The Law of the Playground
the letter d
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Directed Study is where you were put if you were a "classroom distraction". You got put in an isolated location for several days instead of being allowed to attend regular class. In my case, it was a janitorial closet/supply room just off the main hall. The powers that be seemed to think this was punishment. Since I hated nearly all my white trash classmates and was bored stupid with the narrow curriculum offered by the corn pone teachers, this gave me the opportunity to wrap up with the busy work fast so I could spend the rest of my time drawing. Now I am a professional artist in a big city and they're all still there inbreeding.
Thanks guys! I don't miss any of you.
approved Jan 18 2003, submitted Jan 16 2003 by anonymous user
Dirty, Fat, Sod. Applied to any overweight boys who had shown an interest in sex. Seriously, how dare they?
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Holly
There's this girl that my friend used to go out with, from a different town of course, and on Christmas her dad disappeared. Oh no! Three days later there came a wierd smell - from the chimney. Scream! When the fire brigade broke open the chimney, to find out what could possibly be up there, lo and behold, there was her dad dressed as Father Christmas. Gaspers! You see, right, he'd tried to play a clever trick, but it had shockingly backfired as he had got stuck, because he never thought to inform his wife beforehand, or indeed shout when he became trapped.
This urban legend did the rounds every year, even after chimneys were virtually unheard of, until it became so crippled and tired that even the teller would dispense it with a weary offhand cynicism.
If you hear anyone telling it this year, kick out their sex.
approved Dec 16 2003, submitted Dec 7 2003 by benzaemon benzaemon
Dance, Dance,
Wherever he may be.
For I am the lord of
My dad's settee,
And I'll lead you now,
Wherever you may be
And I'll lead you all
In my dad's settee.

This never really made much sense, but I never questioned it and sang along with everyone else in assembly. Jesus was in charge of a piece of furniture and he could dance on it or fly around on it as he saw fit. Because that's what Jesus does.
approved Dec 17 2005, submitted Dec 15 2005 by Al Bruce
I'm so glad I'm not the only one. However, instead of the prosaic 'dad's settee', my version featured the more mysterious 'dawn settee.' The accompanying mental image of Jesus standing on a sofa, arms raised, with a psychedelic sun rising in the background was quite stirring.
approved Dec 28 2005, submitted Dec 27 2005 by Salad Meringue
Minus the sunlight
Minus the morning
Here in the bright light

Equally baffling was the reference to "springing, fresh from the lawn" which only added to the surreal imagery of the lyrics, perhaps referring to the blackbird who has pulled up some tasty worms.
approved Oct 12 2007, submitted Apr 25 2006 by anonymous user
What you get after removing the limbs of a Daddy Long Legs. They still fly, you know.
approved Apr 29 2003, submitted Mar 19 2003 by Chris Warren
As a child, this one-line song was performed every time I had finished a number two, prompting my father to come into the bathroom and wipe my arse. This is normal for small children, of course, but I got used to this luxury and opted-out of doing the deed myself probably for longer than I should have.
Eventually my patient father encouraged me to get on in life, fend for myself and embrace the defecation related hygiene that came with it. In time, I had almost forgotten about my brown jingle.
That was until I reached comprehensive. I'll never forget the mix of shame and fear I felt hearing my older brother and his gang of rough bully-boys yelling 'Da-dee I have Fi-niiiiiished' across a packed playground on my first day.
approved Jul 22 2006, submitted Jul 20 2006 by anonymous user
Named after a Mr Wakem, who was (in retrospect) clearly traumatised from his time in the Army - he would ask questions, and reward a wrong answer with the most vicious beating. this would be accompanied by cries of 'daddy whackers' from all the boys. Curiously, we all loved him and were very sad when he was taken away to a safer place.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Matthew Lagden
Alan was "special" in the energetic, disruptive, pissing-the-teacher-off kind of way. Textbook ADD hyperactivity I suppose, but as he wasnt a mong we would play with him quite happily at breaktimes. One breaktime we were talking about the new Dairylea advert and musing on what we would do for a Dairylea triangle.

