But on joining this club, you didn’t get a chocolate biscuit, or an after school activity. And it was 50p to join and you could only join when asked by another member. In fact, all you did was march around the playground with linked arms trying to get more people to give 50p to Dennis Chambers.

unidentified u

He also once asked me to look behind his cupboard as he had “something special” for me. It was a turd. His turd. He proudly stated that he had done it there earlier that day as a thoughtful surprise gift for me.

I took great joy telling my friend this after she drunkenly snogged him 12 years later. She refused to confirm if he tasted of snotters.

Sigh. I KNOW. - Mansh

[anon]

????????????????????????????

[anon]

This ruse may have worked had he not attempted to converse with the cool kids about Junkmey’s results. He finally came undone when he stated to Martin Bradshaw that they had recently thrashed Martin’s team 15-nil.

And thus Junkmey Rovers, in spite of having no ground, players, kit or in fact existence of any kind, still had a fan who got his head kicked in on their behalf.

Tony G

They were rumoured to be the work of school nutcase Archie, who had previously achieved fame by burning a huge ‘shit happens’ face on the cricket square with weedkiller.

‘Jimmy’ may have been a reference to the deputy head, an indestructible 80-year-old Welshman who climbed mountains and got stung by a scorpion with no ill-effects.

Prophetic warning or drug-addled nightmare? The police weren’t sympathetic in the end. Archie is now in prison.

Andy G

This would be the same Mr James that bawled me out when I cheered on the fire engines when they turned up one day. The graffiti wasn’t there before I was kicked out, but I have seen it. The person that did it is right as well. Jimmy was indeed a cunt.

[anon]

RL

<ol> - Whilst dating a girl, he was invited to dinner at her parents. Becoming excited, John enquired of his lady companion - “Can you feel my lovebuzz?”

• With the same girlfriend, he went to some forest on her birthday. They were sitting down talking when suddenly, he stands up, cock out, with a boner and shouts “HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” He then proceeds to chase girlfriend round the forest with his boner, probably all sped up with ‘Yakkety Sax’ playing in the background.
• He would only ever phone you whilst taking a shit or having a bath. Which would you prefer? The splash of turd ‘gainst wawa? Or the idea that he might be tugging idly at his balls and thinking “HELLOOOOOOOOOOO!”?
• My mate Ray went to John’s house. His mother had a French friend over, called Pierre. John didn’t know him. When Ray went to use the unlocked toilet, he discovered John’s mum and Pierre have a bath together; giggling, soapy, nude and entirely unapologetic. John explained that it happened all the time. Not the bath thing… his mother having friends over.
• On a non-uniform day, Doyle made a T-shirt which was spattered in faux-blood and had “PEOPLE HATE ME” written across the front. There is not one person in any school that could pull off that T-shirt without looking, and being told that they looked, a cunt.
  </ol>Half of these stories are thanks to the fact that girls dating John usually felt so ashamed at the end of it that they had to tell everyone all the stories, as a kind of confessional.

Luke T

• The giant rear side window falling out after being slightly leant on. - We ended up at a 45 degree angle in a ditch, for no better reason than the driver was just crap . - We hit the support strut for a porch, which promptly fell down. Needless to say, the driver didn’t stop. Or make any gesture of acknowledgement. - The driver pulled out in front of one of those tractors with the huge spike on the front, which ripped down the entire side of the bus.

Thanks, Torr and Torridge, for dozens of scenes of mild peril.

[anon]

Julian became a cult hero to the rest of the geeks, as inevitable attempts by the school bullies to disrupt his cello practice were met with near-lethal force.

Legend has it that Bruce Lee was captain of the school chess team. Chuck Norris often voluntered to stay behind after lessons and clean the blackboard properly with a wet cloth. - Ponky

Tom B

Our very own bully magnet was Roland Price, who had blue-white skin, weirdly red lips and took private ballet lessons. Playground beatings were a regular event, until the day Roland took the bull by the horns and performed a classical ballet routine in front of the entire school at morning assembly.

