For some reason, Birmingham city planners did not see the potential headache in naming a road "Dogpool Lane".
I think the people who fix roadsigns have admitted defeat, because the same bad white paint job over the 'l' has been in existence for the two years I've lived here.
Everyone I know just refers to it as Dogpoo Lane. When I'm on the bus, I like to ring my boyfriend and say "I'm at Dogpoo Lane now, put the kettle on, I'll be home soon."
And do you know what? Nobody on the bus even smirks. Because I bet they all call it Dogpoo Lane too.

The combination of my bike lock which I let my friend know so he could borrow my bike to cycle home for a shit at lunchtimes. Such trips were vital to him as he was desparately paranoid about catching aids or gay from the school facilities.
One day, however, I changed my combination and neglected to tell him. The first period after lunch, he stormed up to my desk with his face wet with tears. Slamming his fists down, he screeched "Thanks a fucking lot, Green, I had to shit myself today".
My astonished response was never heard, as it was drowned out by the laughter of some 20 other pupils. A cautionary tale for anyone willing to take responsibility for the toilet habits of others.

A headline which appeared in our local paper following the announcement of the closure of our tiny catholic boy's school. The paper reported that the parent/teacher pressure group campaigning to keep the school open had spoken directly to the Pope, who was said to be 'gravely concerned' about the situation.
So concerned was the Pope, that he immediately cancelled all his pending engagements and flew to Droitwich Spa in his private jet, to jolly well give the local authorities what for.
Then the chairman of the pressure group woke up - and the cat was hungry.

A rank of sadness attained by those who have ever said "actually, I'm a dark elf". Higher ranks can be attained by being good at chess or having a basin haircut.

MERVYN : "I've got a Mervyn" - my knickers are wedged somewhere between my buttocks and are, therefore, causing me discomfort. In order to yank them out discreetly, one must confide in a friend, "I've got a Mervyn", so that they can walk behind you, forming a shield.
MELVYN : "I've got a Melvyn" - for some reason I have been running about in a pair of ill-fitting tights. The motion of my legs and arse has caused the tights to slowly wend their way down my thighs. The crotch is now suspended between my knees, allowing me to part my feet by no more than six inches, and meaning that the cold air is now circulating around my knickers, buttocks and upper thighs. Don't run in ill-fitting pairs of tights, you will only end up with a Melvyn.
MAUSTYN : "I've got a Maustyn" (pronounced "Moss-tin"). My sleeping bag zip is very stiff, and while I was fiercely yanking it up, I somehow managed to wedge the end up my arse. This is most painful, but results in much mirth at sleepovers. Whoever looks most uncomfortable has definitely got a Maustyn.

Nasal Daisy Chain. An actually-quite-cute-sort-of torture. When we were about 10 our group of friends took to the summertime habit of chasing our friend (a very good friend actually, why did we do it?) John Caulfield round the school field. Once pinned down we would stick a lot of daisies up his nose and in his ears, seeing if we could get more in than last time.
Sorry John.

Mr Jennar had to wear glasses with lenses like icecubes. To help him out I would do my homework in impossibly small writing using a 0.015 Rotring art pen and a magnifying glass; I found that by doing this I generally got improved marks. I can only assume that he didn't want to let on that he was technically blind, and simply gave my shoddy offerings the benefit of the doubt.

Standard male reply to the age-old question "How's it hanging?".
A suitable girls' reply was never established. "Fine, thanks" seemed to suffice.

Another timeless classic:

Are you a lightbulb or a candle?

Lightbulb: So you get turned on by a knob?
Candle: So you get blown out by a puff?

Almost Swiftean in its ingenious subtlety.

Well, I've just googled "banana boat shoes" and got 4 references. Sure, there're no pictures but that's got to be worth a hand job, at least...