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Fun Stuff => CHATTER => Topic started by: Eris on 09 Jan 2008, 04:48
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It seems that Primary school was full of strange kids, who seemed to make day to day life that little bit more amusing. This thread is where you can share some of the more amusing stories about them!
When I was in year 4 there was a girl in my class, Renee, who had ADD and frequently 'forgot' to take her medication. The rest of our class would always try and work her up just before our language teacher would turn up to try and teach us French, in the hopes that Renee would do something either a) amusing, or b) bad enough that it would disrupt the class and we wouldn't have to do any work.
One day she grabbed onto a girl's hair, and refused to let go. Annie was about half the size of Renee, so she didn't really have any chance of getting her to let go. It ended up that someone was sent to go get our regular teacher, who took her up to see the Principal. Seeing as Renee (understandably) refused to go, Mr Brien had to pick her up and carry her over his shoulder out of the room. The sight of a rather tall man, carrying an 11-year-old over one shoulder was amusing enough, but Renee still had hold of Annie's hair, so she was forced to follow them out of the room too. That was the end of French for that day.
I also was once grabbed by a large girl with Downe's Syndrome and dragged about the playground while she refused to let go of me and declared I was her boyfriend. Luckily for me one of the guys who was also in the Special Unit was able to get her to let go of my wrist, thankfully before my hand went entirely blue from the lack of circulation. The same girl once picked up a kindergarterner and proceeded to carry her around, saying she was her baby, while the poor kid was bawling.
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In our primary school if someone was to pick a fight with you, you weren't supposed to fight back. Needless to say this rule kind of didn't work because if someone starts hitting you, you aren't just gonna sit there and take it and then go tell a teacher about it.
This didn't work out so well for me as i was the kid that got picked on and bullied by the other kids, my nickname throughout the whole of primary school was "Robbie the Jobby". So i used to get into a lot of fights and normally they would end up with me being the winner. This always caused problems because me being the winner, i was the least damaged over all so i got most of the stick every time i got into a fight. Primary school was really shit for me.
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I used to read a book while walking around in primary school, among other things.
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My first girlfriend was in sixth grade at Catholic school.
We started a trend of sneaking into the church balcony to make out in between classes and such.
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My first boyfriend was also in the sixth grade. Looking back, he had the best/worst name ever. Dustin McBroom. It still makes me laugh. We went on dates to the library.
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For about a week in 5th grade most of the boys in my grade were playing "Kill the Carrier," basically one guy has a football and everyone else tries to tackle, knock down, or basically maul him. This game was a complete violation of the no tackling rule for any game, but some how the teachers let us get away with it for a few days. Until one kid was tackled and tore up his knee really bad.
Because of the injury the teachers had to crack down. Everyone who was playing that day was given detention and had to write why playing that game was wrong. Even worse they had to stand next to the wall during every recess for the next week.
Though I had played every day and may have been one of the people who most advocated flaunting the no tackling rule, I didn't feel like playing kill the carrier that day. So a couple of guys and I were playing basketball or four square or something else, so we were not included in the group who got busted.
Not only did I not get punished for being involved I had the extra pleasure of torturing the rest of the guys in my grade by enjoying recess while they had to stand around not even talking. It was then that I learned the only thing better than having fun is having fun in front of other people who cannot join in for whatever reason.
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If you starve to death I will enjoy this meal much more.
In your own time.
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There was this boy in my elementary that was a bit slow and weird compared to everyone else and naturally he was picked on. I was always the "be nice to the weird and new kids" person but even I could barely talk to this kid as he was in his own world.
Anyways, I went to my hometown this summer for the county fair and saw a guy my age working the most dangerous looking ride there. It was him. I secretly feared he recognized me as one of the evil kids that was in his elementary and refused to go on the ride for fear of him doing something while I was riding. It didn't help that the ride was broken half the day. I still kind of feel personally responsible for the way this guys life has ended up.. I'm such a sap.
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According to one of the guys I've known since kindergarten, I once threw rocks at him on the playground, which resulted in a rock throwing war, which resulted in him getting in trouble. I don't really remember this happening, BUT I do know that until about 10th grade I didn't really like him because I thought he was a jerk (now he's tolerable, I guess), so I probably did do this and I probably laughed my ass off after it happened, because he was the one who got in trouble.
In 5th grade, we visited the library every week so we could check out books and whatnot, but when we were done, we'd sit at the tables and either read or talk quietly until it was time to go. Well, this was also the time period when those Budweiser commercials with the toads and chameleons were popular, so a table of 3 girls started to do the croaky Bud - Weis - Er thing. To 5th graders, this was kind of funny, so there were some giggles, which attracted the attention of the librarian. She wandered over to hear what the girls were saying and after she got it, she too started to laugh. When she stopped laughing, she gave them a detention for talking about alcohol. (Which wasn't really what they were doing, but whatever.)
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Hehe, you got in trouble for talking about alcohol.
I was given free alcohol every Monday and Wednesday.
Only when I got to college did I recognize it as 2-buck Chuck.