The unanimous respect that followed him thereafter could perhaps be put down to his astonishing gall, or possibly to the fact that performing in tights revealed Roland as the possessor of an impressively large dong.

[anon]

B: [separates the “wires” with his index finger]

A: “Your bum’s on fire.”

[anon]

Clearly, he required the opposite of a dodger. Which is a scorpion. Clearly.

stuart h

“If someone is bullying you or making you feel bad, just shout * no! * at them as loud, and as long as you can. Try practicing this in front of a mirror.”

“If this doesn’t work, go and tell a teacher, who will take you and the bully to the head, where you will both be questioned.”

Worst - advice - ever. Especially considering that the bullies were given the same folder. The bullies must have dreamed of the day that a runt would scream “NOOOOOOOOOOOO!” at them. Or better still, find the runt practicing in front of a mirror. Adults are shit.

Mistress B

Funny because Jesus never ejaculated when he was alive, and definitely doesn't ejaculate now he's inside you. He pulls out at the last minute, and a little cloud of holy steam fires out with a toot toot .

Random F

A : “Do you love Jesus?”

B : “Yes”

C : “AAAAH AAAAAH UUURGH EEWW EEEEE YOU’RE GAY!!!!!!!”

Also consider “Do you have Jesus In You?”

Ed B

This show, dedicated to fantastical storytelling, became a synonym for bullshit. When a story (usually an account of sexual athleticism from the hairy boy) is obviously biglies, you can shout “Jackanory!”, or more subtly checking your watch and saying “Oh, is it 4.15 already?”

Mathew S

After listening to a fantasist regale us with tall tales, we would sing the theme tune to Storybook International . This was an ITV programme with animated opening titles of a suspiciously elegant bard. His beautiful singing would attract the attention of a fox, until he transformed without warning into a naked black man, scaring the shit out of his vulpine chum. Look, I'm not making this up.

<div class=“image”><iframe width=“480” height=“360” src=“http://www.youtube.com/embed/Rs3X90RLW3A?rel=0" frameborder=“0” allowfullscreen></iframe></div>

Anyway, when he sings about his name in many countries, that's your opportunity to work in the insult. For example: if Roly claimed that his brother had a fight with Wolf from The Gladiators, you would sing:

I'm the Storyteller and my story must be told,
In Germany I'm Johannes, in England I am John,
In Cheltenham I'm Roly, and I'm a lying cunt.

If the liar was actually called John or, God forbid, Johannes, the last line could simply be repaced by a mongoloid impression, and a celebratory flid flippers dance.

Andy M

James Schofield had a particularly vivid imagination when it came to the sixth form girls and their exploits with him. And so he was redubbed “Matty” after Matthew Pearson in Grange Hill. The implication being that not only did he tell lots of lies, but he was getting bummed by his dad.

Slab G

Richard G

One day after it had rained, a few people, destined to become founders of this esteemed financial institution decided to rid themselves of their coppers/ loose change by throwing them into a particularly large, muddy puddle. It was then christened ‘The Bank of Jerusalem’ under the apprehension that it would never need to provide anyone with a withdrawal. This went on for a few days, the bank’s profits were on the verge of £5, as various investors showed off their stauts by making deposits of ever increasing sizes. The puddle was diminishing in size as time went by, thereby becoming all the more muddy, as it’s lower depths began to be revealed.

Sean Garrity obviously saw himself as an enterprising blagger and decided (one breaktime)to liberate the funds from the BoJ to the horror of it’s customers and all gathered. The lucre may have been filthy, but it was his !

OpE

Word got around about these Jews, in utter isolation from reality. Those two worlds colliding during a Nativity service, when James Dunlop read from the New Testament. He managed to finish 'he shall be King of the Jews' before collapsing into laughter, along with the angels and choir.

[anon]

The answer is to calmly intone “Jean-Luc Picard”, then put your hands over your ears, and run away squealing. This is both dignified and mature.

