| Report for Lieutenant Penis E. McPenis | |
|---|---|
| Approved stories | 1 |
| Rejected stories | 7 |
| Deleted stories | 15 |
| Summary | Mean Boy |
When playground football becomes boring, it is a known fact that children turn to abusing their peers. That is exactly what we did to Mike Lelliott in year 8. Every lunchtime without fail several of us would pin him down and remove his shoes, tie, blazer, etc and throw them as high as possible into the "Diplomat's tree" (fuck knows why it was called that) and then we would simply abandon poor mike. I remember one such occasion when I hid his socks in crisp packets and threw them in a bush, and it was only by chance that we found them three months later... fast forward to year 9, and an art lesson with eccentric dickhead Mr Symonds (who ALWAYS wore green and brown and called you "lads" regardless of gender)the start of the lesson went thusly:
(everybody enters the room and sits down)
Symonds: Uh, take out your books please lads
(everybody takes out their books. except mike.)
Symonds: Uh, Mike- where is your book?
Mike: In my bag, sir
SYmonds: Uh, take it out then please
Mike: I don't have my bag sir
Symonds: Uh, why not mike?
Mike: 'Cos stuart threw it on top of a bush
At that point Symonds left the room with a stool to stand on and a broom to poke the bag down with but I managed to convince Mike that he was going to pole vault over the hedge and knock the bag down with a broom. The twat.
The funniest thing to happen was definitely at the end of year 13 though. Just before our final assembly, we were all gathered outside the hall waiting to go in. Suddenly a large group arrived from the other side of the train tracks (our school was next to a train line) and announced proudly to the assembled masses "We've just tied Lelliott to a tree in Stratford park" which was met by much applause. But not as much applause as when Lelliott walked into assembly half an hour late. The gayest thing was that he'd volunteered to be tied to the tree in the first place.
(everybody enters the room and sits down)
Symonds: Uh, take out your books please lads
(everybody takes out their books. except mike.)
Symonds: Uh, Mike- where is your book?
Mike: In my bag, sir
SYmonds: Uh, take it out then please
Mike: I don't have my bag sir
Symonds: Uh, why not mike?
Mike: 'Cos stuart threw it on top of a bush
At that point Symonds left the room with a stool to stand on and a broom to poke the bag down with but I managed to convince Mike that he was going to pole vault over the hedge and knock the bag down with a broom. The twat.
The funniest thing to happen was definitely at the end of year 13 though. Just before our final assembly, we were all gathered outside the hall waiting to go in. Suddenly a large group arrived from the other side of the train tracks (our school was next to a train line) and announced proudly to the assembled masses "We've just tied Lelliott to a tree in Stratford park" which was met by much applause. But not as much applause as when Lelliott walked into assembly half an hour late. The gayest thing was that he'd volunteered to be tied to the tree in the first place.
Before it was demolished and a brand new music centre was built, the music lessons at Marling School were held in a shit building, called Grafton House.
One room in Grafton House that contained only a comfortable chair. A spectacular design feature of this room was that the door could only be opened from the outside.
So, rumours flew around that this room was where the music teacher kept his stash of mind-blowing pornography. If you thought you had seen sex, then this pornography would put you right, by blowing your mind.
The imaginations of normal children in this situation stretches to a writhing black shape, with a compelling question mark on top. So once a child had become so curious as to go inside, he would be locked inside, forever*, with only a comfortable chair to sit on, and his imagination to wank with.
*Not forever.
One room in Grafton House that contained only a comfortable chair. A spectacular design feature of this room was that the door could only be opened from the outside.
So, rumours flew around that this room was where the music teacher kept his stash of mind-blowing pornography. If you thought you had seen sex, then this pornography would put you right, by blowing your mind.
The imaginations of normal children in this situation stretches to a writhing black shape, with a compelling question mark on top. So once a child had become so curious as to go inside, he would be locked inside, forever*, with only a comfortable chair to sit on, and his imagination to wank with.
*Not forever.
Hehe, Horn! Nothing more to it- whenever you saw William Watchorn you had to yell HORN! It got so fucking annoying though.
We called it "cruce" or something stupid. Probably because it resembled a crucifix. Kind of.
