The Venice Biennale
Another trip whilst a fine art student…

We went to Venice in June and it was about 30 degrees…baking hot and because of all that water…very, very humid and sweaty….

As is the usual for these trip the cheapest flea-ridden hotel had been found…this time not next to a brothel, but possibly doing trade as one….Four of us – all female – sharing a room meant for two…in all that heat….Which of course meant that one thing led to another and I went walking around Venice at three in the morning…couldn’t sleep in all that moist warmth…ahem….Manage to get myself propositioned by various men and women, but pretty much felt safe….

The following day we were off to see the Biennale (which is why we had gone then), we get onto a water bus which is groaning with tourists and a few Venetians. Some argument broke out as the conductor of the ‘bus’ decided that there were enough on board and wasn’t letting any more on….Suddenly a space opened up between the conductor and the guy arguing about his mate getting on, everyone moves to the opposite side of the boat (not a good idea) and the punches start to fly….Cue one of my friend shouting out as loudly as possible, “PUNCH HIM! PUNCH HIM!” and me giggling uncontrollably….It stopped the fight and I got chucked off the boat…..

She had actually been saying Pace….peace in Italian….
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 16:48, Reply)

Victory was mine
During one of those outward bound deelies they make you go on i ended up in a canoe with a rather large pe teacher known as 'big bertha' and my friend. As we pulled away from the bank she proudly declaimed that she had been never been sunk before. With a little co-ordination we managed to have her in the water within 5 minutes.

My friend in the year below went on the same trip the year after me. Said 'big bertha' was also on the trip. The facilities were somewhat limited and the group had to change in a field. At this point the bull who occupied the field chose to saunter over prompting a maked dash out of its way from the rather large teacher and the spontanious blinding of 15 kids
(Seagoons Heros, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 16:46, Reply)

I hate the Belgians
This happened during a trip to Belgium to comemorate the British men who died to defend their poxy country. Having just stood under the menin gate listening to the last post and being moved as much as any self absorbed 15 year olds could be we were leaving when a large and rather stoned group of Belgian appeared and started to beat us up. Except for my mate cheese who was offered weed and asked to look after their bags. Beating a hasty retreat to the coach we escaped with only minor casualties. As we tootled along the motorway we saw them in a vauxhall vectra giving pursuit. They tried to run a massive coach off the road in their little shit heap. The teachers stood at the front of the bus yelling 'dont provoke them'. I glance up to see my best friends arse pushed firmly against window sans trousers.
(Seagoons Heros, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 16:42, Reply)

Vicks Vapo-hell
Year 7, week long trip to France for the last week of school, possibly the shittest trip I've ever been on.

Awful ferry crossing with everyone hurling over the side all the way there. Got there and I got paired into sharing a room with the 'special' kid with Asperger's syndrome because Teacher thought I was mature enough not to take this piss out of him, which is true. However, the whole week I had to deal with his constant phlegmmy lung-butter snoring and his somewhat odd requests for me to apply Vicks Vaporub to his chest every night. I didn't sleep all week for fear of him trying something dodgy in the night.
The food was shit. Everyone on the trip was a bell-end. Everyone called me a liar for saying I'd been to St. Malo before, uncultured fucks. I was subjected to seeing my grotesquely obese History teacher in a pair of Speedos. And i was the only lad not to cop off with the school slut, which in hindsight was probably a good thing because she did have a face like a bag of smashed crabs.
(A Good Egg, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 16:37, Reply)

Channel Fun
During a school trip to France we boarded the ferry at Dover as you do. The weather was a bit rough and there was much pitching of the deck. We were about 14 and were pissing about when my friend Tom was pushed quite firmly by another pal George. Tom stumbled off down the corridor aided by the ships role. He put his hands up infront if him to stop himself on the onrushing wall. At this point a women in her early 20's at just the right height rounded the corner. Tom slammed, outstreched arms first into her rather ample chest and stood there transfixed while groping her, she seemed to enjoy the experince quite alot, he ran off with a muttered apology and laughter ringing in his ears, wimp
(Seagoons Heros, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 16:36, Reply)

Kenya
A bit far for a school trip you say? Well it wasn't technically a school trip, it was a World Challenge expedition. However, it was run through the school and we had teachers with us. Go figure.

