The Law of the Playground
the pupil report of
anonymous user
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Anonymous User One tells of a toilet mountaineering variant which might be of interest to small children and midgets. Not quite within the spirit of TRUE toilet mountaineering, which aims to achieve maximum lockage with minimum effort, but an interesting historical footnote nonetheless. And certainly preferable to *tchoh* climbing over the toilet walls. I mean, really.

At junior school the toilet partitions were high enough from the floor to enable me (being of a suitably weedy build) to crawl under the partition in order to achieve toilet lockout.

Anonymous User Two tells of an evil twist in the toilet mountaineering tail.

Wait until the you really badly need a poo. Place a wad of lightly-clumped toilet roll into the bowl before dropping your load, ensuring that the poo remains above the waterline for maximum stink. Wipe, leave and lock.

A group of friends, curry with raisins in for school lunch, and careful planning can result in a dozen reeking and locked cubicles by afternoon break.

Apart from the original story from James W, everyone has submitted entries anonymously to this topic. You should all know by now that to partake in this noble sport is absolutely nothing to be ashamed about. - Matt
approved Nov 21 2005, submitted Oct 20 2005 by anonymous user
From the age of about 8 until his late teens, my younger brother, Phil, kept a tupperware box of trumps under his bed. I remember Phil first telling me about his 6 week old collection and, me being his senior, I could only congratulate him on this fine antholgy.
He would run home from the swings, excuse himself from Sunday dinner, whatever it took to ensure a safe deposit. Years later we opened it and to this day, I know I'll never smell anything like it (think ammonia with depth) - this was pre-ebay days otherwise I reckon Phil would now be a squillionaire and I, a proud brother.
How much would YOU pay for a box of trumps? Earlier on, I ate a corned beef pasty and I've got the tupperware ready and waiting - Mansh
approved Oct 22 2005, submitted Oct 20 2005 by anonymous user
Q: (Pointing)Whats that?
A: What?
Q: Snot put your bogey on top.
I fell for this many times, but I never felt too bothered. I still don't understand what was happening.
approved Nov 29 2005, submitted Oct 10 2005 by anonymous user
In the days before Thatcher stole our breaktime school milk, the bottles were delivered to my Primary school in two differently-coloured crates.
It was crucial that you got your bottle from the green crate because, of course, "Green green, the football team". Taking one from the red crate was social death, because, naturally, "red red, you wet your bed".
Milk from the red crate definitely tasted worse as well.
approved Oct 11 2005, submitted Oct 10 2005 by anonymous user
Also in this range are fountain-pen flicking, and in the chemistry lab, mild acid-filled pipette flicking. Yes, mild acid. We were reckless children, not Bangladeshi honour killers.
approved Feb 17 2006, submitted Oct 7 2005 by anonymous user
Anonymous User misses the fucking point by a mile. I despair, I really do. - Matt

Just lock the door from the inside, climb over the top of the stall and into the next lav. Repeat again and again until all toilets in the building are locked.
approved Oct 9 2005, submitted Oct 6 2005 by anonymous user
Isn't it "melena"? Online Medical Dictionary definition: "stools stained black by blood pigment or dark blood products". Often indicative of gastrointestinal haemorrhage, for example as a result of a peptic ulcer.

Bleeding from the lower bowel usually results in a brighter red discharge as the haemoglobin in the blood does not have time to oxidise before being expelled.

Spunk in the stool is usually a primary indicator that the patient is a complete and utter hom - a right bottom boy. Like your dad.
approved Mar 1 2006, submitted Oct 5 2005 by anonymous user
Referred to as the Reverse Kanga in Australia, it made an appearance in the highly-criticized fifth season of 'Big Brother'. It is so-called because the squatting position one needs to assume is much like that of a kangaroo, which is having a backwards-facing shit in a toilet.
approved Oct 3 2005, submitted Oct 1 2005 by anonymous user
The gauntlet is well and truly thrown down by Anonymous User here. I know I'm probably the only person who gives a fuck about this, but I'd like to hear from any readers who just GET OUT THERE AND LOCK THOSE DAMN TOILETS. Lock them like they've never been locked before. - Matt

Feh, who needs a radiator key, or a particular variety of door lock? Was the previous contributor gay? Or stupid? Or both?
Any key, credit card or belt buckle will do. Pull the door closed and hold it with your foot, insert your chosen tool into the outside bit of the lock, and shift it round or across. This is also useful for locking your cousin into the toilet at home and inducing 9-year-old-boy-hysteria.

Someone's done this to the only cubicle that actually locks in the ladies' bogs in the council swimming pool, but I'm buggered if I'm going to be the one who unlocks it.
approved Oct 5 2005, submitted Oct 1 2005 by anonymous user
"Cack" was our word for excrement - solid, liquid, cold or still steaming. Immortalised in the nursery rhyme,

Doctor Foster went to Gloucester,
In a shower of cack.
The dozy twat forgot his hat,
And it all ran down his back.

At least on this journey he was spared the indignity of stepping into a puddle of shit that went right up to his middle; although this must have been before that occasion, considering his oath never to return to Gloucester at the conclusion of that episode.

