Bonkers Billy Blackman
We had this RE teacher called Billy Blackman, The staunch Welsh Rugby supporter, constantly had cotton wool in his ears and at the end of every term used to show us videos of the hayday of welsh rugby in the 70's with the likes of Barry John, JPR Williams etc. I think that video was playing all day everyday in the final week of term! I do now feel that he did me a favour ( or maybe the videos had some kind of subliminal messages in them?) as I'm now engaged to a welsh girl, live in wales and can actually discuss these games with everyone.....apparently my knowledge of the golden era has made me an honourary welshman! cheers Billy! funny old world!
(Quirkyboy, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 10:25, Reply)

Infant school, class of 1986,
there was this horrible dragon bitch with a face like a bulldog licking piss off a thistle, who'd obviously gleaned her lipstick application technique from Pennywise The Clown's Guide To Looking Fucking Terrifying And Making Small Children Poo And Cry At The Same Time (Faber & Faber, £12.99). She was thick as the contents of her putrid gusset, too - it was a well-known fact that you HAD to spell cetrain words her way ('dinasaur' and 'hellicopter' were two that particularly stuck in MY mind, having been dragged to the front of the class to receive bollockings of truly hellacious proportions for displaying the rank temerity to hand in pieces of homework containing the clearly laughable 'dinosaur' and 'helicopter' respectively). She loved making kids soil their underwear - she'd deliberately and maliciously not let you go to the toilet until you were literally doubled over on the storytime carpet, foaming at the mouth and sobbing gasped pleas through clenched milk teeth. She kept the toilet roll in her desk drawer, and you had to ask for 'one piece or two' in front of the whole class when you needed to go - obviously if you EVER asked for two, you got seven shades of shit kicked out of you in the playground for being a 'poo boy', so you had to make do with one even if you were planning on blasting out a pint of fizzy gravy the second your cheeks touched the seat (which, given that they stored our breaktime 'milk' [it was actually a particularly aqueous variety of cheese, I'm convinced] on a throbbing metal strip heater, wasn't that unusual). Finally, and worst of all, her favourtie phrase was "You're for the high jump now, lad!", upon which she'd march you into the stock cupboard where there was an ACTUAL high jump she'd made herself out of two piles of Peak Maths textbooks and a length of garden cane. You had to jump over it without knocking it off or moving the books, otherwise she made it higher. You all remember how small those stock cupboards were, I trust - suffice to say, it was basically fucking impossible, and she'd just stand there grinning whilst applying more scarlet facepaste to her stumpy yellow teeth and scratching her fetid mimsy through her vomitous pink wool two-piece.

On the upside, she always did make a proper nice Sunday roast, and was always fairly forthcoming with the odd fiver on Saturdays. Mum, all is forgiven. :)
( grey kid is breakdancing to save a community centre, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 10:24, Reply)

The God Squad
We had a very odd teacher who went by the name of Miss Cunningham. She had bulging eyes so was given the inventive nickname froggy. She once sent someone out of the class for blaspheming. Had I attended school in 1796 this would have been acceptable. However, I attended in the politically correct 1990s, so it wasn't.

We also had a male music teacher who used to wear rather attractive strappy leather sandals. We called them his Adidas Bethlehems.

I would like to point out that despite appearances to the contrary, I went to a non-demoninational school.
(tallulah kittiwake, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 10:20, Reply)

R.E. Teachers (religious education just in case)
My R.E. teachers were a mixed lot - the head of R.E. was a reverend who used to Fire and Brimstone his lessons - his reputataion consisted of kicking pupils down the stairs if they went "up" the "down" stairs (stupid one way system) and punching heathens.

Mr Ward wasn't wierd by very funny - he used to rub out the dots on the clock at the start of schools programs with his finger and then wind the credits with an invisible handle on the side of the tv. any questions made to pupils were addressed via a board rubber "microphone" and he lived next door to class spanner Roger Rumsey and used to mock his stench by claiming the Estee Lauder were working on a "Esu de Rumsay" as it drives the ladies wild.

The other RE teacher thought he would be funny too, but wasnt and then grew a fully fledged moses beard so he could be mocked further.

