The details of his journey (by the elephant, which he kept tied up in the bike shed) became increasingly elaborate and this was made all the more charming (or insulting, depending on whether or not you are Ramish) by the fact that we didn't know a single thing about India, or Indian culture.

log : I love this, but I get the feeling I'd love it more if you told me about these misinformed fantasies. If you can remember any of the best, please share…

rob s

They generally revolved around the indisputable fact that â€" like almost everyone in India â€" Ramish was some sort of king there. Unfortunately, his kingdom consisted mostly of ill-described mud huts, coconuts, bananas and little else. Also Tarzan was there sometimes.

Anyway, Ramish’s authority in his Indian kingdom was absolute and he regularly staged mass executions involving the coconuts. And he had exactly one hundred wives. Frankly, I’m not sure why he came back for double French in the afternoons. I probably wouldn’t have bothered.

The one thing we actually did know for certain about India is that all the elephants there have handprints painted on them. Therefore Ramish’s elephant was daubed with graffiti, mostly concerning his dad.

And rightly so, because his dad was a colonel in Ramish’s army and responsible for a genocide against whoever it was that Indians didn’t like. I think it might have been some other Indians.

Come to think about it, the genocide business is probably why Ramish’s dad moved to Darlington in the first place. It all finally makes sense.

rob s

Squatting naked before a circle of encouraging adolescent boys, he parted his buttocks with both hands and duly delivered an inch of log from his dilated anus. So far so good, but before his piece de resistance could ensure his legendary status, an involuntary spasm prematurely snipped the turd.

An gasp swept through the crowd. It was like watching a high-wire walker sway from side to side. A high-wire walker whose arsecheeks were festooned with bob.

He was forced to waddle from the changing room to the toilet, to wipe his chuff. He returned clutching a ball of toilet paper, atop of which was a solid lump of shit. Sensing he had face to regain, he planted the stool to the forehead of James Turner, the computer-liking type who had been trying to get changed without getting involved.

Turner's reaction of disbelief at this squalid turn of events inpired instant remorse from Richard, who offered “I'm sorry James, that was too far. You know I'd stand up for you if I ever saw you in trouble.”

Like, if someone had daubed your face with shit.

Mark R

[anon]

Phil and Charlie, both retarded, are taking turns jumping on a wooden bench. Phil then flips out and jumps on the bench non-stop until the slats splinter.

Charlie shrieks and then turns to Phil: “Phillip, I told we should not play Fall Guy.”

Phil turns to me and points menacingly: “Don’t tell nobody I did that.”

They both scamper away.

[anon]

He took me to one side and showed me the rabbit’s foot, making it form a fist by pulling on the tendon hanging out of the back.

I’d never spoken to him before - the fact that he showed me alone made me feel very special. Does this mean I’m a gayer?

Yes.

uncle m

However, we soon found a safe room, which was half way up the main flight of stairs, and therefore inaccessible to Daleks. Ironically enough, this was the room that had been allocated to the disabled students.

Graham B

“I kicked the ball so hard it went round the world and hit you in the back of the head,” and so forth.

Boasting that your cock is so big it encircles the globe is likely to backfire, as any pelvic thrusting on your part will lead to inadvertant penetration of your own arse.

The Boy T

For the record, mine don’t smell of potatoes, raw or otherwise, and these days, I’d be quite happy for you to pop round for a sniff. My address is: the remainder of this entry has been witheld.

[anon]

Gareth and Joe walked to school together everyday. One day, Gareth told Joe that he felt sick because he had to share bath water with his brother. He had waited for his brother to get out, then got in himself and washed his face with the water, but his brother then told him he had done a piss in the bath.

Became;

Gareth’s brother pissed into the water in front of Gareth and then Gareth drank the water. Once.

Became;

Gaz lets his brother piss into his mouth. REGULARLY.

Became;

Gareth ALWAYS begs his brother to piss into his mouth, because he loves pissdrinking SO DAMN MUCH.

Became;

Gareth CONSTANTLY sucks his brother off in the bath. So much so, it’s amazing he has time to come to school.

Became;

Joe having to go into hiding for the rest of that week, as Gareth tried to track him down to kick his teeth in.

[anon]

The rumour mill worked overtime for this one:

Rufus once bit his lip in front of the school vicar.

And thus:

Rufus said ‘fuck’ in front of the vicar

Begat…

Rufus told the vicar to fuck off.