Danny W

So, this is the deal, right? If we say the same thing at the same time, I get to say jinx. And that means you can’t talk until I say your name. If you do talk, I get to punch your arm. OK? So don’t look all hurt and angry when I punch you. You broke a jinx, you deserve it.

Consider this posting a formal notice, served to the world.

Jon B

And another thing, if I ask you a really easy question, then say the answer at the same time, then shout JINX at you, don’t say “well why did you ask me if you know the answer, and why did you just shout jinx?”

Because if you DO say that, you’ll be talking whilst jinxed, and by GOD, I will punch you. (In the arm.)

Jon B

The jinxee, during the jinx, has the lifeline of escaping the curse of silence by anticipating what the jinxer is going to say and saying the same thing, negating the original jinx. This is more difficult when jinxed because you can’t feed questions which might produce predictable results, and if you get it wrong, you get punched. The consequence of this rule is some pretty surreal conversations between the non-jinxed as they try to avoid saying anything that could be remotely guessable. This is also abusable by the original jinxer;

What do you call those people who make bread? Oh, now I remember, and I’m going to say the word after three. 3. 2. 1.
Jinxee, being stupid, says baker.
Jinxer says ‘Jeff’ at the same time and punches jinxer.

Matt F

‘American Jinx (Touch Wood)’

A slightly more complex version of jinx. when a jinxing opportunity arises, shout ‘american jinx, touch wood’. The first person to find some wood and touch it may punch the other person on the arm. Normal jinx rules then apply.

Richard S

French Jinx

I have it from a very reliable source that when a jinx arises in french playgrounds they say “you shall be cuckolded before I”.

Nobody wants to be http://dictionary.reference.com/search?q=cuckolded - not because it’s the fearsome prospect of being married to an unfaithful wife; more because it sounds like it’s got “cock” and “hole” in it, and is therefore referring to the fearsome prospect of your unfaithful mum.

[anon]

Double Jinx, Padlock Jinx

If both children say ‘jinx’ at the same time, then one can declare ‘double jinx’, requiring the first and last name of the jinxee to be spoken to break the jinx. If both children say ‘double jinx’ at the same time, this opens the ‘padlock jinx’, which requires the full name, including all middle names, to be spoken before the jinx was broken.

No-one really bothers with Padlock Jinx, as most people would rather take a beat in the arm than wait until their full name is spoken, especially if their middle name is Adalard, Swimbank or Cakbot2000.

[anon]

Girls are shit at jinx, because they refuse to stop talking when you jinx them - about the new range of Scrunchies in Claire’s Accessories, 87% of the time - and act all gay and go “ow” when you punch them in the arm.

Has anyone else noticed that “ow” is “mo” upside-down? Proof positive. Poof positive. Poof HIV positive. Like your dad. - Log

Harry N

Rob Y

harri k

Gayvid Dadd’s small moment of fame was when we realised his name sounded a tiny bit like god, and we were servants to his every whim for a few days. Then we just beat him up again.

griff

Well, it seems that you can’t believe that someone called Gayvid Dadd got off so lightly…

“Sums up the Welsh, that. You get a manna-from- heaven name like ‘Gayvid Dadd’, and the best you sheep-shagging lackwits can come up with is ‘sounds a bit like God’”. (sane man)

Bit racist, Sane Man, but a point fairly made. Matt Fasham takes the baton…

“With a name like Gayvid Dadd, I’m amazed that anyone bothered to take the piss out of the fact that his name sounded a bit like ‘jod’ or ‘god’. That name is already so pregnant with potential humour that it has burst right out of its maternity dress like a huge beached whale crashing through a tarpaulin. Unless, of course, Gayvid wasn’t his real name. Maybe it was David, and had already been corrupted. Hadn’t thought of that. Even so.” (Matt Fasham)

I thought I’d check for Gayvid Dadd on the internet , and the only result outside of this website is this photo, titled “http://groups.msn.com/lightningsquad/myhouse.msnw?action=ShowPhoto&PhotoID=3028".