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Our swingset was old and the chains were rusted. One day while I was on them the chain connected to the seat of my swing rusted through right as I was coming down from the apex of my swing. Sadly the majority of my classmates took this to mean I was fat.
It's odd to think that grade school was probably in the long run a worse time for me than high school, but there you have it.
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a primary school story by yelley
once upon a time there was a catholic school that made its students pray before doing anything. we prayed in the morning, before lunch, before our class trip down to the bathrooms, and before going home. one day, a little boy in yelley's class was acting up during the pre-bathroom trip prayer. he refused to sit still and pray with the rest of the class, so as punishment the teacher made him stay in the classroom while the rest of the class went on their scheduled afternoon bathroom break. later that school day, after being denied his bathroom time, the little boy urinated in his pants and all over the floor, unable to hold it in any longer. the rest of the class laughed at him and the teacher was very angry with him. she called his parents to come and pick him up immediately, and made him sit in his urine soaked chair until they arrived.
the end.
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Super-professional.
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Stories like that remind me why I'm not religious any more.
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Because some people are shitty teachers? :?
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agreed, jc. the fact that it was a religious school is only necessary because the story specifically refers to him refusing to pray. the teacher was a bitch because she just wasn't a good person, not because she was religious.
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I only really remember two things from elementary school:
1) The time some kid hurled my glasses over the school wall because, while it was actually someone else who was picking on him and I simply laughed at the joke, I was a small kid and that other dude was big.
2) There was a kid nicknamed "Boner" because he claimed to have seen some girl naked. Come to think of it, Eris' post reminds me that this girl's name was Renee. huh, I wonder why I remember that.
I have more interesting memories from middle school, in large part because that stuff wasn't so long ago that I forgot.
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I feel like I've told this story in here before but it's a really good one.
In 8th grade I had this science teacher, Mr. Oxley. Mr. Oxley was about 400 pounds of incredibly friendly and jolly bespectacled black man (300-400 anyway). One of the key experiments that he used to teach the class about chemistry consisted of the following:
Step 1: Fill two connected burets with water, and put balloons over the tops.
Step 2: Attach electrodes to each buret and run a current through the water between them the electrolysis that results will fill one balloon with hydrogen and the other balloon with half as much oxygen. Explain the basic chemical concepts behind what is going on.
Step 3: Remove the balloon with hydrogen, tie it off, and attach it to the end of a coathanger wire.
Step 4: Wave said balloon around the room at the end of the wire, making putt-putt noises and saying "Here comes the Hindenburg!"
Step 5: Apply flame to balloon, creating short-lived fireball and making class happy.
So this one time he had gotten all the way through the experiment and he went to apply the flame to the balloon, and instead of just immolating, the balloon came off the wire and flew around the room, spewing flame out of a small hole that the flame had melted in it. The nearly-round Mr. Oxley immediately DOVE out of the door, shouting "Fend for yourselves!"
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LOL. I loved my science teachers, because they were all funny like that.
6th grade - Mr. Flinn, who was the science teacher for the 6th graders and also my teacher (the other two taught history and math and we switched classrooms for this, weird to explain), had to do the sex ed. thing one day and he brought out a pad. He was amazed at how absorbent they were and poured a large beaker of water onto it to show us just ow cool it was. (More grotesque than cool to a 6th grader, really.) Well, he was abent the next day and had forgotten to throw the now bloated pad away, so it was still sitting there the next day. The sub walked in, started to set her bag down, saw the pad, and slowly backed away with the most disgusted look on her face. It was funny.
7th grade - 1st day of class, Mr. Kelley walked in, threw a trash can across the room, causing some girl to you yell, "HOLY SHIT!" He said, "Exactly!" and then went on about cause/effect.
8th grade - We all made rockets this year and when one guy stuffed 5 engines in his R2D2 rocket, my teacher tried to stop him until he said he wanted it to explode. Then she stepped back and said, "Proceed."
10th grade - My chem teacher, Mr. Brandt, did all sorts of things: tried to set one of my classmates shoe on fire as he calmly watched, threw chunks of sodium in a clogged sink to try to make it explode, went bowling for students with the physics teacher when students wouldn't leave the building after school, and once chased a student down the hall with a yard stick, because the kid wouldn't stop kicking the cat lying outside of the classroom. (Yes, we had a cat. He lived in the greenhouse that was attached to the classroom and occassionally went out into the hall. He also once went into the ceiling only to come crashing down in a spanish class a few doors down.) We also played hockey with dry ice in class one day. This teacher was retiring the year I had him and had just gotten off probation for chasing another teacher down the hall with a homemade blow torch, so he wanted to have all the fun he could while he was still there.
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I don't remember what year I was in, I think the 5th grade. Our teacher got really sick, so we had a sub for a while. Instead of teaching us valuable lessons in math, grammar, and science, she taught us how to square dance. She was there for two months, I think, and I ended up do-see-do-ing every single day until our other teacher came back. The boys didn't like it very much, but the girls thought it was fun.
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i went to catholic school for most of my life, which meant that most of the kids who were in my kindergarten class were also in my class when we were in senior year of high school. actually, i have known my best friend fitz since preschool although we did not become close friends until high school.
a few months before graduation, fitz confessed something to me.