Begat…

Rufus pushed the vicar and told him to fuck off.

Begat…

Rufus twatted the actual Pope .

[anon]

This seems as good a forum as any to state; David Craig, once and for all, I don’t care what your mum says my mum said in 1982, I did NOT have stitches on my cock when I was cicumcised.

Drew S

Matty Johnson was visiting his equally vaucous and football-obsessed would-be criminal friend David Warburton one night at his home. Warby, keen to impress his friend, set about beating up his younger brother at various points during the evening.

At one point, Warby went off on his own to continue the job and had been gone some time. But when Matty went to investigate, what he actually heard was Warby’s brother, ever so faintly saying, “stop it, David. It hurts”, behind their closed bedroom door.

Naturally, it was assumed that Warby fucked his brother regularly and to commemorate this discovery, Billy Brown brought in a tape of that song that goes “he’s my brother” and played it in the form room.

James C

1991, and Matty was staying over at Taylor’s house. Taylor’s mum and dad had gone out and when they returned, Taylor’s parents sent the two fourteen year olds off to bed in a perfectly normal fashion. The following day, when viewed through the inexplicable filter of rumour madness, this gradually:

Became: Taylor’s mum and dad came back pissed up and sent the lads packing.

Became: Taylor’s dad was drunkenly groping Taylor’s mum whilst slurring ‘It’s OK, love, the lads are going upstairs now’.

Became: Taylor’s mum and dad went into the kitchen to have it off, regardless of who was where in the house.

Became: They were so pissed up and randy, they had sex IN THE OVEN while Taylor cried.

Needless to say Matty, who was recounting the story, remained cool and aloof throughout the sordid carry-on.

Spaghetti H

Mind you, if you are so sexually insecure as to feel the need to ask that particular question, you’re probably gay anyway. Again, doomed.

[anon]

<img src=“http://image.com.com/mp3/images/cover/200/drd700/d758/d758203sn18.jpg">

Andy M

Ahhh B

Referred to as the Reverse Kanga in Australia, it made an appearance in the highly-criticized fifth season of ‘Big Brother’. It is so-called because the squatting position one needs to assume is much like that of a kangaroo, which is having a backwards-facing shit in a toilet.

[anon]

Because of their ethnic origin, it was widely acknowledged that the sheds were in this state because Rosie, James and their parents ate too much curry; first year R.E. dictating anyone from India ate curry and first year biology dictating that eating curry led to guffs-a-plenty.

To keep Anglo/Indian diplomatic relations healthy, an enterprising group of us took to throwing our sandwiches out of the bus window as we passed the farm, figuring that Rosie and James’ bowels needed all the normal food they could get. When Rosie, who at the time was too young to attend senior school, began to wait at the bottom of the drive when the bus went past, the rain of uneaten lunches turned into a downpour.

The sheds were still ramshackle, though, and when it was eventually pointed out that Rosie was actually waiting for her brother to get off the bus, the sandwich throwing stopped. Our generosity turned to anger and we just threw whatever came to hand - text books, eggs, and even water balloons were popular for a while, but no-one managed to top Kevin’s inspired “Do-it-all Painting and Decorating Guide”.

Looking back now, the most tear-jerking thing about the whole sorry story is that *everything* we threw from the bus would be gone the next day. Their farm might have been a shithole but those Indians certainly kept their drive clean.

Nick H

1. Object Breaking: This consisted of breaking pencils with your head; starting with one, and steadily increasing the number of pencils until you couldn’t break any more. This craze ended abruptly when one young protege rendered himself unconcious attempting to break a thick piece of plywood stolen from wood tech.

2. Noseology: The study of how far an object can be inserted up one’s nose. The most popular items were Lego bricks, which were removed on every occasion by the school nurse with a pair of tweezers. In attempting to put my school mates to shame I managed to trap a kidney bean in my sinus which my sister informed me would grow into my brain and slowly kill me. Luckily, I sneezed it out a few days later. PHEW!

Akram S

*Who takes it?

Rammy takes it,

Right up the batty hole.*

This grew in popularity to such a level that impromptu renditions, often involving the entire class singing repeated verses in close harmony, became commonplace in most lessons.

The dance remix was inevitable, but still welcomed.

[anon]

Ponky P

Geeks sometimes get to play one of those funny big recorders.

