Snow cock
It snowed once whilst we were in class.

Our class was let out early for reasons I can't remember.

A big blanket of virgin snow lay before us in the courtyard, allowing 4 sides and 3 tiers of classrooms to see 3 young lads with thier hoods up set about drawing a massive cock in the snow by shuffling thier feet.

I wish phone cameras were about back then.

Length? On a standard cock and balls doodle, the pubic hairs sprouting from the bollocks were about 2 metres long.
(Spaff_Quaffer Wise fwom your gwave., Thu 29 Jan 2009, 16:10, 1 reply)

Boom!
Mr McD had the misfortune to have a heart attack in front of his fourth-form boys.

When he came back off sickleave a few weeks later, he had the further misfortune of having to endure them spending the rest of the academic year dropping heavy books on the floor and shouting "BOO!" to see if they could induce another.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 16:10, Reply)

When teachers mentally crack....
At some stage or other I'm sure we've all seen a teacher snap and totally lose the plot. We had some proper nut jobs at my school and given the fact that corporal punishment was all the rage their mental instability could often be closely correlated to the size and shape of the bruises they left on your arse after you received a caning. Many a proud boast was made by the lads who had made a teacher crack and had then received a good caning. Things like the size of the bruise, the angle of the cane marks and the closeness of the stripes across your arse were much talked about.

In a moment of brilliance I had through my superior wit and intelligence forced our PE teacher to lose his rag completely. Apparently my complete lack of enthusiasm for doing a relay outside in the freezing cold while wearing nothing but a pair of shorts while carrying a huge leather ball filled with sand was expressly forbidden. The fact that he also sorted the teams out so that the best people were always in the same team and won didn't help matters much either. Every week he'd be saying well done lads to the same 6 guys and the rest of us got treated like lepers.

Anyway I digress, so there I was freezing my tits off moping around the field. Oh did I mention it was 8.30am and we had first lesson PE, the grass was wet and we weren't allowed to wear shoes. Only sissies and gays wore shoes apparently. Me pointing out to Mr Fuckface that he had shoes on didn't really do much for my cred either.

So there I was at the lepers end of the field. Barely able to muster the enthusiasm to breath, never mind actually run with a stupid heavy leather ball. Why we couldn't do fun stuff like play football or rugby was completely beyond me. It was also clearly beyond Mr Fuckfaces too because after ignoring me the first few times I asked again very loudly and he suddenly freaked out and shouted 'Shut up, do it properly and show some bloody enthusiasm!!'.

Well that was all the encouragement I needed. I was going to show him what enthusiasm meant even if it killed me. I wanted to be the poster boy for enthusiasm. I wanted everyone to look at me and think, 'Fuck, look how enthusiastic he is'. So the following few minutes where spent with me running as fast as I could, having extra goes so the mongs and lepers in my team could have a break. I shouted, a rallied the troops, I heckled the other teams (especially the A-team), I held the ball above my head and screamed like a man possessed as I ran past the finish line and did a victory lap of the field while shouting at the top of lungs how much I liked PE. Obviously the victory lap wasn't because we'd actually won - it was a victory for enthusiasm!

So there I was, at the end of the PE lesson in the headmasters office having to explain my erratic behaviour. Well the simple answer says I, is that I was just doing what I was told to do - be enthusiastic. He explained that I was actually being very disruptive and had caused the PE teacher much anguish. This came as quite a shock, I must admit, as I fully expected to get some sort of commendation at the end of this all for actually being the poster boy for enthusiasm. I would appear I had misjudged the situation terribly and when he walked over to the the basket of canes I knew my fate was sealed.

At break time I was in the outside courtyard with my pants round my ankles showing the lads the stripes on my arse from when Mr Fuckface happened to walk past. And so it came to pass that on that fateful day I became the only boy in living memory who had successfully managed two cannings from the headmaster on the same day. An act that ensured my entrance into the annals of history along side such luminaries as Gunter who was busted wanking in the toilets (another classic story) and Danny who managed to flood the entire school hall and get away with it cos he wore socks on his hands so they couldn't finger print him.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 16:09, Reply)

i briefly went to a private school
it was full of cunts.
this one poor kid, michael tomsomethingorother, was pretty much my rival. i was the poor kid on a scholarship, he was the speccy ginger kid who smelled of piss. he was MARGINALLY above me, as there's no greater sin in one of these places than rocking up in a battered mark 1 transit with straw in the back.