"remember that weird kid, kevin springmeyer, who went to st gabe's with us?"
"no," i replied (i've blocked out most of my primary school years from my memory).
"come on, he had bright red hair and he was really weird... and his disappeared halfway through second grade."
"oh yeah!" i remembered. "he was sent away because he bit a teacher, right!"
fitz laughed. and laughed.
"actually," he told me, "he didn't bite any teacher. he was just sent away to a special school. i overheard a teacher talking about it, so then i told everyone that he had been sent away for biting a teacher. and to this day everyone who went to st. gabe's remembers him as 'that kid who bit a teacher'."
and sure enough, a couple weeks later i was in debate class (run by the drama teacher who took smoke breaks while his class hung out and watched movies). two guys were telling stories from middle and elementary school. "hey, do you remember kevin springmeyer?" one asked. "you mean the kid who bit the teacher??" the other laughed.
poor kid, he has no idea about the false legacy he left behind.
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Ahhh grade school. What I am in! Well just today Some One threw cheese at all the "popular" girls and then the same person chucked his peanut butter sandwich across the lunch hall, and in mid air in broke apart sending one slice, without the peanut butter on it, skimming across my head and the other half landed on a kid's face.
Yesterday, A "friend" whipped an eraser right up a girl's skirt.
Last week, a teacher made my friend write two essays on why he turned off the class room lights at the end of the day.
Last month, my friend slammed a kids head against a desk, stood up and walked to the office.
Last year, during a "Dangerous Person is in the building or Outside", We learned that if some one was outside, they could easily see us from the wall of windows in every classroom.
In elementary school, we had "one of those kids" who was batshit insane. He threatened anyone who came close to him with scissors, dragged his penis across every desk during class, and was never seen again after 4th grade.
These are memories I can call off hand.
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agreed, jc. the fact that it was a religious school is only necessary because the story specifically refers to him refusing to pray. the teacher was a bitch because she just wasn't a good person, not because she was religious.
I meant it reminded me. There is always going to be a group of people who will try to impose something like daily prayer on people that don't want to be a part of it. I'm not referring to that story specifically, but it has some similarities with a bunch of other "shitty teachers" I've run into, and not just at my elementary school.
But also, this one time, we were playing Butts Up at recess, and the ball I threw bounced off the edge of the wall and smacked the principal in the face. Stupid kids high-fiving me for shit right as it happened, so of course all fifteen of us had detention.
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(by far my favourite) making the wrong facial expression whilst thinking.
I would like to know what the right and wrong expressions are for this type of situation.
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right
(http://hookedongrace.files.wordpress.com/2007/01/thinker_lg1.jpg)
wrong
(http://i31.photobucket.com/albums/c373/ill_phil/DSC00091.jpg)
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Last month, my friend slammed a kids head against a desk, stood up and walked to the office.
That reminds me of a story my brother liked to tell about when he was in Year 12.
He was in his Ancient History class (that teacher was pretty cool; she'd give out lollypops in class so that we would all shut up) and one of the guys there would always make rude jokes and would get sent out. One morning he was late to class, so he burst into the room, pointed out the window and declared:
"What's that white thing hanging in the sky?
It's the Coming of The Lord!"
Then bolted out of the room and down the hallway while the teacher started off after him.
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Man, I don't know where you guys went to school, but it was way more interesting than my primary school.
One of the only things I can remember is that when i was in preschool I was on the swings and the other kids wanted to twist the chain around so I would spin. you know the thing. I didn't want to but they did it anyway! When they let go a swung around and my head smashed the pole of the swingset! I had the best black eye. Apparently I didn't cry? I was probably too concussed.
My best friend and I have a list of silly stories about our primary school days, but very few of them have anything to do with school at all. For example: one time I was playing basketball with my brother when I said "Hey Paul, Bert died! Wanna see?". While he pondered what this could mean I exhumed our dead budgie from its little grave in the backyard and ran around with it to my brother making airplane noises. Also fighter jet noises. My reasoning behind this was because he had been away when said budgiie died.
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Oh, school stories!
Back in seventh grade, I had the nastiest homeroom/english teacher. I don't even remember what she did, but one morning, she pissed me off beyond belief. So in the next period, which was science, I spent pounting about it and eventually decided to write an angry message on a piece of paper. It read "Mrs. White (not her name) is a piece of shit." This made me feel a whole lot better for some reason and I placed it in my backpack when the bell rang.
Or so I thought.
I actually, by some misfortune, I left that sheet of paper under my table and my science teacher found it after class. He confronted me about it later that day and I wound up with a week of detention.
It was amazing.
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My dad moved us up to Canada when I was 10, and we were far behind on our French lessons, so my parents arranged one of the French teachers to sit with me and my brother after school and catch us up. We were sitting in the portable waiting for her to arrive one afternoon and I was leaning back in my chair when I guess the back legs of the chairs slipped or something and swung to just being on the front legs, wedging my head inbetween the desk and the chair. I was literally stuck. I couldn't move. My brother just laughed. When our teacher came in, she freed me, and I had this huge bruise right in the middle of my forehead. I was crying and we were sent home. That damn bump stayed on my forehead for years after. Years.
