historical paper...
Did anybody else get given the stupid task in history of writing letters or newspaper articles?
Year 7 project: write a newspaper article on something or other
did the whole teabag trick to make it look authentic and old then spent hours creating this masterpiece (for a year 7 at least) then somebody suggested "why not singe the edges" to which I though amazing idea, why didn't I think of that?!
subsequently I ended up setting the whole piece of work on fire, having to do the work for a second time and getting a shitty mark for it, damn grill!
(nikkibic is like a candle in the wind... unreliable, Mon 17 Aug 2009, 0:25, 3 replies)

Project - Hmm
Well, in b3ta fashion...

My project wasn't the traditional one - It was a night of frivolity in the common room, yes, dear reader, I went to boarding school. We'd aquired "al-ky-hol" :)

(No points for guessing where this is going).

A night of jolity ensued where me, Andy, Chris and Lee (who has unfortunately now departed this life courtesy of Iraq-istan type nonsense) drunk ourselves in to a stupor. For a change...

Boarding schools are no better than the chav world for drinking, it's just "hidden" better.

So after at least 2 bottles of, er, Vodka were consumed we decide to commit to a school project. Projectile vomiting to be more accurate.

Oh, the distances we achieved. Oh the mess we made. Oh the suspension that Andy got... Oh, the expulsion Lee got... (Sorry guys). I got away with it on compassionate grounds (my dad had died a month before).

[Ok, Lee was actually expelled for sneaking in to the girl's dorms and boffing his then GF - but this didn't exactly help]

Tangent? Maybe :)
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 23:59, Reply)

I've left my mark
On the three schools I've attended. The first two have my work permanently hung on the walls.

The third has a huge scorch mark on one lab ceiling and a large stain on the floor of the lab next door. This is a result of me setting off an enormous explosion on open day without telling anyone what I planned.
( MatJ LOOK, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 23:29, Reply)

Erm...
Hullo, first time post. Probably too lazy to post original stuff often, so here is an unedited 151 word true story that seems somewhat relevant that I penned a ways back. So-

Mein Kampf
I was tempted to buy that book once. It didn’t get rave reviews on publication, but I’d been awarded £10 worth of book tokens for accidentally deceiving the teachers into thinking I had been studious. Each subject had two categories, effort and achievement, and I was awarded the effort prize for German. There couldn’t have been a more wounding insult. Everyone knew that was the conciliatory prize they gave what we affectionately called the “spackers”, so you could understand my anger at being put out to graze with these obtuse fellows. Consequently, I decided to make the school think I tried hard at German so I could become a Nazi. But then I thought that spending £10 of the school’s money on fascist propaganda was a little strong just to make a point. I bought “101 Ways to be Lazy” instead, but I never got round to reading it.
(NorwegianLube Erm..., Sun 16 Aug 2009, 23:13, 1 reply)

Oho
Just remembered another one. About two years ago when I was still in sixth form, the school's head of business studies got the school involved in a project designed to encourage young entrepreneurs. This took the form of a nationwide project where over 10,000 young people were given £10. The aim? You had six weeks to increase it as much as possible. The person who was the most successful would receive a big prize (somewhere in the thousands of pounds).

Do you know what the most successful entry from our school was? Rachel's.

She bought ten £1 scratchcards and won £60.

Rachel is now an accountant.
( MatJ LOOK, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 22:30, 1 reply)

Home Ec.
Home Economics. Making food that tastes bad.

I can't remember what we were cooking, but I remember we were working in twos. We had to warm up our plates.

'Put your plates on the hob to warm them up' announces the teacher to class.

Me and my compadre look at each other. She did say 'hob' didn't she? How odd. Surely you warm plates in the oven. Still, she's the teacher and knows these things.

We put the plates on the hob, and bung the heat on full.

Five minutes later...BANG! Plate one explodes, shrapnel flying across the room. Teacher locks on to us - 'you boys! What are you thinking of?!'

BANG!
Plate two explodes, fragments embedding themselves in the wall.

Teacher goes mental. 'You idiot boys, why are your plates on the hob?'

'Er, we thought it rather strange, but that's what you SAID!'

'Don't be so stupid..!' At this point, seeing the rage of our teacher, all the other groups are surreptisously turning the heat off on their hobs, and breaking out the oven gloves and removing their plates...

Teacher notices this. You can see the mental cogs whirring - 'shit, I must have said 'hob'...'

'Er, Don't do it again!'