/edit - also remembered a very clever physics teacher who decided to pander to one pupils weekly request to burn something. He set him up with a bunsen burner, tongs and a stop watch, and left him for an hour and half trying to time how long it takes to set light to cotton wool*

*replace cotton wool with Rockwall insulation of the fire proof kind
(mrpaulo shaving the world, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 10:13, Reply)

half turn symmetry
Mr Kinsella used to demonstrate half turn symmetry by asking one of the smaller girls to stand with her arms and legs out and then he would turn her through 180 degrees so her head was dangling towards the floor. The sad tosser, it wasn’t even a correct demo mathematically speaking.
(lawlam, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 9:52, Reply)

Oh, so many!
Let's see now, we had:

Mr "Tosser" Taylor, physics. Good teacher but he was the spitting image of Yoffy (sp) from Fingerbobs. Played the banjo. In class.

Mr "Jim Skull" Currie, chemistry. Another good teacher, but with a predilection for explosions. He used to get us all to sit round the benches at the edge of the classroom, with the windows open, and set off balloons full of hydrogen/oxygen mixtures. The resulting explosions used to get all of the teachers down the corridor looking out of their classrooms wondering what the hell the bang was.

Mr Henderson, French. Lecherous, tall, dark, late 30s when I was taught by him, who later married one of his pupils (who of course was about 25 years his junior) once she left the school. As far as I know, they're still together. Dirty, filthy, lucky bastard.

Mr E Sharp, music. Nothing remarkable, just a good name for a music teacher.

Mr "Bamber Gascoigne" McLachlan, maths. Once went out of his classroom for a bit, whereupon student horseplay resulted in one bloke being shut in the cupboard. "Hey lads, there's porn in here!" he shouted. Of course, no-one believed him, thinking it was just a ruse to get out of the cupboard. But he shoved several examples out under the door, so he was released and said porn was spread all over Bamber's desk, and the class returned to a state of impeccable behaviour awaiting his return. To his credit, Bamber merely placed his briefcase on the desk on his return, and got on with the lesson. But I think there was some official reprimand later on.

And finally:

Mr Innes, maths. Known as FBI (Fat Bob Innes). Completely eccentric. Used to intersperse his lessons with anecdotes about how when he died he would add himself to the food chain, as his ashes from cremation would drift over to the nearby hill, and be deposited by rainfall onto the grass, which would then be eaten by sheep, which in turn would end up on our dinner plates. In fact. if he's dead by now, I may indeed have eaten part of him! Perish the thought. He also had one of my mates, Steve, sprinting up the middle of the classroom, when he was teaching him to run properly. I would have thought this would be a job for a PE teacher rather than an ageing, overweight mathematician, but there you are.

More later, if I think of some.

I have not changed any names to protect the innocent. Because they weren't innocent.
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 9:35, Reply)

nutter teacher
Christ! where to start. We had a primary school teacher who was certifiable. Mr Saunders, never seen without his shit brown snorkel parka and Woolworth’s bag looking like your classic fiddler, 40 odd still lived with his mum. Seemed to genuinely believe terrorising 10-year-old kids was somehow both big and indeed clever. Odd/pervy behaviour included peering at the tower block opposite telling a class of 10 year olds he could see old ladies getting undressed (always old ladies). Making all the boys do gym bare-chested and running up behind them to slap their backs at any provocation then make excited comments at the resulting hand shaped angry red welt. Intensely camp failings playing tennis (with himself against a wall) at lunchtimes, resplendent in baggy tennis whites. WOEFULL singing and guitar playing. He had one of those little collapsible footstools and would imitate bob Dylan (badly) and get all lost in the music in front of a bemused class. Obsessing over HMS Pinafore. Sending almost every boy in the class to the same child psychologist (worried/incredulous mothers all found out through chatting). Regular beltings - Scotland had belting of the hands with heavy leather strap until the mid eighties.

A few years back I was working at a world heritage site where lo-and-behold Saunders turns up barking orders at a bus load of depressed looking 10 year olds - still in shit brown parka and ginger sideburns. Initially I was set to nip out and twat him one until I remembered I had got access to his full name once (he stupidly signed a school fire extinguisher during a routine check). So I strolled down and quietly told the first kid I encountered – a wave of laughter spread among them then one calls out JASPER BERTRUM SAUNDERS ya fanny!
( spimf ™ is whoever you want him to be, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 9:34, Reply)

Doc Jock
We had an amazing teacher at our school who taught physics. His name was Dr Johnstone and he was a legend.

