At my junior school

After play-time, we always used to have a competition to see who could get in last.

Thank God we've all grown up since those days!
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 16:53, 1 reply)

An old headmaster (repost)
He told us of a jape he was responsible for when he was at school.

He substituted every single screw in his teacher's blackboard for a matchstick.

Sure enough, as soon as chalk met board, the whole ensemble collapsed, trapping his teacher underneath.

Six stiff strokes of the cane for that one m'boy.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Thu 5 Feb 2009, 16:29, Reply)

Most disturbing perhaps...
Oh those halcyon days...

Whilst school was a constant draw on my time, I did manage to find ways to make it through the day. There would be far too many stories to do in one hit as it were, so synopsis time.

One of my pet victims was the librarian. Competitions would range from trying to see how many crocodile clips could be attached to the hem of her skirt, to how high a jump could be illicited via the use of a hefty tome. I won the librarian round with the coup de grace; I sneaked in and dropped the right hand side of every shelf in the building by one notch thus creating the same distorted view as an enemy of batman's hideout!

Many other fun times were had, but they were funnier than the story I shall relate, thus rendering this post hazardous in view of the topic.
(Those of a scataphobic nature should look away now)

The moment from school that sits most heavily on my mind was after a sixth form party type thing. Where drink was allowed and much vomiting ensued. (Not on my part I hasten to add.) At the end of the evening, being a 'nice boy' I stayed behind to help wash up etc.
A fellow student came rushing in to tell me about something I had to see to believe. Somewhat cautiously I followed him into the gents to see what can only be described as "The Arm". In the cubicle, somehow still contained by the pan was the most comprehensive turd I've ever had the misfortune to confront. Fully as wide as my forearm, it started from under the s-bend and in one continuous push, so to speak, reared its head clear of the rim.

This clearly required one gargantuan effort on the part of the do-er. How it was physically possible I'll never know. Thoughts of having to raise one's buttocks up to finish because of the back pressure weighed big time on my young mind. It would have been impossible to remain seated throughout the performance.
Its name (and its memory) stuck. If only camera 'phones were de rigeur at the time I would have been able to (no on second thoughts)

I do apologise for the lack of funny stories of which I can assure you dear reader there were many. But this is what I remember most from my days at school.

Length? Seriously, I think I've tried to convey just how truly horrific it was.
( Blind Meach Cautiously optimistic, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 16:19, Reply)

When I was at school...
... if there was a question asked, it'd frequently be followed by another one.



Hint, hint.


EDIT (19:17): Actually, I quite like this question. I just thought it was an obvious post to make...
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 16:12, 3 replies)

Right. When I was at school..
you kids dont know youre born. Rubbish. "Hilarious hi-jinks" involving ring tones? How unbelieveably fucking irritating kids these days must be. *dad voice on*. When I was at school, our pranks were calculated, devious, ingenious, practised and always, always involved either explosives or acid, and made use of something we'd actually learnt and applied to real life. Albeit, violently. However, it was never malicious and we were wary of the reponse of the adults and I like to think there was some respect on each side.

Honestly, you kids? Rubbish.

(By the way, this is pretty much what my grandad said to me once. Replacing "ringtones" with "catapult").
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:51, 12 replies)

Double Computer Studies...
Back in the day... what a wonderful lesson it was... a complete and utter doss...

Punched card readers *yawn* paper tape *strrrretch* RML380Z *doze* I'm sure you can imagine the sort of thing...

Typical, i'd imagine, of many Computing teachers back in the day (this would be 1985-6) ours was a bit of a libertarian ex-hippie.

So as long as we didn't take the piss too much she'd let us wear a walkman in class, or have a bit of a laugh chatting to mates, or do the homework for the next lesson from the week before... you know the sort of thing. Who were we to complain? Some bright spark did the work in about 10 minutes, which then circulated the entire class for copying, allowing the rest of the time to be spent gainfully, stabbing each other with compasses... trying to set loose items of clothing on fire with cig lighters... or, in my case, achieving a well-rounded education in the finer points of AC/DC pre Brian Johnson... but i digress.

