The acrophiliac song. For those of you who don't know, an acrophiliac is someone who has sexual intercourse with the dead.

Don't tell him, readers!

My name is jack,
I'm an acrophiliac
I fuck dead bodies
When they are cremated
I get frustrated
Cos there aint no lust,
In fucking dust

my name is gus
im an acrophilius
I fuck my mother
and suck my brother
When they die - I wont cry
Cos just like jack
Im an acrophiliac

You know how you should never laugh at someone for pronouncing a word wrong, because it means they learned the word from a book? (Instead, you should simply laugh at them for reading books.) Well, this is the opposite: you must absolutely laugh at this guy for thinking "a necrophile" is "an acrophile", because it means he only has oral experience of necrophilia. By which I mean he sucked off my dead dad

The cry i was greeted with every morning on entering the common room. By everyone. Eventually I learned to accept it. They even sang 'Happy Birthday' to me once. It wasn't my birthday.

You have 15 pens in an exciting variety of styles and hues. So do all the other members. It's a whole bunch of fun. Who WOULDN'T want to be in the Pen Fifteen club? So the uncool kid, desperate to join the gang, collects together fifteen pens in an equally exciting variety of styles and hues, and proudly presents them to the club. "Brilliant!" you tell him. "You have fifteen pens! Now you can recieve the secret Pen Fifteen club sign!" Taking the biggest, blackest, and most indelible of your collection, you then write "PEN 15" in big letters on said kids hand. Gorgeous in its simplicity, and great for fucking with the sort of kid who really DID collect scented rubbers or unusual pencil sharpeners.
(PS: I believe there is already a submission for the Pen Fifteen club somewhere in the archives. However, mine is better, and I'd be willing to go head to head with the other contributor. Good luck in the swimsuit round.)

Being a shower of cheap bastards, our school made us buy our own recorders. Anyone turning up without one was forced to play one of the special school recorders. These were nasty, communal, wooden recorders that had had all the lacquer abraded off them by year after year of applications of schoolkid spit. As a result, they were always unpleasantly damp. So, if you played one, you would, of course, catch AIDS from it, particularly if you had chapped lips.

If you refused to play it, our freakishly large music teacher would stand silently in front of your seat, his groin at the level of your face, with his mouth hanging open in a vaguely sexual way until you started playing.

Naturally, this would also give you AIDS, chapped lips or no. We didn't forget our recorders very often.

The greatest open goal nervy French teacher Mrs Redwood ever gifted me was sending me out of the class with the parting shot "...and don't come back until you're ready to work." So naturally, I went home.
With hindsight, I wish I'd had the vision to realise the gag's full potential and never come back.

"But I SUCK at oral!" complained Alexandra Cooper, the day before the oral portion of our German test. Mr. Keenan decided to commiserate with her while using her own slang to make her feel more at ease. Or something.

"Yes, I've always, uh, 'sucked' at oral too, but..."

The rest of his sentence was drowned out as the inevitable hilarity ensued.

Not that we were racist, or anything, but we had the idea of the Nation of Domination, wherein black people would be put into tubes and forced to drown on their own excrement. Very slowly. We never told that to anyone, and no-one knew what the Nation of Domination was, except a select few. Then came the day that our black friend wanted to join.

A more extreme version of kiss chase which never existed at my school, although at the age of about eight, I unsuccessfully tried to convince my cousins it did.

Kann Ich bitte das Brot haben mein Stabhausrecke is hungrich...
Can I have the bread please, my stick insect is hungry
Another triumph of vocab over use

I'm also fairly sure that in one of the Sherlock Holmes books, he ejaculates in his front room whilst he has a guest, who returns both of her hands to her muff in disgust. I'm sure it's in one of the books, I just cant remember which one.
On the subject of great literary ejaculations, it is rumoured that Jesus' last words in some prints of the Bible were "I come too quickly." Can anyone verify this? - I cant be bothered...
Well, can anyone verify this? We can't be bothered either.