the tables were turned one day when he tried to fight me.
he ran in, did some kind of awful epic fail flying kick, one foot glanced my hip, he essentially 'posted' himself on my pelvis, (read one leg either side, nuts first into a then bony loaf) fell to the floor squealing and ran off. later in PE he developed a mysterious brown mark on his white shorts.. started to stink of shit. the rather unforgiving p.e teacher (mr RAINBOW believe it or not) ordered him to strip and get in the shower. kid drops his kecks, reveals the sort of mudstoat you'd only think capable of exiting an adult hippo, and is duly frogmarched to the shower.

dirty fucker dropped another length of knotty arse-rope in the shower.


then put the same underwear back on, after shaking the turd out into the bin.

rich kids

animals.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 16:07, 6 replies)

A tale of young boys, dogs, rape and "yoghurt"
I promised this story a little while ago when I was talking about my Hanson lookalike mate and a rapid journey he made in a dumb waiter while escaping from the lair of a rabid Hanson fan.

Bright was the sky and high his heart as Earl* skipped his merry way to catch the bus to school. A rural setting in Devon was the scene.

As he trundled along the roads he was surprised by a large dog, a great dane perhaps, or at least something of similar size. A young boy cannot repell canine power of this magnitude so he was knocked to the floor.

At this point it came to his attention that the dog had a stonking hard-on and was intent on having his way with my mate.

The dog being of such size it was able to shrug off the pounding that my mate was trying to give it until the inevitable happened and it loosed a barrage of jizm up his leg.

Spent, the dog left the scene where Earl wiped himself down as best he could and realising he would get a beating from strict parents if he missed school legged it for the bus.

Naturally a big white mess on the trousers attracts some attention on a black school uniform and somehow, god knows how, he actually managed to pass it off for the rest of the day as spilt yoghurt.

Also: Duncan Bryant pissed himself in maths when we were about 15. Tosser.

*name slightly changed to protect his modesty
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 16:05, 11 replies)

Life lesson
If you find a crisp 20 pound note in a school corridor, do not ask loudly if someone dropped a 20 pound note. You'll get bundled and someone will steal your new 20 pound note.

I learnt a lot of things over the years.
(FoxyBadger (try saying it backwards), Thu 29 Jan 2009, 16:03, 1 reply)

Not me but in RE
Our RE teacher an unassuming lady who was harmless enough let on that her first name was Daisy.

Cue the next time she took a class. She walked into the room to find everyone sat up smirking. Then the singing started

Daisy Daisy give us a tit to chew
I'm half crazy to have a fuck with you
I can't afford a johnny
A plastic bag will do
But you'd look sweet upon a seat
With me on top of you

She fled in tears and a school legend was born.
(andythepieman Is surfing the waves of indifference on, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 16:01, 2 replies)

Ah yes...
...the memories trickle back.

If you take iodine crystals and mix them with anhydrous ammonia, you get a brownish liquid. If you paint this on a surface and let it dry, it becomes very unstable and detonates at a very slight touch. Being an iodine compound, it turns things in the immediate vicinity brownish-purple.

If you paint it on the undersides of the toilet seats in the girls' bathrooms, it generates screams and purple thighs.

Not that I would know this from personal experience, of course...
( The Resident Loon Not a demographic. Do not measure., Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:59, 4 replies)

and for no reason i can think of...
i always got a raging hard on during German lessons - and we had teacher who had styled herself on the SS therefore when giving an answer we had to stand up and shout it aloud.

every single time i stood up i had to do that half crouching cock hiding stand most teenage boys have to adopt at some time or another
(jordanchaos isn’t just any PeaRoast, this is a M&S PeaRoast, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:56, 4 replies)

Pseudo miracle
I used to be a right sporty git; rugby twice a week, for club and school, same with hockey. Cycling 5 miles to and from school for a couple of years. All this ended when I was diagnosed with Osgood Schlatter's disease. Far from being the wasting away terminal illness it sounds like, it's actually an affliction of the knees, when your tendons can't keep up with your bone growth. The result is pain from running or impacts, and the more it hurts, the more it's going to hurt. I spent the best part of 4 years unable to sit comfortably in a car, because I could never straighten my legs out to get comfortable.

