My time at school was quite eventful.
There was this one time this kid showed up, must have been from out of town as I didn't know who he was but he had a certain something...quite possibly the purple underwear. Anyway, he was a dreamboat and I was determined to find out who he was. I followed him home after school once and found him living with his uncle, a crazy looking, wild haired man who could have been a psychopath for all I know! Had a cute dog.

I asked him to ask me out to the school dance which is where things took a slight turn for the worse. I ended up copping off with his mate and decided to settle for him instead. Never saw purple pants boy after that but now, thirty years later, I have a young son who looks (and sounds) very much like him. Which is amazing as we didn't even shag!

Love,
Lorraine Baines McFly x
(RVD420 has his world coming down on, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 11:45, 3 replies)

Kids eh?
At the end of one day in primary school, we were talking about animals and zoos and stuff and the teacher said to us: "for homework ask your mum and dad to name an animal and tell you what noise it makes".

So the next day, the teacher starts asking all us 6 year olds what animal we have been told and what noise it makes. She starts going around the class and it goes like this:
teacher: "Jenny, what animal did your parents tell you about?"
jenny: "A cow, miss"
Teacher: "good, Jenny, what noise does it make?"
Jenny: "Moo, miss"
Teacher "good. Billy what about you?"
Billy "A sheep miss"
teacher "And what noise does it make?"
Billy: "baa, miss!"
Teacher: "Good, Billy. What about you Mkembo?"
Mkembo: "A pig, miss"
Teacher: "Good Mkembo, what noise does a pig make?"
Mkembo: "Wosinthebagnigger, miss!"

God's honest.
(ScousersPet, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 11:34, 5 replies)

swastika liz
our games kits were yellow aertex polo shirts and obscenely short grey pleated skirts. rather than make the skirts longer, the school decided to make the girls wear voluminous giant grey knickers underneath them.

of course, nobody did, because they were a crime against fashion, nature and one's arse.

so one day, when we were about 15, we were playing hockey indoors because of the weather. in addition to the usual butch lesbian head of games, we had a male teacher as well.

"right girls, bend over!" bellowed the lezzer. "and i hope you've all remembered your grey pants because mr ashworth does not want to find himself looking at a row of schoolgirls' knickers!"

"i bet he DOES!" hollered back liz, quick as a flash.

we were laughing all lesson. liz was made to spend every lunchtime for the next 2 weeks washing the hockey balls for that!
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 11:12, 7 replies)

FIGHT! FIGHT! FIGHT!

Psst…pass it around, there’s a scrap going down…between Bert ‘Bollock-buster’ Monkeysex and ‘Krusher’ Kaol

The venue: On the replies to Bert’s post…4 posts down from this one.

Everybody gather round in a circle now…and nobody call a teacher.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 5 Feb 2009, 10:42, 11 replies)

French Teachers
Miss Ballantine was young, petite and very sexy! She knew the effect her presence had on us pubescent schoolboys and I think she was quite flattered or even thrilled when we tried to look up her skirt! One boy dropped his pencil on the floor and then sat cross-legged under his desk peering up at Miss Ballantine’s legs, minutes ticked slowly by. Eventually she said “You’ve had quite enough time to pick up your pencil!”

Miss Ballantine was always giving detention, but she couldn’t always remember who was supposed to be staying behind and so I often just went straight home. Sometimes I would sit next to her on the bus to school the morning after skipping detention and she never mentioned the missed detention.

In RI one day I saw the inscription “Boxhall had a fuck with Ballantine “in the bible that had been handed out at the start of the lesson. Mr Boxhall was our RI teacher. I showed the inscription to my mate next to me and he took it out to Mr Boxhall. After a quick interrogation to establish that it was not me who wrote in the bible, Boxhall marched off to the Head’s office.

Later that day a special assembly was called and Mr Morris ranted on about how he had to destroy a copy of the holy book because it had been desecrated with filth. The culprit was never found.

The other French teacher Mrs Moore was a buxom Yorkshire lady. Despite her slightly (ahem) fuller figure she used to wear quite smart dresses. The hooligan element of the class thought the appearance of Mrs Moore’s dresses would be improved with a few ink splashes (this was in the days when fountain pens were still in common use). I think 3 or 4 dresses were ruined! I thought it was a mean trick as she was fair and a good teacher, but obviously I couldn’t snitch on my classmates.