'Righto miss.'
(inflateable, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 22:01, Reply)

Following a recent theme in my posts
Here's another picture:




If you click 'I like this' I might even explain what it did and what the project was.

Any guesses?


Edit: Alex, I think you know what it is. You're not allowed to enter.

Edit #2: Explanation in replies.
( MatJ LOOK, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 19:09, 19 replies)

Before GCSE
Before GCSE there were CSEs and I think GCOs. We were deemed too unruly to be entered for the harder GCO so the entire year was entered for CSE in all subjects.
In Metalwork we had to design and make a metal toilet roll holder.
Our entire class made basically the same design and we all failed the exam (except nowaday it would be considered a pass because we spelt our names right on the papers).
The problem was we all braised the tube to hold the bog roll onto the hangy thing. Making it impossible to actually put bog roll on it.

The best bit was the thicky taking a metal bar from the forge by his bare hands, screaming "It's f*****g hot" and throwing it at the window. Our windows were some sort of large perspex affairs and it went straight through it.
Ahhhh, happy days.
(Captain Spacker I lick windows, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 18:48, 2 replies)

Coursework? What coursework?
Back in the days of GCSE, because I was in the clever classes for most of my subjects, this meant that I also did GCSE Statistics. Our Maths teacher (great bloke, used to let us play cards in lessons (until my mate decided to build a house of cards instead), and got his wife to sign a detention slip I gave him when he stole my pen) told us right from the off that the coursework/exam ratio for the final grade was about 50/50.

Cue the coursework time and I messed around loads. I did write out a survey which I distributed, and compiled the results and created a few perfunctory graphs in Excel.

The time came for the coursework to be returned marked, and my maths teacher (lets call him Roger, for twas his name) didn't give me mine back and asked if I could stay back for a moment at the end of the lesson.

I got 9 marks. I don't know how many the average GCSE Coursework marks scheme goes up to, but the 9 was exceptionally low. He said that it would be easier for me to redo it completely rather than try and improve what I had. I did better in the Statistics module of GCSE Maths than I did in the actual GCSE Statistics.

Because of this and the lack of time, he was going to have to reduce my predicted grade from a B to a U, and he was - as teachers often are - ashamed on my behalf because I could have done so much better. He also said that there probably wasn't much point in me taking the exam either.

I did sit the exam.

Cue results day. I looked at my results, and saw that I got a B in Statistics.

I got the grade that I had been predicted without doing the coursework.

If I had done the coursework properly, this would have been the only subject I got an A in.

Then again, what can one do with an A* in GCSE Statistics?

Length? about 2 hours if I remember
(richietheg my dad buries dead people. he's an undertaker., Sun 16 Aug 2009, 17:29, 1 reply)

Not quite a project
but A-Level Sociology. The bollocking from the teacher went thusly:-

Teach: "If you don't buck your ideas up and come into class, I'll have no choice but to fail you."

Me: "Um, what?"

Teach: "I've not seen you once this year."

Me: "I've been at every lesson. It says so on the sheet of paper in front of you."

That was the very moment when I realised that keeping your head down and working hard will get you nowhere in life compared to acting like an attention grabbing twat.
(Captain Skippy pooed in a bag and left it on your doorstep, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 16:50, Reply)

Whoooooosh!
At school, I was never particularly good at maths or science but I excelled at English (oh, those were the days).
When I was young and innocent, I should say around 11-12 perhaps, we were instructed by our Biology teacher to do a project on the reproductive process. I stalled and stalled and finally, exasperated, the teacher offered me a way out.
"As you're so interested in English subjects rather than the sciences, why not write a poem?"
Brilliant! thinks I. And so I set to work.

I'd just like to point out that this *was* back in the day and JUST before all innocence was lost and I set about it with gusto.
Upon handing it in I noticed the teacher was very pleased. In fact she seemed extraordinarily pleased. She was certainly smiling a lot.
She gave me an A* immediately. But that's not all.

She later came up to me in the halls and asked if I would like to do something special as my poem was so good. She asked that I write it out on a HUGE piece of A1 paper "complete with illustrations" for display and I would get extra credit.
Revelling in for once being the star Science student, I did this also with relish and gusto.