Alan said "Well, I wouldn't do this", stuck out his bottom slightly and then proceeded to shit himself. We played less with Alan after this.
approved Apr 22 2006, submitted Apr 20 2006 by Yellow Highlighter
Dairy Lee was the name given in primary school to Lee Stocker, because he was on milk tokens due to his family having no money.
approved Sep 30 2007, submitted Apr 27 2006 by Old Smokey
A method of protecting your favoured place in a canteen. A pritt-stick, lid off, was hurled to the ceiling directly above your chair. The threat of non-toxic adhesive looming ever above would deter any pretenders to your plastic throne.
Leaving you to sit under it, instead. A mixed blessing.
approved Dec 22 2002, submitted Dec 19 2002 by s field
We had one teacher who, on entering the classroom would close the door unneccesarily hard, possibly to make up for small or non-functioning genitalia. Having enjoyed sticking a generally disliked chap's pritstick to the ceiling as a form of bullying for some time it was decided by most of the class who owned pritsticks that we should prime a trap for the soon to arrive teacher. We managed to get approximately ten stuck just inside the door before our lookout ran into the class, clearly excited. We sat, to a man bricking ourselves, in silent trepidation. I could hazard a guess that i wasn't the only person who, seconds before detonation, wished i hadn't taken part, or wasn't even in the room. events transpired as follows:

1: Teacher enters the room, turns, slams door.
2: 4 or 5 pritsticks fall on and around him
3: Teacher goes spastic.

Its great looking back, but i genuinely feared for my life at the time. We all got detentions, even the kids who were too poor to even own pritsticks, the twats.
approved Oct 3 2003, submitted Oct 3 2003 by Incredible Henry
The lyrical mainstay of Paul Yates second (and sadly last) school assembly pop extravaganza.

To set the delicious scene; Paul was NOT your normal school league pop kid. He looked like H from Steps had been interrupted whilst morphing into a football. His fringe and forehead seemed thrust together as a result of seperate, geographically divorced planning committees. His shirt cuffs were always a good seven inches prouder then his jumper sleeves.

He was good at all subjects and correspondingly bad at all other aspects of life - including not being considered a bed wetting chess club stalwart.

He happily admitted doing an hour of voluntary "study" (not homework, study) each night at home, as if this deserved anything other than scowls and occasional violence. His sister showed solidarity with her brother's cause by sprouting a moustache at the age of 14.

Despite all this, Paul scored minor pop kudos for a keyboard backed lament about nuclear war one assembly day. We begrudgingly gave him credit for his efforts.

Flushed with success, a later assembly found him sitting behind a "drum kit" assembled from the kettle drum, a snare drum, and all the other crap the dumb kids got to vent on during group pieces. To our delight, he proceeded to thrash (alone, without any other accompaniment) arhythmically like a waterheaded Keith Moon, whilst trilling in an odd adolescent contralto;

Dance to the music,
rock rock rock.
Everybody is doing it,
rock rock rock.

Please note his failure to conjugate "everybody" and "is" into a less rockless "everybody's". Oh yes, he even incited group bachannalian abandon politely. Of course, we laughed. A sound which his brain appeared to translate into applause.