Mr Fletcher the English teacher was an around nice guy. We didn’t play any tricks on him, but we failed to point out that his flies were open and his todger was semi visible through the opening in his undercrackers! His next lesson was a class made up entirely of girls!!! He was a good sport and I think he saw the funny side
( Vambo, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 10:20, Reply)

Russian
I took GCSE Russian, and I was, I admit, fairly hopeless at it. I got horribly daunted by some of the grammatical rules (which are odd), and that became a vicious circle of under-achievement. Combine that with a girl in the class who seemed to take to it naturally, and my confidence was shattered.

Notwithstanding that, it was not all that hard to get a good mark if you knew the right tricks. For example, by using the phrase "tchai c'limonom" - lemon tea - in the right place, you got three marks for the vocabulary, and many more marks for using the correct grammar. And you could use the phrase up to three times and get credited for each.

Once you'd used your three, you simply started talking about "tchai s'malokom" instead - tea with milk - and you'd accrue more marks on the same rubric.

The point is that getting an A wasn't all that hard. And I did get an A. I wasn't proud - it was a dirty strategic grade, rather than anything that rewarded scholarship. Nevertheless, I was a bit taken aback by the frankness of my erstwhile teacher when I went back in the VI form. "Oh, Enzyme, you got an A."
"Um, yeah."
"You don't deserve it."
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 10:17, 21 replies)

Hey teacher leave us kids alone...
One of our teachers got up on the stage to give a talk or summat in assembly one Friday morning, and promptly had a heart attack & carked it right then and there.

Decorous panic and genteel chaos ensued.
(Roger_Irrelevant he's completely hatstand, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 9:59, 5 replies)

One Christmas at School
When the Teacher had given up on teaching us anything, she handed out bits of paper with the outline of a Snowman on each of them.

'Here, you can all spend the next hour decorating these,' she said.

I got out my yellow highlighter, drew around the outline of the snowman, and wrote in bold letters, 'Christmas in Chernobyl'.

It turns out that RE teachers don't have much of a sense of humour about such things, and my friends and I were kept in at lunchtime while being lectured on the horrors of nuclear meltdown.
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 9:08, 140 replies)

I had a mate...
... who used to get picked on a lot. Mostly because he was pretty odd, and did stuff like wander around with a TV tube in his bag. Naturally, the obvious thing to do was to teach him how to make a stun gun out of bits from the rest of the knackered telly. This shifted the balance of power a bit:
"Go away or I'll zap you with my stungun!"
"You haven't got a stungun <derisive laughter>"
"Yes I have, Gordonjcp showed me how to make one"
"<silence, possibly stunned silence>"

I still don't understand why *I* got a bollocking for it. I didn't tell him to actually do it, I just told him *how* to do it...

Length? Hard to measure when they're lying on the deck twitching.
(gordonjcp, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 8:58, Reply)

3 girlfriends at the same time
What can I say, every teenage boy's dream (until I realised I was a barsterward and decided to split with 2 of them). Here's how I met em.

gf1: Name of Tessa. I met her at a gig one evening, she grabbed hold of my shoulder to get a dropped ciggerette out of her shoe. We had a great evening but I lost her phone number on the way home and kicked myself silly for it until... I bumped into her 2 months later at another gig, w00! That time we did exchange numbers and I made sure I didn't lose it. We had an amazing time together and she was my 1st true love, puty she wasn;t all too faithful with me (like I could complain) she lived the other side of London which made travel a bit of a chore with underground, overland and bus. 4 hour round trip to get laid and still worth it.

gf2: Lisa. Another girly I met at a gig, was actualy was interested in her friend but she managed to bring me round. That was an odd relationship. She was very "cold" most of the time but we did ahve a few laughs, she lived closer to gf1 than to me but had same travel problems.

gf3: the older woman, we only dated for a couple of weeks. She was 9 years older than me. I learnt alot of about making girls very happy in bed from her, pity I can't remember her name. Plus she only lived a bus ride away making it alot easier to get to her (and get laid).

It was a major pain in the ass trying to juggle seeing all 3 ladies (accidentaly inviting 2 of them to a the same gig was a bad idea) and I really didn't like myself for cheating on all of them.
The only upside (apart form the sex ofc) was the ton of alot of prestige at schoool for it.

