The stealing game
Sixth year was our best year at school. The teachers were a bit more lax, and you cared a bit less.

One of the best things that happened during our sixth year was the invention of 'the stealing game'

As simple as it sounds really.

You got one point for stealing something (trivial - like pens and rulers from the meticulously counted supply)

Two points for stealing something that had the department written on it ('ENGLISH' or 'COMPUTING' etc)

five points for getting that particular theft used in a different department.

and a whopping 50 points for stealing a teachers id badge


some of the best steals include:
-all 8 of the computing departments doorstops (hidden in a cupboard) which i believe to this day are holding up the piano in the music department.

Cue weeks of 'Who steals doorstops? seriously!' from the head of IT.

-the theft of the signs to point and announce entrance to specific departments, and the re-arrangement of the entire school. (you'd follow the sigh to 'maths department' and end up in the 'geography department' which was actually the cafeteria etc.

-same as above but with the names on the doors of all the teachers offices.

-teachers shying away from us in corridors, because we went all teary-eyed 'oh i cant believe we're leaving this year' *sob* trying to give them a hug (to steal their id badges).

-stealing all the balls from the mice in computing and putting them in the fish tank outside the headteachers office.

-moving clocks between classrooms, so that each classroom still had a clock, just it was a different clock to the one they were used to. a lot of quizzical looks by teachers towards their clocks.

good times
( newg rum n coke, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 13:55, Reply)

Neck burns
Our favourite game at school was to dip our ties in the ethanol during chemistry lessons then set them alight the intention was that you took the tie off before burning your neck. My friend martin did this a bit too slowly and still has a nasty red scar 10 years on.
(kitandholly is dangerous when bored, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 12:33, Reply)

Many years ago
I refused to give up my seat to a white man, and they put me in Prison!
(abignumber, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 12:31, Reply)

Not my story, but a WARNING TO ALL YOUNGSTERS.
Friend of mine's daughter - intelligent, pretty, not enough friends - felt hard done by when her parents bought her a flat of her own. Yes, outright bought and gave her a flat in South London. Seems she thought they just wanted her out of the way.
So to teach them a lesson and make them sorry for what they had done she threw herself down the stairs.
Probably hoped to break an arm, but broke her neck and is now tetrapalegic.
On the plus side she is now back home with her parents as she needs 24/7 attention. So I suppose she always will be at home.
Which also mucks their life up too, so that showed them!
( Farmer Geddon - is on his way., Sun 22 Jul 2007, 12:14, Reply)

I broke my parents' heart
by wearing nothing but brown leather and stuffing, and encouraging people to rest their feet on me. They hated pouffes.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 11:39, Reply)

true story

A woman I used to know had a boyfriend who was so awful that one of her friends said to her "I can understand rebelling against your parents, but you're the only person I know who's rebelling against yourself."
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 11:36, Reply)

my parents were celibate

I rebelled against them by existing.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 11:34, Reply)

I grew up in 19th century Germany

There was a group of 'bad kids' who were into Schubert.

That's when I fell for the pack of the lieder.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 11:29, Reply)

flying bibles
i went to a catholic school - raised an athiest i resented being forced to go to mass and observe holy days, even though it did mean time out from lessons. my religious instruction lessons were held in a room on the top floor - when teacher left the room i started flinging bibles out of the windows, after 6 or 7 i stuck my head out to see where they had landed - on the tops/bonnets/windscreens of various staff members cars, i had forgot the staff car-park was below us.
as for getting caught, the first bible to hit, witnessed by deputy head, was mine, complete with my name dutifuly written in the front. god showed me no mercy for this one!
(hippyjunkiescum, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 11:24, Reply)

"well, don't break my heart, my achey breaky heart..."

"DAMN IT apeloverage, I said not to sing that song - that's it, go and wait in the hearse."


(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 11:16, Reply)

Flat Tyres and Porn
Apart from the usual drinking and drug taking. I used to let down car tyres on a regular basis as a form of protest. Once doing it to about 20 cars in one car park. Didn't get away with that one though.

I also used to read porn newgroups from a very ealy age, getting into the classic head swap onto a porn stars body. When PCs where finally installed at school, I used to put faked pictures on the desktop, fortunatly I never got caught.
(RBF, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 11:06, Reply)

Catholic school
In primary school, I doodled inverted pentagrams a lot, in margins and on scrap paper, when other kids were doodling hearts and cartoon dogs.


Universally significant occult symbol, I just wanted to see if anybody would notice.


Everybody just thought they were pretty stars, including the teacher.
( Kittenpants, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 9:45, Reply)

Fashion accessories
I took to wearing a safety pin in my ear. There was nothing too exciting in that, though it amused me to keep count of how many times people would say "You have a safety pin in your ear".

