Night of the Burning Arseholes
Poor, dead Mr Harman.

Our metalwork teacher was a teaching God, and always, always had a story that would have you crying with laughter whilst trying to operate rapidly rotating machinery.

I'll never forget the day we were supposed to be setting up for the school Christmas Carol concert at the local church - we finished the job in ten minutes, and sat round, smoking and playing cards as he told his stories of night-shifts in the engineering factory where he worked before he went into teaching.

If somebody was skiving off in the toilet, he said, they'd go upstream, and float a burning oily rag down, until it reached the primitive hole-in-the-ground shitter... "That always taught the fucker," he said as we roared so much the vicar came running in thinking there was a riot.

We shall never see his like again. He taught us stuff too.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 17 Mar 2011, 12:05, 4 replies)

His Name
Wasn't Mad Harry was it?
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 17 Mar 2011, 12:07, closed)

Barmy 'Army
And I have no reason to believe he lied
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 17 Mar 2011, 12:35, closed)

Or
Billy Connolly
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Thu 17 Mar 2011, 12:14, closed)

Scary
I expect you will win this comp. And place and show.
(TDub Nunc id vides, nunc ne vides on, Sat 19 Mar 2011, 7:36, closed)