Anyway, about 5 days into the month long trip we go to Hell's Gate National park. The name alone should have been a warning. Anyway, we arrive in the morning and pitch our camp on top of a very picturesque cliff. Our buses are still with us at this point. They take 5 of us back to the entrance to get firewood, then piss off.

We get the firewood, and walk back to the camp- about 45 minutes in the midday sun. This is ok, we have water with us. Walking back into the camp, we find the rest of the team huddled at one end, and our camp being ripped apart by baboons. Now, baboons may look amusing but they're vicious bastards. They got into our food trailer and were ripping tins of food apart with their teeth. Let me repeat that TINNED FOOD being ripped into.

So naturally, were all scared. So we decide on the only sensible course of action. Walk down the cliff, through the park and back to the entrance. The cliff descent was bad enough, but when walking through the park we didn't have any water. A member of the team fainted. Things were going well.

We finally get to the entrance, call the buses back, and head back to the camp armed with automobiles. One blast of a high pitched whistle and all the baboons disappeared, leaving us to grab our stuff and get the hell out of there. We lost all our food for the week, and our equipment was all damaged.

Still, the rest of the trip was incredible.

Length? About a month, weren't you listening?
(Urban Hermit Exit, pursued by a bear on, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 16:18, Reply)

True Story - Homeless Sex Pest
Not funny - 100% true

French Exchange, it was lower VIth so It would be..... 1995 ish.

Staying in a youth hostel, two wings, one for boys and one for girls. Now you can imagine the efforts the teachers had to keep the boys out of the girls dorm and vice versa, but one night our surepticious climbing over balconies turned out to be a good thing.

About 3am we were woken up by broken glass and screaming, to find that a local hobo had climbed up the outside of the building, got in to one of the girls rooms and was trying hard to rape one of the girls. Her screaming woke everyone up, and the couple of lads who were over in that wing were wrestling him off.

The rest of us piled out and jumped from one balcony to the other and before the teachers arrived had managed to give the scumbag a right kicking (in fairness, about 40 16/17 year old lads versus one hobo he didn't stand much of a chance.

Fortunately the french plod were happy with our method of 'restraint' and the guy got dragged off in bits.

The teachers weren't too bothered about us being in mixed rooms after that...


Which meant that i got to do lots of teh sexing with teh ladies! Wooties!
( ogwen69 has returned from Reddit, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 16:16, Reply)

A jolly old trip to the morgue...
When I was in 8th grade (about 11?), the special unit kids and a group of us who were deemed to be of a calm and mature nature were told we were going on a school trip. We were told that the trip was going to be educational and science related - we were going to the morgue. No letters were handed out, no parents were called, nothing. On the morning of our trip, we were told that someone had blabbed and their parents objected to their mentally disabled child being taken to see dead bodies so we went to a sheep farm instead.

We did stand outside the morgue and we saw a dead persons foot when someone opened the door. They gave us a pleasent little speech about how if you lived on the streets and nobody claimed your body when you died, this is where you would end up. Then they showed us some pickled organs.

Odd.
(beelee, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 16:13, Reply)

Business Studies, Disneyland, 2001
Ah, if ever there were an excuse to go to Disneyland for a few days, this was it. I spent the presentations doodling and the rest of the time blowing the money my parents had given me to spend.

* Our teacher showing The Rocky Horror Picture Show on the bus... we were 15, for chrissakes! Although the alternative was Kevin & Perry Go Large...

* Buying cheap lighters (why?) from dodgy blokes under the Eiffel Tower only to see them chased off by police. Trust me; you've never seen anyone run faster from a Frenchman on a bicycle. With a whistle.

* The big unpopular creep of the school thinking his bum bag had been stolen from around his waist (yes, you read that correctly) whilst in a church... only to be found on his seat on the bus. Then crying about it. Fucking twatmunch.

* The big unpopular creep of the school (whom me and friend were sharing a room with) climbing onto our bunks in the night... cue one of the best kicks to the face I've ever performed. Fucking creepy-ass twatmunch.

* Discovering our laser-pens worked the full distance of the big lake just outside the big shopping area... useless device or not, that's a long fucking way.

The crowning glory was quite possibly on the bus tour around Paris. We happened across the Princess Diana memorial, which for reasons unknown had been graffitied. It was at this point my friend (now flatmate) said one of his funniest ever lines.