He never performed another self-penned opus, so this remains the highlight of my school life. Paul, if you're out there; home studios are very cheap now. Please, Paul. You owe it to rock.
approved Dec 20 2005, submitted Sep 3 2005 by Drew Styles
A 'dangly-greenie' was some greened hock which could be spit out slowly and dangled from the mouth (generally over the face of your victim) which had enough flexibility to be sucked up and down at will. Competitions for the longest dangly-greenie were held regularly - if you could let it touch the ground and then suck it back up, you were a master-dangler.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Anon
Also known as "absailors"
approved Feb 22 2003, submitted Feb 12 2003 by John Cheetham
We had the same sort of thing in the US. More of a dangly-orangy. We'd drink orange juice, leaving a nice, sticky, orange mess in one's mouth in place of spit. Then we'd do the dangle.
Someone had the genuinely bright idea of using potato chips (crisps to the Brits) as targets. Bonus points would be awarded if you could dangle your spit, pick up a chip, and direct it to your mouth.
approved Mar 17 2003, submitted Feb 22 2003 by Name Withheld
A manoeuvre in the school photography darkroom, where a guy would attempt to get a girl to grope his exposed cock without her ever finding out who he was. Pioneered by Adam Hartley circa 1989, on Lisa Wade. Hartley had earlier in his career perfected the illicit 'classroom wank' in double Biology, and the art of 'farting very loudly in assembly and getting away with it', by simply erupting into laughter and taking the rest of the hall with him into fits of giggles, including the teachers. Genius.
approved Mar 24 2003, submitted Mar 22 2003 by Neil Robinson
Darren Carrington was fucking loopy, I swear. He used to insist on walking home with me and my mate, even though we both hated him, and would not speak to him all the way home. He would just walk along, listening silently to our conversation, and then leave us when our routes seperated. But this was only the start.
At the age of 14 or 15, he let it be known that he had joined the navy, and his given reason was that he wanted "to go and bomb pakies in Bosnia". Over the next few months we got running updates on his naval exploits - about how he had sworn aboard ship and been fined 10, how he had got angry and punched his captain in the eye, and as a result had had his hat taken away, and to top it all off, his commanding officer let him take HMS Belfast, one of the biggest ships in the fleet, into dock, but he had run it up on a sandbank, and would have to go back the next night to rescue it with a crane.
He would come into class with technical manuals for a Ford Capri, and a bag full of spanners. He laughed like gas coming out of a tap, a horrible whining groan of a laugh. He would say "I don't mind them niggers, but I just can't stand pakies." He was obsessed with Star Trek, but appeared to have never seen it.
He had 4 brothers - Wayne, Dan, Stu and Steve. Wayne was apparently "inside for welding a paki to a lamppost". When we asked him how he had defied the laws of physics by bonding skin and metal with a flame, he said that he hadn't actually bonded them, but had carried the poor fellow, still conscious, up the lamppost, tied a metal bar round him and welded that in place. Strangely enough, we still didn't believe him.
approved Dec 18 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Dan Wakely
Speaking of Wayne, there was a morbidly fat, pigeon-toed boy in my year called Wayne. His older, bespectacled brother, similarly fat, was called Glenn (like the fat kid off Grange Hill). I can't hear those names now without thinking 'fat'. Did anyone else know any lithe, slim, fit Waynes or Glenns?
approved Mar 10 2003, submitted Mar 6 2003 by spadge monkey
I know quite a few fit Waynes, but you're right about the Glenns. Every Glenn I know is short, fat, and wears glasses and roleplays.

For a moment, reading your submission, I thought "Roleplays" were a kind of shoe. Maybe they should be.
approved Jan 6 2004, submitted Nov 9 2003 by Chris Coman
All Glenns are short, fat and wear glasses, and all Barry's are immeasurably overweight. Without fail. There are no exceptions, not even exceptions that prove the rule, except Glenn Madeiros and Barry McGuigan, and they're just the exceptions that prove the rule, and probably don't even exist.
approved Oct 7 2004, submitted Jan 7 2004 by Alistair Gray
The one sentence that my brain saw fit to remember from years of German lessons. Translation - That is my tortoise.
See also Mein Hummer fonctionniert nicht.

approved Sep 9 2003, submitted Aug 13 2003 by Alistair Gray
Kann Ich bitte das Brot haben mein Stabhausrecke is hungrich...
Can I have the bread please, my stick insect is hungry