Also, in my two years of going to two different schools in Canada, I was never in an actual classroom. It was always portables. I felt so gypped.
When I was in third grade, a girl in fifth grade broke her tailbone by falling off of the monkeybars. I did not understand this for a while and a lot of us just thought she broke her butt.
In second grade, we were in gym class and my friend ran full speed into the wall and broke her finger. The same year, a neighbor sat on a different friend's arm and broke it.
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What are these "portables" you keep mentioning?
I broke a kid's nose once for making some comment about my sister in 5th grade. For all I know he could have said "She's wearing a plaid skirt," but I was (am) and irrationally angry guy.
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they look like this (http://www.mbinet.org/Images/image_showcase/nrb4e.jpg)
and you can do this to them
(http://i.cnn.net/cnn/2003/EDUCATION/06/02/classsize.portables.ap/story.classrooms.ap.jpg)
hence the name.
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I remember this one time in kindergarten, there was this one kid who felt sick, so he went to the bathroom without asking the teacher... The teacher followed him out of the class, and all we could hear in the class from down the hall was "AHHH!! IT BURNS!!!", and other going ons like that. Being kids, we just laughed about it at the time. Nobody really brought it up after that.
There was this other weird kid in grade school, he was a lanky fellow with dark hair and eyes... He would always fidget, and my asshat friends would always call him "Therapist-Boy"(I'm assuming that was because he was going to a shrink or something). Anyway, he'd always grab other guy's butts, and he'd pee really far away from the urinal with his ass completely bare, making his garbage clearly visible. This one time I caught him peeking over the stall when I was peeing(I didn't like urinals when I was young), I covered up and slammed the door open as fast as I could. He hit his head and started crying... I remember getting in trouble and being talked to about how he wasn't quite normal.
Everyone still remembers that kid, he was pretty messed up. I think his name was Morgan?
Also, one of my friends would always have fake weddings with his 'girlfriend'. It was pretty funny, every other week they'd have flowers and gumball-rings at recess and would be doing some weird ass ceremony with a bunch of kids as spectators. I remember in 2nd grade they were going to have sex(now, I didn't really know what sex was until I was about 11, and I didn't know all the other terms 'till about 13), and his girlfriend brought a blanket and some cream. They were going to do it at the tennis-court which was right next to my school. Now, I never really saw the blanket or cream, and my friend didn't go to the tennis court after school, so this is all hearsay.. But the fact that it was even a rumor amongst 7-8 year olds is fucked up in itself.
Public-schools are fucking messed-up. Builds character I guess.
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I have a lot of these stories but a lot involve nasty things happening to me so I shall relate ones that aren't so nasty.
1. Crosfields Boys' School: A guy called Matt who was definitely definitely into guys, only he didn't know it yet. I mean, when we played pretending to be movie characters and doing stunts, he was the one who chose to be Lara Croft. I'm fairly certain he had a fake tan, too. And one time when we were playing 40-40-in, he grabbed this tall guy called Geary's bum, and Geary threw a hissy fit - I don't remember what happened after that. Oh, and he waited til everyone else had finished showering after sports (we had communal showers) to take his shower.
2. Reading Grammar yay! Nastiest school in existence. Anyway there was this really really spiteful jerk kid called Tom (small, skinny and pointy-faced) who got his big butch mates to do horrible things to me (anyone heard of 'The Funky Chicken'?) mostly because I was small and quiet and fat and weird. So one time, rarest occasion, I catch him by the lockers without his big mates, and I hit him so hard in the face, so hard it breaks his braces. I got the worst shit from his big mates afterwards, and detentions for a month from the class teacher, but it was so worth it to hear him squeal, "Don'thhphp hurthphphp me!! I jusththth had theethe correcthphthed!!!"
3. Catholic school woop woop - Sex Education: Taught by the priest. A tall, gangly, grizzly irishman called Father John. Basically he just turned on his slide projector, showed pictures of dongs and vajujus, saying things like "And this is the male penis. Or as I like to call it, the Devil's waaahter pistol. And this is the female FUH JAI NAH. Or as the pope puts it... Satan's bath tub." To a child of 12 or so, this is pretty damn scary.
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My primary school memories involve lashings, beatings and having my head stamped on by other kids. Dog poop was involved.
Secondary school was the opposite of an improvement.
But I had the most amazing friends I could have hoped for, even though many of them lied to me and stole from me behind my back. It's okay, I never brought it up, I FORGAVE THEM.
Seriously, I'm like, Jesus.
Still kills me to see people angry or violent towards each other. In school you see kids get messed up, and you know they'll be like that for life. Personally, I think I got out of it okay, but I carry this sort of 'survivors guilt' which bugs the crap out of me.
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When I was in year 2 (my first year at a new school) there was this yaer 3 girl who kept making fun of me and generally being a bitch so one day when I had finally gotten sick of it I walked upto her in the playground and asked her why she was so mean to me.