In fact, those ‘funny big recorders’ were not for geeks - only the coolest people (me) got to play the Bass Recorder . Bass Recorders are to regular gay recorders as the Bass Guitar is to the mandolin. People openly envied me, and my gigantic plastic Aulos.

Similar to penises, the bigger the recorder, the more prestige. Strikingly similar to penises in another way, the tip of my recorder had an ‘old spit’ smell to them that no amount of rubbing on my jumper sleeve could remove. Teethmarks, too.

[anon]

After playing several rounds of London’s Burning, the recorder will fill up with lovely spittle. Remove the top and you have a flobby wand, from which you can flick your cool, refreshing spray at the bitch-girls in front or the nerdy gimp on the glockenspiel.

scary m

Bass recorder players only ever had about 2 notes to play throughout the entire tune. But the tenor was best. Please don’t print my name.

Righto.

Aly

Being a shower of cheap bastards, our school made us buy our own recorders. Anyone turning up without one was forced to play one of the special school recorders. These were nasty, communal, wooden recorders that had had all the lacquer abraded off them by year after year of applications of schoolkid spit. As a result, they were always unpleasantly damp. So, if you played one, you would, of course, catch AIDS from it, particularly if you had chapped lips.

If you refused to play it, our freakishly large music teacher would stand silently in front of your seat, his groin at the level of your face, with his mouth hanging open in a vaguely sexual way until you started playing.

Naturally, this would also give you AIDS, chapped lips or no. We didn’t forget our recorders very often.

The Unfortunatly Nam F

The boomerangs were banned that day, and the craze was swiftly replaced by football stickers. Martin tried his best to hurt Gareth with these, but sadly failed.

Tony G

aiden c

Name W

Answering the questions in RE using drawings is the most fun I have ever had while in an exam. From the question about racial discrimination (where I showed a grinning skinhead giving the finger to a weeping blackman with the words “Let’s Kick Racism Out of Religious Education” scribble underneath), via the question on the pros and cons of Euthanasia (several pictures of gory, assisted suicides), to using the spare pages to write a two and a half page essay, complete with diagrams, on how I was, is, and always will be a better artist than Neil Buchanan.

My final mark - 11/100: All but one I gained on a half arsed unfinished piece of coursework.

Vincent C

Correctly executed, the initial stages of the riser bear a remarkable similarilty to the approach of the High Jump, with its curved run up and hilariously elongated stride.

Noone got hurt until one day someone inadvertently bent down to pick something up, and Simon Gotch broke his wrist. We were all more careful after that. Well, a bit.

harris t

Lianachan

It was always suggested that you could ’tie them in a knot’ (presumably for ‘day’wear) and ’tie them in a bow’ (for more formal occasions).

Kev

One afternoon Richard Randall started his trademark descent from the top floor. Something clearly went awry, because instead of enjoying a few seconds of sliding bliss, he plummeted to the floor at bottom of the stairwell.

As a direct consequence of the event, slightly weedy looking ‘safety bannisters’ were welded onto all bannisters in the school, bringing their height to about 2 metres - far too high to slide down. These were immediately christened ‘Randallbars’.

Nimrod G

Only now can I assume that he was being abused at home every night, and in fact I was contributing to an existence more miserable than I can ever dream of.

If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s a victim.

Andy M

Apparatus

Lab stool (with hole seat for easy lifting)

Ruler

Pyrex beaker / test tube

Any two chemicals

Method

• Inform classmate you are going to demonstrate ‘rocket science’.
• Seat classmate on lab stool at desk.
• Place chemical in beaker.
• Count down from 10 as you prepare to add second chemical.
• On ‘zero’, accomplice jabs ruler upwards through hole in lab stool.

Result

We have lift off.

shaun a

It was considered to be an honour if you were chosen to be Roy Bird’s special helper. At dinner time, he would randomly select an individual from the group clamoured around him, by method of getting another group member to spin around, eyes closed and point to a person.

The winner got to accompany Roy in tasks such as aggravating the school retard, and collecting cigarette nubs from behind the 6th form block.

(Out of interest, http://images.google.com/images?q=%22roy%20bird%22&hl=en&lr=&sa=N&tab=wi, and you get… gasp! It’s Fred West! A bit.)

[anon]

Approach a male friend, and make him agree, for the purpose of this conversation to use the phrase “Right On!” to signify “Yes”, and to use its logical opposite, “Right Off”, to mean “No”.

Next, ask a series of fairly benign yes/no questions, for example:

1/ “Is your name [their name]?”

