The Law of the Playground
the pupil report of
Jon Blyth
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John Hoggart used to march around the football field saying "NOTHING STANDS IN MY WAY" in a robot voice.

Using all the lessons you've learned from this website about human behaviour, can you guess what happened?

That's right! He was abducted, tortured to insanity, given bionic implants and made to fight polar bears. After ten years of battling the Arctic beasts, his implants were obsolete, and he was dumped on a glacier and left to sail away. This icy island sailed into mediterranean waters, and John Hoggart's still-sentient corpse was sailed around on an inflatable banana to ward off pirates. He was buried vertically, and two snakes now use his skull as a home. They are very much in love, and every morning they pop their head out of an eye socket each, and do a kiss.

Oh, you know I'm doing a fib, don't you? I'll come clean; people just stood in his way.
approved Dec 22 2005, submitted Nov 22 2005 by Pogglesnatch , Jon Blyth
A variation of the offer of chewing gum, deftly switched with an invitation to chew your bum is available to those who have sweets.
A : Want a sweet?
B : Of course I do! I'm a kid. That's what kids do! We want sweets!
A : Suck my feet!
B : Feet! That kinda came from nowhere. I thought you were going to give me sweets.
Here are the only five other sweet / body rhymes...
Want a Mars? Kiss my arse!
Want a Snickers? Piss your knickers!
Kola Kubes? Snag my pubes!
Reece's Pieces? Suck my faeces!
Butterkist? Anal fist!
Can you think of more? If so, write them down and post them to your mother, see if SHE thinks your potty mouth is funny.
approved Nov 29 2005, submitted Nov 7 2005 by Nick Pettigrew, Jon Blyth
Futuristic suffix, essential in games involving robots or Daleks.
Usage: put on a metallic voice and declare "I. AM. ALANATRON. EX. TER. MIN. ATE." A warning to people whose names rhymed with Tron, though. "I. AM. JOHN. TRON." makes you sound like a bit of a gaybot, marks you out as a target for ex. sperm. in. ation.
Tron making regular objects sound futuristic and robotic, it's arguable that William's arcade game Robotron 2024 was gilding the lily a touch.
approved Oct 3 2005, submitted Aug 11 2005 by Alana S, Jon Blyth
Emma was here
Now I'm gone
Left my name
To turn you on
"Headmaster, a group of children are gathered at the science block wall. They appear to be getting cheapies."
"What is it, Mr Huntley? Has the porn fairy been on the rounds?"
"No, sir. A girl called Emma has left her name on the wall."
"My God! That'll turn everyone on! She'll have every cock primed and ready to spunk!"
"I'll fetch the barbiturates."
"It might be too late for that - bring the hankies too."
approved Aug 3 2005, submitted Jul 25 2005 by Emma Ward, Jon Blyth
You're boss! That means I think you're great. So we would snap our fingers to Aztec Camera's Somewhere in my Heart on the radio, and agree that 'that song was boss', too. And Bruce Springsteen - how boss was the Boss?
Let me stop you there. Recent surveys have shown that Bruce Springsteen was, in fact, a Bent Over Sheep Shagger. Moreover, he's the bent-over sheep shagger, having pipped everyone else to the number one spot in a gruelling week-long animal shagathon.
He prefers the bent-over position, because he likes to feel the freshly shorn wool against his tummy, and this also allows another sheep to mount him, as he plays lucky Pierre in a raunchy ovine three-way.
Be careful when accepting this compliment, especially when it's preceded by "a", "the", or "my".
approved Sep 13 2005, submitted Jul 25 2005 by Matthew Loughlin, Jon Blyth
Blue Bounty Bars are objects of desire and great envy - they are amongst the most exotic of all the chocolate bars, thanks to the palm tree on the wrapper. Only Turkish Delight was swankier; so swanky, in fact, that the advert used a real scimitar to open the packet. On the very rare occasion that a Turkish Delight saw the light of day, your friends would often try to emulate this swankiest of unwrappings with a karate chop.
Anyway, the thing is, Red Bounties were gay. And even your classmates taking it off you and throwing it away wouldn't stop you being gay, so they'd have to beat you up to stop you making them gay too.
approved Oct 5 2005, submitted Jun 17 2005 by Dan B, Jon Blyth
approved Apr 29 2005, submitted Apr 28 2005 by Jon Blyth
Should you have a penguin wrapper with the same colour as someone else at your table, correct etiquette dictates that you hold the still wrapped biscuits aloft, with an air of impenetrable brotherhood and superiority.
But watch out - yellow wrappers are gay, and the synergy of two gay wrappers meant that combining their energies would make you triple gay. And two people being triple gay is six times gay, from just two gay wrappers. That sort of spontaneous gay creation could cause a sex-rift, and summon a lesbian made from electricity.
approved Apr 22 2005, submitted Jan 25 2005 by Jon Blyth, Adam Fraiwald
A girl's retort to any insult. It works on the same theory as "what you say is what you are", or "I know you are, you said you are, so what am I?".