A few years later, I found out why I was given this extra special treatment... I was allowed into the staffroom where I saw my work of art displayed in a VERY prominent position.
There, in all its glory, was my unintentionally hilarious, extremely detailed and highly emotive poem about sexual intercourse, complete with smiley faced sperm all over the page.
I can't remember all of it although I believe the highlight of the poem was reaching the crescendo of the "sperm's race":

"Faster and faster they race fit to burst.
Who will be the winner? Who will come first?
Harder and harder blood pumps to keep it firm.
And then!
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSH! Here comes the sperm!"*

I'd wondered why different teachers kept muttering "Whoosh" around me. :o( Bastards.

First post. Please be gentle. Apologies for length - you should have seen the full poem!

*Ok, so I wasn't exactly Coleridge, admittedly...
( MademoiselleDave is drunk and on the internet again on, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 16:21, 8 replies)

geography, first year
the calendar project

i found geography unbearably tedious (still do, in fact, which is why i humiliated myself at a wedding yesterday by thinking that the honeymooning couple were off down under to see tasmanian devils... in tanzania.... anyway), and did not spend overly long on mine.

which is why i was surprised to be pulled up to the front of the class and made to hold my project in front of me to show them all. beaming proudly, i skipped up to the front, and did as i was told.

yeah, turned out it was to show them all how NOT to do it. 4/40. and a severe bollocking. to rub salt into my smarting wounds, as i limped back to my chair, the teacher barked: "and if you're upset about that low mark, i can show you what position you came in the class, if you like. now that's a very high number indeed..."
( rachelswipe with a fork, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 16:10, 2 replies)

Tally ho! Chocks away!
In my school days I was in the Combined Cadet Force (where the Ministry of Defence funds school kids to play soldiers), in the Royal Air Force section.

In order to progress up the ranks, we had to pass some exams and do a project on something related to the Air Force. (unlike the army, who simply had to stick around long enough. Or the Navy. Um... yeah)

I decided to do a project on aircraft recognition. I detailed ways of recognising aircraft, the history of aircraft recognition etc.

Fortunately, what my commanders never realised is that I had (and still have) no fecking clue how to tell the difference between most aircraft. Dunno why, they all look roughly the same to me; big lumps of grey steel with some wings here and there.

This came to a head when I did some work experience at the RAF museum in Colindale. I was working with the maintenance man for the aircraft, and we pottered about cleaning oil leaks and climbing all over the planes for a week. We were in the WWII aircraft section, and John pointed to a plane;

"Recognise that one?" he asked me

Ah, buggery. I knew it was either a Spitfire or a Hurricane.

"Yeah, that's a Spitfire" I guessed

"Yup! You know, some people can't even tell the difference. Morons..."

I'm fairly sure if I was ever in an anti-aircraft unit I'd either have to shoot nothing (like the French) or shoot everything (like the Americans).
(tarbin tarbis, tarbit, tarbamus, tarbimus, tarbant, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 13:30, 4 replies)

When I was a youngster the educational establishment was going through a period of ideological turmoil.
The question was based on the actions of Tidus's father in the computer game "Final Fantasy X." Specifically, was it an courageous thing for a man to leave his career and family in order to travel a thousand years into the future and fight against a giant sea monster?
While many teachers and headmasters felt that this was an immoral action, my school asserted that these actions constituted a courageous and noble sacrifice.
That was my school, pro-Jecht.
( Dr Preference AjcuiVd289, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 13:25, 1 reply)

I remember once in secondary school
Where I was given an assignment by a teacher - a fellow B3tan, no less - to write up a 2000 word essay on the cultural relevance of the QotW and its reflection of contemporary society.

I won't post the entire thing - I overshot the word limit by a good 1000 words or so - but the gist of it was:

An old establishment, steeped in it's own unique culture, which is almost uniformly regarded by every one of it's members to have been much better in the past.

I thought it was an excellent piece of writing, eloquently but concisely worded. I got it back and atop it in red pen was the annotation:

Shit question. Try again next week.
(DarkLite swallowed my entire undercarriage, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 11:33, 3 replies)

Odd School Project
I remember back in the good old days of elementry, we had to do book reports. I would stay up late at night and when it was time to turn in the project I forgot to do the writeing portion and I copied and pasted information about the book from the internet and I got an A.
(ami2weird4u I have 10 penises., Sun 16 Aug 2009, 4:42, Reply)

I used to be really into my BMX when I was younger.
Me and my friends all used to ride around everywhere on the weekends - although I was probably the most into it; I had a proper helmet with a visor, protective gloves etc.