2/ “Have you ever got in trouble with the headteacher?”

3/ “Have you ever kissed a girl/[insert girls name]?”

Finally, ask " have you ever pulled a boy’s willy off? "

[anon]

Kudos comes from both the duration of the ride and the harshness of the insult.

( As adults, a sexier version of this game arises, in which you say someone else’s name in bed while you’re inside the sex hole. After that, see how long you can stay inside. However, it’s worth remembering that having your cock in a non-consenting sex hole is tantalisingly close to rape )

Jon B

How Mr Shaw got from hating squirrels to worshipping the infernal beasts as his masters will presumably never be known - Conor

[anon]

Kids were buying armfuls of the stodgy buggers,hoping to get one with that elusive blue biro cross that “proved” it had been injected with poison. Rumour had it that shopkeepers began to randomly mark Mars bars to sate the endless thirst for Work, Rest, and Death.

This led to a bizarre forms of playground bullying ever seen; a child would be forced by pogrom to consume a “tainted” Mars bar, after which he or she would be detained to allow the court to “observe the effects”. Generally this would involve bad play-acting by the accused in a misguided attempt to make the court feel first guilty, then panicked, ideally summoning a teacher. Needless to say, this was wishful thinking, and the victim was “buried at sea” by hurling them bodily down a hill.

Nowadays we would be eating poisoned chocolate so we could sue for compensation. In 1986, we simply didn’t have an excuse that good.

Ed R

gav 9

Jon B

Surely that should be Turdis?

[anon]

Damn. An autistic friend and I thought of this name for a device, too, but in our case “Retardis” was the name of a machine which harnessed the unpredictability of retards to travel through time.

[anon]

Conversely, if someone rubs their eye with their forefinger, it is a sign that they are stupid, and have rubella. If someone actually had rubella, presumably they’d be rubbing their eye and being retarded like in the advert, so we never bothered with that one.

Jon B

Thanks chief.
Cheers, boss.
Nice one, governor.
Nice work, squire.
Ta, er… Lance Corporal…
Um… At ease, Archbishop.
As you were, Mayor?

Rob Y

Gary use his to measure his cock. Colin who, in hindsight was probably a gaylord, offered to help, and marked in green felt where it rose to.

When it came to measuring in the future, the ruler with the green felt tip at the 8cm mark was one to be avoided.

Leigh H

• A word would be seriously mispronounced (for example, the Christopher Frame Orange-Ootang incident). This word would become one’s nickname for the foreseeable future.
  </ol>A third, more dangerous path, was to add references to the last film you had seen into the book you were reading, largely by shouting “pyow, you’re dead meat sucka” in the middle of Charlotte’s Web.

petrocelli

In the customary, desperate attempt to be cool, our English teacher insisted that we read from the cowboy novel, “Shane”, in an American accent.

To help us attain the desired Western drawl, we were encouraged to eat Toffo sweets, like the toffee-chewin’, kiddy-fiddlin’ cowboy from the TV ads.

[anon]

harri k

Conor F

Once the teacher becomes aware of engine noises, students are free to roar with gay abandon, mimicking whichever vehicle they damn well please.

hugo z

Extra mileage could be garnered by grasping the handles of an invisible motorbike and starting it up, as though on a cold day. “Remmm. Remmememem. REMemememEMEMEMEM (twist throttle) REEEEMMMM! Reeeeeeemmm, reeeeeemmmm, rerrrrmmmmm.” And so on. This was not insulting the mentally ill, it was merely making motorbike noises near them. Even God would find it hard to spot the hidden sneer.

Susan T

I’m glad this exists as I now know what my boss means when he uses the phrase ‘Rembo’

Dan

[anon]

I concur - and the fact that he acted like your best mate once you were in the sixth form didn’t make up for the fact that he’d acted like a cunt in all the previous five. But I digress – Phil

Doc

I could never perfect the whipping action, which made it all the more surprising when I caught Francis Gotto on the end of his cock with an absolute corker of a flick. However, something (I presume a label from my towel) went flying off just as the crack (and subsequent howl of agony) happened. For a few horrid seconds I was convinced that I had literally whipped the top of his dick off like popping some sort of phallic champagne cork. Images of expulsion and/or prison rampaged unchecked through my head.

I never rat’s tailed anybody again.