Another triumph of vocab over use
approved Sep 11 2003, submitted Sep 9 2003 by Ginger Snaps
I'm still learning German. My dictionary reckons that 'stick insect' is 'Gespenstheuschrecke' which apparently literally means 'ghost-hay-fright'. Sorry to bother you. I love you.
approved Oct 18 2004, submitted Oct 14 2003 by nathan blunt
Second-eldest son of a headmaster, inflicted upon Toll Bar School between 1985 and 1990. The originator of many anecdotes involving puddings, spunk and vodka. Here are some of his crimes;
Getting pissed on a fourth year trip to Stratford, knicking a traffic sign and singing 'On a Clear Day You Can See My Penis' outside the girls' dormitory at midnight.
Bringing ice-cream to school for his packed lunch. Ice cream melted in his bag, ruined his books.
Bought a frozen dessert from Tates for his lunch, tried to defrost it by putting it under his armpit, ate it.
Jacked off into a 35mm film canister as a love gift for Natasha Holmes. She ran off.
Got smashed on vodka in the 6th form, puked up neat vodka through his nose onto his pudding at lunchtime, continued eating it.
approved Oct 8 2004, submitted Feb 26 2004 by anonymous user
Wanted to become an embalmer and gave his mum a box of tissues for Christmas. And his Dad a can of peaches. Trousers were too short. Recently in the national press for having the world's largest collection of milk bottles, which he keeps in two specially made sheds. Didn't like girls - once we asked him out and he said 'unhand me, woman!'. Similar to Mark Gardner who also recently achieved national press coverage for keeping too many reptiles in his parents attic.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Ms X
I forget her name, but she would have been quite attractive if
(a) She didn't bear a disturbing family resemblance to David.
(b) She didn't constantly stink of cat piss.
approved Oct 29 2003, submitted Oct 28 2003 by Pete Smith
Tom Danby's sister looked more like a boy than he did. That's saying something when you consider that Danby looked like a big chimp with a stress vein on its forehead, stuffed into a school uniform.
approved Aug 20 2005, submitted Jul 7 2005 by Gotty Gotty
Did you swim with David Wilkie? No. Thought not. If you had swam with David Wilkie, you'd be wearing your badge.

I bet you don't even know what David Wilkie looks like. Well, he looks like the guy on my I Swam With David Wilkie badge.

No, I haven't got Sports AIDS. Jesus, you're so jealous.
approved Oct 21 2011, submitted Oct 21 2011 by Jon Blyth
On our estate there was this gang of hard lads who were made up of kids from broken homes, and the like. The comically fuckwitted Davie Dunn was one of these lads. One day, they were all skiving school and watching Enter the Dragon, while Davie decided to play with cat in the next room. The day after, the cat had kittens. Turning a blind eye to the logic of a human/feline hybrid conceived and born in just 24 hours, Davie Dunn became notorious as the man who fathered a litter of kittens.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Walrus
In days of old,
When men were bold,
And women weren't invented.
They drilled big holes in telegraph poles,
and walked away contented.
I think the implication is that they fucked the hole in the telegraph pole. Otherwise it's a pretty weird way to get your kicks, drilling holes in telegraph poles then walking off.
For those of you who didn't know that women were invented after telegraph poles, here is the first ever telegraph conversation.
approved Jul 12 2004, submitted Apr 24 2004 by anonymous user
Consider also:
In days of old
When knights were bold
And Durex weren't invented
They just put socks
Around their cocks
And babies were prevented
Authors note: Possibly the oldest allusion to a "wanking sock" on record, this rhyme appeared in the appendix of the Domesday Book, under "In this village Harold Rex had a Poshe Wanke".
approved Oct 21 2004, submitted Oct 13 2004 by Nick Hunt
In days of old when knights were bold,
And johnnies weren't invented.
They had to wrap their cocks in socks,
To keep the wives contented.
Towards the end of the Dark Ages, women were becoming more aware of their own sexual needs. Here we see how early sock contraception could be adapted to heighten and enhance the pleasure for both partners, as well as preventing unwanted babies and AIDS.
approved Dec 6 2005, submitted Nov 24 2005 by Name Withheld
Moving swiftly on to medieval pooing habits, we see the return of the telegraph poles.
In days of old when knights were bold,
And toilets weren't invented.
They dumped their load,
At the side of the road,
And walked away contented.
In days of old when knights were bold,
And toilets weren't invented,
They wiped their holes,
With telegraph poles,
And walked away contented.
Being a Catholic primary school, we didn't know about Durex until secondary school.
approved Jan 15 2006, submitted Jan 4 2006 by anonymous user