Anyway I also got my first girlfriend at this time. Well, very briefly. Her parents really didn't like me for some reason. I'm not sure, maybe the BMX-obsession gave them the impression that I was 'rougher' than I really was.

Obviously I was pretty angry when she broke up with me, telling me that her parents had told her to. I actually stacked my bike on the way home, which never happened otherwise. I got a scraped knee and everything.

Betty went to a different school, and apparently when I stopped riding over there at lunchtime the rumour grapevine decided I was dead.

Or as they put it, "gone gone gone gone."

Groups of girls hey?
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 1:51, 5 replies)

Was perhaps a tad obsessive as a kid
As an end of year project in year 5 (so I was about 10), our teacher set us a project about Great Britain. What about Great Britain? Well, anything! You could do any project you liked, so long as it was Great Britain themed. Needless to say, by the time it come to hand these projects in, there were quite a lot of 'Famous Monuments of Great Britain' and 'Famous People of Great Britain'. My best friend was slightly more interesting and had done her project on 'Wildlife of Great Britain'. What did I do?

'Bauhaus Architecture in Great Britain'


The subtitle could have been 'or how there isn't very much of it and I've been to visit every single bit personally and have taken photos, look, see!'.

There were footnotes...

I had cases studies comparing the architecture of new building projects such as supermarkets to highlight differing attitudes towards modernism...

Which led me to conclude that Britain is essentially prosaic and backwards looking in its attitude which is reflected in architecture.


I got an A and some very odd looks
( Hampster Squared has stuff at www.tilla.co.uk, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 1:30, 3 replies)

When we were in year 3 (about 7 years old)
We had to do a chalk and charcoal drawing of WWII.

We had two hours to do it, and we all got to work. Most of my classmates did something of soldiers fighting, loads of blood and gore from the lads.

Mine was a soldier, rifle over shoulder, leaning on one knee, rosary beads in his hand. Amongst him were bodies, one of which he was looking at. There was one single tear coming from his eye.

I won that one hands down :D

That picture stayed up in our school hall right up until I left.
( Methylene Blue - electrohead, Sun 16 Aug 2009, 1:19, Reply)

10 years and i'm still aggravated...
10 years AGP t'interwebs werd still a foreign country to us belgians, and I was in my last year of high school. One day, we had to hand in an essay for which I spent a full week working, hoping to prove my great literary talents - those werd the days of unstopped idealism. I handed of in, all smug and expecting nothing nut praise, only to get it back with an score of 45percent. When in asked my teacher why she had boven me such an los mark, she said it was because it was soms good, in must have copied it from "the internet". Outraged, I asked her to show me the source, nut the silly bint refused to do that, since "the internet" was top big for her to find it. I revenged myself by writing essays throughout my universitary career and placing them right there, on "the interwebs"- scary place that is...
(Poezestrepe, Sat 15 Aug 2009, 21:37, 4 replies)

One fine day...
....during a German lesson, aged about 13; we were challenged to write a song (in German) that represented everything that Germany was about. Challenging task as this may have been for such burgeoning minds as ours, we came up trumps with the poorly translated 'Meine Schone Lederhosen' with an accompanying pair of black cardboard 'leather' trousers. Being on the receiving end of detentions for 'intentional racism', I have no qualms in telling everyone that my German teacher had by all accounts appeared in a porn mag, lying in a bath covered in baked beans, and if I can ever find it, I will use it as my profile picture on every social networking site I can find. Stick that up your tomato sauce covered backside, Fraulein, you fat bint.
(Nimrod's Son Boredom provokes some interesting habits..., Sat 15 Aug 2009, 19:26, 1 reply)

Creative Expression
That was the title of a course module - mandatory - that I attended while doing Graphic Design a long time ago. The dick-head who was running it was from Eastern Europe - which meant that he'd escaped, way back then - and a more arrogant, self-satisfied, overweight git, you'd struggle to find. Not only can I remember his full name, but also how to spell it. But I'll just refer to him as 'Jacek'.

For the end-of-module 'final', we had to get teamed up with two or three others and create an 'event' round the theme of the four classical Greek elements. (Air, Fire, Earth & Water). 1 week to prepare.

For 'Earth' we got hold hold of some potted plants which looked very much like pot plants (they weren't).

For 'Air' we lit up some fake, cartoonishly extravagant reefers and blew the smoke over the enthralled onlookers.

For 'Fire' we sprayed white spirit over the pot(ted) plants and torched them. Woof!