Rik B

(The image is only improved by the idea that Widdler was waving a knife around at the time… - Log)

Pink W

I had the same misinterpretation for several years. The source: my older sister’s 70’s “horror” book “Flowers in the Attic”. On the mostly-black front cover there was the cheery tag-line: “Kidnapped, Raped, Murdered”. Beneath this there was a picture of some bloody scissors which, I presumed at the time, were used for raping.

[anon]

The first time I ever heard about it was when a woman was raped and murdered by some shops near where I used to live during my infants school days.

I actually thought it was ‘raked’, and for years lived under the mistaken impression that the poor lady was gardened to death.

She deserved it. She was a hoe-er. Pffffffff!!!! - Mansh

Harry N

By coating a radiator with snot and phlegm and leaving it to bake hard, it is possible to ‘grow’, over the course of a few weeks, a material akin to snakeskin. Further prosthetic enhancements (especially ears and lips) can be made from the Hubba Bubba mountains on the undersides of the desks.

All you need to do then is find someone on whom to perform a unique makeover.

Donkey K

[anon]

John C

Mark H

Kirsty B

The Lord of the Raggers attended our school. His name was Colin, and his father owned a Spar-type convenience store.

Colin would steal entire boxes of Mars Bars from his father’s store, and dole them out to popular kids, who would suffer his awfulness for as long is it took to grab a handful of chocolate and run away.

Quick sums :

Price of chocolate bar : 20p

Number of chocolate bars in box : 48

Time taken to distribute all bars : 2 minutes

Cost of Ragger-Popularity : £288 per hour

ross f

Conor F

(It’s the detail of “A level” French that does it for me. Hee hum. –Susan.)

RL

Simian S

The game was quickly outlawed when a 4th year was almost crushed by a rucksack containing 6 bricks, assorted textbooks and a BBC Micro.

Chris

[anon]

These are actually known as quoits. Women and attentive male heterosexuals will know that they are eerily reminiscent of the neck of the cervix. Or the neck of the cervix is eerily reminiscent of a quoit. Whichever. -Susan.

Paul C

Quoits are used for various cunning tortures including throwing one at point-blank range into Jamie’s face, and rubbing the perished and cracked rubber in a sawing action on Jamie’s head.

Before you begin to think that we were extremely cruel to Jamie, be advised that Jamie did ballet, was proud of it and once performed it in assembly in front of the whole school wearing tights.

[anon]

See, he chose to do accountancy - only so did every waster in the year. He happened to sit at a row of tables beside three girls - each one called Laura. All through the class, he’d hear the chant “Robbie is a Laura” sung by those in the back rows. Eventually, this worked it’s way around the whole year and everywhere he went he was greated to the same chant. Someone even made an “I Am A Laura” badge, presented to him on his birthday in assembly.

Poor fella.

Brendan T

Ben B

My dinosaur friends were Righty and Lefty. Righty was the good one, always saving princesses and the like, whereas Lefty would invariably end up dead.

In addition, I have chewed ink cartridges for my own enjoyment, and dearly wish I had been paid 20p for it.

[anon]

My friend and I enjoyed nothing more than recreating in Attenborough-esque detail the savage zoological struggle for survival on the desk tops. My hands would form the “predators” in exactly the same way as Roger above. My friend would take on the role of the “pogolopes”, a 3-legged creature made up of his first two fingers and a thumb. The predators would invariably maul the pogolopes until in a move of evolutionary brilliance the pogolopes learned to jump to great heights and escape the predators clutches. In response, the predators evolved to leap and float down with their legs spread like a parachute.

Nobody ever questioned any of this. We were 17.

[anon]

My ‘finger friend’ was the Half-Blind Raccoon. He was created by painting your thumbnail black and adding half a black raccoon mask to your middle finger. Then you would place the black nail over the missing half of the mask and wiggle your fingers. It was obligatory to yell ‘half-blind raccoon’ whilst shoving it in a nearby classmates face.

Try as I might, I can’t visualise how on God’s Earth this works. If anyone wants to send in a photo, please be my guest. - Matt

[anon]

Any phallus drawn on one’s books or pencil-case could be rapidly and effortlessly transformed into a Rudey.

Paul Equinox C

Dupli C

Pantsboy

Rain-bones flying high.

Shoot the little Cheese-man’s children,

Kill them till they die.

Over all the streets and houses,

Rain-bones turned to green.

3-4 Methelyn-dioxy-

Meth-amphetamine.

Shall we go and Napalm Browntown,

With a chickens head?

