The Law of the Playground
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Pushed for time? A perfectly believable 'joint' to sell on can be created using tabacco, and your and your friends' pubes and bum hairs.
It makes a satisfying crackling noise when smoked.
approved Oct 7 2006, submitted Sep 30 2006 by Johnny Random
We dissected rats in Year 10 Biology. The boys paraded an opened rat, guts-a-glory, down the corridor in an attempt to nauseate the Year 9s. The girls were much more subtle. Rat foetuses make intriguing earrings.
approved Oct 7 2006, submitted Sep 5 2006 by Toby Tortoise
At my previous secondary school, I was bullied unmercifully, and I received at least one bogwashing (my mind has since blocked out large parts of the year I was there), so it's definitely not an urban legend. Urban legends tend to be drier. That said, I have been getting my own back recently, by seeking out the perpetrators and pounding the snot out of them. It's very therapeutic.
approved Oct 7 2006, submitted Aug 12 2006 by Name Withheld
A chap I knew at school put an advert in the local paper for an open-to-all wine and cheese evening at the private residence of Johnny Rogers, our head of sixth-form.

Imagine Johnny's surprise when three couples he didn't know interrupted his viewing of Top Gear by knocking at his door clutching Cabernet Sauvignon and a few pounds of Stilton.

I'd like to think he invited them in and made some new friends, but I suspect the world just doesn't work that way.
approved Oct 7 2006, submitted Aug 25 2006 by Gentleman Fatnacks
That's a terribly sad story, that Green Crumpets.
In my junior school we had a runty kid called Peter O'Neill who smelled of piss and who used to dry out the front of his trousers against the radiator.
One Christmas he got an orange. An orange. For fuck's sake.
approved Oct 7 2006, submitted Sep 27 2006 by henry the thirst
A supply science teacher told us about the 'TV Hitler' game. It was apparently invented by him and his flatmate.

What you do is, turn the tv off and with a black felt tip draw a small black rectangle somewhere on the screen. Then turn the tv back on again, and if someone on the tv stands behind the black mark, making it look like they have a Hitler 'tache within fifteen seconds, you get a point. Bonus points are awarded if it is a toddler or an old woman.

Try it at home now. You KNOW you want to. - Matt
approved Sep 30 2006, submitted Sep 29 2006 by Kev Leam
Childish insult that, in adulthood becomes one of the most cutting things imaginable. Try it. Call someone a berk today!

Many thanks to all the Cockneys who completely missed the fucking point and wrote in to tell us that berk is actually rhyming slang for cunt and very rude indeed, actually. 'Cuntybollocks' is rude. And so is 'why don't you just bloody piss on your nan's bum, you cuntybollocks'. 'Berk', 'nitwit' and 'der-brain' are not. Jesus. - Ponky
approved Sep 30 2006, submitted Sep 12 2006 by Cherry Green
Readers! An intriguing conundrum for you now. Two wholly unrelated submissions landed with a 'whump' recently, both bearing the title 'Geordie Racer'. So, was Geordie Racer a short-lived kids drama, or a crap computer game? Or possibly even both? Answers on the back of a pack of Sovereigns to the usual address. Firstly, from Anna Williams:
At primary school in the late eighties, bored children were forced to watch a drama series about a geordie kid and his prized pigeon, 'Blue flash'. No-one I've spoken to can remember the plot, but it caused my entire class to shriek "Blue flash!" in a falsetto geordie accent every time they saw a bird zoom across the playground.
And an alternate theory from the imaginatively-monikered Mary Woozley:
A shitty computer game, which required you to choose one of three pigeons, and then come up with as many words as possible using the letters in said pigeon's name. However, the sheer rubbishness of the game meant that it would accept almost any combination of letters, provided the pigeon's name had them all. Naturally, everybody chose the pigeon Bonny, and typed in 'nob'.
approved Sep 25 2006, submitted Jul 17 2006 by Mary Woozley, Anna Williams
We had a fucking huge dinner lady if that counts, nicknamed 'Sweaty Betty'. She was gargantuan - legs like melted candles and a six part tit/gut shape defined by her huge bra and unfeasably massive undercrackers - all packaged of course in bright highly flowered curtains that doubled as a dress. We found her tabard unattended once - the size label had been cut out but it was easily the size of a six-man tent.

She was so slow it would take her half of breaktime to cross the playground. However, we didn't dare arse about too much, as the rumours was that a few years previously one boy got sat on when eventually caught and he was still living in the rolls of fat, scavenging from the various partly eaten food items that dropped in.