*looks at graffitied memorial*
"Jesus... some people just have no respect for the dead!"
*takes a photograph*

A legend, says I.
( Iki I think my camel is dead., Fri 8 Dec 2006, 16:09, Reply)

Filthy Bastards
Once upon a time, my school rugby team went on a tour of Holland. All went well, and we arrived unbeaten for our final match in Amsterdam. We won (woo), and were let of the leash for the night. Strangely enough, things started to go wrong soon after (at least half of the team being 16, with a few 18 year olds in charge).

Aside from a few early fallers who weren't used to weed, advocat, and beer, the group managed to stay together. That was, until our token popular-but-only-because-he-was-filthy-rich-so-not-really lad offered to pay for everyone to go whoring.

When you're that age, it doesn't seem like such a bad idea. When you see what just been in there before you, it suddenly seemed like a very bad idea indeed. Any remaining doubts were confirmed when a collective lack of imagination and hygeine led to the team forming a line at the same door. Poor girl.

I thought better of it, and wandered off to look at some porn and then go back to our youth hostel. Now, where was it again? Hmmm, let's ask a hotel doorman.
'Hello, where is the youth hostel please.'
'Fer shure, but vich vun? Der are hunderts.'
'Ah.'

So, 16 years old, innocent, smashed, and with no money, no idea where I was, or where I needed to be, I roamed Amsterdam until 5.00 in the morning. Eventually, and purely by chance, I recognised a shop and found my way back to our hostel. 30 minutes before we were due to leave for England.

I needn't have bothered. Our teachers didn't make it back for another three hours. I thought a lot better of them after that...

As for the line, everyone in it spend a very uncomfortable 10 hours in a cramped mini bus trying to scratch themselves without being noticed.

Length, yes, painful rash, no.
(Hampton St.Roker (has probably had your mum), Fri 8 Dec 2006, 16:05, Reply)

As part of our French O level course
we went dogging in Calais.

I've not been able to look at a baguette since without wincing.
( Goatworrier had your mum and she was shit, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 15:54, Reply)

On a school exchange to France
i managed to somehow aquire the fattest, smelliest farm boy going, he even had his own very special pair of cone-tits. Lovely. One day me and the rest of my school frends and their exchange partners went to a local water-park type thing, which really was great fun...until i saw it. My exchange partner's delightfully hideous mother, with an even more hideous "floating" tit, displaying a large bright red nipple. arrrgh it made my eyes bleed.
I also heard on that same excursion that a friend's exchange partner got caught wanking in the water canal thing (bit with a current). I hate to imagine what people might have inadvertantly consumed. mmm.
apologies for length (they were brain spackingly long).
( Mr Jamie, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 15:53, Reply)

Fun at Jorvik
We were never allowed a school trip again after this one :)

I was in year 5 at Junior school (roughly 8 years old) and we went on a day trip to the Jorvik Viking centre. I don't know if it's still the same now but there used to be a little carriage ride through some viking scenery with sound effects and that, well, there were more kids than teachers so our carriage didn't have any adult supervision in it.

About half way round, just out of sight of reception, a lad called Payney (can't remember his real name now) jumped out of the carriage and into the display. Obviously we all followed him and pretty much ran amuck.

His mate took a dump in the Viking's 'house' and a few of the rest of us managed to carry a figure over to the train tracks and blocked them, meaning that the next carriage stopped and an alarm started going off.

We were pretty much run out of the place with our teacher half screaming half sobbing in shame.

Never been back, I recon they still might have our names...
(cake It's about bloody time too, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 15:43, Reply)

One from the other side
This story comes third hand, so I'm not sure how true/accurate it is...

My sister in law and brother in law are both teachers, and there's one story I know of where they were on a school trip on a camp site in France.

One morning, sis in law decided she needed to shave her legs with an electric shaver.

Cue a large group of young teenage boys with overactive imaginations taking a great interest in the buzzing noises coming out of her tent :)
( Mike Fishcake teamfishcake.co.uk - better than your mum's face, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 15:30, Reply)

Kark C***** stole my sweets when we went to the Blue John Mines
I told the teacher who didn't believe me, he's in Risley Remand Centre at the mo up on theft charges - now who's 'making it up to get someone in trouble"?
(Chopper3, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 15:28, Reply)

French Exchange
I went on a french exchange trip with school when I was about 13. For the most part it was brilliant with muchos flirting with the boys culminating in a mass waterfight in a french theme park.