Oh yeah, and halfway through her answer I punched her in the throat. I'm hardcore.
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Really?
Thats pretty ba.
Also, my friends dad thinks ba means "boy action"
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One time this girl in first grade that was really ugly kept trying to kiss up on me in class.
I didn't want to tell the teacher as that would draw attention of the other students.
To make her stop, my solution was quick and concise. I simply lifted my chair from my buttocks and slammed her over the head. She started to cry (thus not kissing on me) and to everyone else it was just a violent outbreak. Mission success.
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A Pyhrric victory of sorts.
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How so? I don't see him mentioning any downside to what he did.
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to everyone else it was just a violent outbreak.
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I only recently stopped going to counseling for my issues with my senior year of high school, and even when I was going to school elswhere I was frequently the butt of jokes, dorky, and an all around loser. this is why I found the internets, I don't look back over my time in school very often.
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When I was a senior in high school, I didn't eat meat. This got brought up in one of my classes, and the boy who sat in front of me turned around, and stated that he'd like to give me a "hot beef injection." It wasn't the first time he had ever said something like that to me. He pretty much grossly hit on all the girls all the time. I can't think of one good memory I have of the kid.
Anyway, he died the other day. Drunkenly crashed his 2003 Mercedes Benz into a tree. The nice, sympathetic part of me is kinda sad about the whole thing, but the mean, cynical part of me is not surprised at all.
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Yeah, a guy that sat next to me in one of my classes died during senior year, and since I didn't know anybody I had no idea what was happening and I didn't find out for like a week, when I asked another kid where he was since I figured he was just absent. God that was the most awkward situation ever.
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In sixth grade, I got to enjoy watching one of the most spectacular fights of my pubesent life. This kid, whose name was Chase, was an absolute douche. Biggest ego I have ever seen. But in reality he really wasn't as big a bad ass as he wanted to be (we played hockey together, and ofthen times he'd cry after getting checked. I was half his size and getting my ass kicked plenty by the same guys, but I digress). Often times we would wander around and hang out, but he would always stop by and pick on this kid who was, well lets say he was a tad bit slow. after about a month of the torment this poor kid got he finally snapped. Chase walked around the corner of the building and recieved an upper-cut to the chin. Chase gets up (with tears in his eyes) and attempts to throw a punch, but the slow fellowbegins to wail on him. about 3 minutes later, a teacher finds a small crowd of kids that began to encircle us and broke up the fight.
to this day, Chase still gets made fun of for "being beaten up by the retard".
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My junior year of high school, I didn't have many friends. Most of my friends didn't attend the same school as me, so lunch was always kind of a pain. I never had anywhere to sit. However, my boyfriend had a few friends who attended my school as well. One of his friends invited me to sit at the table with her, so on days when I wasn't hiding in the printmaking or photography room, I sat at her table.
One day, I'm just sitting there, headphones on, reading a book, and I just happen to look up, and I see this girl come up to the table, grab the back of my boyfriend's friend's head, and slam it into the table. Before even getting up, the friend grabs the other girl's hair, and pulls her down. Pretty soon they are both fighting like hell. The girl's shirt gets ripped, and the friend's face gets fairly bloody. When the administrators, and security guards come to break up the fight, one of them manages to get hit, another manages to get blood on one of their shirts.
After lunch, I go to chemistry, where I have class with the girl who started the fight. She comes in, with a new shirt, saying all this shit about how she won the fight and all this crap. I tell everybody at my table what actually happened. Eventually, the whole class is pretty much giggling at her, and she gets called to the office.
Neither girls got suspended. They both got ISS, though.
The girl who started the fight later disappeared for a moth or so because she ran away from home. She then disappeared again because they found something wrong with her brain. When she came back she started talking about how she wasn't going to take her medicine anymore. Then she got pregnant and disappeared forever.
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Please now tell us a story that does not end with the person enduring a terrible fate.
I guess you could argue that the story I told ends with the kid growing up to be me but then you'd be a dick, wouldn't you?
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A good story? Hmm.... I went to school in the ghetto from preschool to 11th grade. So yeah. Most of my stories are bad.
Oh!
Here's a story about me.
During my senior year of high school, I attended a regular high school, in the suburbs, as opposed to my ghetto, broke ass art school in the city. Every year, a college located in the town of my new school held a high school/college art show. They showcased art from the local cities and towns. Since I was a freshman, I was in that show. During my senior year, however, my art teacher refused to submit any of my work. She claimed I wasn't good enough, and didn't believe a word I said about being in the show before. I was pissed. I had just spent my last three years in advanced printmaking classes, I had been in independent shows, my work had been in shows at the art museum, and now she was telling me that I wasn't good enough.
Eventually, my class took a trip to go she the art show. Wandering around the exhibit, I see a bunch of work from old friends at my art school, and then I spot it. They had not one, not two, but three of my pieces in the show! My printmaking teacher had a number of my works, and he had sent them into the show. It was pretty awesome. My new crappy art teacher was pissed.