He would allow us to skive classes, I frequently gave him hash (frequently being twice). His nemesis of a teacher lived in the room next door, and he once had a punch up with him. He often told us of the time he had a theory about atoms while on acid that he was going to present to the Nobel prize people.

Legend.
(Lannes, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 9:28, Reply)

further deviant teachers
I had an other worth a mention, a blond middle aged female biology teacher, who was from somewhere scandic.

Now this was in the days before I knew the word MILF but looking back...I soo would have...

Anyway she was taking our class [WOW there is a thought] and somehow we got on to the subject of lisps. After 5 minutes she said that one trick to correct a specific lisp her son had was to lick a plate [!] which she proceeded to mime.

To say she looked like she was licking out a fellow scandic beauty [pos. about 22 years old] would be an understatement. Well, that was the concensus of opinion once class had finished and our hard ons had subsided.

I reckon even the girls got a bit damp!
( Fire & Forget it's the only way to be sure, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 9:05, Reply)

A few teachers
in my high school, music and RE departments had a MASSIVE staff turnover, I mean to the extent they were financial liabillities, they eventually just stopped replacing the teachers and we'd get a lot of lessons off, and the occasional harrassed substitute.

This is because most of them ran away crying, however one particular guy stood out.

Guy called "Bernard", Blackest guy I ever saw, made us refer to him by his christian name, which I suppose passes for "friendly" among substitute teachers. He had a thick, nigh on inpenetrable african accent, and mostly taught us to sing hymns to Jesus, notible moments are telling a girl the Devil was inside her when she told a wee fib, and getting fired for throwing athiests and muslims from his lessons, just for not accepting Jesus Christ.

There was also a french teacher who assured us she wasn't japanese, but we didn't believe her, because she just looked and sounded japanese.

She gave merit stickers out pretty darn willy nilly, I remember knocking two desks over as makeshift fortifications, and throwing pens at each other over and to the side of them, then after she strolled over, just casually telling us to get on with our work, giving us all merit stickers for doing ten minute's work of the hour.

Mr. Weekes was a legend, every morning he'd be greeted by all the lights in his room switched off, a mountain constructed out of chairs and everyone hiding, this was set one. Also, there were a number of memes in that class, most notably, a big eared kid with the thickest accent in the class (Liverpool) used to say "bang on" a lot for things that were unfair, (rather than correct, weird)

Upon which, one person would inevitably bellow "BANG ON!" and everyone would do a LOUD drum solo on the desks,

Also, an owl apparently lived up helen hallman's arse, and could be coaxed out with owl noises in the darkened classroom, she'd be greeted to that hand owl noise thing every morning.

Also, some guy had the worst spray tag imaginable, it was just basically the word "mesmer", written. that became the buzzword of the class, he was Mesmer, things were Mesmer-tastic, slightly-deaf teachers would be goaded with loud bellows of "Mesmer"

Also, there was a canadian lad by the name of John Morgan Stuart

His name had the same number of beats as the canadian national anthem, so every day he'd be greeted by the whole class singing the song of his native homeland, with his name interjected, thus...

"Jooohn Morgan Johnmorgan Stuuuuuuart"

Often accompanied by the whole class linking arms and waving lighters.

Upon hearing these memes, Weeksy, as he was referred to, would try to calm the class down by saying something to the effect of "alwight layds, pack i' in naw," to which people would imitate his speech doing dick van dyke legs.

Strangely, Weeksy never tired of it! This is why mr Weekes whould win one of those awards for extraordinary teachers, not some special ed teacher who works in deepest bloody peru teaching arithmetic to impoverashed, limbless infants and diffusing landmines by hand. Anyone who wouldn't be driven mad like so many music and RE teachers by our school, instead taking it all in good humour, deserves a gold medal.

