The Law of the Playground
the letter p
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This was a road sign supported by two pillars straddling the pavement just outside the school entrance. Any person who inadvertently walked between the pillars was destined to lifelong homosexuality unless they could retrace their steps within three seconds. If walking this stretch of pavement with a friend, one would attempt to engage them in protracted and intense conversation for the time it took for them to both walk through the lifestyle changing portal and for the effects to become irreversible. One could then loudly draw the unsuspecting fellow's attention to his new love of musical theatre.
approved Nov 4 2003, submitted Oct 21 2003 by Billy Fantastic
At the end of the science block in Singleton High School, there's a small underpass. When I was in year 11 or so, we overheard some year 7 kids declare that it was the Poofter Hole, after one of their friends inadvertently walked through it.
I mentioned this to my wife many years later who, coincidentally, went to the same school as me. She was surprised to hear it called the Poofter Hole and wasted no time in pointing out my obvious blunder; everybody knows damn well that it was Lezzo Lane.
approved Oct 23 2005, submitted Oct 21 2005 by Name Withheld
The large, hairy birthmark of Mark Pooley. Also had a theme tune, which I can't remember. So that's useful.
(I bet it rhymed garden with hard-on, though. If it didn't, you had no place making up theme tunes about portable gardens - Log)
approved Feb 18 2004, submitted Feb 12 2004 by Name Withheld
A game devised at primary school which entailed standing on a step and making a fart noise, then jumping off. So simple but so much fun.
approved Jun 24 2006, submitted May 19 2006 by anonymous user
My first ever detention, year 4. What for? Dunking an apple in my chocolate milk. A strange, strange, reason to punish one so young.

Next, year 8, writing 'fuck' in an essay on pirates. Pirates DO say "Fuck"! Good examples are: 'fuckin land ahoy' and 'yarrrr me fucker.' and 'fuckin shiver me fuckin timbers.'
They. DO.
approved Apr 15 2005, submitted Oct 1 2003 by Davy .
The fact that "plastic" rhymes with "spastic" led to some speculation that Scopers were made out of the stuff.

Half a pound of nuts and bolts,
Half a pound of plastic.
Stick them in the washing machine,
Out pops a spastic!


The single redeeming feature of this rhyme is the jubilant bursting out of the washing machine by the freshly manufactured spastic. You could almost imagine him with a rose between his teeth and jazz hands.
approved Oct 8 2011, submitted Nov 12 2003 by anonymous user
A form of torture that involves being restrained on the ground and having a sock covered big toe shoved up your arse.
Pop's Torture Support Group
This was inflicted on me several times by my older brothers. I'm writing about it here in the hope that someone will have experienced the same humiliation at some point in their infancy. Maybe we could, you know, talk about it.
approved Jul 14 2004, submitted Dec 11 2003 by Ginger Tom
After the pope's visit to Wales, our school got the altar. It was left on the school stage under a green tarpaulin, too holy and wondrous to be seen by irreligious children, who'd probably just write 'shit' on it.

One rainy playtime I snuck in and wrote 'shit' on it. I later panicked and returned to cover my crime. I changed it to look like 'ship'.

I lost sleep that night. The capital P at the end of ship was a dead giveaway of an converted t, and when the teachers found it they'd get the Pope back, and he'd proper bollock me.

Next day, I went back one last time and changed it to 'I love shiPs'. This put my mind at rest straight away - that's just the kind of thing the Pope would say. That drugged old cunt loves the ships.

Weeks later someone rearranged the plastic letters on the front of the altar, so they spelled out swear words instead of religious Latin. That Pope doesn't half leave some fucking cheap-arse altars behind him.