She even gave her name to a playground game, where one person would wobble around pretending to be hugely fat, and the rest would try and 'pop' that person with an imaginary pin.

approved Sep 24 2006, submitted Apr 7 2006 by anonymous user
I also suffered from a form of Greaves disease, which in my case resulted mainly in the occurrence of great, seeping patches on my shins. To avoid any pisstaking, I would tell everyone that they were merely studmark injuries from playing football. Fortunately, no-one cottoned on to the fact that the closest I ever came to actually playing football was FIFA on the megadrive (Greaves disease permitting).
approved Sep 24 2006, submitted Sep 21 2006 by james morison
In our playground we had some rusty movable hooops, which we used to play netball or basketball with. One of the drawbacks was that occasionally the ball would become jammed up against the top of the basket, and whoever had thrown the ball would have to shin up and knock it back out again.

On one such occasion, Trevor Smith climbed up the pole and, after successfuly knocking the ball free, slid back down. However, he had forgotten that there was a hook designed to hold up a tennis net halfway down, which he duly impaled his nutsack on. In his obvious agony he let go of the pole and was left hanging only by his scrotum, about 5 feet from the ground.

I was one of the 20 or so boys who could do nothing but vomit as he flailed helplessly, emiting an ever increasingly high pitched scream until he was 'unhooked' by some teachers.

After a few weeks off school he returned with the imaginative nickname 'Womble' but frankly I would be suprised if anything had survived the rusty hook. Just writing this has chilled me to the bone(r).
approved Sep 23 2006, submitted Sep 18 2006 by Alex Minshull
If you take a stroll up the Lickey Hills in Birmingham you will find Twatling Road. Legend had it that that Ron Atkinson lived there - though I'm not sure what the original name of the street was, before he moved in.

Ho ho! A footy punchline. That's the last we'll have of that, thank you very much; we wouldn't want to be mistaken for Richard Oakey's mates.
approved Sep 23 2006, submitted Sep 7 2003 by Mr Hobbs
Frank's girlfriend was on life support. She was in a coma for two whole school years, yet somehow sweet Frank stayed faithful.
One day some people asked if they could go and see her. No they couldn't, because she'd died over the summer.
approved Sep 23 2006, submitted Sep 19 2006 by Eamonn Keane
A planet discovered by William Herschel on March 13, 1781, and named 'Uranus' by him, for a laugh. An absolute comedy staple of geography lessons, and by far the funniest of all the planets. Examples of usage include:
"Miss! Last night I looked through a telescope and I could see Uranus!"
"Miss! I know Saturn has rings, but what about the ring of Uranus?"
"Miss! Is Uranus part of a constellation? Is it Great Bare or is it the Big Dipper?"
Recently, teachers have tried to convince us that it is pronounced 'Err-en-us', but their efforts are likely to be thwarted by the announcement that planet 'X' is to be officially recognised, and re-named 'Stinkycornhole'.
approved Sep 23 2006, submitted Sep 22 2006 by anonymous user, Andy Mansh
Mr Winklemann, our German teacher, loves ducks.
Sensing mickey-taking, he once put a student into detention when he went up to him and told him (in German, mind) that he too 'liked ducks'.
He has a pet duck, and once said that the TV show, Inspector Rex, would be better, and worth watching, if his duck was in it.
approved Sep 23 2006, submitted Sep 22 2006 by anonymous user
Mark Prenton spewed magnificently during a film showing. Upon questioning, he revealed that he'd eaten green crumpets for breakfast because "that's all there was" to eat.

approved Sep 22 2006, submitted Jun 26 2006 by Name Withheld
We actually had a game called 'Skids' at our (no surprise) all-boys school. The aim was to produce the most impressive skid marks in your pants. Anyone actually shitting themselves would immediately lose...
...though now that I come to write this down, it's quite clear that we were all losers. Losers with shitty underwear.
approved Sep 22 2006, submitted Jun 5 2006 by anonymous user
After a lengthy motivational cum bollocking lecture, our American maths teacher told us, in all earnesty, "Yeah, I know I ride you guys pretty hard sometimes."
approved Sep 22 2006, submitted Jun 27 2006 by D T
There was a kid at my primary school who ate the urinal cake things because he thought they were marshmallows.
100% lies but we don't care. Have YOU ever eaten a piss cube? What do they taste like and did you suck it to make it last or crunch it?
approved Sep 22 2006, submitted Aug 13 2006 by mr smartarse
I don't know why we hated David Baddiel so much, but it was enough for us to invent this marvellous game. Basically, you run as fast as you can towards your victim, shout BADDIEL, loudly and then push them over.
approved Sep 20 2006, submitted Sep 8 2006 by Richie Jones