In fact, considering his adverse reaction to just getting his legs wet in the classic rhyme, you'd imagine a faecal downpour running over his head and face, before trickling its moist brown path along his spine would have caused a much earlier embargo on Gloucester-going, that might have spared him the unfortunate puddle incident.

I bet he liked it, the Hippocratic scatwizard.
approved Aug 20 2007, submitted Sep 29 2005 by anonymous user
Safety lessons with Mrs Burge in primary school were a riot of incomprehensibility. We learned that if someone touches a live wire their muscles will be paralysed by the force of the electrical current and they won't be able to let go. She got Kevin to pretend to be electrocuted by the lightswitch (eyes rolling, tongue lolling, zzzt! zzzt! noises).

Obviously you can't touch Kevin to push him away from the switch, or zzzt! zzzt! - you're frying too. You need something that won't conduct. Plastic. What's made of plastic? A lunchbox!

Mrs Burge then took my Thundercats lunchbox, complete with Marmite sandwiches, and used it to nudge Kevin away from the switch.

Fucking *weird*.
approved Mar 1 2006, submitted Sep 29 2005 by anonymous user
Sung in the dinner hall between courses:

Arsehole, arsehole, a soldier I shall be,
To piss, to piss, two pistols at my knees,
Fuck you, fuck you, for curiosity,
Fight for my cunt, fight for my cunt, fight for my counnnnn-tryyyyyy.


Caused many a detention. I wonder why?

An alternative ending was "Fight for the Queen's cunt, fight for the Queen's cunt, fight for the Queen's cunt-ree". Some people think that this scans better and is funnier because it's got the Queen's cunt in it. It's all a matter of perspective, really.
approved Nov 11 2005, submitted Sep 29 2005 by anonymous user
Our very own bully magnet was Roland Price, who had blue-white skin, weirdly red lips and took private ballet lessons. Playground beatings were a regular event, until the day Roland took the bull by the horns and performed a classical ballet routine in front of the entire school at morning assembly.
The unanimous respect that followed him thereafter could perhaps be put down to his astonishing gall, or possibly to the fact that performing in tights revealed Roland as the possessor of an impressively large dong.
approved Oct 23 2005, submitted Sep 27 2005 by anonymous user
At primary school we would have little plastic beakers of squash at break time. One day, a girl decided to give the class pet guinea pig a drink by shoving it head first into her beaker. Unfortunately, a vacuum was immediately created, trapping the poor creature as the distraught teacher, surrounded by screaming six year olds, attempted to cut it free with child proof blunt plastic scissors. Needless to say, the girl in question had few friends for her ensuing primary school career.
approved Nov 7 2005, submitted Sep 27 2005 by anonymous user
Geography supply teacher Mr Mitchell noticed a switch by the white board. On asking us what the switch was for, we told him that it flipped the board over to reveal a clean writing surface. He then proceeded to flick the switch many times, with no resulting magical board reversal. Exclaiming that it was clearly broken, he remained utterly oblivious to the fact that the lights were constantly going on and off.
approved Nov 13 2005, submitted Sep 21 2005 by anonymous user
Alas, the teachers at my school were wise to such cock-japery, so on the last day of term nobody was allowed out on the field. But wait! We were wise to such anti-cock-japery measures, so we'd already smuggled in a tin of paintstripper. Net result: one giant, spurting cock on the floor of the assembly hall. Score!
approved Sep 29 2005, submitted Sep 21 2005 by anonymous user
Conclusive proof that our french teacher was a homo: his name - Pete Binns - was an anagram of 'bent penis'.
approved Sep 21 2005, submitted Sep 19 2005 by Name Withheld, anonymous user
Coming from Croydon, the "wittiest" (and only) roadname change came in the form of Compton road, which some brainbox renamed Oompton (well done, lads). However, one of the local pubs got attacked by drunks one night, and the following morning "The Leslie Arms" had it's removeable letters rearranged into "Shit Arse".

Puerile and slightly anti-corporate readers may also have noticed that the letters of Starbuck's Coffee can similarly be rearranged to spell "Best Of Arse Fuck". I'm not saying anyone should steal into Luton town centre at 3:30 in the morning and do this, but if anyone did, I'd suck their balls for a year - Log
approved Aug 20 2007, submitted Sep 18 2005 by anonymous user
We spread fertilizer on the playing field in the shape of a giant cock. It was funny enough to have a big brown pud marked out on the turf, but to our delight, as the weeks went by, the grass grew thicker & greener in this area and the result was a luscious big grass donger. It looked really good from the tower block in our school, and as mowing it just made it even more distinct, there was nothing they could do to get rid of it.
approved Sep 21 2005, submitted Sep 18 2005 by anonymous user
To Gay Bar someone, pin them down and punch them repeatedly in the anus with a big swiging motion of your arm shouting "GAY BAR!"

I can neither confirm nor deny whether such behaviour is widespread in drinking establishments on the other side of the street.
approved Sep 20 2005, submitted Sep 18 2005 by anonymous user