*EDIT* To respond to questions. I was at schoo at the time. Due to me having (and boasting) about 3 gf's I got a rep for being a "player" For an odd one out at school, having a rep like that really makes life better. I relly enjoyed it while it lasted. Great times at school.
Also. I was a barstward and hatred myself for it. I've never cheated on a gf since.

Length? Enough for 3 girlfriends. Giggity giggity, giggity goo.
( Crap Little Monkey Deathstar, so good they built it twice, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 8:57, 5 replies)

This happened today.
I am completely Mortified with a capital "M".

So here I am, walking along, chatting and laughing with two of my friends, over to where my group of girlies and boys sits to talk and waste lunch time.

We get within ear shot and someone brushes past us a bit rudely - but I didn't notice. Then I see one of my friends look over, see me and wave.

What do I do?
"Hey sexy how're you going?" I yell out to her.

The person who pushed past us looked back with an odd look on his face, and I was instantly mortified.

It wasn't a kid.
It was my sports teacher from last year.

I want the earth to swallow me. Right now. I'm blushing still.
(Poppet some assembly required., Thu 5 Feb 2009, 5:44, 1 reply)

10-day out of school suspension
One time in high school a teacher caught a student Thomas masturbating at a urinal in the bathroom. Obviously, he got a nice long suspension (and probably a mental evaluation as well).

The morning announcements were broadcast on closed-circuit TV to the classrooms, and at the end of the announcements there would sometimes be slides that people could request that would say things like "HAPPY BIRTHDAY JENNY" or "CONGRATULATIONS, IT'S A BOY!" and such like.

In 11th grade I worked on the mass comm. team that did the announcements, and the day Tommy got back from his suspension, I made a slide that said "WELCOME BACK TOMMY" next to a huge spunking magenta cock.

I almost got kicked out of school, but it was worth it because I'm a cruel scuzzbag and I couldn't pass up the chance to ruin the next 3.5 years of a person's life.
(Ay, Why, Kay, Jee, Oh, Tee, Ell bcdefhijmnpqrsuvwxz, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 4:17, 1 reply)

Home Secretary
This is libellous but droll. Jacqui Smith taught at my school and once got very upset about the fact that no-one had given her the requisite 50p for a mince pie and glass of mulled wine to be consumed after the Xmas performance of Handel's Messiah (you can tell what kind of school this was). She once shouted across a choir rehearsal in that voice she uses in the Commons when she's uptight: "Shut Up!! I need your 50ps! Shut up! 50p!" To this day whenever she comes on telly, my entire family and social group from school shout the same back at the telly. :)
(SpongyMonkey is an honorary East Anglian on, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 1:38, 4 replies)

Another one, sorry
Was when I was doing my GCSE French oral exam. We had to talk about what we did last weekend.

I was really, really pissed off because I was the last person to go and I'd spent the last hour staring at a bit of paper. I just wanted it over and done with.

So, I got cocky. When asked, I was going to say, 'last weekend, I slept'.

So I did: 'la weekend dernier, j'ai coucher'.
Though what I should have said was 'j'ai dormir'.

My French teacher (a French national) smirked and carried on.

Just before I left the school for good, she pulled me up and informed me that I had told her that on that fateful weekend, I had slept around.

I didn't study French after that.
( Methylene Blue - electrohead, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 1:23, 4 replies)

I'll never forget the day
I went to school, and we had swimming first thing in the morning. This was in year 5 (aged 9).
I put my bather on under my uniform, so I was readily prepared. I'd done my bag the night before. I was well proud of myself.

In the lesson, I'd earned my silver swimming certificte and picked up the brick. The next week it was pyjamas, I couldn't WAIT!

Then the horrible thing happened. I went to get changed and realised.. I'D FORGOTTEN MY KNICKERS. This was the single most embarrassing thing ever, and I sobbed my heart out for the bus back to school. Girls were sympathetic, boys tried to look up my skirt. The school had to get my older brother to drive down to the school and give me a pair.

I'd never felt so dirty in my life, and now I'm really reluctant to go commando at ANY time, even choosing to wear knickers in bed.
( Methylene Blue - electrohead, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 1:14, 3 replies)

Bully turned murderer.
I hated school. Every last moment of it. Bullied relentlessly and without a single friend it made me the messed up person I am today.

One particular bully was of the less sophisticated kind - he had a penchant for physical violence. Never premeditated, but always present. If I made the mistake of being within physical range and the elders weren’t looking a rain of kicks and punches would ensue. And such was his reputation. His particular brand of violence dolled out on the likes of me made sure that everyone knew he was the local “hard nut.”

