Pre-internet b3ta
In secondary school (year 8 as I remember), I had the rare pleasure of creating and curating a then-legendary volume, known among my peers simply as 'the Book'.

Being 12 and 13 years old, on the cusp of full-blown pubedom, we boys inevitably had a fixation with genitals. And being pretty handy with a biro, it soon became clear that I could scrawl a decent cock with the best of them. "What we need," thought I, "is some sort of secret compendium, a place where all these fine cocks can be privately showcased together, in all their blue glory, somewhere that adults will never see them."

Thus began the Book – a racing-green jotter pilfered from the stationary cupboard, which soon became home to a riotous proliferation of all things puerile and true. It started with CDCs, but rapidly progressed to intricate, expressionist cocks that spanned double page spreads, serpantine schlongs garrotting the headmaster, cavernous yawning minges, sordid and hopelessly ignorant tales of impossible, ridiculous sex acts, sketched and written with all the joy and under-the-desk haste that only the ever-present threat of discovery can inspire.

The Book became a home away from home for me and my classmates. "Get the Book out, Shanker," they'd whisper, and we'd spend ten minutes silently hysterical from the latest offerings I'd whipped up, occasionally at home with the help of my brother, who although stoutly suspicious of all things creative, had proved himself highly adept at writing concise, vitriolic tracts about the anal proclivities of the two lonely boys in my class, who, according to his prose, "bummed each nightly wearing wigs made of winnets." Some of the outpourings even had a political edge – I distinctly remember one drawing of a starving African boy feebly chewing on a plastic red nose. Naturally, he sported a massive cock.

It was a subversive thing, the Book, flouting all manner of school rules. Obscene, childish, offensive, distracting, and above all else, hilarious – it really was our pre-internet b3ta.
And it all ended in tears.

My downfall came about between lessons, when discretion and caution were low. I was walking to my next class, a guffawing semicircle of friends peering over my shoulders as I read to them the latest illustrated installment of 'Stuart's Mishaps'. His cock had gone missing, and he had to borrow his dad's as he had PE the next day. I was just getting to the point where Stuart breaks down in tears because he's misplaced his dad's cock as well, when the Book was plucked from my hands accompanied by a stern, authoritative shout of "I'll take that!"

My heart has never sunk as far as it did in that moment. We fell silent, watching the teacher walk off with something that was never meant for grown-up eyes. She didn't open it, not then, just stuffed it into her coat pocket for later. This was going to be bad. Teachers didn't even know what bum sex was, let alone what it looked like when done by a seven foot disembodied cock wearing sunglasses. The consequences were going to be catastrophic. I couldn't think straight through the next two lessons, and when I was told to stay behind after lunchtime registration, I could barely look my form teacher in the eye.

She waved the Book in my face and slammed it on the desk with a cry of "FILTH!" – this from an art teacher, too. Suspension was threatened. Letters home assured. The disgust and shock (I was a good boy) among the teaching fraternity was apparently unparalleled. So I took a deep breath, waved goodbye to my artistic integrity, and pinned the lot on my brother who'd left the school the year before.

I was let off with a half hour detention, and never got the Book back. I bet it's still in the staff room, giving those bastard adults a right good chuckle to this day.
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Thu 4 Mar 2010, 16:41, 5 replies)

Awwww.
This is a great story. Very sad.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 4 Mar 2010, 17:00, closed)

Clicked for "naturally, he sported a massive cock."
P.S. You are Seth from Superbad AICMFP
(tubeman trousers, Thu 4 Mar 2010, 17:16, closed)

Egad!
Just remembered that film! I swear, this story is entirely true. Also, although it began as pure cock, it evolved to something else entirely - the creative headbutt of a dozen adolescent boys. I'll never forget it.
( Wet-chinned bag shanker Cannot parse Wogan, Thu 4 Mar 2010, 21:07, closed)

Having worked in school,
I can assure you that such things are quite common, but every now and again, a real work of art presents itself. Staff will laugh over these things just as much as you did, before taking the moral high ground! Most probably though it got filed away and then destroyed after the set amount of years!
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Thu 4 Mar 2010, 20:35, closed)

That sounds fantastic :)
Me and a few mates used to deface school letters, replacing key phrases in the letters to puerile things, implying that the head teacher was a paedophile or that the music teacher was performing a variety of sexual acts in the school hall. That stopped when we got caught as well.
( Mike Fishcake teamfishcake.co.uk - better than your mum's face, Fri 5 Mar 2010, 13:48, closed)