The Law of the Playground
the pupil report of
anonymous user
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Our headmaster allowed a playground fight between the two thickest boys in the school to escalate to the stage where one participant was hospitalised and the other suspended, simply because it was the week before the SAT tests and the school's league table scores ended up being a lot higher without those two dragging the average mark down.

*checks score on chinometer* Hmmm. Ah, fuck it. I suppose it COULD have happened.
approved Feb 17 2006, submitted Jan 31 2006 by anonymous user
Everyone knows that Swastikas are funny. Especially when drawn on a rubber, in reverse with permanent ink and then stamped on my friend's forehead during a German lesson.
approved Jan 31 2006, submitted Jan 30 2006 by anonymous user
At primary school we had a dinner lady called Mrs Delaney who would routinely refuse to allow us inside to use the toilet at lunchtime. Thus Operation Fucking Cow Delaney, codenamed Operation FCD, was born.

There were five conspirators. At lunchtimes we would run down to the wooded area at the bottom of the field and dig frantically at the ground with sticks. Our plan was to tunnel our way into the school, hence bypassing Mrs Delaney and enabling us to do proper indoor poos and wees.

However, loose talk costs lives. A teacher overheard us mentioning Operation FCD, and we were hauled in for questioning. Lee, the little cunt, spilled all the beans, including what FCD stood for, and we got a week's detention and had to explain and apologise for Operation FCD to Mrs Delaney herself. God knows what she made of it, but I still see Mrs Delaney now - she works in my local off licence. For some reason she remembers me fondly.
approved Feb 17 2006, submitted Jan 30 2006 by anonymous user
My suggestion to all budding toilet mountaineers is to buy a Leatherman. After reading this story I have studied many lavatory doors, and one day soon I plan to take out every public toilet in the city centre.

This is exactly what we want. Let's hope we make it into the newspapers. - Matt
approved Feb 2 2006, submitted Jan 29 2006 by anonymous user
To embelish the flid flippers joke, make sure that everyone stands in front of you. Perform the maneouvere, this time with the added impact of taking your shoes off and kneeling in them. This produces an excellent "fliddy dwarf" effect.
It is so funny, it is actually worth the stultifying wait for you take your shoes off, put your arms double in your shirt and tell everyone to stand in front of you. It is. I swear it is.
approved Jan 27 2006, submitted Jan 26 2006 by anonymous user
What a load of f**king crap this is- you bunch of white honkie crackers! I bet you're all fudge packing nancy boys!

I'm regretting showing you the site at all now, mum. Conor.
approved Mar 23 2006, submitted Jan 21 2006 by anonymous user
This would be the same Mr James that bawled me out when I cheered on the fire engines when they turned up one day. The graffiti wasn't there before I was kicked out, but I have seen it. The person that did it is right as well. Jimmy was indeed a cunt.
approved Jun 5 2006, submitted Jan 12 2006 by anonymous user
My 2nd year Maths teacher had a regular habit of "dropping" pencils next to girls who were wearing short skirts, so that when he went to pick them up, he'd grab a sneak peek.
He's now a supporters representative of a football club and, as a journalist, I have briefed my colleagues of his previous reputation. So when he has occasion to make an appearance at a press conference to moan about managers/chairmen etc, the air is filled with the sound of the assembled press dropping pencils on the floor.
We're onto you, Perv.
approved Jan 7 2006, submitted Jan 6 2006 by anonymous user
Meh, where to begin.
A seal's egg would in fact be 'un oeuf de phoque'.
Before anyone else bothers... a)We don't care.
b)
c)Look, just fuck off. - Ponky
approved Jan 6 2006, submitted Jan 6 2006 by anonymous user
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
Paul Statham once spat in my sandwich. In memory of this crime I composed the following refrain, sung to the tune of Grieg's In The Hall of the Mountain King:

Statham is a fucking cunt
Fucking cunt
Fucking cunt
Statham is a fucking cunt
A fucking, fucking cunt.