Swear words added in the editing process. Direct all Pope-bashing complaints to me, Log. PS your pontiff's a cunt and you secretly know it
approved Aug 10 2006, submitted Oct 19 2005 by Brian Boyd
A gay male. Possibly derived from the sphincter-loosening drug Amyl Nitrate, although possibly from the sound that we imagined bumsex made. 'Popping' was to insert the penis into another male's anus and thrust repeatedly. 'Poptastic' was never used, although I wish it had been.
approved Feb 12 2003, submitted Feb 12 2003 by Garry Shocking
Armistice is a big deal in some schools. At ours we all had to wear poppies. We spruced up the traditional red poppies with Smash Hits cut outs, paisley, tartan and check material etc etc and got the sixth formers to flog them from the tuck shop. The headmaster was livid, but impotent as poppy day collection had quadrupled from previous years. Not funny, but true.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Jeremy Thomas
Anyone could initiate a 'porn break' but there was substantial risk of being called a 'gayer' for those who refused to take part. They do so by giving the command 'porn break,' which must be loud enough for the all members of the class to hear.
As many people as they dared stood up at their desks and re-enacted the movements of their favourite porno flick (by themselves, no homo porno was allowed). This may have envolved getting oral, doing anal, straight, the 'wheelbarrow' or any other sordid image we could conjur up. Props were allowed including chairs, tables, cuboards, bins and board rubbers.
This went on for a maximum of five seconds, when everyone sat down and carried on working in complete silence as if nothing had ever happened.
Half the fun was the expression on the teachers faces, where you could see 'did that just actually happen?'. Most of the hard pressed staff chose to ignore it. Until Russell, a genius playground terrorist, took it too far and ran up to a French teacher during a porn break, and pretended that she was giving him a blowjob, then fucking her, then he bent over in an act I can only guess, that she was rimming his arse. We all paused, mid-pump and gaped in awe and respect. We quietly sat down as Russell was dragged from the room by the scarlet faced teacher.
Porn breaks dwindled away after that, Russell was the undisputed king and in that summer of 1992 he became a hero for a brief time. Until he got suspended for making hoax IRA bomb threats to the staff room....but that's another story.
approved Sep 24 2003, submitted Jul 25 2003 by Darren Lamb
At the given command of 'porn break' which must be loud enough for the all members of the class to hear. As many people as they dared stood up at their desks and re-enacted the movements of their favourite porno flick (by themselves, no homo porno was allowed). Props were allowed including chairs, tables, cupboards, bins and board rubbers. This went on for a maximum of five seconds, when everyone sat down and carried on working in complete silence as if nothing had ever happened.

Half the fun was the expression on the teachers faces, where you could see 'did that just actually happen?'. Most of the hard pressed staff chose to ignore it. Until Russell, a genius playground terrorist, took it too far and ran up to a French teacher during a porn break, and pretended that she was giving him a blowjob, then fucking her, then he bent over in an act that, I can only guess, was her rimming his arse. We all paused, mid-pump and gaped in awe and respect.
approved Sep 24 2003, submitted Jul 25 2003 by Darren Lamb
This reminded me of the joke: A man called Mr. Wankbreak starts a new job at a factory. One day his wife phones the foreman and says "Do you have a Wankbreak there?" "Wankbreak?" says the foreman, "we dont even get a tea break!" Please yourselves.
approved Sep 24 2003, submitted Sep 24 2003 by Susan Tobacco
Susan's joke reminds me of another joke. A man called Mr. Bigtittedladytocomeroundandblowall-Thefactoryworkers (he was posh, hence the double-barrelled name. He had fallen on hard times, hence working at a factory despite being posh enough to have a double-barrelled name) starts work at a factory. His wife rings up to speak to him and says to the foreman "Do you have a Bigtittedladytocomeroundandblowall-Thefactoryworkers there?"

The foreman replies "No we don't. The closest we've got is Maude the tea-lady, who's a bit of a slag, but never with me, the bitch."

It was told to me by my friend Billy Yourjokeisthemostcontrivedjokei'veeverheardanditsucksspackers'herpesoffaspork. We used to tease him about having apostrophes in his name, but he insisted it was how his name was spelled. We drove him to suicide. Grrrrrreat days.
approved Oct 6 2003, submitted Oct 6 2003 by anonymous user
We don't use the word "genius" round here too often, but there's at least two editors on this site who want to have sex with *points up* this anonymous contributor.
approved Oct 9 2003, submitted Oct 6 2003 by Susan Tobacco
Really? Gosh. Whilst I appreciate the offer of sex, I'm deeply in love with someone else. If you have nice tits, I'll accept a picture, but that's as far as I'm willing to go.
approved Oct 27 2003, submitted Oct 21 2003 by anonymous user
Oh I didn't mean me, hon. Log will bum anything with a pulse and the only thing stronger than Phil's steely heterosexuality is his intense dislike for me. Both have nice tits though.
approved Oct 30 2003, submitted Oct 30 2003 by Susan Tobacco
The mythical nymph that delivers crumpled and stained pornography to pubescent boys. The Porn Fairy leads its followers on a wild and wonderous treasure hunt, hiding its bounty of slightly soiled jazz mags in hedges along secluded country lanes, in dark alleyways at the back of the corner store, and, for some reason, in the park by my mate's house.

After a while, you develop a killer instinct for tracking down the Fairy's wares, and swoop like a hawk on any stray pieces of coloured paper that catch your eye. This often lasts into adulthood, resulting in fully-grown men who can't pass a bin without a quick rummage, and who will vault over fences and chase through fields after that distant piece of glossy that invariably turns out to be nothing more than a discarded Sunday Mirror magazine.

