In my day.
I went to a grammar school in Newcastle because for some god-knows-what reason I was supposedly intelligent enough to win a scholarship. Well, who was I to argue? Unfortunately for some pupils there, money spoke louder than brains. Although the school had a fairly strenuous entrance exam, there was no doubt that for some of the rich kids, the wheels had been greased ever slightly. With huge fucking wodges of cash. Thus stupidity perpetuates itself etc...

I had 2 major disadvantages: 1, I didn't go to the junior school (which is where the little Quentins and Theodores and so on went prior to the main school, presumably to have their chins removed). 2, when someone asked me "so what does your Daddy do?" and I answered honestly "fuck all at the moment - he's been made redundant." it became fairly obvious I wasn't one of Northumbria's landed gentry.

Soo, considering my surname as well (let's suffice it to say that it's....bad. And I've heard ALL the jokes) I learnt to fight at an early age. I didn't enjoy it, and still don't, but I was at least able to hit someone hard enought that they didn't just laugh at me. One day in year 9 I'd had about enough, when one chinless wonder called Veevers (still can't remember his first name, but by his facial appearance, it may have been Shergar) had basically spent the day tormenting me about my parents.

"Carrot, your family are poor. They can't even afford you a proper school blazer. My daddy bought me two and we're going to Barbados for the weekend in Daddy's private space shuttle...." etcetera all. fucking. day.

Anyway, it came to the stage where I suggested that a full and frank discussion and exchange of opinions may be required after school at the generally approved location for such debates(the hill behind the sports hall). I propsed the motion, and it was seconded by fuckhead.

I turned up late. I ws unaccountably held back with an attack of the "you boy, tuck in your laces/tie your shirt/brush your tie/iron your face" from a random teacher. So I was in a less than happy mood when I arrived at "the kicking hill."

"Right Carrot" brayed Veevers. "I'm going to teach you a fucking lesson for wasting my time." He walked over, pulled his fist back...

...swung...


...overbalanced....

...and fell.

Luckily, a bench broke his fall.

Unluckily it was the corner of the bench that broke his fall.

Unluckily still, he broke the fall with his nuts.

EVERYONE who saw this winced. I actually believe that Veevers passed out for a moment, and fair play to the fucknugget, I would too. When he came to, he folded into a foetal position (as you do) and unfortunately decided to lose his lunch. Being doubled up, it went all down his front. He limped home crying.

So, that's how I won a fight thanks to my secret ally, Mr Bench.

The next week at swimming, Veever's scrotum was about the colour and size of a ripe aubergine. Hence his nickname for the rest of school of "purpleplums."

Ta for that one, Jeebus!
( Undercovercarrot got done for gross misconduct on..., Fri 30 Jan 2009, 6:36, 5 replies)

rich kids
twunts to a man.
i did the poor kid/scholarship thing too and endured three years of constant shit before i left to go to a school full of poor but pleasant kids.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Fri 30 Jan 2009, 8:12, closed)

...
I went to a "rich kids" school in Newcastle and loved it, meanwhile one of my friends went to the local comp and got beaten up so badly that he now has problems with his vision.

Then again this was long after the time of grammar schools, so maybe things have changed since you went?

As a side note my parents were and are not rich, I got in on the assisted place scheme

en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Assisted_Places_Scheme

which is why I have and will always vote conservative.
(Gazebo will eat you on, Fri 30 Jan 2009, 9:40, closed)

Not a public
grammar school, a private one. The one with the clue in the name...

You weren't a Dame Allans Boy were you??!
( Undercovercarrot got done for gross misconduct on..., Fri 30 Jan 2009, 10:01, closed)

...
I was, left in 2004 I think.

RGS scared the hell out of 11-year old me :/

EDIT: and to be fair to you it did seem like most of the children there were twunts.
(Gazebo will eat you on, Fri 30 Jan 2009, 10:15, closed)

They...
..really, really were.
( Undercovercarrot got done for gross misconduct on..., Mon 2 Feb 2009, 7:20, closed)