed around on an inflatable banana to ward off pirates. He was buried vertically, and two snakes now use his skull as a home. They are very much in love, and every morning they pop their head out of an eye socket each, and do a kiss.

Oh, you know I’m doing a fib, don’t you? I’ll come clean; people just stood in his way.

Jon B

Kid B (pause while fingers are counted on): I

Kid A: What colour is the sky?

Kid B: Blue

Kid A: What’s the opposite of on?

Kid B: Off

Kid A: Euuuurrrrr! You blew off!

You blew off! Hey everyone, [Kid A] just said “I blew off”! This works best if you run around doing it to as many people as you can, because it’s only a matter of time before everyone has heard it. And if that doesn’t happen, there’s only a brief period in your life when you will be childish enough for it to be funny.

Matt F

Alternatively:

A: What’s your name?

B: B

A: (Point to your nose) What’s this?

B: Nose

A: (Hold your hand out) What am I carrying?

B: Nothing

A: B knows nothing! He said so himself! He’s shouting it from the rooftops!

Craig H

[anon]

She followed through? I suppose browning one’s cacks is slightly more embarassing than getting your knob out.

snudger s

Sr D

Rocky Shore P

To say “I’m not gay” is the highest, most solemn, most utterly damning evidence that one IS gay, and not just gay but a big brassy transvestite to boot. The quickest, kindest cure for this was to boot the fuck out of the victim. Ironically, the one time we actually discovered that a kid was genuinely gay and confused about it, we were so freaked out by such a display of vulnerability that we formed a protective group around him, on the strict understanding that he NEVER discuss it with us again. We later booted fuck out of him for having periods, which he probably didn’t, now I come to think of it.

[anon]

Sydney F

Ian E

Also try “I’m telling, you’re dwelling in an indefinite state of fear”

Jon B

Was extended to ‘I’m telling, you’re smelling, you went to Caroline’s wedding’, Caroline in this case being a smelly girl in my class. I think the insinuation was that you married her, but just being present at her wedding was sufficient an insult.

Jon Y

you’re smelling

you went to batman’s wedding

you kissed him

you hugged him

and now you really love him

It’s shit, but it’s got batman in, so it’s great.

Dan W

Dan W

I can assure you that being kicked in the willy really does fucking hurt, especially if the zip on your kecks cuts a fucking great gash into it and leaves you needing stitches.

dan u

Rumours abounded at my school that Edward Hills had been overly friendly with one of the girls (who’s name I forget), and she’d grabbed him by the proverbials and twisted. He then (according to myth) required surgery to get his balls out of his underwear and would never have children. Considering that this is the same man who once shaved off one of his eyebrows and then, after mockery, shaved off the other so it would match, I think it is unlikely that he’d have children anyway.

Phil C

Peter G

Double bluff possible; reply “icy ink”. The other person may (a 1:25 chance) say “no, iced ink”, allowing you full reversal privileges.

Jon B

I am hungry, hungry, hungry,

I am hungry, hungry, hungry,

I am hungry, hungry, hungry,

I am thirsty.

Where is the food, food, food

Where is the food, food, food

Where is the food, food, food

Where is the sausage?

Hard to believe any race stereotyping themselves so effectively.

Jon B

Summy

Martin Price was not happy and everyone knew it. He had just had a severe telling off from Miss Wells for being caught spitting and was in floods of tears. So as the rest of the class of seven-year-olds sang the jolly song complete with ‘claps’ Martin reluctantly sang along, his face streaked with tears and snot; his whole being in complete contradiction with the uplifting ditty. Miss Wells ignored him for four whole verses and choruses before sending him to the toilets to wash.

Miss Wells didn’t like dirty children. She once dragged Paul Hoskins out to the front of the class for farting and whacked him across the arse with a gymshoe, not knowing he’d actually shat himself, thus creating a far bigger clean-up job than previously necessary.

Bob R

Jon B

Illy Dilly Dog’s Willy

Inside Out

Press A Little Button

And the shit flies… OUT!

Peter G

Ip Dip was another variant. It ran thusly:

Ip Dip, Dog shit

Hanging off a lady’s tit.

O U T Spells OUT you must go.

Why any lady would have dog shit on her tits, or how this related to why one boy or girl must go ‘out’ has never been adequately explained. Perhaps it was that child’s mother.