I couldn't really do anything active at all at this point. No sport involving running or even walking, staying inside to read at lunchtimes instead of facing an hour on my feet, it was pretty horrendous. I'd had more than enough so the next time we visited the hospital we made sure they did something. So I came away from that visit with one of my legs completely in plaster, from ankle to hip. I had to stay in that for 3 months, and they would put a new one on the other leg. Sound like fun? It was, actually. I imagine few of you have actually spent much time in a wheelchair, and whilst being wheelchair-bound is definitely not a barrel of laughs, I don't think I've ever had more fun than in a wheelchair when you're essentially OK, you've just been ordered to walk as little as humanly possible. This made for great entertainment. Watching people's faces when I had an R.E lesson upstairs; wheeling to the stairs, looking pitifully up them, swinging my leg round and walking straight on up (slowly, admittedly).

I became extremely good at wheelchair wheelies, eventually - after many cases of going over backwards - able to hold them indefinitely and go wherever I wanted on 2 wheels; even down stairs. My friends would push me round school at full tilt, once causing one of the tyres to pop off the rim and me to brown my pants.

So - the miracle. About a month or 2 in, I was wheeling round with Richard, a good friend, who volunteers to wheel me along a path as fast as he can. We build up speed until he's running completely flat out. The path was set at an angle next to the English block, so as we ran along it we got progressively closer to the building. We reach the end of the path, Richard probably running at about 30mph now (more probably not) and he glances the very corner of the building. I say glances, the wheelchair stopped completely dead and I was catapulted out at a very high speed, travelling I would say, a good 15 feet before hitting the ground.

Now what would you expect to happen to me? Bear in mind the full leg cast. Nope, I didn't go arse over tit and end up in a bloody heap. I hurtled through the air, landed feet down and somehow held my balance, managing to half-run until I could stop. I looked at Richard, who was somewhere between terror, exhaustion and cracking ribs laughing. But it was the look that the two girls sitting on the bench closest that just set it off perfectly - the most offended I've ever seen someone look at me. To the untrained eye, I had just performed an absolutely perfect, sans-sandtrap, cripple long jump. With a Jesus-has-healed-mah-legs landing.

Apologies for length, it would have been a Paralympic World Record.
( Rookie You'll have to speak up, I'm wearing a towel, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:56, 3 replies)

"I hate Mr Smith"
said Ian.

"He's such a cunt. Ugly fucker, all he ever does is strut around telling us what to do. Never even fucking demonstrates anything. And he's supposed to be a PE teacher!"

Everybody in the queue for swimming had stopped talking, and were looking just past Ian's head. He continued,

"I hope he gets cancer. Or his dog dies. Or his dog gets AIDs, which he then gets."

Suddenly, Ian experiences a moment of dire realisation;

"He's behind me isn't he"

Ian turned round, and ended up in detention for a solid three weeks. Poor guy, he was only saying what all of us were thinking!
(tarbin tarbis, tarbit, tarbamus, tarbimus, tarbant, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:55, Reply)

The day after
a particularly violent episode of food poisoning (brought on by rancid mince curry) i was in school, gymnastics to be precise.

It was all pretty low level stuff, mostly forward and backward rolls on those blue mat things. Easy.

Easy until i attempted a reasonably energetic forward roll that resulted in a noxious arse rocket being launched. Luckily i had shat out all the solid stuff earlier...This was the gaseous residue that was forced to evacuate due to my colon compressing antics. When the smell hit i was nearly sick.....imagine boiling up battery acid and shit...well, that was what it was like, powerful and dank.

The guy next to me obviously caught it as well, as his eyes began to water and tongue poked out like a hanging victim. I had to think quickly, my reputation could be destroyed by this. Within seconds it had expanded to fill the entire hall and even the teacher was oscillating between laughing and vomiting.

Who was it? Who had given birth to this premiere class arse biscuit...not me, no way. The guy who initially smelled it, declared it must have been Joe, the tall, slightly odorous chap who came from a scabby home and wore hand me downs...Joe was a decent enough guy, decent enough that he hardly protested his innocence. I even took part in the 'for fucks sake Joe, did you shit yourself' style barbs. Purely to make it look more realistic.

