The Law of the Playground
the pupil report of
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The larger 'Rollaround' blackboards were just large enough to hide a smaller member of the class. Once, prior to our maths teacher appearing, Ian Wright (no, not that one!) hid behind the blackboard armed with a piece of chalk. Throughout the lesson Mr Riat was most confused when the things he had written at the beginning of the lesson had mysteriously disappeared when we asked to him to explain them again.
Mate, I would have had as much faith in your story if you'd said it WAS 'that' Ian Wright. If you expect me to believe that your mate was the elastic bloke out of the X-Files and that Mr Riat didn't notice a pair of legs coming out of the bottom of the board, then, well, you'd better blummin' well think again. Do you remember shortly after this happened, you woke up and ate your cornflakes? - Mansh
approved Apr 15 2005, submitted Jan 28 2005 by anonymous user
Word coined by a boy in my primary school who thought it was the Best Insult Ever because it was a compound of the two Worst Swearwords Ever. He was disabused of this idea when he tried to use it to insult smarter kids, who pointed out that if you thought fucking ladies in the cunt was bad, then you were obviously a big gaylord.
approved Feb 10 2005, submitted Jan 25 2005 by anonymous user
My name is Patrick Sears and I am nothing like these things you explain. Maybe next time you decide to write something to leave out a name cause I am sure there are other people with your name that has done bad things too.

Hello, Patrick Sears! I hope for your sake that you are nothing like these things I explain! Point taken, Patrick - maybe next time I decide to write something to leave out a name - because as you so rightly say, there must be other people with my name that has done bad things. - Log
approved Apr 18 2005, submitted Jan 24 2005 by anonymous user
Word owing its origin to a fusion of the two words molecule and models. These brightly coloured kits of plastic balls and flexible grey sticks were routinely handed out in organic chemistry classes to allow pupils to visualize complex hydrocarbons by building them themselves.
The perennial teacher cry of "don't just make a man and a dog" was traditionally met by a bunch of children waving a man and his little dog.
approved Feb 11 2005, submitted Jan 11 2005 by anonymous user
Ineffectual racism is crap, because it leaves you looking both morally repugnant AND bloody stupid.
Bullied to the point of "the rage" (q.v.) by a sikh boy, I decided in my desperation to retaliate by being racist, as I'd been told that this was "the very worst kind of all abuse".
Alas, my chick-pea eating, Greenham-common-supporting upbringing got in the way, and all I managed was a rather oblique comment about "things having a rather dark complexion."
He just looked a bit perplexed. However, he must have brooded about it nightly for a long time, because after not seeing him at all for four years, he suddenly approached me and threw me down a stairwell.
approved Apr 23 2005, submitted Jan 9 2005 by anonymous user, Name Withheld
A boy at my school was called Paul Hiscock.

Now why would his mum and dad do that? I cannot believe for one minute thay didn't try the two names together at some point before the Christening and go "oh, better not", which means it must have been deliberate. That's nothing short of child abuse in my book.

Matt says:
Could have been worse. They could have called him 'Aaron'.
approved Apr 16 2005, submitted Jan 7 2005 by anonymous user
The corridor cleaning machines with circular furry discs on the underside.
This name must be unique to my school. As a group of us were engaged in some light vandalism of the sixth form common room, the head caretaker walked in and caught us.
Angry, but not having enough respect or guts to challenge us directly, he said "stop that, or I'll go and get Mike Webber". The idea of our Deputy Head, Mr Webber, having an informal first name didn't register, so there was a moment of confusion before someone asked "what's a kwebber?"
The only thing that made sense was that he was offering to tidy up our mess with his massive sandy-wheeled machine. So on we carried.
approved Feb 5 2005, submitted Jan 3 2005 by anonymous user
We had 'IDBT', or 'if destroyed becomes true'. This causes a dilemma: Destroy it and it's true, or don't destroy it and everyone can see 'Danny is gay' scrawled on a desk.
approved Apr 10 2005, submitted Dec 19 2004 by anonymous user
A similar, but non-fatal, injury befell Nicholas Smith in our third year. Holding year-group assemblies in the dining hall was a brave move, given the dangerous mix of weaponry and boredom, but ironically it was a carefully positioned 3-inch pepperpot that did for him.

From my vantage point one bench behind the suspense was paralysingly funny, but when the time came he sat down with such vigour that it still sends a shudder through me to picture him rocketing back to his feet.

