| Report for MARC - MAN | |
|---|---|
| Approved stories | 1 |
| Rejected stories | 1 |
| Deleted stories | 4 |
| Summary | Mean Boy |
Believe it or not (most don't) I made this up!
I'm telling,
You're smelling,
You went to Batman's Wedding.
Don't know where the other three lines came from, nothing to do with me and as far as I'm concerned they ruin my song!
Must have made it up around 1977/78 while at infants school in Harrow, North London. Based on the I'm Telling, Your Smelling, ditty but with a Batman theme...very topical at the time!
I'm telling,
You're smelling,
You went to Batman's Wedding.
Don't know where the other three lines came from, nothing to do with me and as far as I'm concerned they ruin my song!
Must have made it up around 1977/78 while at infants school in Harrow, North London. Based on the I'm Telling, Your Smelling, ditty but with a Batman theme...very topical at the time!
Marble Week was an impromptu time that occurred every year during the summer at our Junior School.
Someone would bring in their marble collection, sparking off a massive school-wide frenzy where everyone would spend all their pocket money on marbles, bring them in to school and basically start gambling with them.
All around the perimeter of the playground would be kids sitting against the walls with their legs spread open and a marble in between. They would then tell the participants of the game how many paces back they had to go (based on what type of marbles were being used) then take a shot by rolling one of their own marbles along the ground towards the target marble. If any of the participants hit the target marble they got to keep it. All misses were kept by the target marbles owner.
Marble week would only ever last for a maximum of 1 week (if that) before it was banned by the teachers for the rest of the year. The two main reasons for the yearly ban were:
1. The temptation to throw your marble as hard as you could at the target owners crotch was to great for most of us. Sometimes handfuls at a time were thrown. Needless to say someone always got hurt.
2. 'Scrambles' took place regularly where the owner of a particularly good collection would accidentally on purpose have their marble bag knocked from their hands to the ground where they would spill out everywhere. At this time someone shouts 'Scramble!' and the whole school would go nuts trying to grab what they could.
Man! - they really were the days!
Someone would bring in their marble collection, sparking off a massive school-wide frenzy where everyone would spend all their pocket money on marbles, bring them in to school and basically start gambling with them.
All around the perimeter of the playground would be kids sitting against the walls with their legs spread open and a marble in between. They would then tell the participants of the game how many paces back they had to go (based on what type of marbles were being used) then take a shot by rolling one of their own marbles along the ground towards the target marble. If any of the participants hit the target marble they got to keep it. All misses were kept by the target marbles owner.
Marble week would only ever last for a maximum of 1 week (if that) before it was banned by the teachers for the rest of the year. The two main reasons for the yearly ban were:
1. The temptation to throw your marble as hard as you could at the target owners crotch was to great for most of us. Sometimes handfuls at a time were thrown. Needless to say someone always got hurt.
2. 'Scrambles' took place regularly where the owner of a particularly good collection would accidentally on purpose have their marble bag knocked from their hands to the ground where they would spill out everywhere. At this time someone shouts 'Scramble!' and the whole school would go nuts trying to grab what they could.
Man! - they really were the days!
Much like the game 'Tag' only it had to be started by touching one of the kids that were widely regarded as being 'Flea Bags'. Once you had touched a 'Flea Bag' the game would be to pass the 'Flea Touch' to someone else by tagging them and shouting 'Flea Touch'.
It was a sad time when TV personality Russel Harty died from a heart attack. However, as our friend suffered from a heart condition, we cultivated a game we called 'Harty', which largely involved sneaking up on our weak-hearted friend and trying to shock him into having a heart attack. He generally survived.
This phenomenon occured every year at my primary school and involved bringing in marbles and then gambling them all away. The game consisted of the host player sitting against the wall with their legs open and a marble on the floor in front of them. Competitors then took shots at the marble from an agreed distance and whoever hit the hosts marble with theirs won the hosts marble and got theirs back too. The host got to keep all the marbles that missed. Simple.
Unfortunately the tempatation to hurl your marble full-force at the host players knackers was far too strong for some of us and the resulting injuries always got marbles banned for the rest of the year. This never took more than a week.
Unfortunately the tempatation to hurl your marble full-force at the host players knackers was far too strong for some of us and the resulting injuries always got marbles banned for the rest of the year. This never took more than a week.
In my infant school the end of playtime was signalled by one of the teachers blowing a whistle. Everyone had to stop waht they were doing and stand still on this whistle. We had an asian kid named Amit who used to love running around the playground with his knob out. One playtime he was standing on top of a concrete playing arch with his knob out, shaking his hips and gibbering like a lunatic whren the whistle went. Of cause Amit had to stop waht he was doing and stand still. When the teacher noticed he had his knob out again she shouted very loudly, for all to hear "You there! get down from that arch and put your silly burnt sausage away!".
From that day forth Amit was known by all as Burnt Sausage and as far as I can remember he kept his knob in his pants.
From that day forth Amit was known by all as Burnt Sausage and as far as I can remember he kept his knob in his pants.