Peter M

Vince C

This theory was pushed to its very limits when we set fire to a desk and started doing deodourant-flamethrowers in front of a cover teacher in our drama class. Punishment? Not a sausage.

Bionic S

Clint brought a dead dog he found in the road into our form room and proceeded to make the corpse dance on his desk. After taking a moment or two to absorb the true horror of Clint’s actions, our form tutor merely asked him to “put that away until break”. This suggested that playing with dead animals at school was acceptable provided that it didn’t distract us from answering the register.

Tony G

I was lucky enough to experience immunity in excess one Thursday afternoon, when my P.E. class whiled away the idle hours by ripping down the blinds and using a metal metre ruler to poke holes in the ceiling. Apparently, public schools are made from Plaster of Paris hidden by a thin coat of paint.

Loki G

Stephanie C

Zippy and Bungle

were in the jungle,

Lying in the grass,

Zippy got silly

and pulled out his willy,

and stuck it up bungles arse.

Tim T

Peter G

Bob R

Indelible make-up is very funny until a particularly waggish group of your school chums pins you down on the cricket field and gives you a full Groucho Marx job just half an hour before your GCSE German oral exam is due to start. Fortunately, you can’t fail GCSE German just for turning up to the exam looking like a complete tit.

gordon r

Katie B

Conrad G

My fifth form tutor shagged Sue Cooke (of TV’s “CrimeWatch” fame). There was a story about it on page three of The Sun. And a picture of some tits.

Mark P

It’s spelt, ‘inappropriate’, by the way.

We know. It’s, um, ironic. Oh piss off you KEENER.

[anon]

In Upper Sixth, our form-tutor noticed a boy called Gideon, who happened through no fault of his own to be Jewish, fiddling absentmindedly with some lab apparatus. To a shocked classroom, he called out “Stop that, you thieving little Jewboy.”

From then on, that teacher was owned .

[anon]

It’s spelled ‘spelled’ by the way. Irony in a basket.

[anon]

Mingepiece - M.I.N.G.E.P.I.E.C.E.

This is a spelling contest right?

Tom W

We had a woodwork/metalwork teacher who would announce, when he entered the workshop at the beginning of a lesson, “Open a window. This place smells like the inside of a Turkish brothel”. Every single damn time.

I can only assume that he frequented the kind of Turkish brothels that reek of sweaty teenage children, swarfega, wood shavings and oxyacetylene torch gas. In which case, he must really have loved his job.

( Also nice that he distinguished from the smell of the outside of a Turkish brothel, a smell which must have tormented him until he finally plucked up the courage to go inside. )

Matt F

Mr Torpy, our physics teacher, would often chastise pupils in his class who were playing with the gas taps with the killer line “this isn’t Auschwitz, boys.”

chin t

Our sadistic, moustachioed CDT teacher became rather excitable and worked up during one of his lectures, spraying a nearby girl with a shower of spittle. His only response was, “Don’t worry, love. You need a pint to get AIDS”.

Uncle S

Kevin Presley (an unfortunate boy who looked like Chunk from The Goonies and had to screw up his whole face to blink) was feeling particularly flatulent one day. Our Geography teacher, somewhat concerned with Kevin’s wellbeing, took it upon himself to advise him, “Go to the toilet now , before you shit yourself!”.

Edison C

In 5th year Geography I knocked my pencil case onto the floor at the end of the lesson. I bent to pick it up and experienced a very definite *slapping* sensation across my buttocks. I stood up and slowly turned around. Amazingly, there was Mr Nicholas holding a ruler. The pupils left in the classroom were staring in shocked silence. The teacher laughed nervously and said “Sorry Susanna, but some targets are too good to resist.”

Nice save sir. Nice.

Peter Sutcliffe writes: Oh bum! If only I’d thought of that, rather than my frankly piss-poor ‘God told me to do it’ defence!

Sus

My dad and some other teachers conspired to ensure that the first letters of each line on some kid’s report spelled out ‘LITTLE SHIT’. Brilliance.

Hold on, I’ll just get the bullshit detector. Beep beep beep BEEPBEEPBEEPBEEPBEEP.
Oh, go on, then - mansh

[anon]

Listening to your english teacher call his fellow staffmate a ‘fucking wanker’ is just heavenly.