MUTINOUS ENTRY-CRASH FROM AN EDITOR: Seriously dude, Porn Fairy? Are we going to have entries for White Dog Poo and Spangles reminiscences? Theres a fine line between whimsical memory jogging and tired out old stand-up routines that are such lazy comedy cliches they have in themselves become lazy comedy cliches. What next- "Was Mr. Benn gay?" "Is it me or were Cadburys Crme Eggs a lot bigger when we were kids?" JESUS. Log and Phil, my fellow eds, Im looking at you in a tutting type way.
approved Jul 14 2003, submitted Jul 7 2003 by Mr Beret
If you're going to publically ridicule my post, can you at least take my name off it? I can't believe I come and visit a playground on the internet, and I get picked on by the big kids. Twats.
approved Jul 17 2003, submitted Jul 15 2003 by Mr Beret
And another thing, like you'd include "you killed Jesus" if it hadn't been submitted by someone off the telly. Back-slapping bum-sucking bastards.
approved Jul 25 2003, submitted Jul 23 2003 by Old Smokey
NOW HEAR THIS. I WILL NOT TOLERATE UNPLEASANTNESS TO THE CONTRIBUTORS. IF IT'S SHIT, IT DOESN'T GO IN. WE DON'T PUT ENTRIES IN, THEN TAKE THE PISS. MUCH. SUSAN. SAY YOU'RE SORRY TO DYFRIG.
approved Jul 23 2003, submitted Jul 23 2003 by Jon Blyth
Um, I'm sorry Dyfrig. I have now realised when you abuse others, you are only abusing yourself. My bad. If this was really school, now would be the time when the teacher revealed my parents are divorcing, or I've been bullied for not starting my period yet, and everyone would go "aaaaah" in understanding. Shall we all hug now?
approved Jul 23 2003, submitted Jul 23 2003 by Susan Tobacco
No, it's too late. One of my real life friends has seen this, and my internet ridicule has become real world ridicule. The only course of action left to me is to tell my parents that I'm doing my homework, and hang myself in my bedroom. You'll be sorry then.
approved Jul 25 2003, submitted Jul 24 2003 by Mr Beret
A nickname I earned thanks to my sterling efforts to stay one step ahead of the IT department, and ensure that all pupils got to look at boobs on the newly installed computers.

My budding porn empire came crashing down when I was confronted by a PE teacher holding a print-out of a picture of a lady pleasuring herself with a cucumber, and the question "is this your mum?"
approved Jul 26 2003, submitted Jul 23 2003 by Mr Lemon
Being 'Posh Pete' for speaking with received pronunciation at a school of thick Nottinghamshire accents became even less pleasurable when the Spice Girls occurred in the late 90s. I can only agree with the bullies who beat me up for being 'Posh', and a girl and gay as a consequence.
Sharing this epithet remains, to this day, the only thing I have in common with Victoria Beckham, as unfortunately, I have never sucked her husband's cock.
approved Oct 23 2005, submitted Sep 28 2005 by Peter Marshall
A torture often inflicted for minor infractions of playground rule, such as not being popular. The unlucky victim is held by the legs by two people, who then run as fast as they can towards a suitable post (usually a goal post, hence the name, but occasionally a tree, fence, etc). The two draggers run either side of the post, causing massive testicular damage to the dragee.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Rocky Shore Pervert
This is also known as "scroating" if you've read books.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Steve McDonald
At my school, posting was perfected to achieve a more painful end. The 'postee' was carried by four 'posters' so more speed could be developed, and was posted face down into one of the thick wooden struts which support cricket sightscreens. These, for those not in the know, slope downwards at approximately 45 degrees, thus ensuring maximum contact twixt post and genitalia.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Loz
A variant on standard posting which would involve grabbing your victim's legs (boys only) while they were astride some section of climbing frame. You would then recruit as much help as possible (sometimes three pullers to one leg) and pull the victims legs towards you and hence crush his genitals against the climbing frame. The net result of all of this was that the boys never went on the climbing frames. This meant that the girls couldn't either because all of the boys would look up their skirts. As a result only minging boggers went on them.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Trevor Callaghan
15 year olds who have theoretically discovered Cannabis may smoke pot pourri, thinking that it could be a decorative form of pot. This echoes other sad attempts to get high, including dried banana skins and microwaved menthol Tunes. (Giles Bicknell)
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Giles Bicknell
Ewan Thomas misunderstood the intricacies of the banana skin trick and grilled an entire banana. He then tried to smoke the charred remains in some sort of perverse Groucho Marx parody.
approved May 2 2003, submitted Dec 15 2002 by Name Withheld
Two of our school slags would suck you off for one pound at lunch time. Sadly, they were in direct competition with the local chip shop, who offered curry and chips at the same price. No real competition; chips every time.
approved Mar 10 2003, submitted Mar 6 2003 by Xray Stan
A game played at primary school, and a shocking parody of the life that was to await some of us in 4 or 5 years time. We'd take off our jackets and stuff them up our jumpers, pretending that the resulting bump meant we were heavily pregnant. The McGregors then walked around, hand on hip, complaining "Ooooh, my back's killing me" or "My ankles have swollen up". More mundane phrases would include "When's your's due, then? I've got two weeks yet."
The game came to a thrilling climax when the best McGregor, Naomi Smith, would proudly announce that her piles were playing up. We didn't know what piles were. I bet she does now, though. Ha.
approved Apr 28 2005, submitted Aug 13 2003 by Nicki Shaw