So, I guess you want to know what makes this a little bit more than the run of the mill big kid picks on little kid story? Let me explain but please realise I can’t be too specific. This happened in the mid-eighties and the person concerned will be back in society now, so I hope you can appreciate that.

Well, a three year old girl was killed and her body dumped in some bushes right by the entrance of the local primary school.

The bully’s explanation? I can’t exactly recall but something to do with the kid screaming when an ice cream truck came round and this bully getting pissed off with her. So he decided to shut her up. He did.

How does this affect me directly? Well, you know how certain events in your life become images burned into your mind? You can literally picture the scene and remember almost everything that was going on. One of the defining memories of my childhood was sitting in my living room with two plain clothes policemen (CID I guess, but I didn’t really understand at the time) and my parents present. Me sitting at one end of the room, with the police oddly sitting at opposite ends of the room and my parents directly in front of me. I can’t remember exactly how they came to be there, but I do remember they were asking me about this person specifically and how I may think it could have been him.

All I can remember was stumbling, staring at the ground and sayings lots of “dunnos” because I couldn’t bear my parents to realise that I was being physically attacked by this guy every time he came across me. He was the reason I didn’t go anywhere other than school - too scared to leave the house. I was too ashamed to admit this to my parents.

What did the the local rumour mill have the bully’s father allegedly saying when the police came to take his kid away? “Don’t worry, son. I’ll be your pal.” Nice.
(dxg, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 22:52, 2 replies)

Dead Poets Society

I had an idealistic young English teacher.

He lasted half a term.

One time he took the class out onto the playing field and attempted to imbibe the raw naturalistic grandure of Wordsworth into us. I think he thought we'd be inspired by the bit of grass and the single tree we had.

It was freezing cold and we stared getting a little impatient.

After a few minutes one of the class interrupted:

"Err, Sir... You do know Dead Poets Society was only a film?"

And someone else added:

"Yeah, and it was bollocks!"

To which another of my esteemed peers conjectured:

"And you ain't Robin Williams."

And I finished off with:

"So its not all bad, is it, Sir?"

Then we went back inside, this poor man's shoulders sagging visibly...

WARNING: If you ever watch that film and feel inspired to teach, remember Hollywood is NOT REAL.

2nd WARNING: Anything with Robin Williams in is officially shit.
( SpankyHanky, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 22:43, 13 replies)

Mrs Gravedigger
There were quite a few odd teachers at my school, but none odder than Mrs Gravedigger. This wasn't her real name, but her real name did sound a bit like Gravedigger and, well, we weren't that witty.

Mrs Gravedigger was an art teacher who wore floaty blouses and lots of beads and floated around the school as if in some sort of parallel universe. She would often be seen muttering to herself. None of the other teachers were ever seen talking to her - she lived in her own little world.

She used to refer to us as "good children!" and "naughty children!" even though I went to the kind of school where you'd get threatened with a flick knife if you looked at someone funny. She also had a strange hatred of boys. She would talk randomly about "good, sweet girls!" and "nasty, naughty boys!" It was unheard of for a girl to get below a C grade for her homework, or for a boy to get above a C grade. In fact, in year 8 my mate James and I swapped exercise books for a few weeks to test this out - sure enough, his grades improved dramatically when she thought she was marking a girl's work.

She also couldn't teach for shit.

So, we've established, Mrs Gravedigger was a matriarchal nutcase. Anyway, one day, she was covering a maths lesson when our teacher was off sick. As I went to a school where a lot of kids had foreign names, there was a system whereby if a teacher was taking a unfamiliar class, instead of trying to call everyone's names out to take a register and embarrassing everyone, they'd just send round a sheet of paper for us all to sign our names on. So, on this particular day, we all added our own names plus one more.

The list got back to Mrs Gravedigger, who got out the register to fill it in, and started to look very confused. She stood up. She did a head count of the class. She counted the names on the list. She did a head count again.

"That's funny!" she said to herself, "Twenty-six children in the class.....fifty-two names on the list..."

She counted the list again. We were all practically weeing our pants with suppressed laughter by this point. Then the awkward questions started.

"Calvin? Is Calvin Klein in this class?"

Some smart alec had the presence of mind to say, "He's just gone to the toilet, miss!" A few people started to lose their composure a little. It couldn't possibly get any more ridiculous than this, could it?