On this particular morning, our poor hapless teacher (who shall remain nameless) was unfortunate enough to return from a trip to the little girls room with skirt FULLY tucked down back of knickers.

I've never heard louder burst of laughter contained so well behind hands clamped across mouths, rosy cheeks and watering eyes.

Of course, nobody said anything... I thought someone would take pity, because she was actually quite a nice woman, but nobody did.
She turned her back to us, gave narrative, and wrote on the board exactly as before, clearly completely unaware anything was amiss. The whole class, about 30 of us, were incapable of any kind of action or movement, or the laughter would have exploded out of us & torn the roof off the building.

For the life of me I can't remember how she twigged... maybe she dropped the chalk or something, I don't know... Or, more likely, her suspicions were aroused because we were suddenly all so quiet and well behaved... Anyway... realise she did, fractionally before realising also that none of us had seen fit to tell her.

"OH YOU LITTLE SHITS!" she screamed and ran out of the class blushing a fulsome shade of beetroot.

Now, I know what you're thinking...
They were just as you'd expect...
White, undeniably large and militarily reinforced at waist, leg and gusset .
:o)
(Roger_Irrelevant he's completely hatstand, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:36, Reply)

One more.
We had an alcoholic teacher for about a year.

He lived with his Mum and grandma aged 50 something.

he also tried to teach a year 10 top set class how to read the time becasue he was off his face and couldnt be bothered to teach properly.

One lesson he gave me and my mate an afterschool detention and thoguht we would be mature enoguh to sit there doing our lines for a full hour.

We proceeded to rip the room to shreds burning holes in the floor, burning papers, kicking hole in things. This was all minor stuff until i had the brilliant idea of taking a piss in the hole in the wall that we kicked in earlier.
The next week the room was closed until the wall was fully ripped down to clean behind it and kill the smell of piss.

You may think that we would get expelled for this extreme behaviour and vandalsim, but it turned out he was too drunk to actually remember who he gave an afterschool.

Yays for the incredibly flawed education system.
(PaulGadd -, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:32, 3 replies)

We once had a Teacher named Mr Spencer
wearing silk purples suits to a secondary school is extremly unadvised.

His first day we locked him in the cupboard for a full 3 hours.

Then a week later someone found a ringtone known as 'bad sound' it was basically a minute of ear shattering high pitched noises.

Four of us got the ringtone and strategically placed ourselves in the corners of the room.

One would paly the ringtone and once Mr Spencer came to that corner a different boy would paly the rigntone.

This lead him round in circles until he burst out of the room in tears and proceeded to rip a cupboard to shreds.
Best.
Lesson.
EVAR.
(PaulGadd -, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:25, 4 replies)

April Fool's Day 1998
Due to being among the cleverest in the class my 3 best friends and I sat together with a helper, so that while the rest of the class were plodding along, we could speed off ahead with the work, anyway, it turned out the helper had forgotten to give the stuff in the bag to her daughter on the way to school, so we stayed in at break, and managed to persuade the rest of the class to as well.

In this time we attatched toy spiders webs to the whiteboard, changed the date to the end of term, changed the clock to show home time, put toy rats everywhere, putting the teachers old pen in her coffee and pretended it was her new one (yeah, well it amused me and my friends - and it worked - she freaked!) I can't remember the other things, put they were all quite immature. Then we all hid under the desks and in the cupboards for the teacher to come in from break, then all jumped out and shouted "April Fool's". Aah, that was fun!
(deadly_sinners, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:21, Reply)

And another
my R.E teacher fancied himself as the cool teacher everyone looked up too.

This meant countless stories of him snowboarding,travelling around the world and other such crap (all found out to be lies later on)
One day he was telling us about how in Slovenia there had recently been a massive 'dump of powder',

I then instantly responded all too loudly 'Gnarly'. The whole class burst into tears of laughter.

It was totally worth the afterschool detention
(PaulGadd -, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:19, 2 replies)

My funniest moment in school was when
a p.e teacher told me and my friends off for acting too 'gay' in his class because we sucked at sports.