I had gotten away with it. Yass.

Bizarrely, i related this story to my kids a few months back and on that weekend whilst at a christening in a bowling club i actually saw Joe, for the first time in about 20 years. I had the idea of farting next to him and repeating it all over again...but decided against it, as he was still tall, but harder looking.

Every time i see curried mince, especially if it has a small pool of yellow fat slowly oozing from it, i want to vomit...
(Cancer Joy was short lived, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:54, Reply)

Wish I still had the picture for the caricature challenge..
My mate was an excellent artist, but also a fairly sick puppy. He used to draw caricatures of the teachers and classmates, which were usually fairly pornographic.
One teacher, whose name escapes me, was practically a caricature to begin with - an overweight, short, red-haired lesbian. I think the only thing funnier than the naked drawing of her with an enormous purple dido stuffed up her bedsore covered, fly-attracting bearded clam was the look on her face when she found the drawing handed in with homework assignments.
The boy responsible was never caught and is now a pilot in the RAAF.
(r0ach, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:53, Reply)

the first of many i suppose...
When i was in my politics class i accidentally kicked over my bag and a bottle of Absinth fell out and rolled across the floor.... so thats how i ended up being dared by a teacher to drinking from a bottle of Absinth in class while watching brass eye... i nearly threw up... great days..
(jordanchaos isn’t just any PeaRoast, this is a M&S PeaRoast, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:50, Reply)

Showers
At junior school, we used to have to take a shower after PE. For some reason, the taps for the showers was quite high up on the wall and because the teacher couldn't be arsed, someone had to stand on some valves and reach up to turn the showers on.

One time, in 4th years when we were all about 13, one kid for whom puberty had begun early climbed up to turn the tap.

He used to brag about his early development and was quite proud of his larger than average member. However, as he climbed up, he managed to wedge it between the two hot water pipes that ran up the wall. He screamed.

He was forever known as burnt-sausage after that.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:45, Reply)

Science teacher Mr Kay
while looking at a young lady in the class coughing said the immortal words "Take a deep breast" and then felt so embarressed he got into a cupboard for 4 minutes. Which made everything better.
(mrrenton is an inanimate fucking object, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:42, 4 replies)

Braces
This might not be as funny as I remember. In my last year in primary school, we were taught sex ed. It was held in the assembly hall as this was the the only room with a big tv for us all to gather round. The video for that week was going to be on sex and we were all told specifically not to laugh or we'd be in trouble.

So we all sat on the floor in anticipation. My friend had braces on the "train-track" kind and was sitting with her knees up, hugging them and resting her face on top. She was wearing tights and rather unfortunatley got her braces caught on them. A few of us began to notice and could hardly contain the laughter. It was funny when you were 10. Cue the teacher throwing a strop because she wasn't taking it seriously and proceeded to throw her out the class. She couldnt explain why she was laughing because her mouth was attatched to her tights so she had to rip a massive hole in them and head down in shame walk out the class room blubbing as she went.


ahhhh its one of those you had to be there momments!
(fernbrittonsexcessskin will give a shit later, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:40, Reply)

Martin and the French teacher
One of the gimps in my GCSE french class was of the sort who was quite smart, but hung around with some of the thick twats and was generally a smary, greasy twat who liked to cause mischief.

One such French lesson Martin was getting up the nose of our French teacher. This wasn't hard, he was of the chinless, enormous adam's apple types who made weird quiz show type noises when you got a question wrong...

Said teacher had handed out some punishment to Martin during this lesson which hadn't gone to well.

The teacher left the room on some kind of errand at which point Martin unleashed a tirade of abuse starting quietly and gradually building in volume "you pompous chinless.....(continuing in this vane)...WANKER!"

with the last shouted at almost full volume.

Unfortunately for him, Martin had arrived slightly late for the lesson, missing the fact that we had an OFSTED inspector sat in on the class.

As soon as wanker was out of his mouth every head in the room turned to the inspector who had been happily writing something down on his notebook.

I swear that the sound must have taken a good 5 seconds to reach him (or he was icnredibly dim) because the look of shock didn't appear on his face immediately and once there is grew to epic proportions.

I can still picture that look today more than 10 years later.