However, my exchange was let down by the rubbish exchange partner i'd picked. Laetitia was 13 going on 6. On the first night following a day trouping round parisian museums I got back to Laetita's flat at about 6.30, to find her already in her pyjama's dancing round her bedroom to Cotton Eye Joe, complete with thigh slapping, foot stamping and yeehaa's.

At the weekend we went to Laetitia's house in the country, which she told me had a swimming pool, alas no, when we got there it had a hole in the ground which the french dad and his french friends were in the process of building. The only time we left the house all weekend was when we got taken on a trip to the local fishfarm, let me tell you once you've seen one rectangular pool full of fish, you've seen them all - there is no need for a three hour long trip.

To add insult to injury everyone else from my class had been to the local waterpark that weekend and had spent a day riding slides, playing in the waves and splashing each other.... I think i may have actually cried.
(Melonetta, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 15:15, Reply)

god just remembered
Got voted "ugliest boy in the school" during a trip to Anglesey. By the entire 5th year.

Does wonders for your self-esteem. Wouldn't have minded but I was the PE teacher, I thought they were cool.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 15:01, Reply)

Please, Miss! You're on my cock!
It was a geography trip to a local forest to show us how deciduous trees grow, or some such shite. The only good thing about it was that our geography teacher was Miss Miller, at 23 not improbably older than us and every 17 year-old's fantasy. Her tits are burned in my memory even now.

As it was a sixth form thing, the school didn't hire a coach but a minibus. One problem: there weren't enough seats, and as Miss Miller was the last to board, she had nowhere to sit.

"One of you lads is going to have to sit on another," she said. This was soundly rejected as nobody wanted to endure a lifetime of homosexual jibes. So she said, "OK, I'm going to have to sit on your lap, Frankspencer." And she did.

By Christ she had a soft arse! And as she wriggled it to get comfortable, I felt little Frank becoming rigid. After a very short time, so did she. But she wasn't about to mention it in front of everyone else. Indeed, she didn't get up or show any sign of embarrassment. She started to rub against it.

At first, I thought it was accidental, but when she opened her legs a little and pushed her hips back to position herself precisely on my bulging tip, I guessed otherwise. Back and forth she rubbed until I could control myself no longer and filled my boxers with molten jis.

As we prepared to disembark from the minibus, she whispered in my ear with hot breath, "That'll teach you not to get up for a lady" and tripped off to explain about photosynthesis - as cold ejacualte trickled down my thigh.
(frankspencer, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 14:59, Reply)

oh christ you've opened the flood gates
French Exchange, Lyon, c.1986. Fucking twat frog 'penpal' wrote to me before I left and told me to bring Ski gear. All excited, my mum bought me the whole lot, at great expense at the time. Not bad for someone who lived at least 200 miles from any kind of mountain. This was going to be a FANTASTIC french exchange. Skiing! How posh! (remember 1986, I'd only ever seen it on telly).

Finally arrived Chez Guillame, as was his name. All very exciting, we're conversing about madonna albums and things. His mum takes my suitcase to put my things away in my room. In those days, the exchanges were long - about 4 weeks. The ski-wear was bulky and thus the amount of normal clothes was greatly reduced - enough for about 3 or 4 days so would have to be washing a lot. Suddenly, we hear his mum burst in to laughter. The whole family ran in to my room and all joined in the laughter. I followed them. All five of them were wetting themselves at the sight of all my ski gear. All of which I was immensely proud of. I couldnt work out what was so funny and went horribly, horribly red. They seemed to laugh for hours. Eventually, Guillame explained to me that the whole ski-ing thing was a joke! I wasnt really meant to bring ski wear. They thought it would just be hilarious to tell me to bring it. I dont think they thought for a second my mum would have to spend £200+ on gear. A shitload of money in 1986 for an unemployed housewife.

Fucking french twat. We spent 4 weeks fighting. On the last day i utterly flipped and broke the little fuckers nose. I was dragged off him by his mother and sent to stay with someone else for the last night. I remember that last day with great glee.