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man, i love reading other peoples' stories from school. it really is good reading.
anyway, when i was in 7th or 8th grade this new family moved to town; the dad became the new football coach at the highschool and his three sons went to school with me (although, i only met one; the others were several years younger than me).
there is no nice way to say this but...they are a family of douches. the kids names...get this...are Sterling, Stetson, and Saxton. last name also starts with an "S" i think. douches.
so Sterling was in my class and he was/is your typical quarterback moron with an inflated ego; we never got along. well, one day i decided i was gonna get back at him so i took apart an electric lighter i had and made a tiny, little tazer out of it and resolved to use it on him and hope it teaches him a lesson. between classes i sneak up behind him and give him a good, long zap on the back of the neck; his natural reaction is to start spazzing out and flailing his arms...at least until he turns around, then his natural reaction is to kick my ass (i come from very skinny stock; it was a very one sided fight.)
so i'm trying to fight him off, all the while getting pummelled when a teacher or someone comes to break us up and take us to the office for questioning. he's yelling "he's got a shocker!" and i'm failing miserably at speaking with my sore jaw. we have to wait in some sort of "interrogation room" while the principle is too busy to deal with us (probably drinking brandy in his office and smoking a cigar, the dirty old man), so while we're waiting i finally figure out how to talk again and me and Sterling make an agreement to deny all charges and back each other up so no-one gets in trouble, and basically we got off totally free because i wouldn't admit that he kicked my ass and he denied being shocked; they searched me for my tazer but i think i swallowed it or hid it somewhere because they didn't find it.
the moral of story is: american public schools, fuck yeah! (i learned to make a tazer but never learned long division; shenanigans, i say!)
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This has been most excellent reading. Especially when not sleeping at nearly thee in the morning with someone else asleep behind you. Nothing like stifled giggles in the night.
Also, one of my friends would always have fake weddings with his 'girlfriend'
We had one of those little couples. The boy's name was Jeremy, and was one of those kids your parents tell you won't amount to anything good. I think he was also in AWANA (Christian kid thing. You memorize loads of verses and play healthy, run around like a stupid ass kid games) with me, too... Anyway, they'd get married every month or so. They used ring pops. The noon aides would just roll their eyes at them. And, actually, they said they were going to have sex too. My parents gave me awful sex education, so I thought it meant just lying next to someone of the opposite sex. Damn the Bible. I got made fun of for being the only one in eighth grade who didn't understand the physics of sex. Anyway. They actually had sex in a classroom. Good times.
Quite a few years later, halfway through high school, my dad got a phone call. It was a kid named Jeremy (the one and the same) asking for my brother. After informing this upstanding young gentleman that my brother wasn't home, Jeremy called my father all sorts of lovely names and hung up (reflecting back, my brother had this thing about selling certain substances since he was quite young. It probably had something to do with that). My pops waited about fifteen minutes, *69ed him, and got Jeremy's father on the line.
Jeremy looked a little beat up the next day in school.
Elementary School:
I was the little girl with large glasses who read during recess, but, when forced to play a game for PE, was somehow athletic and always picked first. Go figure. Once, I had a little crush on Bobby James in... third grade. He seriously passed me one of the notes: "Do you like me? circle yes or no." It was cute. So we held hands at recess, and instead of reading, I watched him play four square with the other boys. My mum happened to be a noon aide starting that year (highly convenient if you were ill, forgot to have a permission slip signed, or forgot your lunch at home), and asked me why I wasn't reading. I did a little blushie thingie and mumbled something and she walked off. Bobby gave me his granola bar from his lunch. By 2, we weren't together anymore. Ah, young love.
Elementary/Junior High:
I played soccer for quite a while. When I was ten, I was playing in the second game of the season against "The Ice Breakers." I have no idea what my team was named. I was left forward. Ten seconds into the game, I kid you not, the ball lands between me and the other team's right forward. We both run towards the ball, I chip the ball with my left leg, and the bitch kicks me in my right shin.
It broke. Want to know the funny part? I didn't cry, but she did. Little faker, you broke my leg. Your foot's fine. Anyway, my poppa didn't think it was broken. "It's just a bruise!" he says. I sat on the sideline the rest of the game, obviously, though I was HEAVILY encouraged to go back. After all, it wasn't swelling super bad. *rolls eyes* So, I get carried to the car (after hopping feebly and intoning that NO, I can't walk), and when we got home, dad stood me in the hall and told me that he wanted to see me walking by the time he got out of the shower. Naturally, I sat down after about five minutes of balancing on one leg and cried.
We always went to church on saturday nights. I said I didn't want to go, so the parents decided I'd go to "big church" with them. *sighs* That was a hell service. I don't think you're supposed to sit in a chair with your feet dangling when you have a broken leg. Went home, dad still encouraging me to "walk it off" (BASTARD), I hop to bed (on the lower bunk... I had my own bunk bed and always slept in the top... except when pain abounded). I didn't sleep all night... around three in the morning, my dad came in and apologized for being dumb and said he was taking me to the doctor in the morning.
Four years later, the gal who broke my leg (I always remembered her name, because her team sent me a get well card, and she wrote "i sory i kick your leg. i was tryin to kick the ball) stole my first "boyfriend." Bitch. I was going to break up with him anyway, but still. Bitch. Also, she had these pointy teeth and everyone called her a vampire.