Once we got home one of my friends made a facebook group saying 'Mr _ _ _ _ _ thinks we are gay'

we then got pulled in by the head for making said group and all joining it.

Stifling back the laughs and he read each of our comments was unbearable, such gems as 'why dont we show him how to have a good time.' made me cry with laughter.

He doesnt like us anymore.
(PaulGadd -, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:13, Reply)

2 for 1
Both of them revolve around the bane of my school days, Physical Education. I am a nerd, not an athlete. Don't push me.

One particularly cold day, when it was pissing down and blowing a gale, we were all sent out to do some rugby training, which to start with consisted of standing around for a while. Of course, this had to be done in the cheapest, thinnest, smallest standard PE kit ever issued. I don't like rugby, or standing in the freezing cold rain while some fat berk with an office full of biscuits stands around in 5 layers of clothes under an umbrella telling us we're useless. My response was to turn blue. This isn't an exaggeration. I didn't know until the other students pointed it out. Sure enough, I was freezing to death, and the "teacher"'s response was to make me run to warm up. I couldn't, as my legs were seizing up. Eventually, he reluctantly sent me indoors. I didn't do PE in cold weather ever again.

~

A few years later, when I was doing AS Levels and consistently skipping PE lessons (still enforced even though you didn't pick them, and you supposedly control what you can do), I was in a photography class. The classroom overlooked the tennis courts, where a number of students were running back and forth with hockey sticks. Another student and I were idly gazing out the window, and talking about how crap PE was (go Art students!). The other student remarked: "What a pointless exercise". As quick as a flash, without even thinking, I responded with my zippiest one-liner to date. "Well, that's what P.E. stands for".
( Awesome Welles petitioning for foetuses to be rebranded 'wombles', Thu 5 Feb 2009, 14:59, 4 replies)

Science
Now standard school science is dangerous but my chemistry teacher was on another level. Favoured tricks include; First burning down the school fence with thermite. Then “discovering” the powers of physics to build a rail gun to take out the lighting in the lab ceiling then finally blowing up his fume cupboard, it came apart in a way that can only be described as being like “an Ikea diagram”. Great fun and no one died.
(The Liquorice Allstar I need cricket, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 14:57, Reply)

Sampling keyboards
Did your school have a little keyboard in the music room which you could record into, then play your recording back at various pitches, depending on which key you pressed?

Ours did. It used to drive Mrs Vaughn the music tacher to distraction.

Until the keyboard was finely disposed of after one memorable parents evening. A suitably cute first year had been stationed by the keyboards to demonstrate our school's dedication to the creative arts.

It was unfortunate, then, when one of the visiting parents said "ooh hello! what are you doing then?", and pressed one of the lower keys to hear, in a drawn-out deep voice, the words "Mrs...Vaughns...a....sluuuuut".
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 14:25, 12 replies)

Communication breakdown
I was alright at French at school. While I never had the discipline to learn the grammar properly I had a decent accent and picked up phrases very easily. I was confident, at least verbally.

So, by the time we were a couple of weeks into an A level exchange visit to a school in France, I thought I was fluent. I was wrong.

While sitting in a pub with my new French friends I decided a Gauloise would complement my 'baron' of beer nicely. I was out of matches so asked if anyone had a light. I couldn't work out why everyone started laughing and wouldn't give me the flames I needed. I knew I was holding it round the right way, so I figured my friends were just being French.

I started asking around the rest of the pub and got some very strange looks, especially from the local fishermen.

Had this been my first beer I might have twigged sooner, but it was very far from my first. Not until I'd asked everyone in the bar did my gittish amis enlighten me (and the smoke). It turns out idioms don't translate literally. While I thought I was asking everyone in the pub - male and female - if they had a light, I was really demanding to know exactly how horny they were.

