During the last storytime of the day, demonic headmistress Mrs. Windsor would pick her favourite children to stroke her legs through her nylons. This was an honour keenly fought over among the children, all under the age of six and unable to discern just how horrifically, grotesquely wrong this was.

I don't know about you, but I live in daily fear of a good solemnising. It's just so.... serious.

After the head of geography left his job after being accused of solemnising the cricket team (although apparently he didn't), he was violenty denounced by my physics teacher because he was a raging queer and therefore, obviously, guilty as hell. Strange, given that she was the biggest lesbian that I have ever clapped eyes on.

I'm passing it to Cockfingers because of the archery bit at the end.

The scareyness of going to an all-boys school in Essex stays with you for many years...here's a brief run-down of various terrors that i witnessed over the years at school:

Paedo P.E. eacher taking a kid into the showers to make him wash said Paedo's hair - naked...together...on a weekly basis...

A simple snowball being luzzed at another P.E. Teacher for a laugh; the teacher then turned round - grabbed a random child and punched him to the ground...

Thankfully, i had asthma - so i was happy to take the label of 'wheezer' rather than enduring a shower-sequence...

And, though not paedo related (though he could of been i suppose, so let's say he was) - during a one off archery lesson - i managed to shoot a teacher in the back as he walked away...sadly, he didn't die but did spend several weeks in hospital...

I notice Mansh dumped the last horrid one on you; here's another. It's from the Tutenkhamun Rissole boy whose entry I was recently banging on about.

We had dozens of paedo teachers at our all-boys' school. The most celebrated was Mr Carbines, a maths teacher whose soft tread behind your chair in class you learned to dread, as it usually heralded a warm, sly hand insinuating itself down inside your shirt, around a nipple and tweaking HARD. Naturally, Mr Carbines also supervised sport after school. One afternoon he came rushing into the shower room, where slim little snowy-haired John Doig was soaping himself. Grabbed the boy, picked him up in his arms, ran out onto the football field cackling like a maniac, and proceeded to roll wet, naked John around on the ground, covering him in dirt and grass. All this in full view of about a hundred boys and a handful of his fellow teachers. A sharp increase in the frequency of hostile acts perpetrated on John Doig can be traced to this event.