Before trusty old EMA (Education maintenance allowance) came into being (in fact, I left sixth form the year before it was given out! I would have gratefully gone to my lessons in return for £30 a week!) I was in the habit of not bein bothered to go to lessons. In the final few weeks at school I probably went to one English lesson- and that was cancelled. My morning routine was-
Get the school bus.
Get stoned out of my face.
Go into town for munchies.
Go home by 11.
Also, my mate Sam had a car before any of us, and so me, him and another mate Perrill (who looks like Phil Neville, apparently) used to drive to random places (usually the woods, to complete out mission of pushing an abandoned car down the hill. It never worked.) We did manage to take a photo of Sam climbing out of the burned-out car's window and convinced Pouch that Sam had rolled his car, burned it out and we'd all survived miraculously.
James Harley (whom we called "Boy") convinced Sam to drive to Selsley Spring cos apparently it was "well wicked". It turned out tbe a drain.
Get the school bus.
Get stoned out of my face.
Go into town for munchies.
Go home by 11.
Also, my mate Sam had a car before any of us, and so me, him and another mate Perrill (who looks like Phil Neville, apparently) used to drive to random places (usually the woods, to complete out mission of pushing an abandoned car down the hill. It never worked.) We did manage to take a photo of Sam climbing out of the burned-out car's window and convinced Pouch that Sam had rolled his car, burned it out and we'd all survived miraculously.
James Harley (whom we called "Boy") convinced Sam to drive to Selsley Spring cos apparently it was "well wicked". It turned out tbe a drain.
Ok, so this happened at another school but its an incredibly funny story and it involves my cousin.
My cousin Rick has a reputation for bein a man slag, and Ben Butler is officially the funniest man in the world- cue MANY fat jokes. The best had to be "Every time Ricky shags Janine she gives him a biscuit- and look at the size of him now!"
Unfortunately Janine and her pizza faced boyfriend Ollie weren't impressed, and this has led to a cold war between Ollie and just about everybody else alive.
The joke was revived two days ago when ME and my mate Jaffa walked past Ollie workin at Scummerfields coughing "biscuit" so he could hear us. Im gonna ask him where the biscuits are kept next week. The fat pizza faced wanker.
My cousin Rick has a reputation for bein a man slag, and Ben Butler is officially the funniest man in the world- cue MANY fat jokes. The best had to be "Every time Ricky shags Janine she gives him a biscuit- and look at the size of him now!"
Unfortunately Janine and her pizza faced boyfriend Ollie weren't impressed, and this has led to a cold war between Ollie and just about everybody else alive.
The joke was revived two days ago when ME and my mate Jaffa walked past Ollie workin at Scummerfields coughing "biscuit" so he could hear us. Im gonna ask him where the biscuits are kept next week. The fat pizza faced wanker.
My GCSE science teacher Mr Heyman was a great teacher, even though his lazy eye caused much confusion over who he was actually talking to on occasions. This became hilarious when the wrong pupil would end up feeling his wrath and being ejected from the room via misunderstanding. But I digress. Heyman took a very new and very expensive projector and wired it up to a video player to show us a video, probably aboput nuclear reactors, because thats all we learned about in science. This feat of engineering resulted in the projector catching fire. He did exactly the same thing to a new projector in our next lesson.
To my group of friends, Trio was a tag-style game in which one person was "it" and had to count to 30. Everybody else ran off around the estate and had to make their way back to the park ("it's" domain) and touch the sacred tree, and say (trio 1-2-3) or something. Then you were safe. If "it" touched the tree before you, you were out. The first person out is "it" in the next game. Bobby managed to walk unnoticed with a band of strangers right up to the tree and get in. I was less lucky. I made a mad dash for the tree, and ran face first- no, MOUTH first into it. The fact that I had a brace at the time only doubled my pain but it was fucking funny. I stayed in, too.
Bobby walked into a lamp post the other day whilst writing a text message.
Bobby walked into a lamp post the other day whilst writing a text message.
Every Science lesson, myself and Will Mansfield (AKA Bill Fieldmans) would raid kieran's pencil case, and use everything we found inside to construct a miniature fortress- fort kieran- which came complete with a tiny paper flag at its pinnacle with a K drawn on.
In RE lessons I also used to nick Mike Lelliott's pencil case (which we were convinced was made of cow's ass) and empty its contenets into the bin before turning it inside out and zipping it up. Ah, the fun.