"Avez-vous la feu?" Luckily the answer was an emphatic "Oui!" when I asked Julie later that night.
( Scrumper, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 14:19, Reply)

Nigel Blight did a poo
in Mr Gammons' drawer. I left school 13 years ago, and I don't think anything funnier has happened since.
( krang, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 14:03, Reply)

Pronunciation problems
In secondary school one of the teachers who taught French was an actual native of France. Her English was a little basic, and whenever a pupil said something she didn't understand, she would reply with 'I have no idea'. Except this was said in a very strong French accent and came out as'I have no I.D.'

Hence the conversation, quoted from numerous otherwise unremarkable lessons:

'Miss, are you an illegal immigrant?"
'I have no I.D.'
(TheCircleIsNowComplete is longing for the endless immensity of the sea, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 13:47, Reply)

Craft Design and Technology

It started with an ambitious idea.

I was going to build my very own R2 D2.

After a term I ended up with...

... a waste paper basket with a car headlight glued on top of it.

Mr Osier, the CDT teacher, was very proud...
( SpankyHanky, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 13:45, 4 replies)

School wasn’t up to much to be fair, although I was quite popular…

But once, I skived the day off, and razzed round the town with my girlfriend and my mate in my mate’s dad’s car.

Hilarity ensued.

Anyhoo…eventually I grew up and ended up marrying a woman with a horse face.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 5 Feb 2009, 13:30, 12 replies)

Miss March
Our PE teacher was called Miss March.

Someone said to her "If you're Miss March I won't be buying the calendar".
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 13:29, 2 replies)

GERMAN!
Our German teacher was terrifying! A huge (to a child) woman with a legendary temper. This, naturally to schoolkids, meant she was a "big lezzie".

This was unfortunate, as during an oral test (steady), I asked if she was married. Te response "ja" should have been followed by asking her husbands name, not my response of uncontrollable giggles.

I still think she was trying to melt me with her laser eyes.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 13:25, 1 reply)

Mr Hungry has reminded me
of the teacher I got for sixth year English.

She was that one, you know, the kind of sexy one who rumours of student boffing and colleague shagging were always flying around (she had inherited the role from the legendary "Randy Radcliffe", a reputedly knickerless teacher who left before I got there), imagine Kim Catrall with short hair and you're halfway to how I remember her.

Rumours ha been flying that her affair (again, unsubstantiated gossip) with the head of the english dept. had fallen through, and one day, she cracked.

Asking us questions about a book we were to have read, she was met with stony silence. She asked the question twice, then sat, staring as we fidgeted and remained silent. It was painful. I knew the answer, but to begin with I'd expected someone else to give it, then thought someone would be picked..... after two minutes of silence, it was too late. It had somehow turned to attrition.

I don't know how long we sat there like that, eyes on our desks praying for that woman to for God's sake just pick someone, maybe ten minutes, but it felt like a year. Then, breaking point came. She silently rose, srode out the door and SLAM! Never came back that lesson.

No-one ever mentioned that day to her.

The other English teacher wasn't as sexy, but for some reason the woman's nipples were constantly poking out through her blouse. Odd the things that stick in your mind.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 13:16, Reply)

Summer of 78
I was fifteen, And my last day at school before my family moved over 200 miles back to Kent. So I had arranged to skive and spend the day with a girl I knew at her house in Ramsbottom. Waiting at a bus stop going in the wrong direction. I was seen by my art teacher driving by in his beetle, He waved, and I considered whether if I should go to school or risk having the day off. He knew it was my last day and didn't say anything, for that I thank him. I'm glad I did and had a wonderful day. That was the last day I ever saw her. We spoke on the phone a couple of times. but never met again. it was just too far to travel. I spoke to her mother many years later and found out she was married with a child. I often think of Lesley and that day.

If I'm ever asked where I lost my virginity.
My answer is.

It was in Ramsbottom, the place of course!
(Pill Popper Thank you Sasha Shulgin, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 13:14, 2 replies)

language teachers are wierd..
we had a russian teacher who was a porn star/lapdancer in a previous career

we also had a german teacher who couldnt control her pupils for shit (the kids, not her eyes..) and she would often break-down and hide in her stockroom to have an almighty cry.