For 'Water' we chucked a bucket of water over them. And then two more buckets over Jacek. (Wild applause).

Fails all round and a bollocking from the Head of Department (who was pissed off about 'the drug use' and 'the fire hazard'... curiously, he didn't mention soaking a lecturer).

Oh, and I just remembered, this also got me (a) noticed and (b) laid by a lovely fellow student a couple of days after.
( MisterPunch did it that way on, Sat 15 Aug 2009, 17:38, 1 reply)

I was twenty-one years when I wrote this song
But I think with good behaviour that it won't be that long.
People ask me "when will you grow up to be a man?"
I can still look at schoolgirls if I hide in a van.

Billy Britter ladies and gentlemen. The single from his new album, 'Talking With the Taxman About Pedaresty'.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 15 Aug 2009, 15:28, 2 replies)

Not quite a project, but I hope it fits
In my primary school each year, the entire school would have competition across all the years. This was an adrenaline-pumping, heart-racing maelstrom of knowledge. This was Mastermind.

Essentially, the entire school would be made available for an assembly where our headteacher would ask general knowledge questions. Everyone's hand shoots up, first one answers. If you get three right then you go up on THE STAGE.

Once 15 people are on the stage it progresses to the finals - the winner is declared Mastermind and got... you know what, I can't even remember what you got for it but as you see it's the principle. Anyway, some spod in Year 6 ALWAYS won.

So, our school was made of Year 3, Year 4, Year 5 and - you guessed it - Year 6. This covered the ages of 7-11. In Year 4 I had my first Mastermind appearance, answering three questions right and being one of the first on stage.

Unfortunately there I fell to the far superior intellect of the 10- and 11-year-olds I was competing against. In the end, a Year 6 won it. They ALWAYS won it.

In Year 5, I shone. I had two questions under my belt and 13 people were on stage already. My hand shot up again and again like Gary Glitter's cock outside the school gates at 3pm but to no avail. Now 14 on stage! Finally, in the dying seconds of the last assembly, I got there first, answered a question right, and got on stage as one of the chosen 15.

So we come to the finals. I storm through and by the time we're down to 10 people I'm in the lead on points. I was a virtual celebrity in my class and had the first chance to be a non-Year 6 and win the competition.

I held the lead until the last 3 when a drought of reasonable questions came my way and I slipped. Still, we were down to a sudden death round between myself and some Year 6 guy.

I can't remember the question in question, I can't remember how I fucked up. But I did. Second place - still a fantastic achievement to effectively be crowned the second most-intelligent child in the school, but SO close to the win.

Oh well, as the teacher presenting said: "Well, Matt, you live to fight another year."

WELL I FUCKING DIDN'T.

The stupid cunts didn't put on Mastermind next year. I was in Year 6 and everyone KNEW I was guaranteed the win. It was a fucking conspiracy. It still rankles.

Cunts.
(MJPerry was crude but clickable at, Sat 15 Aug 2009, 12:46, Reply)

Draw the Ressurrection of Jesus
Whereas everyone else drew bearded stick-men surrounded by yellow light, I decided to go for the realistic approach.

At the end of the lesson I handed in a full-colour drawing showing, in gruesome detail, the body of Christ being dragged from its resting place by bears.

I didn't get on with my RE teacher after that, although in all fairness my picture is probably what actually happened.
(MJPerry was crude but clickable at, Sat 15 Aug 2009, 12:23, 5 replies)

the axe of the gods
Built the aforementioned axe of the gods for my A-level final piece. It was a matte black rock machine, and sounded every bit as amazing as you'd imagine an MDF electric guitar to sound. However, college informed me that I'd need to pay £175 or summat for my second year work to be marked, which I had no way of paying. So, deciding to scrap my future in musical instrument design, I didn't bother handing in my final project work. Imagine my delight then when my grade arrived out of the blue a month later, and I'd failed my A-level due to a lack of work at the end of the course. The bastards never even sent me my bill, proving that the whole £175 issue was probably just a test of faith. I'm not too pissed off though in retrospect, as I spent most of my final year getting stoned and cutting and pasting magazine clippings and talking about shit with my mates, which was worth the bus fare on it's own.
(jim.hatley.tech, Sat 15 Aug 2009, 12:20, Reply)

As part of "Craft/Design/Technology"..
..we had 6 months to design something, and create it in our school workshop from whatever materials were available.

I decided to create an adjustable tripod for a camera.

