When the PE teacher asked him if he was called Barry, he replied "Yes". She said "Yes what?" in that imperious manner of PE teachers, fully expecting him to answer "Yes Miss".

However, our Bazza replied, having had manners beaten into him by his parents, "Yes please". But he drew out the word "please" in a slightly puzzled tone of voice, which obviously meant he was unsure that this was the correct answer.

This was confirmed to him by the entire class, including the teacher, pissing themselves laughing, and Barry just pissing himself.

Barry Walker's finest hour was the hour when he finally learnt to tell a joke. The joke going round was "Knock Knock! Who's there? Spitonmish! Spitonmish who?" at which the teller hocked a greeny on to the victims Clarks commandos.

Barry's rendition of the joke was less interactive. He'd just say "Knock Knock, who's there, spitonmishoe," and never quite figured out why this brilliant joke ended up with him getting his shoes gobbed on.

Barry Tamkin was the stupidest kid in our school, although to be fair he did do a cracking impression of the Pink Panther walking into a tree. I hope this had stood him in good stead through life, as it was his only skill.
I'd be interested to know if anyone has ever encountered anyone called Barry who wasn't either fat/a geek/stupid/generally picked on, as I don't think they exist.

There was a Barry at our school, who incredibly wasn't a geek, fat, or stupid. Unfortunately his surname was Tease. So, boys howled 'Ooooh Barry is a Tease' in the gayest way imaginable. Actually, even gayer than that.
So he might as well have been a geek, fat, or stupid for all the bullying he got.

My unfortunate army brat cousin, given name Barry-John, was sent off to boarding school having become accustomed to being addressed as "BJ".
When he returned from boarding school, his mother amended it to "Beej".
It was too late.

Barry at my school cried when someone stole the sticker he'd been given by his dentist, featuring a picture of a crocodile brushing his teeth with an oversized toothbrush. Barry cried so much we were all called in to an emergency assembly so the headmaster could explain that we should never touch other people's belongings because even though they may not appear important to us, the things may mean the world to them.

Someone later stole the piece of tin foil that Barry had saved from his sandwiches. He cried even more about that, because he was really excited about adding it to his last year's easter egg foil collection.

Unusually, our Barry was tall and skinny with a friendly, honest face.
He did, however, have a phenomenal nervous tic, which manifested itself through Barry squeezing his eyes tightly shut for a fraction of a second - an industrial-strength blink, if you like - and a quick shake of his head. This occurred roughly once every eight seconds; every now and again he would do two in a row. Surprisingly, nobody ever mentioned it and he blinked and shook his way happily through school.

We had a Barry who knocked himself out whilst attempting a backflip whilst breakdancing at the school disco.
[mansh]It's the long awaited return of Barries We Have Known!
THANKS, IVAN! KEEP 'EM COMING![/mansh]

Our class Barry had Barry as a surname, rather than a first name. He compensated for this in two ways:

(1) He only had three fingers on his left hand. In order to avoid drawing attention to this he would keep it in his pocket at all times. No only did this not work at all, it also earned him his first nickname, The Hooded Claw.

(2) Once, whoever wrote the day's roll had terrible writing, while the supply teacher who read it obviously didn't know the names of anyone in the class, and thus spent a good ten minutes attempting to track down someone called "Batsy". This immediately became his second nickname.

We had a Barry at school who was probably the most annoying person ever. He was the guy who would tell you the ending of a movie while you're at the movie theatre watching it.

Anyway, one time somebody made fun of him for being poor at lunch. He cried for the rest of period.

We didn\'t have any kids called Barry at our school, but there was a Mr. Barry Cross, head of something-or-other. Picture a seedy-looking, swarthy amalgam of David Baddiel and Ian Hislop in a tweed suit. Looked like a pure child molester. His nickname, based on his puckered mouth and unfortunately prominent buck-teeth, was Barry Beaver. And a legend was born.

On a school trip to Italy, us pupils were expected to sit in our rooms and behave while the teachers sat in the hotel bar downstairs and got pissed. But one night, something more transpired. Barry Beaver was on the trip as one of the senior staff members, and so was Mrs. Douglas, a woman who obviously fancied herself a \"cougar\" but actually looked more like Iggy Pop does nowadays.

One night the teachers got more hammered than usual, and everything descended into anarchy. I myself remember clambering across the outside of the building to third-floor balconies, but that was pocket change compared to the news that trickled upstairs at about four in the morning. Barry Beaver and Mrs Douglas had been seen. On their own. AT IT. At it like fucking knives, apparently.

None of us looked at Barry Beaver the same way after that. Now we were even more repulsed. Now he\'d shagged Iggy Pop.

Our Barry had the surname \'Madley\' pronounced \'Mad Lee\' which led to him being called \'Mad Max\' and then simply \'Mel\'. He was bigger than us but luckily didn\'t mind the name. His dad owned a farm and i think i wanted to touch his sister but i\'m not sure

Not about Barry Walker, but an equally challenged kid who at 11 bore an alarming similarity to the adult Fred West. He once asked someone 'which hand do you use to wipe your bum?' when they answered 'right' he said 'Urgghhh, I don't, I use wallpaper.' Perhaps he did, I couldn't say for sure.

Barry Stephenson, our year 8 chemistry teacher. He was (is) fat/a geek/stupid/generally picked on. Just not picked on to his face. I think he's particularly memorable for the combover over the pointy head, which made him look like he had an elastic band round his head. He also had huge glasses and massive horsey teeth. He started EVERY SINGLE LESSON (without fail) with moaning about something, generally the year 9 class he had that morning. Also particularly memorable for the quote 'When you go home, don't watch TV or go on the computer, read a dictionary!' He was supposed to have retired at the end of year 8 but came back to annoy us.

the barry at my school thought he was a car. he used to make engine noises and appropriate actions(gear changes, steering etc.)whenever he walked or ran anywhere.Christ he even used to indicate and reverse. Shame I can't remember his surname, but his memeory lives on as being a complete tool

I was going to be named Barry John, after the legendary Welsh fly-half. My aunt was at teacher training college in Ediburgh, where late 1970's scrotes used the word 'barry' to refer to anything cool or otherwise approved of. My aunt took up this practice herself, and so annoying was it to her big brother that he changed his foetus' name to Gary John instead.

So it came to pass that I was named after a bloke with an entirely different name to mine.

There was a Barry at my school though, lanky ginger bloke that got bullied to within an inch of his life. Narrow escape.

The daily bulletin of absent pupils once misspelled Barry Angus's name wrongly, so announcing that among the dead was "B Anus". He wasn't off as it happened so we were able to show him that even the teachers thought he was an arsehole

Barry Cox was the funniest boy in my school, in Cyprus they have a Wine Festival every September and because there were no age restrictions, a group of us would totter on down and have a few glasses of wine and swan about calling each other Nigel and Wilfred and say things like 'I say Mortimer!' at about 9 o-clock Barry was pissed. So we decided to take him home, knock on his door and scarper. But Barry had spotted a couple snogging and canoodling in the park, and brazenly walked up and asked if he could join in. Needless to say, the bloke wasn't too pleased and got up. And started shouting at Barry, so we had to run up and propell Barry away before he was killed or something. I'll never forget that cheeky grin.