One day in class or some similiarly quiet occasion the person sitting next to me leaned over and said in a stage whisper "Is that a pubic hair stuck in your safety pin?"

It was.

I was mildly embarrassed for at least 2.7 minutes.
(scuttlefish is drifting into the arena of the unwell, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 9:31, Reply)

Car running
When we were young me and a couple of friends used to run across the cars parked along the street. They were always parked bumper to bumper and we'd start at one end, run up the bonnet across the roof, over the boot then over the next car and so on until we got to the end. Great days. We've all got important jobs in the City now.
(kevon45uk, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 9:16, Reply)

Flame throwers on bmx as exhaust..
Yes... two cans of lynx, lighter.. looked just like flame thrower exhausts...
(The_artist_formally_known_as_alz0r, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 8:34, Reply)

I remember entering into the college battle of the bands with my ukulele...
I only fucking won.
( hexachordal la la la la la, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 6:46, Reply)

when I'm 50 or so
I intend to start rebelling against my children.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 5:28, Reply)

Corpse-building 101
I once decided to stage my own symbolic death and created a quite effective dead effigy of myself in the senior common-room complete with an arrow sticking out of the chest.
I had just finished my work when I realised that the nun who came round to check all the school windows and doors in the evening might be alarmed by finding a corpse in the semi-darkness. Not wanting to be responsible for causing stress to a nun, I made a blood-spattered sign for the door covered with smeared red handprints proclaiming "There is NO dead body in here."
Apart from me and the Window Nun, no one ever used the common room...it was a disused dining hall in a gloomy basement that even the school goths didn't much fancy. So this was Art in its truest, most pointless form.
(scuttlefish is drifting into the arena of the unwell, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 1:10, Reply)

I went through an awkward phase
of throwing myself down the stairs just to prove points.

The worst time was when I proved to my sister that I could bounce three times before I lay unconscious at the bottom of the stairs.

I didn't bounce three times. I bounced once and landed in a hospital bed.
( head-doctor ololololo, Sun 22 Jul 2007, 0:17, Reply)

Petition/Survey type thing
Let me start by telling you, without boasting, that I am really very intelligent. As you may know, in primary schools, the class only goes as quickly as the weakest mind can cope with.
This was hardly ideal for me, and after learning different ways of long multiplying FOR THE FOURTH BLOODY TIME, something inside me snapped.

Rather than become a nine year old drug addict, or going on a warpath destroying any reference to ridiculously basic arithmetic in my path, or somesuch, I acted well within the law, and, as is one of the many rights enjoyed by british citizens, I organised a petition. Basically, I went round at playtime and asked everyone to sign if they thought we should do more interesting things in maths, like maybe even, whisper it, algebra. Of course, many of them disagreed, and proceeded to take the piss out of me mercilessly (in hindsight, no more than I deserved), but because of my eloquent persuasiveness, all of them signed anyway.

Armed with the signatures of twenty or so pupils, I went to my teacher, duty-bound to tell him how rubbish his maths lessons were and could we have some better ones, please. Suffice to say, he went apopleptic. I cried. Maths lessons remained a joke. There's probably a moral in there somwhere (other than the obvious don't be a keen precocious little shit, I mean).
(WarneMarsh My priority for frivolity begets quality jollity, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 22:59, Reply)

Went thru a phase
of drinking Listerine whilst in the park; u could keep the white lightning pish! Did it as a joke to start with but sorta got a reputation for being DANGEROUS!, so had to carry on for a year or so wi the soddin Listerine... Fair plays, did get me absolutely off my face... n always had fresh breath for any poss sexual encounters... which never seemed to happen.. cant think why...
( SpankyHanky, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 22:48, Reply)

Naively thinking the phrase "To Lick Out" referred to French Kissing...
... tongues, you see... I nearly caused a fatal family car crash by bragging to my Dad, Mum, Brother, Sister and Grandma "that Mandy in Maths, I'd well lick her out."

One sudden screech of wheels, scream from Mum, Sis and Nana, burning smell from brakes and stunned silence later I was asked.

"What exactly do you mean by that?"

I was eleven years old. Twenty years later I realise fully what I'd said to them and no, we have never discussed the matter again.
(Error 404 - Username Unknown, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 22:34, Reply)

I once said "fuck off" to my Mum in a teen-strop argument.
She called my bluff and shouted back at me "if that's the way you want it, you fuck off!"

I ran to my room and cried, a lot and still feel a bit upset in my stomach thinking about the memory for this QOTW.

As a 31 year old now facing the prospect of fatherhood, the memory echoes through time.

