Choices choices
Could it be the maths teacher we dubbed the Lofty Throbbing Norseman?

Could it be the senior teacher who was caught giving one to a parent in a cupboard?

Could it be the foul-smelling, bearded French dwarf who bullied me solid for four years? He told the class liked to "go cahravenning in his wagone down to the bitch" (I think he meant beach) and then had the gall to slag off *my* pronunciation? (Incidentally he gave one girl 100% in her Higher Oral. Draw your own conclusions.)

Perhaps it might be C-c-c-c-c-c-c-orky the physics teacher who placed one pupil in front of a radiation source? "But won't that make me sterile?" asked the victim. Came the response: "In your c-c-c-case, Andrew, it won't be a p-p-p-problem."

The RE teacher who was far too nice to be a teacher and shared with a baying class of adolescents that she had lesbian tendencies.

Or how about Titless, Horsey, Sly Mac, Droopy or Harry the Bastard (who was a top bloke, ironically)? Or the old chap who wandered into class with his old chap hanging out (he retired after that)?

No, I think it has to be Kaboobie (not his real name) a middle-aged gentleman with a massive combover who lived with his mother and bred tortoises.

(Intriguingly the only decent teachers at my school were gay or impossibly bitter or both.)

I could apologise for length but instead I'll tell you that private education is a waste of money: official.
( calgacus Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae, Wed 9 Nov 2005, 15:54, Reply)