Faye W

Kathryn Wakeman had to leave A-level physics early one afternoon for a dentist appointment. At the appropriate time, she was excused, and squeezed past Mr Howarth's desk where he was explaining a particularly complicated bit of physics. In doing so she managed to knock some papers onto the floor and bent over to pick them up.

Mr Howarth immediately turned around and pretended to shag her from behind. He did a 'phwoar' face and everything. It's fair to say we were astonished.

Gareth L

Pupil A: “Pupil B is a gay icon, you know, miss!”

Teacher: “Well, he can’t help being attractive.”

This was made all the worse by the fact that said teacher was the fattest cake-mountain ever to roll her merry way into our school. I mean, she once told us there might be stains on our books because she’d been eating chocolate cake while she marked them. If that isn’t asking for it, what exactly is?

Bionic S

The year after I left school, I discovered that one of my old RE teachers had, in his new group, an Arabic boy named Osama. On discovering this, he remarked “Oh, so you’re a little terrorist.”

I hear he has been suspended.

Osiris o

Our headmaster allowed a playground fight between the two thickest boys in the school to escalate to the stage where one participant was hospitalised and the other suspended, simply because it was the week before the SAT tests and the school’s league table scores ended up being a lot higher without those two dragging the average mark down.

*checks score on chinometer* Hmmm. Ah, fuck it. I suppose it COULD have happened.

[anon]

Mr Moretto, AKA Mario The Legend, was the best year head we’ve ever, ever had.

My form tutor at the time was a disgusting creation with absolutely no redeeming features and a peculiar notion of what should be punished and what shouldn’t. Basically, I should be punished and the rest of the class shouldn’t.

We had many an argument, and every time she went to Mr Moretto and complained. She would then send me to see him too. I was in his office once and he said, in his brilliantly stereotypical and funny Italian accent, “She piss me off too, but we both have to put up with her eh? Just deal with it for my sake, OK? I cannot stand the bitch.”

I have worshipped the man ever since. I also managed to trick a boy into saying “fuck off” really loudly in Italian in his lesson. Mr Moretto got furious and sent him out, then as soon as the door shut he started giggling and said “He tell me fuck off!” in a delighted tone.

Legend.

Meri P

When I was 7 we had a teacher called Miss Woodcock who would wield complete control over the rowdy boys in the class by threatening to KISS them if they didn’t behave.

So terrifying was the prospect of Miss Woodcock’s lips making contact with us that instead of having to shout at us to sit down and shut up, she would simply go to her handbag, get her lipstick out and slowly start applying it.

I should point out that she never actually made good on her threat. I suspect, also, that she never tried this on secondary school boys.

bob e

Even when I was in school we still used the customary Joey Deacon spastic impression.

And it was for this that the headmaster of my primary school pulled me, and a group of mates into his office for ‘bullying’.

By way of ‘punishment’ he proceeded to perform the most outrageous impression of a handicapped since Daniel Day Lewis:

He flailed his arms and legs all over the place, whilst spitting and drooling, and made primitive grunting and hooting noises.

His idea was to shock us into realising how unpleasant we had been, but the result was simply 4 naughty boys with tears rolling down their faces as they dismally failed to stifle their astonished, choking laughter.

Karl M

Jon B

An example of this was a boy in my year dubbed banana boobs, he was skinny but had these odd protruding nipples which sucked his games t-shirt in at the end. I would have laughed more but I happened to be a fat shit with tits myself.

Chris W

Dave T

Ours was ‘I Prefer Masturbation Any Time’, and people could be heard muttering it throughout our biology exam.

Rocky Shore P

Al M

I suggest that Dave should have Porked Michelle’s Anal Tract Carefully, given her low standards of hygeine. God, that was Radio 4 smug, that was.

Jon B

Matt K

Rixter

David G

Classic, but is this an urban myth, like the “Please let my son off games because he has a broken ear. Signed, my mum” letter? Answers on a postman.

Jon B

To avoid teachers noticing the similarities between our own handwriting and the handwriting on our excusal notes, we would fake each others. Didn’t quite work when the note read:

“Please excuse David Miller from games today, as he has forgotten his kit.”

bob