My french teacher was pretty cool though for the record...he was a bit of a gamer and I could sidetrack him for a whole lesson chatting about resident evil or something..
(Lord Chode, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 12:55, 5 replies)

Are there lots of people in Mianus?
Mr Triggs was a substitute teacher taking us for French one afternoon after PE. All the exertions the previous period had left us in no mood to work.

Mr Triggs knew this and instead of making us work decided to regale us about the two years he spent living in Alsace.

Yes, he told us, 30 bored teenagers, about the very enjoyable time he had in Alsace. Boy did we snigger.

Much fun was had trying to get him to say more hilarious innuendo without him cottoning on.

"Was it warm in Al's Ass sir?"
"Was there a lot of room in Al's Ass sir?"

Our fun was ruined when thicker-than-pigshit-boy, who seemed to be the only one who actually thought Mr Triggs was regaling us with tales of rampant bum sex, piped up with:

"Did you wear a condom up Al's Arse?"
Which was met with the reply:
"Very funny. Now back to work, all of you."

The thick twat.
(Roger McGough-Pipe, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 12:52, 2 replies)

More French Teachers
Mr Hungry reminds me...

Miss S taught French. She was also devoted to her dogs, whom she'd bring in to school and walk at lunchtime.

One day she set her class homework - they had to write about a pet. All of them submitted a piece about a loved dog who died.

Miss S refused to mark it.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 12:51, 2 replies)

Teacher Baseball

French in the third year.

Our teacher was a highly strung woman, clearly on the verge of a breakdown - she had recently gone through divorce and her kids were giving her trouble at home.

Our class was known as being particularly disruptive and this day it clearly became too much – the teacher ended up running out of the room crying; to which one particular wag decided to shout "Strike!" (Baseball was unfathomably popular at this point)

A scheme was hurriedly devised - the class would attempt to make this teacher cry and storm out two more times that week - thus making it three strikes and your out.

And so on three occasions that week, our teacher fled her classroom crying to the chorus of “Strike” from 30 laughing, gleeful fourteen year olds.

How did we know she was having trouble at home? The main ring leader was her very own son.

God, kids are horrible.
(MrHungry, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 12:48, 5 replies)

Tick_Tock

We had a student teacher, teaching French, for a few months. For us, the unusual thing about her was that she was from Northern Ireland.

So she was teaching a lesson one day when one of the lads at the front started nodding his head backwards and forwards and saying, repeatedly:

"Tick-Tock, Tick-Tock"

Over and over again.

The teacher ignored him from a while but eventually cracked and asked:

"What the hell do you think you are - a clock?"

"No Miss - I'm a bomb"

Best right-hook that I saw in school.

Tiny 5 foot tall teacher floored a 6 foot hulking teenager. As he tried to scramble to his feet she pounced on him like a tiny cat attacking a beaver. She grabbed him by the hair and had him bent over as she repeatedly kicked him up the arse while propelling him through the door.

Strange thing is, she never had even a hint of trouble with any class for the rest of her time with us.

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 12:28, 2 replies)

Funniest thing to ever happen at school?
Mainly this guy.

Yeah cruel I know but look at him. Just look. Never did a guy have more trouble at school. And before you ask, he brought it all on himself.

Example, in PE, we were doing shot putt. He asked if he could use a cricket ball instead of the shot. That my friends, stays with someone for ever. He might have well have said "please kick the shit out of me forever".

One day he actually brought his mum into school to tell us off. That went well.

Happy days

(We in turn had the shit kicked out of us by far bigger lads. Shit flows downhill).
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 12:17, 8 replies)

William
William was an odd one, very brainy and a bit of a loner. He also had a penchant for getting his pre pubescent cock out.

One lovely summer afternoon, it was try outs for sports day. Whilst the boys were getting ready for the relay, we heard a frantic shout of "Miss. Miss." Naturally everyone turned round just in time to see William pull his hand out of piss soaked pants, flick a bit of wee at the poor girl next to him, and say, quite triumphantly, "See! 'Course I could wee in my hand".
(Roger McGough-Pipe, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 11:53, Reply)