I might post the activities of the middle 4 weeks of that trip, they're pretty bad.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 14:59, Reply)

School Trip
Bullies got me with a classic double-team manouevre. One crouching behind as a knee height stumbling block. The other in front equipped with friendly smile and not so friendly double-handed shove. Bad, bad trip.
(Phony Montana, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 14:26, Reply)

teachers are just as bad as the kids
another memorable trip was the year 12 biology trip as it just turned into a 4 day piss up with the teachers, didnt do any work whatsoever and just got slaughter

also year 9 trip to alton towers, played strip black jack on the way home at the back of the bus with some fit girls, very memorable and very wet. walked home bare footed that night.
( Captain Pilchard The king of B-movies!, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 14:22, Reply)

Miss Lane (I am from Barthelona!)
Story # 2, and thanks to rachelswipe for dragging up this horrible memory (what with mentioning having a crush on teachers and such!)

It's senior school now, and we had been taken away to Barcelona for a week, and (that the lord) one of the chaperones was the lovely PE teacher, Miss Lane.

Oh, Miss Lane. Every boy in the whole school fancied Miss Lane. She was a vision of early-90's loveliness, right up to the top of her topknot...

Anyway, so we're all frigging about in the pool, and Miss Lane is watching over us with her crystal blue eyes. A young Devil In Tights leaps out of the pool, veritably yells "Miss Lane! Watch THIS!" in her face; and half falls, half dives in to the pool.

Oh, go me. She'll obviously want to do the sex with me now. Clearly, my huge splash is refelective of my thunderous ejaculatory power! So, again, I get out of the pool, and request of her:

"Did you like that? Shall I do it again?"

She pushed me back in to the pool.

Did I mention I was wearing Speedos? The shame.
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 13:53, Reply)

Monthly Ski trip !
I was a member of the school ski team (not particularly good, I just had no fear of falling at high speed ergo quite quick)
Every month we'd be hauled through from Glasgow to dear Auld Reekie to a place called Hillend (now renamed Midlothian Ski Centre), we'd train, fanny around yaddah yaddah etc. and about 10pm we'd all pack up and head off home via the regular chip shop stop (food of champions !).

Now this chippy still exists and the frontage consists of three equally-sized, floor to ceiling panes of glass with the door in the left one, the fryer in the middle and the staff working on the right. Each night there was a dirty rush from the coach to get served and as I mentioned, being pretty nippy on my pins I was generally at the front of the queue, with the mouth-breathers and others gallumphing along to the rear.

There's me standing at the counter, looks to my right over the poor wee chip shop assistants shoulder to see "Doc" run at full speed straight into what he thought was the opening side of the three glass panes on the front of the shop...the staff nearly shat themselves, it was a miracle the glass never broke, and "Doc" broke his nose and split two of his front teeth.
Until we left school that place was always known as Doc's.

[This is for Fraser]
"I don't cook, clean or swallow"
(afaguslae look out ! wide load...., Fri 8 Dec 2006, 13:50, Reply)

Alton Towers
business studies trip in...year 11 I think.
Two days of skiving in the park and swimming pool bit, with a 20-minute lecture on nothing relevant to business studies.

A load of girls decided to go chasing after some boys in the evening, including my roommates. Boys turned out to be thieving bastards, breaking into everyone's rooms.
They got a nice shock when they tried to break into ours and found me in the bath.

We left the pool to go and get food, decided on pizzas, asked for margheritas to get delivered to our room, ended up with cocktails. Didn't need to tell the teachers that...

Plus the school got us those queue-jumper passes for the whole two days. SCORE.
(and now for someone completely different, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 13:47, Reply)

Bilogy field trip
Back in the mists of time (1989), my science class was loaded onto a coach and sent to Chalkney Woods to learn about rain gauges, coppicing and bits of wood. As you can imagine, we were naturally thrilled to be part of this expedition to fucking nowhere and trooped off to toward the battered coach with the kind of enthusiasm that a soon to be disembowelled medievel convict mustered en route to the gallows.

As we boarded the coach, an unexpected rush for the seats started. "Must. Not. Sit. Next. To. Richard. Moss." was the matra chanted by 25 of the 26 lucky pupils. Richard Moss for his part was known to go several weeks (and even months) without having a wash and posessed the most obnoxious body odour ever. Worse still was his breath, which thanks to all the rotting food caught up in his brace reeked with all the charm of an open tropical sewerage farm during the humid season.

Guess who ended up sat next to Mossy?

