Terrible ParentingMy parents used to lock my brother, sister and I in the car while they went to the pub for a "quick one" after work. This quick one might last several hours, during which they would send bottles of Indian Tonic Water to us by way of refreshment.
On one particularly cold evening, bored stupid, we lit a small bonfire on the back seat of the car using the cigarette lighter and the contents of the glove box. We owe our lives to passing winos. (BTW: Please no more Maddie or Jesus gags, they've been done.)
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Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 16 Aug 2007, 9:47)
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Dave Likes Cheese reminded me of these.(Hey, that rhymes!)My dad is a lot more tolerant now but in the past he was…shall we say…a ‘tad’ racist. (1)
I was 6 years old…Our school informs the ‘rents that they have arranged an ‘exchange visit’ with a local school filled with predominantly Indian and Pakistani kids. The idea was simple, they come to us for the day, then we go to them for the day, we play together, eat each other’s different foods (for us Dahl(?), for them fish fingers), and have a few lessons sharing culture and basically breaking down some barriers and coming to the conclusion that we’re all not so different really. (I’m going to start singing ‘We are the world’ again)
My dad finds out…and storms the school.
Dad: “I’m not having my son go to some fucking wog school”
Headmistress (HM): “Please Mr Oldfartflake, the whole school is participating. Every single person. It will help bridge the cultural…..”
Dad: “Not the whole school…The whole school except my fucking son, which, unless you didn’t hear me the first time, is NOT GOING TO A FUCKING WOG SCHOOL”
HM: “Could you please let me know exactly why you are so adamant?”
Dad: “I don’t have to explain myself to you…but I don’t want them wogs fucking my kid up”
HM: “I completely understand, Mr OldfartFlake. Pooflake will not go.”
Apparently, the Headmistress also told my dad: “Mr OldfartFlake, I agree with you. You are NOT a racist.”
Mmmmf? What in God’s bollockcheese was she thinking (or reading earlier posts about teachers, perhaps smoking?)
I spent 4 days of the year completely segregated from the rest of the school in a military style operation that led to me not making contact with anyone other than white folk.
What the teachers thought of me or my dad was anybody’s guess. Unless they felt the same way of course.
And think of me what you will...but I actually got to try some Dahl...and I thought it tasted cocking rank. In fact, exactly what I'd imagine diarrhoea would taste like. EEuuuwww
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Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Mon 20 Aug 2007, 15:52,
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