Self explanatory nickname given to Emma Francis - a girl with too many hormones. To make matters worse, she had her first period in the canteen. Can't help being slightly jealous though - it took me another 7 years to acquire the same amount of facial hair.

A legal but distasteful rolled cigarette, made out of pubic hair and pubic hair alone. A boring day of revision at the school library. No teachers around. Andrew Hopley opens his flies, grabs the scissors, and cuts out a chunk of thatch. Rolls it into a piece of paper, borrows a lighter and tries to smoke it. Then the teacher came in. "Who's been playing with matches?" he asked. The teacher was standing on the still smouldering pubic spliff, that smelled - unsurprisingly - like burnt hair.

If Panksy Lane is where your mum lives, then Puddingbowl Lane is where you get your hair cut.

A short lived attempt by the sixth-formers to weed out the gayers in the school by putting up posters declaring Friday Pufti Day, and encouraging the boys to put on their best frock, bras, and suspenders. They were frustrated to discover that, despite the slipping standards of the school, nobody was actually that stupid.

Defecating into the pug mill (a device used to compress and recycle clay) will create an incredibly powerful stench, and create a substance not unlike clay from the nozzle. Unless the teacher has a genuinely filthy mind, the last thing s/he will think is that a child has gone bo-bos in the mill. The worst thing that will happen is a change of clay supplier. The last I heard of Dusty, our school's pug mill innovator, he was managing the bakery in Sainsbury's .

Standard, unimaginative retort to a threat of violence - "if you hit me, I'll hit you". "If you spit at me, I'll spit at you".
If someone is creeping up on you with a view to ripping the label out of your underwear, however, don't say "If you pull that off, I'll pull yours off".
If you did say that, hilarity would surely ensue.

A convenient label, incorporated into clothing, that the wearer is a poof under medical attention.

One of those "You can't hurt me..." idiots, with a smooth spherical ginger head and terrible teeth, "Pumpkin" already had enough reasons to be bullied.
Then his family got involved.
After school one day Pumpkin was about to get into his mummy's car when he was tripped by a boy half his age. "Ha-ha! PUMP-KIN!" laughed most people alive at the time.
Indignant, his mother burst out of the car, stuck her chest out and declared: "Yeah? Well I'm MRS Pumpkin!"

Pumpkin's look of "Fucks sake, Mum" coupled with the realisation of where Pumpkin's, well, pumpkin-ness came from, made for at least a term's worth of impressions and some great halloween costumes.

Mrs Baron was evil, vile and would rip you to shreds because the cleaners had knocked something over after you'd gone home.
One ingenious teaching method employed by this beast of a woman was as follows: instead of telling the class to be quiet, she would sit at her desk with her hand in the air in a type of Nazi salute. One by one the children would notice this and do the same. Her logic was that the last child to do it would be the child that was paying the least attention - and thus talking the most. Unfortunately, it could also mean that the child who wasn't acting like a member of the Hitler youth was actually getting on with their work.
Ironically Mrs Baron was barren. She left at the end of the school year to adopt a baby.

An unpopular female music teacher with dark hair one day appeared to have dyed it slightly purple. Todd Roylance, the perennial teacher-breaker, asked her why she had purple hair, to which she replied, "I walked under a purple cloud, and it rained!"
This pathetic attempt at a joke was met with howls of sarcastic laughter, and cries of "That's so funny, miss!", "You should be a comedian!", and possibly a simple, "You're shit, miss!". She left the room in tears.

A two handed nipple gripple. It should also be much harder than the nipple gripple, so that the nipples turn a gruesome shade of purple. The nipple gripple can be used for fun - the purple durple is for punishment only.

Irritable and ginger maths teacher Mr Duckworth had a PhD from some university or other. One day, whilst waiting for his arrival in class, Edward loudly informed us that PhD was an acronym for "Purple Helmet Duckworth". It was widely agreed that this was true.

To show who is supatuff, hold each others hands down and use a pencil eraser to burn a large skinless hole in your hand, by spinning the eraser back and forth as hard as possible on one spot of the top of your hands - like starting a fire with a stick.
Bonus round! While the wound was healing it would normally grow a bubble full of pus. Simply smack the bubbles of fellow supatuff pupils, and bathe in the yellow spatter.

Everyone has whiled away the odd hour or two at school trying to compile the definitive pussy thesaurus.

In my class, a piece of paper with the heading "PUSSY" was passed around for everyone to contribute to. Until it got to Ian, who wrote "cat".

Aged nine, a dirty girl in our school told me that when you were older, blood would come out of your gee and you would have a baby. This phenomenon was known as "Pyramids".