<img src=“http://www.disappointment.com/playground/gayviddadd.jpg">

So there you go. We have a Gayvid Dadd (or a David Gadd, which seems depressingly likely), whose only bullying - it would seem - was to be called “God”.

Are YOU a Gayvid Dadd? The LotP team would like to talk to you. Please get in touch immediately.

Jon B

Si F

In an ironic twist, the bitch dumped me when she discovered I was thinking about other women.

[anon]

RL

Peter M

A similar event occured to me after I decided it was funny that my year 6 form tutor had suffered a miscarriage.

“What’s this?” I said, before curling into a ball and being very, very still.

“I dunno…what?” would come the reply. To which I would deliver the killer punchline “Miss Moreland’s dead baby”.

[anon]

I performed a version of this in an art class, which was entited ’the Jill Dando’. It was not strictly a mime because as I was lying on the floor, pretending to be dead, I was also screaming “I aaaaaAAAAAAAAAAMMm Jill Dando”.

Upon seeing this Mr Addicot informed me that I was “Sick”… I reminded him that he was the one who wanted to “…give Billie Piper more than one” .

Luke S

Phil G

Thommo

dirty r

Also known as half-masts. As in ‘Gacco’s kegs are at half-mast again’. More amusing if the wearer also has a ‘seagull’ hairstyle.

kevin B

nick b

Patrick K

Jon B

Jon B

Not to be confused with Jabba the Butt, an elderly, overweight, knuckleless buttery ogre on the till. The trick was to try and get your change back without actually making contact with her Walls pork fingers. She worked in cahoots with Richard Keepthechange, who handed back your receipt with the words, ‘keep the change’. My sides.

Nicknaming supermarket staff remains a phenomenon to this day - my local Morrisons’ has Rod Hull, Moomin and Bully’s Special Prize Man.

Phil J

In Year 11, when Troy was 15, he became engaged to “Jackie D”, who lived in another town, and was indistinguishable from Pamela Anderson. The next day he came in with a ring on his wedding finger, a ring which was made from platinum. Although too small for his finger, the ring was worth many hundreds of pounds. With admirable dignity, Troy kept his mouth shut for weeks on the matter, until one day he arrived at school without his platinum ring. Sadly, Jackie D’s father had found out about the engagement, and beated Troy’s fiancee to death.

Johnzini

Andrew G

Jon B

Alisdair M

“A moins que” was also a good way of letting stupid people announce to the class that they were wankers.

Anna

Ask your attractive lady French teacher to tell you what the French verb for push is. Hearing an attractive woman say pousser - pronounced puss-ay will lead to 13.5 boys* having a misty fantasy of their teacher standing at the top of some stairs, beckoning them through some dry ice and saying do you want to see my puss-ay? .

* Class size of thirty, fifteen boys and girls, minus the ten percent of gayyors.

Richard S

The F

Garth

Actually, there was loads more to it than that just spunk bubbles like a black man’s toothpaste;

Let me tell you a story ‘bout a man named Jed,
Couldn’t find a toilet so he went behind a shed,
Couldn’t find the bogroll so he used a bit of grass,Up popped Ellie May and shot him in the ass.
Next thing you know old Jed’s in bed,

Wanking himself till his balls turned red,
erm, can’t remember the rest rumtitum…
Next thing you know old Jed’s a millionaire,
Selling condoms at 2p a pair,
2p, 4p, even two bob,
It all depends on the size of your knob.

Thank you very much ladies and gentlemen.

[anon]

A more complete version of the second verse runs as follows:

*Next thing you know old Jed’s in bed,

Beating his meat until his dick turns red,

The door swung open, and Granny came through,

He said “Come along granny, and have a wank too”.*

Pogglesnatch

There was a very similar song about our amusingly incompetent Scoutmaster, also called Jed:

*“Right” said Jed,

in the potting shed,

with a naked woman on his head,

with melting mars bars on her tits,

but Jed just sat there, doing shits.*

This was expanded over the course of one scout camp until it had assumed Homeric proportions, but unfortunately I can only remember the first five lines.