If you had filmed our lessons, they'd pass for an episode of Shooting Stars. Or the next Rocky Horror Show it was great.
(Slyph, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 9:04, Reply)

My woodwork teacher
...was called Mr Mallet.
( beefandcheese, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 8:57, Reply)

I've already posted about my weirdest teacher somewhere else:
www.playgroundlaw.com/cgi-bin/browse.pl?sid=4227
( gronkpan https://twitter.com/VomitingLarry, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 8:46, Reply)

Mad English Teacher
One of those ones who teaches you everything ... except what's on the curriculum. Needless to say we loved him! He'd sit in long billowing robes, covered in chalk. When he lit a fire during the winter months, the robes would start to smoke as he wrote on the blackboard above it.

Once, he threw himself down a flight of concrete steps just to see if it would hurt. He got up, went "Phew! That was an experience!" and walked off, not noticing that his arm was broken.

Another time, he walked from Norfolk to Derbyshire, sleeping in ditches because he wanted to experience life as a tramp.

Oh yes, and when he awoke from a coma after a road accident, his first concern was that he had forgot all of his Anglo-Saxon.

What a guy. Love him!
Ginger Hobbit
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
(Ginger Hobbit, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 8:42, Reply)

Zoolurker
I'll see your crazy cat lady and raise you the fact that this guy may have looked like Hans Moleman, but his voice was a dead ringer for the comic book guy. Don't know how I forgot to add that.
(racetraitor has an alibi for, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 7:12, Reply)

Never could last.
In High School, my class went through 3 class tutors in three years. All PE teachers. The first one, Mr Templeton, was cool, a real laugh and he gave us Mars bars. The last one, Mr Stevenson, was alright too. Again, he could have a laugh.

The middle one was Mr Clark. A strange ginger fellow he was, and when he was angry he'd clench his fists and lean on the table. Except when he did this, he was the spitting image of Donkey Kong. Needless to say I struggled to hold back my childish giggles as he turned redder and redder :-D
(MrBeansHoliday, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 7:04, Reply)

teacher torture
Our highschool music teature had a nervous break down. The students smelt his weakness from day one, like a pack of wolves. He bounces in all young and keen to please spouting some some bollocks about mutual respect. We ignore him, talk, eat, run around the place, throw rubbish at him and finally lock him out of his own class room.

oh and an Indian english teacher who used to say "you are all a bunch of giddy goats". Try it with a delih accent.
(rattus, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 6:40, Reply)

crazy art teacher
we have an art teacher who is absolutely mental.
she asks us to stand up in the middle of the lesson for no apparent reason
last week she brought in some sunflowers for us to draw. thats allright but they were completely wilted and mouldy and, when she put them in the bin (eventualy) they looked like giant triffids.
had nightmares for weeks
(General Arfarfarnarf He who hesitates, Masturbates!, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 6:22, Reply)

Does a funny name count?
I had a chemistry teacher whose husbands name is Phil McCracken...nuff said
(spike spiegel, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 5:02, Reply)

Well... She was a nun. Enough said.
We had a teacher in about, oh, first grade or so, who was quite literally a holy terror.
Take the oldest, wrinkliest old woman you've ever met. Make her rediculously well scrubbed and tidy.
Now, put her in a stupid looking dress.
There. I'll call her Ms. Wimple. Because I'm a geek.
Ms. Wimple, a former nun, taught us all- literally, ALL, even the non-Catholic ones, even the one Jewish boy (*), to pray. In Latin. And French. First grade, remember. About 10 prayers. AND PSALMS.
She would also make you sit with your hands in your desk, if you had one with a lift-up lid, if you misbehaved, which left painful marks from whatever you had on your desk, because there were sharp metal edges. And as if that wasn't bad enough, her definition of 'misbehaved' was NOT memorizing one of the 10 prayers/psalms/religious chants. And, by the end of the day in a classroom full of children, she was about as intelligible as Crazy Cat Lady from the Simpsons. (I see your Moleman and raise you a wandering vagrant. ) So... we ended up with minor permanent scarring both mental and physical.
But I still know the Pater Noster. In German.