Why has mr Tidmann got a small boy,

With him in his bed?

Mr Tidmann was an RE teacher, who had once said ’everyone goes through a homosexual phase. I know I have.'

[anon]

Ever so slightly less sophisticated adaptation of the Rainbow theme song:

Up above the streets and houses

Geoffrey flying high.

Opens up his hairy legs

And shits in Bungle’s eye.

Also see:

Up above the streets and houses

Geoffrey flying high.

Bungle gets his big cock out

And pokes him in the eye.

Note: This is NOT a cue for an endless torrent of Rainbow theme versions - unless you know a really good one about Rod, Jane and Freddy rainbow kissing. - Ponky

Sherm Shot L

You’d have thought that poking Geoffrey in the eye with his cock would be sweet ursine revenge enough for Bungle, but no…

Bungle stuck his bum out the window

Shat in Geoffrey’s eye

Geoffrey said “You bastard Bungle,

You are gonna die”

Paint…Geoffrey’s…face…with…a…Big poo!".

Doof doof dodo dododoof!

Geoffrey can give it out, but he doesn’t like it back! You get plus marks for the Eastenders style drums at the end, but did you not hear what Ponky said? I don’t see ANY mention of Rod Jane & Freddy doing it Frenchie style here. - Mansh

[anon]

Jon B

I have heard that the female participant should have a mouth chock-full of jizzum ready for when the male participant offers her his gift. It is said that the ensuing mix of bodily fluids affords a far more appealing ‘rainbow’ effect.

[anon]

That’s not what it is at all. A rainbow kiss is an immediate post-blowjob frenchie, with the semen swirled between the mouths of the amorous young lovers. I know this to be true, because an older boy from another school told me on camp.

(Thanks to Dr Ringpiece for pointing out that this practice is actually called snowballing .)

Dr R

Both right, both wrong. It’s a 69 while she’s got the painters in. After geezer cums in lady’s mouth (though to describe her as a lady is dubious) they mix up the semen and the menstrual blood in a joyous tribute to their dirty yet loving relationship. True lovers swallow it too. The mingers.

Carlos t

TonyG

Lawrence G

Paddy

Jeff

Jon B

Heh. I just thought of this one in the pub last night, so file under red todgers for “celebrity spoonerisms you think of 20 years too late, and have since been referenced lightly on the b3ta boards when you google them”.

Remember that DJ? The presenter of zany children’s gameshow Funhouse, and the hairier 50% of “Haven’t Stopped Dancing Yet” legends Pat ’n’ Mick?

I give you Shat Parp.

Jon B

YES I DID MEAN FUNHOUSE NOT MADHOUSE AND I’VE CHANGED THE ORIGINAL ENTRY NOW ANYWAY SO I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE TALKING ABOUT AND WHO LOOKS STUPID NOW? NOT ME THAT IS FOR SURE.

AARRAAGH

Jon B

Laurence G

Jared

Note similarity between rescue squadron and plot for Impossible Mission 2.

Jon B

And America’s middle-east policy.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Rory Bremner has left the building.

[anon]

TonyG

Chunder

I once used a Resusci-Annie to fail a four fucking day first aid course I had to do. Apparently I had “broken all her ribs and probably used one to puncture her lung”. I followed this up by “willfully allowing a casualty to drown in his own blood”. My appeal, based on the grounds that anyone could easily hold their breath for a fucking minute or so, was cruelly denied.

Jimbo B

[anon]

Lee N

Me: God, you really are crap.

Ridley: No, you’re crap.

Just less imaginative than “what you say is what you are”.

Bedslug

Also in this category are flat and unwavering denials of a blatant truth, such as the colour of your hair, or whether you have buttoned up your shirt one button off.

Jon B

Kevin C

Dan W

Poppy

Peter G

Peter G

Kellog

Igor

2: okay.

1: What did you eat for breakfast?

2: Rubber balls and liquor.

1: What did eat for lunch?

2: Rubber balls and liquor.

1: What are you going to eat for dinner?

2: Rubber balls and liquor.

1: What are you going to do to your girlfriend tonight?

2: Rubber balls and liquor.

The idea of kid #2’s having a girlfriend with a set of testicles, and kid #2’s confession of rubbing and licking them proved to be an endless source of absurd merriment.

Mike

Christopher H

Gareth J

Stephen D

Al P

Rocky Shore P

Gibbon B