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» School Sports Day

I was one of those incredibly irritating pupils that not only did well academically, but was quite good at sports. Smug? Never. I got bullied for being good at both, so wasn't exactly a pleasant experience.

Anyway; in Secondary School we played the usual PE sports; netball, hockey (which I hated), gymnastics etc etc. But when Summer came, I was in my element. Athletics and Tennis. I'd managed to dedicate my Thursday evenings since the age of 11 to training for four hours with a tennis racket and yellow ball. I was one determined girl.

Cue 1998, aged 13 and I was training my little arse off for the county championships. It was very much like Wimbledon (aherm) in that sixteen entrants were seeded and sixteen were not. Having won many of my qualifying matches to establish these seedings, I was confident I would be somewhere near the top, if only for the sake of my pride and hours I'd spent hammering a tennis ball about.

Oh no. My bastard PE Teacher who had a daughter and son in the same year as me decided, unfairly, to place them above me simply for the sake of family connections or some bollocks. So there I was, on the commencing week of the championship with my cute little tennis outfit waiting to be selected and finding out I'd been ROBBED.

Cue first match. My anger was evident, I hit fourteen aces in that match. I saw my PE Teacher of extreme arseholeness strolling over looking smug.

Next thing I knew, I hit a 60 (or thereabouts) mph serve straight into his head. His face was a picture in more ways than one, and as he was dragged off the court for "profanities" I felt immensely pleased (and ever so slightly scared of his wrath).


I won the championship beating his daughter in straight sets, and very clearly never let my PE Teacher forget it.
(Sat 1st Apr 2006, 13:38, More)

» Teenage Parties

I was 17, but had a couple of friends who were in the year below and were celebrating the end of school year. Great, I think. I'd never really experienced much drinking at this point nor was I particularly fussed, but I thought that night "Lets get fucked". Some friend of a friend was hosting a big-ass party in her very lavish house.

At the time my best friend had just split up with her boyfriend, who prior to being with her, was my boyfriend. First rule really, never date the same guy. Anyhow, she was pretty messed up after this and proceeded to drink an entire bottle of vodka, washed down with copious amounts of "haribo" and a few joints for good measure.

I, on the other hand, had consumed a few beers and was nicely merry. Until I drunk the punch, laced with several bottles of Archers. I cannot drink that without feeling ill now. Anyhow, I ended up copping off with my ex boyfriend, who then vomitting down my top as I realised he was too, very drunk. My best friend found us locking lips and threatened to kill me with a vodka bottle, then blew chunks all down my new jeans. Ex boyfriend vaults a gate but misses, lands legs either side of it and promptly chucks up in shock. On my jeans. Friend then shags ex boyfriends best friend (this is where it gets hazy) in a tent and throws up in a pillow case, which is then used to sleep on later on.

I only lived down the road, so coated in puke (but not my own) I walked home, had a shower and promised never to drink alcohol again. Ha.

I lost my beret that night too.
(Mon 17th Apr 2006, 17:28, More)

» Your Weirdest Teacher

The man with the string in his pants.
When I was at college before the world of medicine, I studied Psychology with a rather eccentric teacher who looked like he needed to apply some of those well taught skills to himself.

He was a very decent chap. Always smelt of whiskey and wore clothes that clearly hadn't been washed this side of the Millenium. We forgave him for the stench.

What we didn't forgive him for was one lesson when he was clearly inebriated, he decided to stand on a table to rejoice in the works of Freud. This scared us as we thought he was a kiddy fiddler (Freud, that is) and knowing the chap had some children of his own, the numbers for the NSPCA came out quietly. When he started talking about trying studies on his own children and bringing them in for us to study and condition to be better behaved, we started to think about backing out slowly and running for our lives (we were only 16-17 ourselves).

It got worse.

In need of some clothes, some food and a session with an AA counsellor for his drink problem, he'd obviously forgotten to wear his "belt" that day. To clarify, this belt wasn't the normal, sturdy item we think of fondly to avoid an embarrassing show of our undercarriage. Oh no. His "belt" was very simply made out of household string. The kind that cats chase, you know? Yeah. String. Tied at the top of his groin and much to our fear, easy enough to "snap".

So, whilst proclaiming to whoever it was that he felt needed to hear, his did a little Scottish jig (might be worth mentioning that he was a Scot too) and holy shit - There goes his manky trousers. If that wasn't bad enough, and believe me it was, but the poor guy obviously didn't have any "pants". So whilst he was talking to us about the sexual conditioning of Freud, ironically he just shown us his todger.

It was talking about many a times down the pub, in particular the girl who fainted - we never worked out whether it was through disgust or lust.
(Wed 16th Nov 2005, 11:22, More)

» Your Weirdest Teacher

I have another. No apologies.

When I was at secondary school, it was complusory to do Religous Studies however much the class turned into rather frank discussions about sex, drugs and all other "naughty" things. In fact, I cannot recall a single lesson when it didn't feature something "taboo" for the rest of the teachers. In essence, this teacher (name I've forgotten, conveniently) was pretty cool. She was young, cute but had a temper that scared the shit out of me. If you got on the wrong side of her, hell you knew about it. One day she caught me writing a note to my then boyfriend and read it out in class. Thankfully I was only 14 so nothing too rude.

Anyhow, we had no idea she was a lesbian (not that it mattered of course). It was only a couple months after she joined that when we appeared for our RE class and looking forward to it after double maths (all we did was eat food and talk shit) we were confronted by the headmistress, who quietly told us (which I realised was her way of being very ashamed) that said teacher was suspended for six months.

We wondered whether it was her "urban" teaching and the fact we did fuck all during the lessons, but a couple of the students I had class with managed to find out (I've never worked out how) that she had been arrested for harrassment. Many a rumour floated round about her belting another teacher who came to school with a hefty bruise one day but it transpired that at the same time we found out she liked girls, she had been verbally abusing a woman who was the other party in her girlfriends affair. In the end it came out she had gone over to the house and tipped paint over her car, posted cat shit through her letterbox and printed "escort" cards with this woman's number on.

She came back after six months with a criminal record but continued to teach until my brother left school. After we found out the above, we were all pretty scared of her, but thought it was pretty cool.
(Wed 16th Nov 2005, 11:53, More)

» The Police

Drink Driving?
My first post from a long time lurker, so go easy.

Me and a couple of other medical students were travelling back from our annual Christmas Ball in 2003. The event itself finished fairly early so we decided to buy a bottle of absurdly expensive plonk and drink it when we got home. Unfortunately for the rather more zealous of the passengers, they cracked it open and started having swigs from the glasses they had nicked from the Hilton earlier. As we approached a rounderbout in the centre of Norwich, and stopping at traffic lights, my friend decided to get a comedy picture and shoved a glass full of red wine into the hand of the driver.

Cue the photo opportunity, and as we laughed, I looked to the left and shock horror, there are a couple of PC Plods staring at us rather menacingly, waiting for us to speed off into the night so they could chase us down. Bricking shits by now, our 18 year old selves realised our Medical career would surely be over if we were caught "drink" driving (although the driver himself wasn't, obviously). They wound the window down, and we felt our dinners make an unwelcome appearance in our throats as one of them leant over....

"Have a good evening guys, and make sure you drink plenty of water before you go to bed"

We nearly pissed ourselves with laughter and relief.

(apologises for the length)
(Wed 28th Sep 2005, 11:42, More)
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