The inspiration for this epic came from the contemporary popularity of the band ‘Right Said Fred’, the rumoured existence of mars bar parties (qv), and the fact that Jed was a cock. I mean, what kind of fool would just do poopy when he had a naked woman sitting on his head?

[anon]

Jesus Christ, Superstar

Went round the corner on a Yamaha (also Jaguar, motor car)

Did a skid,

Killed a kid,

Went back to heaven on a dustbin lid.

The idea that Jesus would come to Earth, cause death by reckless driving, then return to heaven - naturally enough - on a flying dustbin lid, was cheerfully sacreligous. Another version;

Jesus Christ, Superstar,

Wears frilly knickers and a Wonderbra

Was more directly and punishably blasphemous.

Peter G

An alternative ending involves the removal of Christ’s testicles by the dustbin lid:

#Jesus Christ, superstar, drove ‘round to school in a Yamaha, did a skid, killed a kid, chopped off his balls with a dustbin lid#

Andrew T

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.

Phil G

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

[anon]

OK, that’s more than enough of that - any more entries to this category and we’ll have to send royalties to Lloyd Webber.

Phil G

I’m afraid there is more. In the Lincoln area, after Jesus has paralysed his bollocks on a dustbin lid, it continues:

‘When I die, bury me,

Hang my bollocks on a cherry tree.

When they’re ripe, take a bite,

But don’t blame me if you fart all night.’

A version imported from Yorkshire was:

‘When I die, bury me,

Hang my bollocks on a cherry tree.

If they grow, let me know,

‘Cause I’ll be listening on the radio.’

The practicalities of grafting human testicles onto a cherry tree, or of gaining radio airtime for an announcement concerning their progress, were not considered, although it is somewhat impressive that in the former version, the lyricist took steps to protect himself against any flatulence-related legal proceedings.

Bobs M

Jesus Christ, Superstar,
Went down the road in a yellow car,
Cops were there,
But he didn’t care,
Cos he had bullet-proof underwear.

Makes Jesus sound a bit like a secret-agent fugitive. But then I went to a Catholic school, where Jesus was considered a lot harder than at yours.

(

‘Cos the thing Jesus needs most is bullet-proof underwear, what with all the shagging he did. “Oh no, my cock-end’s been whipped off by a bullet! Now I’ll never be able to live a celibate life of perfection and virtue!”
I put it to you, Catholic, that your Jesus had already had his cock shot off, and only asked his dad to make bumming a sin in the Old Testament because he tried it once and didn’t like it. I… I’m sorry. Where was I? - Log)

Nick K

Nath S

Paul H

Steve M

Taking this definition a step further, “Jew!” was a game played in our grounds. All the younger kids would gather in the tennis court. At this point they’d be locked in by big kids. Now the older kids take turn at throwing pennies into the tennis court. To ‘win’ you have to rescue the penny from your other friends in the tennis court. This penny is your ride to freedom, without a penny you will stay in the tennis courts forever, or until the bell rings, whichever comes first. Fun game, but a lot of kids got hurt.

Alex L

‘jew run’ - a footballing term describing the glory-seeking pitch-length run of the boy who wanted to score the goal.

Thus, if someone selfishly hogged the ball it was called a ‘jew run’.

In my innocence, I always assumed that what was being said was ‘due’, as in ‘due respect’. It was only recently that I discovered the anti-semitic overtones of our playground taunts. Obviously I pissed myself.

[anon]

‘jewish flick’ - another semitic footballing term. This refers to an attempt to control a ball that is behind you by bending your knee and raising your foot to around arse-height. Almost always unsuccessful.

Popular in the playgrounds of North London, hence the name, which is consequently not actually anti-Semitic. Consequently, not actually that funny.