The only highlights of the trip were Jane Smith's alleged manual manipulation of an unnamed chap on the back of the bus and Lee Smith (no relation) making sure that freak yellow rainfall was recorded in the weather station's raingauge.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Fri 8 Dec 2006, 13:46, Reply)

a multitude
a few stick out:
on a trip to italy one drunken fellow took a piss out of his window onto the hotel owner. the hotel owner moved and asked him to desist (may not be his actual words), fellow adjusted his aim and continued to moisten the guy's face. was nearly put on the next plane home.

same trip, throwing blood oranges at fish off the ponte vecchio in florence. didn't seem to bother them.

same trip again, discovering the wonders of adelscott, a bottled mixture of whisky and beer, and playing the most savage game of raps ever.

on a camping trip to swanage (from school in poole, not a very far away trip), someone tried to buy jazz mags, was asked if had any id, said "no", started crying and ran out of the shop. also my friend didn't poo the whole week, and had a visible lump in his side.

on route to a ski trip in austria, stopped off for a maccy d's in cologne, used the most disgusting, junkie filled toilets i've ever seen, and marvelled as a man was chased out of maccy d's by armed security staff after stealing a big mac.
(no1_cheesecake, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 13:44, Reply)

Day trip to France
Going on the coach from Wallasey, nearby to Liverpool, to France was a nightmare when one kid threw up inside the coach approximatly 30 seconds after leaving the school grounds. Too many mars bars apparently, I didn't want to find out the full details. Unfortunatly, he wasn't the only one. At least a dozen ate far too much junk food that they threw up.

I never did understand why 36 hours on a coach, for about 12 hours in France was such a good idea, espcially with a coach load of 12 year olds.
(tranmerefan, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 13:41, Reply)

School trip highlights:
- a kid being tripped in the foyer of the edinburgh museum and breaking loads of teeth on the marble floor, blood everywhere. Nice.

- Someone spraying silly string down a hole in the coach floor, smoke coming out the hole and the driver shouting "Everyone get off the bus!". Just after we did it burst into flames making a simpsons style whooomf! noise.

- Being on a biology field trip, getting a bit too cained whilst lazing around a pond in the sun. We had to present our "findings" to our class and one from another school that had just turned up... coincedentaly my mum was their biology teacher. My mate who I'd been "working" with was so trashed that all he could do was sit at the front of the class going white whith his head in his hands while I stuttered the results.

- Scuffing my foot on a bit of concrete on a french beach and removing my toenail in the process. It was a fun watersports holiday from that moment on.

- Being made to eat a raw egg (with shell) by an instructor under the guise of it "earning my team points". Rubbish, he just wanted to see my face while I tried to swallow a whole egg.

- A coach load of kids noticing that numerous french male commuters were wanking whilst stuck in Paris rush hour traffic. Only to be told by an effeminate male teacher that french people were "more passionate than us brits, and more in touch with their feelings" while he tried to cop an eyefull.

- My mates and I going to a university open day and being watched like a hawk by a teacher at the head master's request (he was convinced we were going to go shopping in town). She didn't catch us smoking joints, and didn't notice that all the lower 6th girls had gone missing (she was too busy keeping an eye on us). When all the lower 6th girls got on the coach at the end of the day laden with top shop, monsoon, river island, gap and next bags it made me smile.

- Being stuck on a ferry with little ballast on a stormy day in the english channel. It was a pukefest. People were saving bags they had been sick in to use again, the toilets were one big sicky slidey mess, the decks were awash with multicoloured waves, the whole place smelt like a campari brewery. Someone tried to be sick over the side, but it blew back on board, a girl in it's path noticed what was happening a bit too late and screamed. A mouthful of someone elses puke goes down a treat apparently.

[cock joke here]
(ralphseviltwin, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 13:23, Reply)

Stupid Fooker
I remember on one A-Level biology field trip we played a right corker on the teach.

We were on sand dunes, how marram grass can withstand harsh enviroment etc...

Just before the minibus left my friend and I dug up one of the pansies in the headmasters flowerbed, when we got to the beach we replanted it on the top of the dune. Cue us calling the smart-arse botanist biology teacher and him wracking his brains to try and explain how a pansie can survive on top of a dune. Wanker.
( rjmrjm, Fri 8 Dec 2006, 13:20, Reply)