b3ta.com user The Lone Groover
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» Kids say the shittiest things

A Degree of Intelligence
Back in the dim and distant, I was undertaking the final dissertation for an Advanced Diploma. Handwritten, to be typed once completed, (pre Sinclair times) I was scribbling away at the dining table when the young Groover, aged about two, toddled in with a piece of paper and a bright green felt tipped pen. He kneeled up on the chair, put his paper on the table, took the top off his pen and, with his tongue poking firmly out of the side of his mouth, proceeded to draw a dozen or so green lines across the piece of paper.

"That looks interesting" quoth I "what are you doing?"

"Writing" came the succinct reply.

"Really" I said, "are you going to read it to me?"

I received that kind of askance look that only a two year old can give you, before he replied,

"Don't be silly. I'm not old enough to read!"
(Thu 23rd May 2013, 19:57, More)

» Anonymous

It's Just Not Tennis.........
College being somewhat rural, and the last bus back from town being 9:30, we were often at a loss of something to do on those long balmy summer evenings.

Staggering back from the bar a little the worse for wear, we saw the entire contents of someone's room neatly arranged on the cricket square. What a laff! What a wheeze! what a jape!

Except that upon further inspection it turned out to be my room! Bastards!

*wavy lines*

Two weeks later, walking back from the bar, the culprit (we'll call him "Geoff" for convenience sake) noticed a space where his car was usually parked. Upon closer inspection he found his car to have been "parked" in the centre of the tennis courts. Through a gate half the width of his car. And there it sat!

It took the college gardners a week to work out how I'd managed to get it there through 10 foot high chain link fencing!

Still makes me chuckle.
(Thu 14th Jan 2010, 20:25, More)

» Foot in Mouth Syndrome II

Stoke Bruerne Waterways Museum
When I was a young teacher we often took our classes to museums, in the early eighties, before the National Curriculum. We embarked upon a journey to the above mentioned waterways museum with 40 odd children, including our hearing impaired unit, which included our profoundly deaf children, all of whom wore bulky crystal radio aids which hung round the neck, and earpieces. Being one of the first schools in the country to use Total Communication methods, we also had a bit of funding to buy brightly coloured earpieces as well.(Nowadays, I shudder to think of the reaction, but they were the latest thing!!)

The plummy voiced lady giving the talk was given the neck mike to address the assembled children and staff, and asked us all to move back from the edge of the canal. All obliged bar Jake, who stood staring at a mallard.

(Cue haughty voice) " I arsked yew to move awei frorm the edge. Are yew DEAF (shouted) or something???"

To which my colleague, a petite blonde young lady whom butter wouldn't melt etc, walked up to her and said, sternly but quietly, an inch from her face, so that the children might not hear.

"Of course he is you stupid woman. What do you think that is in his ears? Fucking plasticine?"

The Boss nearly choked!

We never went back.
(Wed 22nd Aug 2012, 16:03, More)

» School Assemblies

A Tin of Chappie..........
Twice a year I used to take the whole school to our local village church for assembly. It was usually the doddery old vicar's Sunday Sermon read slightly slower, and as boring as hell.

Our new vicar was younger, with children, and a top bloke. He had all of Elvis Costello's stuff on vinyl for a start!

So there we were, sat in the pews, when he starts his talk, pulling out a tin of Chappie, and talking about caring for our pets, different foods, love and affection, etc etc, and I'm thinking, heigh ho, nice visual aid, when he pulls out a tinopener and proceeds to open the can.

Bottoms start to shuffle a little in the pews as he opens the tin.

All food is nutritious, he says, it doesn't matter what it looks like, or tastes like. Would anybody like to try some?

Cue 183 remarks in the vein of euch, ergh, pooey etc and one young chap heading earnestly to the altar.

I'm sat at the back thinking, no, he'll stop when the child gets near.

Out comes the spoon, and a dollop of dog food, chunks and all, slurps out of the tin.

Vicar tells the lad to hold his nose, close his eyes and trust in the Lord as he feeds him the dogfood.

By now I'm envisioning the headlines in The Sun, and the children are nearly hysterical. I'm doing that Peter Kay fast-walk-I'm-not=running-but-I'm-panicking movement down the aisle when the dogfood gets deposited in his mouth, he chews and swallows.

I stopped in abject horror, wondering what the hell I'm going to tell the lad's mum.

Turns out he'd carefully removed the base of the tin, emptied it and refilled it with a mixture of Angel Delight and Mars Bar chunks, and that the lad was in on the whole thing.

I think he said a prayer later for all the evil words I was thinking.

(there's a few more like this)
(Thu 13th Jun 2013, 17:49, More)

» My Saviour

Blood Donors.
Everyone who gives blood rescues someone every day. They deserve a click.
(Fri 10th May 2013, 12:03, More)
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