I of course instead spent 5 months and 3 weeks fucking about in the workshop, welding things together, making throwing stars, melting aluminium and trying to make Warhammer figurines, trying to colour steel*, putting people's pencil cases into the furnace, that sort of thing.

After 6 weeks I realised I had fuck all, so I handed in 3 sawn-off chair legs as a "Work in Progress".

The teacher wasn't fooled, but was amused.

*Our metalworks teacher was a lovely man, but totally scatter-brained. He was missing 2 fingers on his left hand and 3 on the other. He lost the right fingers to a bandsaw and legend had it that he lost the left fingers when demonstrating to a class how he lost his right fingers. Anyway, I wanted to colour a piece of steel and he had a tip - if I heated it up in the furnace until it glowed and dipped it into whale oil, it would turn blue. I asked where I could get whale oil and he said he didn't know, but had a canister of Duckhams that I could use as an alternative.

I will never forget the 6 foot flame that shot out of that canister and over my shoulder as I gently lowered a white-hot steel pole into it. Neither will my mate who was standing behind me in his new Nike Kagoul.
( Dixipoos Bye Bye Blackbird, Sat 15 Aug 2009, 12:16, Reply)

The most Dangerous Project for a 12 year old...
Ok, 8th grade (yep, American with chagrin) Physical Science II class.

"Build a project related to class". Went to in school library and found book on "Fun Science Projects for Teens". Hmmm this looks interesting, "Carbon Arc Furnace".

What this was, was a home-built way to "melt soft metal using electricity".

You see all you have to do it take two batteries apart for the carbon rod inside, mount them to two wooden posts, run lamp wire from a home power outlet, through a OPEN GLASS CONTAINER OF WATER and salt, then to the two carbon rods, when the rods are brought in proximity the electricity jumps across and heats a flat ceramic tile held above it.

The teacher looked at my finished device, dubiously, and asked if it was "safe", of course I said yes. Do I want the lights turned off for effect? "Ok".

Cue me bringing the two rods together holding TWO THOUSAND WATTS of electricity about 12 inches, apparently a death-proof distance, in front of my face (in the dark).

This thing makes the Van de Graf Generator demonstration done in most science class’s cry in shame at their impotence. It made a lighting bolt sound and a 1/4" diameter arc 1 1/2" wide. No one in his or her right mind would let an ADULT build or operate this thing.

Suffice to say I blew the lights in SIX classrooms and permanently was called "Einstein" for the remaining five years of public school.

ADDENDUM: As an after thought I thought I would add that the lampcord was connected to the carbon rods by rapping them around and twisting the wire, the lam cord in the beaker of solution was two bare wires hanging and unsecured the in beaker. The two rods were moved together with my hands less than 1 inch from the rods, bare wires, and beaker leads.

So:

Touch a carbon rod: Die (teacher goes to jail)
Touch a wire: Die (teacher goes to jail)
Knock over the beaker whilst wiggling the contraption and spilling electrified liquid: Die (teacher goes to jail)
Unsecured beaker wires falls out of beaker and touch it:Die (teacher goes to jail)
Looking Directly into High Intensity Ultra-Violet (X-ray) radiation for too long: Blindness (teacher goes to jail)


Footnote: I just decided to build another one THAT"S how cool it was.
(OMG-Hilarious, Sat 15 Aug 2009, 11:45, 7 replies)

A-level psychology
Part of the A-level psychology course was to design, conduct and evaluate your own psychological study. So, I decided to do something a bit different than the 'suggestions' given by our lecturers (for the numpties), and mine was simple, but effective:

H1 - women looking at pictures of men after eating chocolate will find the men more attractive because of the release of...serotonin or something.

H0 - eating chocolate will have no effect on how attractive women perceive men to be

So, we have to fill in proposal forms and send them to the BPS, covering if any ethical issues will be raised, how we will deal with these, if they are justified and so on.

So, off I sends mine, with the working title: "Does chocolate make men more attractive?"

I got it back, and written in red pen in big letters at the top, was the legend: "Have you tried dipping them in it?"

I got an A


EDIT: I cocked up my results (ie couldn't be arsed to do them all so made some up realising I'd have more to write about if my experiment seemed a bit shit), so I have no idea if my hypothesis is valid or not. All female b3tans who want to volunteer to repeat the experiment click 'I like this'!
(BelladonnaAnodyne Melissa's gonna wet herself, I swear..., Sat 15 Aug 2009, 11:22, 2 replies)