In RE lessons I also used to nick Mike Lelliott's pencil case (which we were convinced was made of cow's ass) and empty its contenets into the bin before turning it inside out and zipping it up. Ah, the fun.
My mate Mark Perrill is called exactly that, though without the "s" - Manhead. In (yet another) science lesson- this seems to be where the funniest things happened at school- George Pennington scratched into a table "I am Manhead" and so when we were in a different science lesson, our other teacher burst in "Who here calls themselves Manhead?" which left Perrill helpless as he has a hoss head.
Strangely, we remixed the phrase to "Who here goeth by the name of Manhead?" which kept us amused for at least three years.
Strangely, we remixed the phrase to "Who here goeth by the name of Manhead?" which kept us amused for at least three years.
What is it with my group of friends and failing business studies miserably? Or at least just me and Fream. When I sat my BS GCSE, I was a dead cert to fail having only scored a grade E for my coursework. The chances of me failing were helped along by my writing "you should not give out your credit card details over the internet because they will be intercepted by giant squids and used for their own ends." I managed to get a C grade over all. HOW!?
Fream wasnt so lucky- he fell asleep halfway through question 4 because he couldnt be bothered.
One more thing- in my A-Level theatre studies exam I experimented by writing the word "wank" each time instead of "want". And because Theatre Studies focuses a LOT on what you want the audience to feel, or what message you want to convey, you tend to write the word "want" a lot. Or in my case, "wank."
Fream wasnt so lucky- he fell asleep halfway through question 4 because he couldnt be bothered.
One more thing- in my A-Level theatre studies exam I experimented by writing the word "wank" each time instead of "want". And because Theatre Studies focuses a LOT on what you want the audience to feel, or what message you want to convey, you tend to write the word "want" a lot. Or in my case, "wank."
similar to the "hardcore townie" style of flashing, just involving a different part of the anatomy. "Hardcore Townie" involves walking in public with your ass hanging out the back of your pants, similar to how townies wear their trackie bottoms. Just with less underwear. Not as shocking as a sack attack our best moment had to be standing in a chip shop with our asses out just as a cop car drove past. It slowed down so the pigs could get a good look... then sped off again. Arrest-free indecency!
We play a game called trio around my parts... not so much of a school game as one in our local area but it's cool and I suggest you try it... basically, find a tree. That is "base" and one person stays behind guarding it. All the others go off and disperse around the street/ housing estate/ town/ country/ wherever while the guardian counts to 30, or 100 or something. After that, you have to try to get back to the tree. If you are spotted approaching the tree, the guardian must touch the tree and say "one two three x is out" before you do the same (but instead of declaring yourself out, you say "in"). If he does it first, you are out- if you do it first then you are safe. First person safe wins, then it's a race for everyone else- last person back starts as guardian for the next game. Gettit? It's not that hard.
Hilarious out-takes include me running into the tree face first at incredible speed, saving myself from a toothless life only by the fact i was wearing braces; and fream walking unnoticed with a group of passers-by and sneaking his way in. Mega fun, chaps.
Hilarious out-takes include me running into the tree face first at incredible speed, saving myself from a toothless life only by the fact i was wearing braces; and fream walking unnoticed with a group of passers-by and sneaking his way in. Mega fun, chaps.
My mate Mark tried remembering the strings on a guitar with the little ditty (Elephants And Dogs Have Big Ears)...
it took a while to explain there is no note "H"
it took a while to explain there is no note "H"
Here's a little pervert's trick modelled by my cousin rick a couple of nights ago...
RICK: Fiona, I bet you 50p I can move your tits without you touching them.
FIONA: Go on then, you horny stud
RICK: *Grabs Fiona's tits and jiggles them*
FIONA: But you touched my tits!
RICK: Yeah I know, here's 50p
FIONA: I don't get it.
Ok I admit it's not very funny in itself, but Fiona's reaction and inability to get the joke made it worthwhile. Plus, I got to go home and do it to my girlfriend. But I do it for free. Lots.
RICK: Fiona, I bet you 50p I can move your tits without you touching them.
FIONA: Go on then, you horny stud
RICK: *Grabs Fiona's tits and jiggles them*
FIONA: But you touched my tits!
RICK: Yeah I know, here's 50p
FIONA: I don't get it.