"Mickey Mouse?"

At this point, we all lost it. A class of 14-year-olds, all laughing so hysterically they'd practically lost control of their bodily functions. Mrs Gravedigger was NOT impressed. She was very upset, and went off to complain to the head of maths.

The head of maths was a very strict teacher. A very good teacher I might add, but not one to be messed with. When he strode into the classroom, we thought the game was up and we'd be in detention for the rest of our lives. In the end, he just took one look at her, and at our list, and then gently led her away.

We never saw Mrs Gravedigger again. Rumour has it she ended up in an asylum. I'm not sure how true that is, but she definitely was a complete fruitcake. Genuinely one of the battiest people I've ever met, and responsible for the funniest thing that ever happened to me at school - including the time we persuaded a boy that boys had periods.

However, there is a postscript to this story. Imagine my astonishment when I saw Mrs Gravedigger on a TV commercial a while ago, for Yellow Pages! It was part of a campaign where they featured people whose services were advertised in the publication, and she was featured as an Alexander Technique teacher. Check page 5 of this out if you don't believe me. That's her.
(grandmasterfluffles Come to my Armageddon party on, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 22:14, 1 reply)

Just to remind people that I once posted something that wasn't a pun
A pea-roast, but this got quite a good reception last time round...

www.b3ta.com/questions/dumbthings/post110420
( ousgg is not seeking approval, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 22:14, 1 reply)

In response to Applebite...
GCSE French - 16 years old, with a cover teacher who was useless, covering a meternity leave. Me and my mate would (for some unknown reason) snort Trebor mints to pass the time, as well as drink home made cherry liquor that his grandad made, from a coke bottle.
Then, one afternoon, my mate brings in some cocaine that his older brother hadn't finished over the weekend.

Conversation:

"I've got some real coke in my bag this week"
"No you haven't. Prove it".
"Here you go".
"Oh".
"Here, drink this as well..."

We cleared about a gram of coke that lesson and drank a 500ml bottle of liquor and got completely twatted. How I didn't get expelled I don't know.

Irony? I'm now a primary school teacher.
( Turquoise Hexagon Sun has just dropped acid on, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 21:31, 1 reply)

I just remembered.
I was sitting in my AP US History class, chatting with a few of my friends and very distinctly not doing any work, when suddenly it came to our attention that there was a conflict brewing on the other side of the classroom. Two of the lads over there had a previously existing conflict, it seems, and Isaiah was provoking Aaron unendingly.

They stood up and postured like two angry gorillas, shouting and all that. Our teacher, the ever-wonderful Dr. J, broke it up and pulled Isaiah outside. Aaron thought a moment, then reached into his bag and pulled out something I couldn't see. He stormed toward the door saying, "I'm gonna shank that bitch!" One of his friends tried to pull him back, but he just shook her off.

He only stopped when another quick-thinking boy shoved a desk in front of the classroom door and dove into it, yelling "No more black people in jail!" Then Aaron let himself be led back to his seat.



Oddest moment of my life.

Aaron was summarily removed from school for having a switchblade, seam ripper, and prop gun in his backpack.
(Bouncy Castles, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 21:29, 1 reply)

Another pedophile
I remember in high school (so long ago it was, a whole nine months ago...), we had two driver's ed teachers named Mr. Bevis (pronounced Bee-vis) and Coach Rodriguez. Coach Rod was lacking in the hair department, so their nicknames evolved into Beavis and Baldhead. I don't think they were amused, but that doesn't really matter.

Now, on to the better story:

Beavis was known throughout the school as being a wee bit of a pedophile. All the well-endowed girls learned to sit at the back of the classroom, as he'd spend a good portion of the period blatantly staring down shirts. I saw him personally pat the thighs and ass of a girl on crutches as we walked away from the driving course. She was moving too slow, or something. She didn't seem to mind, and said "Read my lips - fuck off" and laughed.

He also had the creepiest mustache known to man. I swear it was sentient.
(Bouncy Castles, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 21:25, Reply)

Our French teacher taught us that French kids only get one egg at Easter
The reason? Because in France one egg is un oeuf.