[anon]

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.

space m

Matt P

Whilst the wobbling voice of the male teenager going through ’the change’ is undoubtedly hilarious, it is much funnier when it happens to a 13-year old girl with the build of a Greco-Roman wrestler, who then goes on to get engaged to a 40-year old computer programmer at the age of 15. Rock on, Charlotte.

Andy G

Jon B

Jon B

An attempt by a teacher to stop people using Joey as an insult was actually quite successful. As Joey had gone on to succeed despite his condition, this meant that calling Matthew a " Joey " was actually a compliment. He was promptly re-christened " Spastic Matthew “, before he left the school.

hans b

A fine game for four players, helped if the fourth player is an unwitting stooge. The first player would herald a new game by saying “Joey A-con”. A rush would then ensue to get in “Joey B-con” and “Joey C-con”. The player left with “Joey D-con” would be roundly subjected to various spacker noises and comedy flailing hands.

Ottoman N

aCTUALLY HAD A JOEY DEACON AT ME SCHOOL, HE WAS AND ALL, AND HE USED TO COME TO SCHOOL AND GO HOME IN A GREEN AMBULANCE

(Playgroundlaw Uncovered: We’ve left this submission unedited so you can see why it takes three grown adults, a bumper box of Lustral and a bottle of Tequila Rosé to edit all your submissions into something reasonable. Remember, it’s the fish John West reject that makes John West’s fish the best. Or something. –The Team)

The W

Same idea as Ottoman’s, but we’d first start with “joe-a”, “joe-b” etc. Happless victim ends up with “joe-e”. After much laughter and pointing, we’d move on to round 2 - “a-con” etc. The victim usually half cottoned on, so your mates’d leave a slight pause after “c-con”. Victim usually jumped at chance of getting in early (or so they thought) to beat mate no 5 and shouts “d-con”. Double the laughter and pointing.

[anon]

An interesting, if not particularly amusing, historical footnote…

The name Joey also morphed to suggest ‘man-servant’ or ‘slave’. If, for example, you were good enough to respond to a schoolmate’s request to pass the tomato sauce, you were more likely to be met with a sarky “cheers, Joey” than a “thank you very much”. Even if the recipient responded gratefully, the rest of your mates would ask “what are you… his Joey?”

Derek M

Ian H

It followed the life of a boy who simply couldn’t stop swearing, thanks to a disease. As it was educational, none of the swearing was censored. His mother dropped a plant pot and spilled some soil - John came out with “mum, you cunt”. The supermarket scenes were also a gutter treat.

At this time, state-sanctioned crudity was rare, and we loved it.

John was locked into the cupboard by his teacher because he wouldn’t stop swearing. This is even funnier - imagine an OFSTED inspection with a cupboard that is wobbling and swearing!

Inspector : What is in that cupboard?

Teacher : It is a wobbling swearing cupboard, like the wobbling swearing plant out of The Adventure Game.

Inspector : Very good. Take it out and burn it.

Teacher : But… but…

Inspector : But nothing - burn it now! Here are the matches, burn it now in front of me!

Teacher : OK. I suppose.

The day after John’s Not Mad was the filthiest day of playground talk I can ever recall. It is still surprising that so many children actually watched a documentary… To hear scenes, http://www.disappointment.com/joeydeacon/johnsnotmad/.

Jon B

Brilliantly, John of John’s Not Mad fame was on This Morning…er, this morning screeching and flailing as he promoted the DVD of the show, on which he provides a bonus commentary track.

Way to reclaim the humour for yourself, fella. Buy it http://www.amazon.co.uk/exec/obidos/ASIN/B00013KCPE/ref=sr_aps_dvd_1_1/026-4555662-4390852.

You might also like to review the DVD.

Darren C

Bobby S

One particularly inept maths teacher once mistakenly announced while trying to explain the wonders of ‘volume’: ‘Now here I have drawn a pair of jugs on the board. You will note that one is larger than the other…’

Teacher exits stage left, hilarity ensues.

Em B

Daz A

A less playful variant involved rolling a child in the sick.

Barbara

Lee N

Matt F