Bully : Elaine, you scabby thighed fat bitch!
Elaine : A bit like you, really.

This is an imperfect reflection. The bully could quite logically reply:

What, just a bit like me? Do you mean I'm scabby-thighed but not fat? Or that I'm scabby-thighed AND fat, but just not as much as you? Either way, you just admitted that you are a scabby-thighed fat bitch, and I'm telling the headmaster.
approved Sep 3 2011, submitted Dec 28 2004 by Jon Blyth
The human variety of lead poisoning (popular amongst swans) can most easily be caught from the graphite in pencils. Once you have caught lead poisoning (chemical symbol Pb) from graphite (an allotrope of Carbon, C), you can trace your imminent demise by looking at your veins, which will turn black.
When this black, poisoned blood reaches your heart, you will die. The only way to slow this process down, so that you can run home and tell your parents that you're sorry that the last thing you said to them this morning was "I hate school, and I hate YOU", is by pressing one finger over the poisoned vein, which will temporarily 'pause' your circulatory system.
Once you have made your peace with the world, let go, and accept the inevitable.
approved Nov 19 2004, submitted Nov 18 2004 by Jon Blyth
You know when you sharpen a pencil, right? And you're excited, because you're going to draw a picture of your family outside your house, and you've learned how to draw bricks and what're probably seagulls.
But when you apply pencil to paper, the nib of your brilliant new sharp pencil gives, and flakes out to one side.
Pulling out the nubbin of graphite, you start to sharpen the pencil again. But now, you have about an eighth of an inch of futile non-sharpening, in which there is no "lead", just a broken collar of wood. While you do this, the mental image of your family outside your house is fading, like the photo of Marty McFly in Back to the Future.
After seconds seeming like minutes, you will have sharpened the pencil again, and paid no heed to the clicking sound that didn't feel like a natural part of the pencil-sharpening process. This recklessness will come back to haunt you, sooner than you think.
With your tongue hooked over your top lip, you start to draw the outline of your father's head. After a quarter of the circle is completed, your fingertips sense something awry, and it feels like a premonition when the pencil lead snaps once again.
That feeling of foresight leads to an overwhelmingly frustrating sense of I could have done something to stop it. This, heaped on top of the injustice of a twice-snapping pencil, can bring tears of impotence to the child who just wants to draw his mummy and daddy holding hands.
The explanation given by mothers and scientists in this situation is that "it's probably snapped in the middle".
approved Nov 1 2004, submitted Nov 1 2004 by Jon Blyth

This diagram, taken from the Silver Service manual, illustrates three of the most essential elements of waitressing.
1. Give the customer their food immediately upon their arrival.
2. While they are eating their food, show them the menu.
3. Everything is ten pounds.
approved Oct 18 2004, submitted Oct 18 2004 by Jon Blyth
If girls become wary of you when you tell them that there is a spider in their hair, you can convince them that no, really - there really is a spider in their hair this time - by saying "no, really - there really is a spider in your hair this time".
If more persuasion is required;
Level 1 : There is a spider in your hair.
Level 2 : No really - there really is a spider in your hair this time.
Level 3 : Oh God, there's a really big spider in your hair. Everyone, come and look at the really big spider!
Level 4 : It... it looks like it's laying eggs...
Level 5 : Look, I know I've been saying this a lot recently, and at the back of my mind, I realised a time would come when one day, you really might have a spider in your hair. I think I was hiding from that possibility, hoping it would never come, because I knew you wouldn't believe me when I told you. But honestly, this time, there is a massive spider in your hair, and from the markings I think it's poisonous. I don't expect you to believe me, I guess I've dug my own grave in that respect, but please - please seek help regarding the oversized spider that's running amok in your lovely hair. You must tell me your hairdresser, by the way.
approved Oct 26 2004, submitted Oct 15 2004 by Mike Gavin, Jon Blyth
Once you have someone in a bin, they're fairly helpless, so you can stage scenes around them.