...that was longer than I'd planned.
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Just reading over a few posts it seems that everyone's school system is run by Joseph Stalin! When you disappeared, you stayed disappeared.
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There is about a two and a half year age gap between my younger sister and I, which meant when I was in primary school, she was still in preschool. Mum used to pick me up first, and then my sister. On this one particular day, we got out of the car at the preschool and there was this kid beating up on my sister. Just picking on her and whacking her and whatnot. So while mum had gone inside to sign my sister out for the day, I marched up to this kid, smacked him one right across his face, grabbed my sister by her hand and marched her out of the preschool grounds.
When mum came out, all I said was "NO ONE BUT ME IS ALLOWED TO HIT MY SISTER LIKE THAT" and I glared at the other kid. Apparently I was quite the defensive older sister when I wanted to be.
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In Year 1 there was a boy that everyone hated and I was big noting myself, saying I would put a thumbtack on his chair (because that was rebellious). Eventually I managed to get a few thumbtacks on his chair but he noticed before he sat down and I got in trouble for putting them there. When nobody else was watching I slipped the thumbtacks down his back instead. He cried really loud and I felt bad. I think this was when I realised that you should never, ever, try and hurt anyone else. (Hooray! A story with morals!)
In Year 4 I had an absolute dragon of a teacher. Once she got up to pin some decorations to the celing, but failed to notice that the fans were on. A blade skimmed her hair, making her say "oof" and get down quickly. By the end of the day the story had evolved to the fan taking out a chunk of her head.
Also in Year 4 I had to sit next to a horrible boy who kicked me under the table all the time. Once he puked all over my books. Another time his mum came in for Craft and I told her that he kicked me under the table and never lent me stuff. She sort of went "mm" but I felt supremely awesome because man, I sure showed him.
Another boy had a fantastic set of 150 Crayola crayons that he kept in perfect condition and never let anyone borrow. All of us were hideously jealous and one day I pretended that I didn't have my colouring pencils so the teacher made him share with me. He reached into his pencilcase and bought out a set of crummy pencils that were heaps worse than my own. I was grumpy.
The best playground game we had was when everyone except for a select few boys would stand on the bench against the toilet block and those boys would take turns to kick a soccerball and see who they could hit. I don't think anyone ever got severely injured. It was awesome fun.
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We used to play brandings at my primary school, a popular pass-time at schools across the nation. For the uninitiated, basically it's like tag, in that you have a bunch of people running in all directions and other people chasing after them, except that instead of catching up with the runners and touching them, the object was to throw a ball at them as hard as you could and hit them with it.
Normally the game is played with tennis balls, the school child's tool of choice for so many games. At my school, however, we made use of our natural resources - namely, a large oak tree growing in the middle of the school grounds. We played brandings with acorns, thrown as hard as a pre-pubescent child can manage.
It was brutal.
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Thumbtacks hurt like a bitch.
In third or forth grade (I never know which, because I had the same teacher), I was in helping my teacher do... something with thumbtacks. I can't remember what. I managed to slip on a pencil and, in throwing my hands back to keep from dying, the palms landed full weight on several tacks. I think I yanked them out myself, because I absolutely loathed the nurse.
We played butt's up, which sounds a bit like the soccer ball, let's hit people game. Except butt's up it with a tennis or racquet ball. A baseball if you can't find any other. Played against the wall... I don't really remember how it worked, but I think there was one person who would hurl the ball at one of the people against the wall (you could only move side to side), and if it hit you, everyone else cleared out and you faced the wall, not moving. If they hit you again, you were out. I don't know why that wasn't banned at school....
And red rover! Two groups of kids... the groups can be anywhere from five to fifty (but they have to be even)... hold hands in their teams. The object is to make your team bigger. You chant "red rover, red rover, send so and so (from the other team) on over!" So and so had to let go, sprint full speed towards the other side, and try to break through (if the person was coming at you, you had to pull your arm taut). If you managed to separate their arms, you got to go back to your team and take one of their team members with you. Otherwise, you joined the line. After a couple kids broke their arms (and noses... sometimes people got a shoulder to the nose), they got rid of that game...
Children's games are violent.
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In High School a year back some guy dumped on the floor in the boys toilet.
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My reception class teacher had this obsession with making sure the colour pencils were meticulously arranged in the pencil pot so that each one was pointing straight up. She also sharpened them every morning until they were sharp like knives.*
One day, this kid, Jamie places his hand gently over the pot an everybody said he was brave. He dared my to do it, so I firmly placed my hand on the pot so the pencils were visibly pushing in. I was officially braver.
So this kid jamie slams his fist down on my hand and pencils stuck in it and I bled rather a lot and he got shouted at. I either got several plasters and went back to class, or I got several plasters and went home. I don't remember. He didn't really get 'punished' for it, he just got yelled at in his seat and told that it was wrong.
*You could toss them at a dartboard, they'd probably go right through it.
