» Eccentrics

My old technology teacher
I went to a private boys' school. There were many weird and wonderful teachers whom I encountered during my seven years there, but there is one I shall always remember before the rest. I shall call him Mr H.

Mr H - an almost completely bald man in his 40s - took Technology classes. For those who did not have such subjects at school, this was basically D.I.Y, with some electronics introduced in later years. All boys were required to sit on stools placed around workbenches, while wearing white aprons, and to have their plastic safety goggles close at hand while Mr H instructed us in the finer points of sawing wood, etc.

Looking back now, it's hard to see how Mr H got away with behaving the way he did: but when we were 11, we just took it all in our strides. Let me try to begin to paint a picture.

Mr H would never refer to any boy by his name. When wanting to quiz students, he would whirl round and point his finger, and ask "That boy there". Most of the time, everyone was That Boy There. The rest of the time, they were "Percy Scroggins". This was his generic name for people, as an alternative to "Fred Bloggs", for example. He referred to his pointing finger as "The Flying Fickle Finger of Fate".

If the hapless boy could not answer the question, he would be labelled a "thickie doughnut". This is a phrase which Mr H would use 10-15 times per lesson, and every pupil was very familiar with it.

Mr H constantly alluded to punishment for misdemeanours. His favourite form of mock-justice would be to tell a boy to "have a Saturday" - referring to a Saturday detention. If he were in a slightly saucy mood - which he was all the time - he would tell a boy to "go and have a cold shower at LEH" (LEH being the name of the nearby girls' school). As the boy in question would hesitate in the face of the inappropriate line, Mr H would add: "You can keep your socks on if you're shy!"

The room in which Technology was taught was festooned with workshop machinery: pillar drills, vices, band saws, lathes etc. Mr H would never refer to any of these by name however. Every single one of them was an "Oscillating Swivel Gromit".

Oh yes - and he drove a hearse.

Good times!
(Thu 30th Oct 2008, 21:46, More)

» Siblings

My sister and the Roses
My sister and I both love Cadbury's Roses. We both have the same favourite: the strawberry cream; and the same least favourite: the coffee cream.

They've changed the shapes now, but in years gone by, you will remember that both of these chocolates were exactly the same shape: a dome. The only way to tell them apart was by their wrappers. The strawberries were pink, and the coffees were brown.

You can probably guess what's coming - but the thing I'm most proud of is that I managed to pull off the same trick, year in, year out, for about 6 years in a row. I would take a strawberry cream and unwrap it very carefully, so the foil wrapper did not tear. I would eat the chocolate, and then unwrap a coffee cream. Then I would proceed to very carefully wrap the coffee cream in the strawberry cream's wrapper, so that it would be indistinguishable from the real thing.

Getting my sister to eat the first one, the first year, was easy: I just offered it to her. The look on her face as the taste developed was priceless.

Subsequently, I have taken to leaving the fake chocolate in the tin - sitting at the top, in the middle. Since it's her favourite chocolate, there's a good chance that she will reach for it next.

Every year she falls for it :)
(Sat 27th Dec 2008, 16:28, More)

» Common

Common/ugly speech
For a long time, I used to think that I despised some accents. I myself speak The Queen's English - and while I could perfectly well accept some different accents, others would grate on me painfully.

Later, however, on further analysis I realised that it was not the accents which were the problem at all: it's simply a matter of whether the speaker is able to enunciate his or her words clearly.

I have heard Scottish people speaking beautifully. A heavily-accented, but well-spoken Glaswegian is music to my ears.

What I do despise with a passion, however - as I consider it the lowest of the low - is where people slur their speech, mumble, strain, screech and generally turn the poetry that could be the English language, into ugly sewage which should not be inflicted upon anyone.

Take American accents, for example. For years I regarded them as nasal and whiny. But I have since heard American spoken properly - and it is actually quite pleasant. An example: listen to Kelsey Grammer, who played Frasier. His speech is crisp and clear - and pleasant - and thoroughly American. There's nothing at all wrong with accents which are not RP: but the indication of the lowest classes is where people do not care enough about their language to speak it properly.
(Sat 18th Oct 2008, 17:30, More)

» Being told off as an adult

I don't remember having been told off as an adult myself, but...
I've got quite a few other adults told off in my time.

Most recently, I was running for a bus when, as I approached the doors, the driver closed them in my face. I knocked on the window, but the driver just gave a smirk and drove off. It is important to note that when I knocked, the bus was not actually moving: the driver could have let me on, but the smug twunt forced me to wait for the next one.

I shall not be treated like this.

Boiling with rage as the bus drove away, I noted down the registration number. Later that day, I looked up the address of the operator and wrote a letter to them detailing what happened.

A couple of weeks later, I received a reply saying that they had managed to identify the driver in question, and taken disciplinary action against him.

Result!

I took great karmic pleasure in picturing this bus driver being admonished in the office like a naughty schoolchild.
(Fri 21st Sep 2007, 23:56, More)

» Tales of the Unexplained

The spookiest unexplained thing I have ever seen
Has an article about it:

Here
(Sat 5th Jul 2008, 17:04, More)