By sixth form he had taken to wearing an orange ankle-length frock around town.
approved Feb 17 2005, submitted Dec 13 2004 by anonymous user
Mysterious chemical additive included in food to induce postconsumption belching. Fernandron does not appear on any list of ingredients because, of course, the manufacturers are "too scared to admit it".
approved Feb 14 2005, submitted Dec 12 2004 by anonymous user
The caption of a grisly doodle or the cry accompanying a re-enactment of an excruciatingly painful demise. Represents "Arrrgh Pain!" interrupted by death.
approved Feb 9 2005, submitted Dec 12 2004 by anonymous user
The regularity of Torr & Torridge's calamities led to every journey being known as a roulette of death and calamity.
  • The giant rear side window falling out after being slightly leant on.
  • We ended up at a 45 degree angle in a ditch, for no better reason than the driver was just crap.
  • We hit the support strut for a porch, which promptly fell down. Needless to say, the driver didn't stop. Or make any gesture of acknowledgement.
  • The driver pulled out in front of one of those tractors with the huge spike on the front, which ripped down the entire side of the bus.
    Thanks, Torr and Torridge, for dozens of scenes of mild peril.
approved Dec 21 2004, submitted Dec 11 2004 by anonymous user
Public swimming pool sessions reserved for the differently abled. You escaped the cold pissy chlorine ten minutes early on vegetable soup days.
approved Apr 12 2005, submitted Dec 11 2004 by anonymous user
Two 'special' kids, one called Tom and one called Robert. Robert was big and dumpy and knew all the bus times, Tom was skinny and smelly and went everywhere with his snorkel pipe parker jacket hood done up, even in summer. Every breaktime two of us were picked to look after their retarded asses to make sure that Tom didn't set the fire extinguisher off...again. Everyone hated being picked to be the spastic sheepdogs, but it became a feature of break that we would back them into a quiet corner of the playground and then make them snog each other with tongues. Robert liked it but Tom hated it and would make a noise he called 'snarling'...a gutteral growl. Strangely we never tired of this innocent fun.
approved Apr 13 2005, submitted Dec 7 2004 by anonymous user
Quoits are used for various cunning tortures including throwing one at point-blank range into Jamie's face, and rubbing the perished and cracked rubber in a sawing action on Jamie's head.

Before you begin to think that we were extremely cruel to Jamie, be advised that Jamie did ballet, was proud of it and once performed it in assembly in front of the whole school wearing tights.
approved Apr 15 2005, submitted Dec 1 2004 by anonymous user
Lois Alderson was convinced that it was possible to catch AIDS by eating a sandwich that had been stored in a cracked tupperware lunchbox.
approved Feb 9 2005, submitted Nov 27 2004 by anonymous user
'Yeah, well you're ugly and your mum dresses you funny' was a popular retort to the pronoucement that your dad is gay. The small yet significant flaw is that it does not of course deny that your dad is a homosexualist, but in fact almost seems to confirm it.
approved Apr 13 2005, submitted Nov 26 2004 by anonymous user
I don't know if dabs exist anywhere else in the world, but in Feniscowles in Blackburn, they were slices of huge baking potato dipped in batter and fried. At 10p each, they were an extremely cheap, tasty and unhealthy meal for a growing child.
Paul H., our school's most prolific and robotic swearer, simply could not order a dab without referring to it as a "fucking dab". In everyday life, some nouns would escape the fucking prefix. But never dabs. Perhaps he just thought dabs was too short a word to make sense on its own - perhaps he just fucking hated the fucking dabs.
Briefly, the school grounds became 'The Place of the Eighteen Fuckings', when Paul H was hit across the back of his legs by his best friend, and managed eighteen uninterrupted fuckings before another word broke the flow. I think this has never been beaten anywhere else in the world.
approved Dec 16 2004, submitted Nov 26 2004 by anonymous user
A practice pioneered by a small but evil kid at my school. He would stealthily creep up to someone enjoying their sandwich or chocolate bar, snatch it from them, and then proceed to cram it into his mouth with an expression of evil glee on his evil fucking face.

This continued until the day when Russel, much to his dismay, dropped a virgin Topic bar on the ground.
Inspiration struck me. I searched for and found a dog turd, and dipped the Topic into it, giving it slightly more than a hazelnut in every bite. We then waited until the inevitable swan-dive. Revenge was very very sweet.

The evil kid had the gall to complain to the head of year about this. I explained to Mr Cooper that I had just instructed Russel to dispose of his dogshit-encrusted Topic into the bin lest any young children or animals think to eat it when the swan-dive occurred. Despite Mr Cooper's huge grin and barely stifled laughter, he appeared to believe me.
approved Apr 22 2005, submitted Nov 26 2004 by anonymous user
An ultra-urgent version of "dog in the playground" was "wasp in the classroom".
As the game was more urgent, you didn't have time to shout "wasp in the classroom". You'd just shoud "Wasp!", and the entire class would jump to their feet, waving rulers around without any real aim, stand on their desks, throw books at the wasps, and ignore the weak child who would squeal that we were "making it angry". Girls would pull at their hair, convinced that it was in there, or hide under their desks to avoid the books and flailing rulers.
It resembled the Muppets' green room, crossed with Airplane's "Don't Panic - PANIC" scene. Only three things could return calm;
  1. By an extreme fluke, the wasp is killed.
  2. The wasp flies out of the classroom.
  3. The teacher sighs and leaves the room.
approved Apr 19 2005, submitted Nov 23 2004 by anonymous user