Sadly, I'm still sniggering at this nearly 20 years later.
( GarbageFan didn't know what to have as a board sig on, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 21:17, 3 replies)

We were evil in 6th form...
When I was in 6th form, our classes were used as isolation rooms for the disruptive kids from lower years. Mostly upon being put into a room full of us they would sit down and shut up.
One guy sticks in my mind however. He would regularly end up in our physics lessons. On one occasion, Mr J (our teacher) had to go out of the room, leaving us, the isolation guy and a van de graafe generator in the room. Unsupervised.

I don't remember the exact chain of events, but it ended up with the isolation kid standing in a polystyrene box, touching the generator. For about 15 mins before Mr J came back. His reaction was classic.

Upon re-entering the room, he asked us 'How long has he been holding that for?'. Upon hearing the response, he asked the kid 'Do you know what that is?' When the kid claimed not to, he went and fetched his teacher from over the corridor, who promptly laughed at him, and explained his predicament and turned off the generator.

After the kid had been discharged, Mr J turned to us, and told us 'If we ever do that again, he will be discharged through you. But good work boys'.

I never saw that particular kid in our lessons in isolation again. I am also told that he couldn't feel his hand for most of the day.
(qwertyman66, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 20:19, Reply)

Lemsip max - works every time.
There was a boy in most of my GCSE classes at high school, who safe to say, was a complete moron. He dicked about endlessly in lessons, and was always coming up with new ways tricks to royally piss off every teacher we had.

I have plenty of stories about him, but this is probably the one that sticks out most for me.

Anyway, we had a substitute one geography lesson, so of course, no one did anything. This boy had a cold at the time, so had brought in a couple of sachets of Lemsip max or soemthing to put in a drink for some relief. During the subbed lesson, he got bored, and so naturally decided that the best way to relieve this was to snort the lemsip.

He sprinkled the powder on to the table, arranged it into a neat line with his bus pass and used a rolled up piece of scrap paper to snort the lot.

The effect was immediate, and for everyone else, hilarious.

He leaped backwards out of his chair, ending up on the floor, yelling in pain, the left side of his face bright red, and his left eye and nostril streaming.

Once he had recovered enough to sit back down, he discovered that it had actually worked quite well, and the left sinuses were now clear. Only the right side was still blocked.



So he went and snorted the other sachet too.
(Applebite Uh! A cow!, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 20:02, Reply)

Barmy Bhavani
Science Technicians.

We all had them (I presume).

Ours was a lady of (most likely) Indian descent named Bhavani(sp?).
She was a lady of limited vocabulary, limited in fact to a single word. "George"

"George" was the head of biology, and constantly tailed by Bhavani. Bhavani and her trolley, scattered with test tubes, beakers and the like.

She was the only person I've ever encountered who seemed to be constantly confused by everything and everyone around her...except George of course. George was her rock.

Her defining moment was during one Biology lesson, she skulked toward us (unsettling to say the least) and proceeded to open a drawer immediately behind us labelled Test Tubes.
Surely, test tubes would be discovered upon opening?


No.

A single jaffa cake pocket pack (remember the ones from the advert...."Full moon, half moon, total eclipse"?) lay silently, motionless (as would be expected from an inanimate object).
Bhavani is obviously confused by the presence of such a foreign item. Lifting it precariously she sniffs...shows the slightest moment of ecstacy....but alas, upon realising her plastic companion cannot be removed from its humble abode, replaced it with a mixture of anger and regret.

The back row of us 4/5 young gentlemen were obviously bewildered by this event, and burst into the inevitable roar of laughter.

From that moment on, I shed a silent tear whenever anything leads me to reminisce about Bhavani and her secret plastic lover.
(TheColonel, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 19:42, Reply)

High School, US, 1978
Yes, I'm a geezer.

Anyway, this was at the pinnacle of Saturday Night Live's popularity. Class officer elections, a vaguely goofy girl ran unopposed for class president. And lost. The winner was the write-in candidate Beldar Conehead.

We got a good chewing out over THAT one...
( HairyTwatter certified eel and sodium salesman, Wed 4 Feb 2009, 19:25, 2 replies)

My school had three paedos.
One had the police come into school to arrest him, because they found his credit card details on a child porn website. However on the day they came, he was off, but they kept a few policemen in and around the buildings in case he came back for whatever reason.

The second invited a 15 year old student into his office and tried to make an advance on her.

The third got sacked for undeclared reasons, but he was a PE teacher and kept talking about our testicles, so we all knew he was just a massive paedo anyway.
( B.T., Wed 4 Feb 2009, 19:12, Reply)