Ok I admit it's not very funny in itself, but Fiona's reaction and inability to get the joke made it worthwhile. Plus, I got to go home and do it to my girlfriend. But I do it for free. Lots.
"Jingle bells, Batman smells
Robin flew away,
Uncle Billy lost his willy
On the motorway"
Also consider the alternative ending;
"Uncle Paul lost his balls
On the motorway"
Motorways were obviously a haven of male sterilisation when I was six years old.
Robin flew away,
Uncle Billy lost his willy
On the motorway"
Also consider the alternative ending;
"Uncle Paul lost his balls
On the motorway"
Motorways were obviously a haven of male sterilisation when I was six years old.
we had a "Manhead" (No "S") at our school. His name was Mark Perrill. He was bitterly disappointed when he was pipped to the coveted title of "Best Head" in our year 11 year book awards by Carl "Hoss-Head" Jenkins, whose head was perfectly spherical.
He shot to fame when somebody else wrote "I am Manhead" on a science room table once, and a science teacher burst into the room demanding to know "who here goes by the name of manhead?"
not really funny any more but it still makes me laugh.
Incidentally I am now listening to Metallica- Manhead's favourite band.
That reminds me- we formed a spoof band, Perillica- their hits included "Whiskey in the Pez" (one of his nicknames) "For whom the Pril (another nickname) tolls" and "Sad Like Pez"
Such tomfoolery led me to obtain a D grade in A-Level English. Shit.
He shot to fame when somebody else wrote "I am Manhead" on a science room table once, and a science teacher burst into the room demanding to know "who here goes by the name of manhead?"
not really funny any more but it still makes me laugh.
Incidentally I am now listening to Metallica- Manhead's favourite band.
That reminds me- we formed a spoof band, Perillica- their hits included "Whiskey in the Pez" (one of his nicknames) "For whom the Pril (another nickname) tolls" and "Sad Like Pez"
Such tomfoolery led me to obtain a D grade in A-Level English. Shit.
I remember once during GCSE English taking Mike Lelliott's book and drawing all over the page he was working on, various images of penises, swear words and the like- but the best were a giraffe/Mike hybrid and a picture of the sun holding a gun and a dripping knife saying "I'll tek the fookin' lot of yuz".
The English teacher saw it, Mike quickly singled me out as the culprit and I was passed from teacher to teacher to be punished until I landed in front of the head of year, who just said "its pretty immature, you wouldn't like it if he did it to you (to be honest I couldnt give a fuck if he did or didn't) now fuck off"
The English teacher saw it, Mike quickly singled me out as the culprit and I was passed from teacher to teacher to be punished until I landed in front of the head of year, who just said "its pretty immature, you wouldn't like it if he did it to you (to be honest I couldnt give a fuck if he did or didn't) now fuck off"
the first story in this subject reminds me of a science teacher at my old school, "bobby" Brown- he had some kind of whiny west country accent, was about 3 feet tall and his sweat-stained shirt stank of piss. He also drove a campervan and blew a hole in the science room cieling. Twice. Anyways, he wore a hearing aid so all you had to do as already stated was talk in a whisper until he turned his hearing aid up and then you started shouting. Oh yeah, it was also law that when you answer the register you substitute "yes sir" for "deaf smurf". Kudos to whomever said it loudest and clearest.
also consider "who the fuck is alice?" sung to anyone, unsurprisingly, called alice.
I believe a more correct version of the French sentence posted above should be:
"Le boucher qui travaille à La Rochelle touche des enfants, parce que son épouse ne rase pas ses aisselles"
Which means, if you don't speak French; "The butcher who works in La Rochelle touches children, because his wife does not shave her armpits."
Charming.
"Le boucher qui travaille à La Rochelle touche des enfants, parce que son épouse ne rase pas ses aisselles"
Which means, if you don't speak French; "The butcher who works in La Rochelle touches children, because his wife does not shave her armpits."
Charming.
In a similar vein, we told our mate Bob to shit in a barrel in the middle of our local park. And he did.
Unfortunately I never witnessed this myself, my school yearbook chronicles the tale of Andrew Elrick, the twelve-ton monster who was forced to listen to a rendition of "happy birthday" from his form group EVERY DAY for a whole term. Sadly, his layer of blubber prevented him from going insane, but nobody cared, and kept singin to him anyway.