Roasted pea, anyone?
The year was 1986. We walked like Egyptians. Bon Jovi said you gave love a bad name (whereas I thought lust gave me cramp in my wanking hand). Lionel Ritchie danced on the ceiling. We wore shiny suits with pastel t-shirts, and had bad, bad hairdos.

But enough nostalgia, it was year in 11 physics, and we were studying (or supposed to be) Wave Physics. It was one of the most tedious parts of physics, and there was no way in the world it could possibly hold my attention.

That particular day, we were doing wave propagation. I think. I wasn't paying attention.

The teacher, who had only been at the school for a couple of days, and was covering for a teacher who was on long service leave (so she was stuck with us for the next couple of months regardless), noticed that I wasn't paying attention (I was probably daydreaming and/or trying to look up the girls' skirts) and barked at me:

"Mr CopAFeel, use 'propagate' in a sentence."

Without missing a beat, I looked her in the eye, and said "People used to walk across our garden until we got a proper gate"

The room collapsed into raucous laughter. There was to be no teaching done for the rest of that lesson.



That was the apex of my schooling career.



Click "I like this" if I should stop dwelling on past glories.
(David CopAFeel Used to be The_Elcat - Spouting crap since 1970., Fri 6 Mar 2009, 5:30, Reply)