Not big on variety or lyrical invention perhaps, but like many simple mantras it contained a kernel of profound truth.
approved Jan 11 2006, submitted Jan 2 2006 by anonymous user
According to school rumour, womens' bits smelt of raw potato. This could never be disproved because the girls wouldn't let the boys check.
For the record, mine don't smell of potatoes, raw or otherwise, and these days, I'd be quite happy for you to pop round for a sniff. My address is: the remainder of this entry has been witheld.
approved Jan 5 2006, submitted Jan 1 2006 by anonymous user
Song about Anne, sung to the tune of 'Consider Yourself' from 'Oliver':
Anne fingers herself,
At home.
Anne fingers herself,
In front of the family.
She wanked off a horse,
At the farm.
Its clear,
She,
Didn't do any harm.

Not to be confused with 'Annie's Song' by John Denver. In THAT one she wanks off a pony.
approved Jan 1 2006, submitted Dec 30 2005 by anonymous user
Harmless stories retold in school only need about two periods to change into nasty perverted rumours that win the hapless victim a year's worth of beatings. Let's study the following case;
Gareth and Joe walked to school together everyday. One day, Gareth told Joe that he felt sick because he had to share bath water with his brother. He had waited for his brother to get out, then got in himself and washed his face with the water, but his brother then told him he had done a piss in the bath.
Became;
Gareth's brother pissed into the water in front of Gareth and then Gareth drank the water. Once.
Became;
Gaz lets his brother piss into his mouth. REGULARLY.
Became;
Gareth ALWAYS begs his brother to piss into his mouth, because he loves pissdrinking SO DAMN MUCH.
Became;
Gareth CONSTANTLY sucks his brother off in the bath. So much so, it's amazing he has time to come to school.
Became;
Joe having to go into hiding for the rest of that week, as Gareth tried to track him down to kick his teeth in.
approved Jan 1 2006, submitted Dec 30 2005 by anonymous user
As a deaf child, I sadly have a good appreciation of deaf related bullying. I especially recommend you don't try the "sneaking up behind the deaf child, removing his hearing aid, and throwing it to other kids" game, as one day he might finally snap and break your fucking cheekbone in 6 places. Alright?
approved Dec 26 2005, submitted Dec 22 2005 by anonymous user
Primary: Sextus plays with his dog's bone.
Secondary: Anus means "grandmother".
Sixth form: Eheu (a ho) means Alas; Euge (pron. "you gay") means "Hooray!".
Postgraduate: Pedicabo ego et uos irrumabo means "I will sodomise you and ejaculate in your mouth".
approved Dec 18 2005, submitted Dec 16 2005 by anonymous user
I DID shag Sally Francis at college, and she wasn't bothered about sensitive types at all.
Trust me, I'm a RIGHT CUNT. She fucking loved it, as well.
Sally, if you're reading this, please DO get in touch and let us know what sort of guy you go for: sensitive, like Tony Green says; or RIGHT CUNT like our anonymous and, I suspect, poorly hung user suggests? DO you love it? And don't forget to send us some pictures, as well - Mansh
approved Dec 14 2005, submitted Dec 14 2005 by anonymous user
We used to have a music teacher called Mr. Hewit who looked like a ginger Art Garfunkle and pointed at the hymn line on the overhead projector with his middle finger. How wude!
approved Dec 12 2005, submitted Dec 12 2005 by anonymous user
Should the present Monarch pass away, this song will not be rendered obsolete. Simply switch your allegiance to the new head of state by changing the last two lines to:

"Fucking and cunt, Fucking and cunt, Fucking and Cunt-er-ee!"
And thus a new generation gets to savour the taste of illicit playground swears.
approved Dec 5 2005, submitted Dec 2 2005 by anonymous user
When I was very small, I heard an older boy exiting the school toilets and saying "it bloody well stinks in there". I thought this was by far the funniest thing I had ever heard, and decided to adopt it as my own.

The following weekend, on a family trip to the zoo, I engineered an opportunity to visit the toilet while my parents, siblings, aunt, uncle and three cousins waited outside. Upon exiting the facilities I declared to my audience "it bloody well stinks in there", with just the right measure of raffish je ne sais quoi.

Nobody laughed, and my father hit me across the back of the head.
approved Dec 7 2005, submitted Nov 30 2005 by anonymous user