Not sure if our teacher ever found out, but Martin was a model student for the rest of the lesson.
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:39, Reply)

Bush
I guy in my tutor group once set fireworks off while in a bush, and naturally, the firework didn't make it's way out. He managed to get out though, and the bush ceased to exist. Another time the same fellow stole chemicals from the chemical lab and spilt them on the basketball court. It got everywhere and numerous guys hands suddenly started turning a horrible shade of red. Cue mass panic and guys with chemical suits coming up to the cordened off gym only to discover it was not some horrible acid, but universal indicator.
(mrrenton is an inanimate fucking object, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:38, Reply)

A general observation
From being 12 to finishing sixth form college 6 years later, I was taught physics by a certain type of teacher. He always made the lesson entertaining in the same way you'd expect if Johnny Ball was your teacher. Performing extravagant demonstrations which usually took up a lot of space and were performed with much gusto and waving of arms.

In fact, it made me want to be a physics teacher. However, other things happened and changed my plans.

Was it just my school/college or is a general trend across the country to have physics teachers that are best described as 'totally hatstand'?
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:32, 8 replies)

Not sure this is funny, but...
My family moved around a fair bit when I was younger so I went to several primary schools. When I was 9 I attended a school in what was then known to my parents and their friends as the People's Democratic Republic of Derbyshire.

My teacher was Mr. Smith*, my sisters teacher (for reception) was Mrs. Jones*, and Mrs. Jones' husband, Mr. Jones*, taught one of the other classes.

Mr. Jones* was rather a scary character, he had a large bristling moustache, a shaven head, and the manner of the British Army Sergeant-Major he had once been. He was not to be messed with and you could hear him screaming at children from several classrooms away. Mrs. Jones* was a rather large lady, sort of like a clucking mother hen. Mr. Smith* on the other hand was a cloud-dreamer, frequently playing the piano when he should've been teaching us.

One day, we were all on the playground before school, waiting to be lined up into classes. We noticed that Mr. Smith*, Mr. Jones* and Mrs. Jones* were no where to be seen. Substitute teachers led us all in. For the next two weeks none of them appeared.

Naturally the rumours started flying around - that Mrs. Jones* had run off with Mr. Smith* and that poor macho Mr. Jones* was heartbroken.

These rumours were put paid too when Mrs. Jones* returned to work. She hadn't run off with Mr. Smith*.

Mr. Smith* had run off with Mr. Jones*. It was rumoured that they had eloped to Amsterdam and opened some sort of 'gay shop' (at least thats what the 9 or 10 year olds in the know in my class said).

I never did find out what actually became of them.
(Zapiola zip-zap-zop, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:30, Reply)

Science homework and brain surgery
Miss W taught me science when I was young. She was small, scrawny and vicious, disliked by all pupils and staff. Oddly, though, she and I seemed to get on, if not exactly well, then at least not as badly as seemed to be the case with the rest of the world.

We happened to be walking across the quad on one occasion, and she asked me why S, one of the boys in my form, had been absent for so long.
"Ummmm... He had a brain tumour."
Miss W looked slightly panicked. "Oh, god," she said. "I suppose I ought to stop sending him homework, then."
Even at the age of 12, and even in the presence of this harridan, I felt entirely warranted in replying, "Yes. I think you should."

It's the small victories that count.
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:30, Reply)

An idiot? Or a criminal mastermind? You decide!
During my second placement during my PGCE I worked in a pretty rough school in Ellesmere Port (5 points for a correct guess). You know it's bad when they have CCTV camera's in the corridors (2004)!

One day I'm walking along the corridor when something hits the back of my head, now, being a teacher, and a student one at that, you can't just let kids get away with that as they'll think you're a pushover for evermore!

SO I turn round and confront this corridor full of kids (I'm expecting sweet FA to be honest but I had to do it on principle) and to my eternal surprise one of the students mentions that there are CCTV cams in the corridor. Happy days thinks I, justice shall be meted out on this fine day!

I hot foot it to the office and ask one of the women in there to take a look at the footage (just like in CSI or the Bill, but not as glam) to which she points out the lad and names him. It's the same bugger who had told me about the CCTV and he was about a week away from leaving for study leave.

So what do the school do? well, seeing as it's a rough school in a bit of a tough area they decide to let him off for study leave early!