(* We went to a rather lax Catholic school, by the way. They were trying to escape the whole 'rulers, schoolgirls, gym class' deal and failing miserably. And they made us wear grey, blue and mustard yellow skirts. Demons. DEMONS, I say. And that's why I'm not Catholic. (**)
(** No offense to Catholics... though I doubt you're on b3ta. Which would be kind of creepy. )

Apologies for length, girth, energy, acceleration and mass.
(ZooLurker is an angry chick with a mullet!, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 3:49, Reply)

First one...
I can't remember my grade 12 math teacher's name, but he looked like Hans Moleman from the Simpsons so I'll call him that.

Mr Moleman was a short, fat man who smelled always like broccoli or some vegetable and had a thick layer of nicotine stains on his hands. He was blindly obsessed with math, and would often tell us to forget our other classes and concentrate on conics or whatever other crazy crap we were learning.

One day I was laughing at his reverence of math and suggested that we should all have numerical names.

He immediately replied, "D5," shutting me up.

D5? It turned out I was in the fourth row from the door, which could be considered row D, and I sat fifth from the front. So all along, he had mathematical names for us.

Incidentally, D4 was a cutie, and I went through all of grades 11 and 12 without ever noticing that she seemed to like me.
(racetraitor has an alibi for, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 3:17, Reply)

Ah yes...
Science teachers are usually the weirdest.

One in particular would get extremely excited about moss reproduction, and when talking about it she would get on top of an unsuspecting student's desk and scream: SEX!!!! and then proceed to howl like a wolf.
When she'd teach us geology, she'd get out all these random rocks for us to identify. Well one of us accidentally dropped one, cracking it. The woman burst into tears, sobbing for her poor rock.
She also kicked her shoes off her feet at people. Hit one of my friends in the face.
She was a bitch.

Oh and a teacher that had taught at our school for years and was loved by everyone had raped one of my friends last year. Both male. :(
(Babbeyroad, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 2:38, Reply)

I am a cunt
only a few schools have a cunt like this

"This guy shouldn't have been a teacher, he should have been a comedian. Absolute legend, he wasted more than half of any given lesson making everyone roll around laughing and still most of his students got As (even I did).

He was a natural predator, and within his first hour with a class would have picked out four or five students he could turn into the butt of his jokes for the next year. There was Gibbons (the kids surname), who had a rather big head and was subjected to Burnsy dancing around singing "do do do the funky gibbon" and saying "mr gibbons knows everything because it all fits so well into his exceedingly large head". He also decided another (pretty ugly) kid looked like an alien, and frequently offered praise to "the all-powerful alien invaders".

He also used to tell us stories of his days as a medical student, including the time he beat up a load of druggies "they didn't notice, they were too busy going "WHEEEEE!"" (note: he danced around at this point to emphasise how far gone they were), and how some he knew had found a man dead with a broomstick so far up his rectum that it had snapped his spine.

Finally, he is responsible for the game "spoon!", possibly the best way of getting a large group of students to revise anything. Essentially, everyone is lined up against a wall. Burnsy asks a question, and the first to stick their hand up with the correct answer gets to sit down. This is repeated until there is only one left standing, the dunce who couldn't get ANYTHING right. This abomination to intelligence is then made to stand on a chair, while the rest of the class gathers round, pointing and jeering, and everyone shouts "SPOOOOOOOOOOON!" at said thicko at the top of their voice."

would you like to offer any more butt-fucking crap?

teacher! teacher! listen to my plummy voice!

it's the sound of YOUR plums slapping MY throat

"most of his students got As (even I did)."

was that due to him dancing and singing 'WEEE' while laughing at 'druggies' while recanting stories of his days as medicine man?

WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK 'DRUGS' ARE?

WHICH SECTION OF SOCIETY DO YOU THINK ARE THE LARGEST CONSUMERS OF CLASS A DRUGS?

TWUNT

weepingside

brainstemdamagecore
(globalloon, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 2:21, Reply)

teach me nothing
hasn't 'law of the playground' already done this (only better)?

sorry
(globalloon, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 2:14, Reply)

Muz the humanities teacher
Not weird at all, I guess. Quite a dude. Any time he won big on the dogs, he'd buy us all beers and teach us drinking games. Then take one of the girls home with him... Got 4 girls pregnant during my time there, one of them twice. Then another girl 2 years after I left that led to him being fired.