In fact, I wish I'd never, ever said it.
(Error 404 - Username Unknown, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 22:21, Reply)

Poor dad
My teenage rebellion started when I woke up one day and decided that I would stop speaking to my dad. No reason for it at all. I just stopped talking to him. Didn't say a word to him. After 6 months of this he broke down one night, cried and tearfully asked 'what have I done to make you hate me so?'

So I just did what all teenagers would do and said 'dunno'.

We became great friends since then although one night, when I was 18, we were supping whiskey and listening to music, and got into an argument about biscuits. It escalated. He jabbed me in the chest. I hate being jabbed in the chest so I punched him. Knocked him down flat on hi arse. Shat myself and made for a getaway. Sadly the security conscious folks have a normal lock, a deadbolt and 3 other key locks on the door. I was trying to undo them to leg it when I heard a rumble behind me. I turned only to be greeted by the fleeting glance of my dad's fist twatting me on the nose. I went down this time, the nose broken.

He's one of my best mates now and I guess there's some oedipal or tribal explantion of sorts but yes, I made my dad cry for no reason and then punched a 53 year old out sparko because of biscuits.

Length? probably 5 hours community service if he'd prosecuted.
(spike starski, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 22:09, Reply)

Teenage drinking
Started when I was 13 when my best mate robbed a bottle of blue nun from his dad's garage - loved it! Couple of years of this kind of thing later, one saturday I quickly drank a 2l bottle of Icedragon - 8.5% cider of the tramp variety. Last thing I remember was throwing the empty (plastic) bottle at some innocent passers by. The rest is a haze but apparently we made it to the high street, where I ended up laying on the floor, barely conscious at times, throwing up, arguing with friends and generally being a complete twat.
Despite my friends best efforts to shift me from the area, the police showed up and I ended up pissing myself in the back of the car. Nice one! Stayed at the station for a while to 'sober up' while some officers visited my mother to let her know about her darling son's activities. Apparently, I was visited by a doctor at the station, who said that I must've been on drugs as well (i wasn't) and I vaguely recall trying to punch him for shining a light in my eye. Needless to say I recieved some shouting therapy in the morning from my mum, who was less than proud of me at that time. Took a couple of years for me to live that fucker down! Only 10 years later do I have the stomach for cider again (I know my limits now).
(jnewco81, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 20:19, Reply)

Rebelled
I went to private school and I did lots of drinking and falling down. A LOT.

However, when my Dad died (just before my GCSEs), I went off the rails. Quite a bit.

My drinking got to "Civil Service" level (that's wayyyyyyyy more than students, by the way - I know - I've been both) and I pushed against the school as hard as I could. I did, however, stop short of atually killing someone - but I did come close (allegedly).

The most annoying thing (and this flies in the face of this QOTW) was that my school teachers and the like didn't react nor were they shocked - they were horribly supportive and turned a blind eye a lot.

How annoying!

I'm better now. Really.

Um - Tangent?
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 19:38, Reply)

Rules are there to help control the fun...
Rebel? Me? I crave the pat on the head you get from behaving well. I LOVE authority. I’m the annoying Monica Geller-like girl in the class who’s the first to volunteer to organise the rota for cleaning out the class hamster cage.

But I wasn’t always like this. Oh no, somewhere deep in my past there was an enfant terrible, a little revolutionary giving two fingers to the system and sticking it to the man.

Or so I’d like to believe. What’s closer to the truth is…

I left school and had my nose pierced. It went septic. I looked like a twat.
I dyed my hair pink. The dye ran. I looked like a twat.
I cut all my hair off and peroxided what was left. I looked like a boy. And like a twat.
I started smoking. I now have the lung capacity of an 80 year old and was informed by my friend Stig that smoking made me “look like a twat”.
I had a drinking competition with my friend Claire that left me with a 3 day hangover and if I could remember I reckon I’d remember looking like a twat.

So I gave up. I went to Uni, got a good degree, a PhD, diligently worked towards furthering my career and being a responsible member of society.

Sadly, I still manage to look like a twat. Regularly.

Hey ho.
(Rakky (forgot her password) The muffin maverick, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 19:34, Reply)

Remembering this just made me cringe.
When I was about 17 me and the then fella ran out of rizlas at an ungodly hour, and after a fair time searching and failing, we started to ponder alternatives. Because we were so PUNK and HARDCORE, yo, we thought it would be a good idea to use torn out pages of the bible, and actively sought out the famous "and I give you all the seed bearing plants..." chapter.

It didn't stick together properly (gosh, thats a shock) and I spent a week after coughing up lung. But boy, we sure showed god.
( SugarSpunSister Yeah, whatever, Sat 21 Jul 2007, 16:46, Reply)