where to begin...
finally a QOTW i actually have something worth contributing, though i suppose it hasn't stopped people before....

anyway initials were correct as at the time they were my teacher.

Mr B. in primary school. out and out crazy. he had several imaginery friends that he used as an example of how we were supposed to behave. one kid was given a fortnight of detention for telling Augustus Gloop where to go. he also played the Mandolin at random intervals during the day.

Mr. B number 2. also in Primary school, used to wobble his head continuously while speaking. make a figure 8 on a horizontal plane with youe chin, now you've got the idea. stopped the instance his voice did though.

Miss L. in year 10 high school. posed for the local version of Penthouse, different name of course, but it was her, she told us. even signed some copies, though why anyone would buy a signed soiled magazine is beyond me. seemed like a good idea at the time. alledgedly got together with a few boys after graduation.

Miss C. who became Mrs R. was my replacement homeroom teacher in final year high-school, was absolutely gorgeous and straight out of university. not so much weird behaviour on her part, but someone was insane to put a stunning 21/22 year old teacher in charge of a room half full of randy 17 year old boys.
found out later that Mr R. was quite a fan of domestic violence. hope she found someone worthy since.

Miss S. 50/60 year old spinster who was always horny apparently, ugly as the ugliest woman you've ever seen... in spandex. camel toes were common, though this was before they had a name, and had the tendency to wear see through shirts, so we all got a glimpse of her nipples with her naval between them, if she stood up. was fired recently for wearing a miniskirt and re-enacting that Basic Instinct move. i'm glad i wasn't in that class. you could tell where she'd been sitting from her snail-trails.

Mr Y, who was a Phys.Ed. teacher old as time itself. used to teach my father, and i apparently bear some resemblance since he continually called me by my father's name. i went along with it after a year or so.

Mr R. who looked like Obelix from the Asterix comics. had a flatulence problem and continual knob-rot. used to stand with one leg on a chair all dramatic-like, let one rip and scratch his nads. i'm thankful he also seated us alphabetically so i was at the rear of the room.

Mr F. called the looney leprechaun on account of him being Irish, and a complete nutter. taught a class that required field trips, more often than not, to the bush. he'd wander off on his own, dig a few holes, shout enthusiastically at the few people who followed him in some language heavily disguised by the thickest Irish accent you've ever heard, which only got thicker as he got more excited before running off into the undergrowth to dig another hole. got tired after a few trips so we dug holes closer to the bus.

i would close with a badly disguised penis joke or some mention of lost virginity, but i'm sure they've all been said before.
(mikewicked, Tue 15 Nov 2005, 14:44, Reply)