As for weird teachers, there was the one who towards the beginning of every lesson would accuse some poor grot of farting and kick them out of the classroom.
(Demonic, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 1:44, Reply)

Passive agressive chemistry
Mr Powell, our Chemistry teacher, who knew better than to let us do any of the more dangerous practicals (chlorine, explosives etc), so would demo them for the class. Only odd thing is that he would erect the safety screen around his table so that HE was protected and all of us would be exposed.... hmmmm.
(lonerwolf, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 1:39, Reply)

actually, my art teacher.
Mr. Davis. Average height, skinny black man with a medium-size afro. He was really mellow and soft-spoken. Through the first half of class, he'd be completely oblivious to anyone other to himself, sitting at his desk and twiddling his thumbs and eating sweets, while my fellow pupils chatted and dealt the occasional drug.
All of a sudden he would calmly get out of his seat, talk to us about completely unrelated things, like the planet Mars, which would lead him to ramble on about space exploration, conspiracy theories, and how terrible September 11 was, until he just sort of trailed off.
Then he would take random things off of his shelves and arrange them creatively on a random person's desk and tell us to draw it. And back he would go to his desk to continue thumb-twiddling and sweet-eating.
And so on, every single day.
( trintrin has jam for blood, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 0:49, Reply)

Mr. Williams
Our english teacher couldnt control our class very well, due to the ammount of "cool" chavs who liked to make his life hell. so one day of not being able to take the register due to talking, he yells "right thats the last straw... blah blah blah, your all yobs, you can burn in hell for all i care! balls to your GCSEs " stands up and marches out of the room.
to have to return 2 mins later after realising he left his bag, and on leaving says "you can still all burn in hell" and slams the door.
left us all speach less really. And he never returned
(Haggard, Thu 10 Nov 2005, 0:07, Reply)

ninja nutter and latin humper
my first english teacher at secondary school was actually fairly normal, apart from she used to show us a bruce lee film once a term. that and she claimed to have a sword in her bag, and if we ever touched it she would have to cut our hands off. (un)fortunately we never got to confirm this story as she never left us in the room with the bag.

also our latin teacher was a grade a mentalist, though he didn't always show it. as well as latin he also taught pse or whatever it was called then, and once when trying to explain to us about how a platonic relationship might develop into a sexual one, used the desk as his example 'partner'. "see, at the moment the desk and i are just going out, but one day we might decide to take it a step further and have sex" and then proceeded to hump the desk in front of a class of thirty-odd twelve year olds. oh, and he used to let use bring sweets into class once a month and just sit around and talk. but as soon as the headmaster walked down the patch towards the building we had to shout "sum es est, sumus estis sunt" at the top of our voices to make it look like we were learning something. the fact that we kept chanting exactly the same thing for three years didn't seem to bother the headmaster.
(steveeeee, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 23:50, Reply)

Story 2, Mr Burns
This guy shouldn't have been a teacher, he should have been a comedian. Absolute legend, he wasted more than half of any given lesson making everyone roll around laughing and still most of his students got As (even I did).

He was a natural predator, and within his first hour with a class would have picked out four or five students he could turn into the butt of his jokes for the next year. There was Gibbons (the kids surname), who had a rather big head and was subjected to Burnsy dancing around singing "do do do the funky gibbon" and saying "mr gibbons knows everything because it all fits so well into his exceedingly large head". He also decided another (pretty ugly) kid looked like an alien, and frequently offered praise to "the all-powerful alien invaders".

He also used to tell us stories of his days as a medical student, including the time he beat up a load of druggies "they didn't notice, they were too busy going "WHEEEEE!"" (note: he danced around at this point to emphasise how far gone they were), and how some he knew had found a man dead with a broomstick so far up his rectum that it had snapped his spine.

Finally, he is responsible for the game "spoon!", possibly the best way of getting a large group of students to revise anything. Essentially, everyone is lined up against a wall. Burnsy asks a question, and the first to stick their hand up with the correct answer gets to sit down. This is repeated until there is only one left standing, the dunce who couldn't get ANYTHING right. This abomination to intelligence is then made to stand on a chair, while the rest of the class gathers round, pointing and jeering, and everyone shouts "SPOOOOOOOOOOON!" at said thicko at the top of their voice.
( Noit happy baby orangutan, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 23:50, Reply)