Thomas : Good afternoon, Jacqueline. I trust no-one knows you came.
Jacqueline : Of course not. I value my position within the household, such as it is.
Thomas : You should know better than to... oh, is that the new flavour Monster Munch?
Jacqueline : You noticed. To be honest I am a little let down; I fear the flavour has gathered at the bottom of the bag, leaving the crisps themselves flavourless and cloying.
Thomas : Then there is only one thing for it!
Jacqueline : Whatever do you mean?
Thomas : You must spit a mouthful of the offending crisps into this bin!
Jacqueline : But Thomas!
Thomas : But nothing! Spit the crisps into the bin!
Jacqueline : But there is a boy in the bin, Thomas.
Thomas : Yes, that's Steve. We binned him.
[Jacqueline gobs her crisps onto Steve. Thomas takes a handful and does the same]
Both : A hahahahah!
approved Oct 15 2004, submitted Oct 14 2004 by Jon Blyth
Other words rhyming with Pony, apart from "boney", are baloney, Police Academy's Mahoney, Island (Coney), most pastas, and homey. I just wrote this.
My little Pony,
Just like Mahoney,
She's got a homey,
Makes helicopter noises that are phony.
And that's the best My Little Pony rhyme ever. SUBJECT CLOSED.
approved Sep 30 2004, submitted May 13 2004 by Jon Blyth
Witty response to come back with when labelled a 'bitch' at school:
'A bitch is a dog, a dog barks, bark is part of a tree, a tree is part of nature, nature is beautiful, so thanks for the compliment.'
Can be altered slightly for other insults too; 'a twat is a fanny, sweet fanny adams, adam and eve were in Genesis, so was Phil Collins, so actually you're calling me Phil Collins, so thanks for the compliment.'
And if it's any consolation, a fucking cunt must be an attractive cunt, otherwise it wouldn't be fucking.
approved Jun 8 2004, submitted May 12 2004 by amy jordan, Jon Blyth
From now on, any submissions of inadvertant innuendo in classical literature to i will brush my muff or holmes ejaculated will require internet link-based proof. Anyone writing in to say I think there's a bit in A Christmas Carol where Tom Bosley says 'hubba bubba bumlegs' will not be considered. They will not be considered, you hear me?
approved Oct 4 2004, submitted Apr 18 2004 by Jon Blyth
No-one hasn't gone through the entire Ikea catalogue, searching for even the vaguest rudeness. It takes a little dedication, but then, you find gold;

So you throw back your head and laugh - those Swedish! But that's not enough - you're on a roll, now you've had the Fartyg. So you spent two more determined hours, and eventually... you find something! And it's good! God, it's good!

Ha ha! A bummer rang for you. Yes. He was Swedish! Crazy Swedish bummers have been ringing you all day!
But then comes a long, dry patch, during which you doctor the VIPS pastry brush to look like NIPS. By now, your head is utterly full of these meaningless Swedishnesses. You're desperate for an excuse to see something, anything recognisable...

Ha ha! Stupid Swedish cow, with you smelly Udder BO. Rinse your udders, you filthy smelly cow! You laugh to yourself, but you know you're scraping the bottom of the barrel. Appalled at yourself, that you've spent the best part of a day idly leafing through an Ikea catalogue with no intention of even buying anything, you throw the book away.
That night, you dream in Swedish. And you dream of a range of glassware.

When you wake up, you won't know whether it was a dream or not. You'll go to that discarded catalogue, you will wipe the old food from the cover, and you'll spend the rest of the day trying to make Vika Manne sound rude in your head.
approved Apr 23 2005, submitted Apr 17 2004 by Jon Blyth, Ben Ashmead
Guess what?
A bag of snot.
Guess why?
Snot pie.
Far from being simple rhyming snot nonsense, this translates as;
A : What's that you've got there? It smells delicious.
B : It's a bag of snot, actually.
A : Oh. Suddenly it doesn't smell so delicious. Why are you carrying a bag of snot around?
B : It's the main ingredient of snot pie.
A : Oh! That suddenly sounds delicious again.
B : Yes, strange how your perceptions change with context, isn't it?
approved Apr 23 2005, submitted Apr 12 2004 by Rikk Hill, Jon Blyth
Not everyone who works with, or takes an interest in children is a paedophile.
The man from the Werther's Original advert is not a paedophile. Older male children's TV presenters were not paedophiles. PE Teachers who made you take showers were not necessarily paedophiles.
Labelling such people as paedophiles is not only lazy, obvious and weak, it also denigrates the comic potential of the real paedophiles, like Gary Glitter, and your dad.
approved Mar 27 2004, submitted Mar 27 2004 by Jon Blyth, Susan Tobacco