Fucking retards
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:28, 2 replies)

Remember those Van de Graaff generators in Science lessons?
You know, put your hand on the dome, rotate the handle, hair sticks up, much hilarity ensues.

I remember once our science teacher had all 30 of us join hands sitting on those high chairs with no fucking backrests along the whole length of the lab, feet off the chair so that only buttocks were joined to the plastic seat.

He then got the kid at one end of the line to touch the dome, another kid called john to turn the handle upon his instruction, and the kid at the other end of the line (me) poised to touch the radiator upon his instruction.

He then told us that John was to wind the handle, and I was to touch the radiator, and we would all get a little electric shock. He issued his instructions and walked slowly over to me and told john to start winding the handle. But he forgot one thing...

That John was a cunt.

John started to wind the handle like a motherfucker.

"OK John, stop there" Said teacher

John ignored him and increased the speed.

"John, stop there son"

John ignored him and carried on.

"JOHN. STOP WINDING NOW!"

John looked at him. Smiled, and carried on winding.

The teacher finally started to walk over to John briskly, then breaking out into a trot repeating "STOP WINDING THE HANDLE JOHN!"

John only stopped winding when the teacher was right over him. He then recieved a bollocking from the teacher and his classmates, and then I realised that everyone had turned thier heads to me.

Oh yes. The radiator.

I looked at them all. They all looked scared. I think a "fucking hell" was uttered. I looked at my finger, looked back at them all again and slowly put my finger near to the radiator.

I touched it, and BANG! a big shock* went through us all and everyone yelled, screamed and fell off thier shite fucking non-back supporting arse numbing chairs.

John recieved 2 dead arms and 2 dead legs that day, and was made to rub the blackboard after school with one of those wooden handled chalk rubbers (chalk clouds FTW!)

*May have been the anticipation of recieving a 'big' shock that made it big. It was probably fuck all.
(Spaff_Quaffer Wise fwom your gwave., Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:27, 2 replies)

Fire fire fire!
The one thing that sticks out in my mind about High School was how most of the kids in Science class (except me cos I was a big girly swot!) used to switch the gas taps on and light them, sending jets of flame shooting into the air and warming the classroom up by a few degrees. Usually when the Science teacher's back was turned or when he was out of the classroom.

Happy days...*sigh*

Reading this post back, it just makes me sound tragically dull if THAT'S the most amazing thing I can recall about school. Ho hum.
(RVD420 has his world coming down on, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:26, Reply)

Once...
MJP89 got his trousers pulled down and his boxers came down with them.

Despite being there I (thankfully) didn't see anything, although those that did assured the people that weren't there that there was no need to apologise for length.

I love that my length joke is longer than my story.
(Martin1337 was trying and failing to be funny at, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:24, Reply)

The only thing I liked about school
Was physics!

Ah the fond memories of throwing radio isotopes to one another across the classroom, and watching as some twat stuck a screwdriver into a live socket and got a 240V shock for his stupidity.

Oh and working in the darkroom with my girlfriend, and the teacher wondering why we were the only group who didn’t get the right experimental data!
(Herr Doktor Lemminge Is bored, so cheer me up!, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:22, Reply)

Human Rights
At one particularly tedious assembly, our deputy head gave the school a dull and sanctimonious lecture on the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which included:

1 - The right not to be arbitrarily detained
2 - The right to free speech
3 - The right to trial before punishment
4 - The right to leisure time
5 - The right to be presumed innocent until found guilty.

He then kept the entire school in lunchtime detention because someone in the front row was talking.
(Axeman Jim, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:20, 2 replies)

school stories are like kids:
yours don't amuse anyone else.

As far as I'm concerned, most people in education are a bunch of cunts and precious few ever learn not to be.

If anyone is looking for me this week, I'll be heading towards the canteen with a shotgun in my trenchcoat.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:20, 13 replies)

Enzyme has reminded me of a poor lad
Ralph - the class stoner - was known for turning up to all classes on a various degree of substances. The teachers gave up him eventually due to his outbursts.

One day he had the courtesy to inform us all that the doors and windows were turning into snakes, and we should immediately leave the room. To guarantee his safety, he avoided the snakes and attempted his escape by running full speed into the wall, fracturing his skull.

It certainly made Geography less dull.
(FoxyBadger (try saying it backwards), Thu 29 Jan 2009, 15:19, Reply)