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That's terrible!!! Kids used to pick on me a lot, but I never got REALLY hurt. Just a few hair pulls and pushes to the ground. I was the typical red-headed, freckled, pigtail braided, thick glasses, chunky kid. And my mother dressed me funny. As in, worse than other parents dressed their kids.... so bad... *shudder*
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I have scars! Small ones, and the stories behind them aren't actually all that cruel, but still, they're there.
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So in sixth grade when we were all like, four feet tall, one of the teachers was of a "diminutive stature". So those of us that had developed out of the being nervous around girls phase started hitting on her.
Blah blah blah, she got engaged last month, blah blah blah, you're cute, but Paco's cuter, blah...
One time she brought her fiancé to the class. One kid started hitting on her again before heading out to recess. This guy grabs the teacher, and has a nice wet make-out with his woman in front of like, four kids that were still there.
Next week, we lost the hottest teacher ever.
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Oh man, games.
British Bulldog (no idea why it was called that, but that was its name) ment, run from one side of a field to the other, with a randomly chosen person in the middle. The goal, was to lift someone off the ground, who then had to help you catch the other people. Last person still running wins, and has to be the first-catcher for the next round.
Rushing through a group of people who are desperately trying to grab onto your body -> win.
It was also best played in a full contact/anything-that-doesnt-hurt-other-people-is-allowed fashion :D
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I fucking loved British Bulldogs. We always used to have to change the name in our school because occasionally a younger kid would run onto the field where we were playing at get knocked over and the game would be banned. When the teachers pulled us up for playing it when it was banned we would just give them the false name. We thought we were so smart doing that.
We used to pretend to play rugby as well, but it was a variation on rugby. One person had the ball and everyone else ran after them, the aim of the game was to keep the ball as long as possible. Usually just ended up with one person at he bottom of a huge pile.
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And red rover! Two groups of kids... the groups can be anywhere from five to fifty (but they have to be even)... hold hands in their teams. The object is to make your team bigger. You chant "red rover, red rover, send so and so (from the other team) on over!" So and so had to let go, sprint full speed towards the other side, and try to break through (if the person was coming at you, you had to pull your arm taut). If you managed to separate their arms, you got to go back to your team and take one of their team members with you. Otherwise, you joined the line.
Yay Red Rover! I love that game. We still play occasionally and I have to say, it's a lot more violent when you're older, because the guys are stronger and (most) girls are less wimpy. The last time I played, one of the guys is basically a monkeynijajackinthebox and any time he was called, instead of running though, he'd jump on the arms of the people he wanted to get through. Usually, they let go once they saw him jump up in the air, but a few didn't. We had several bruised people by the end of it. SOOOOO fun.
Did anyone else play Heads Up 7-Up? You have a few people up front, but then everyone else puts their heads on their desks. The few would go around and tap someone and when they were done, the tapped people had to guess who tapped them. If they guessed wrong, they were out, but if they guessed right, they took a tapper's place and the original tapper was out. This was fun to a 5th grader, I don't know if would still be now like RR.
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Aye but we called it heads down thumbs up, and if you got tapped you put your thumbs down and the rest of the rules are the same. It got boring by 1st year of high school.
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The game that was the bane of my high school experience was called "Big Base". Basically it was just kickball that could be played in the gym, using the big fold-up wrestling/exercise mats as our bases. So anyway, it's like kickball except that you can have as many people as you want on any of the bases except for first. So, how do I play this game? I kick the ball as hard as I can (Which is relatively far actually, I managed to get at least two "home runs" --meaning you kicked it over a painted line on the wall, but not as high as the ceiling, during my senior year), walk to first base. Wait to run to second base. And then I stand there. For the rest of the game.
It really worked quite well for me, beacuse my friend (if on my team) would stop and chat with me as we were both anti-athletics. If she was on the opposite team, she would play second base and we would talk then. ...No one really liked us as the only games we -would- play were Hockey and badmitton. I would play vollyball and occasionally basketball. I think our gym teacher, though frequently annoyed with us, found us amusing though.
I could tell the story about the time i got slapped by my former best friend, but I tell that story all the time. I'm sure it's already here somewhere.
I CAN however tell this story: I was in my Legal Issues class, and somehow we were VERY off topic, talking about rather morbid defects we all had, like broken legs, weird joints, etc etc... Well, one of the seniors (I was a junior) in the class gets kind of queasy from that kind of thing. Basically, just as one of the girls was describing how her knee has this weird little popping point in it, he DROPS OUT OF HIS CHAIR and starts seziuring! I had never seen Stutzman (my teacher) move faster then he did that day. Stutzman shoves the chairs around Chad (who sezuired) out of the way and one of the other guys rushes out of the room to get the Principal. The rest of the class is sent to the library until Chad is gotten out of the room and sent to the hospital. THe next day, Chad is just kind of mortified and Stutzman promises we won't talk about that kind of stuff ever again. It was sorta scary when it happened, but it turned out all good.
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A popular 'game' in my school was the one where you take it in turn to hit eachother, double the number of blows each time.
I hit you once.
You hit me twice.
I hit you four times.
By the time we got past 100,000 we quit.
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We played one a bit like that called knuckles. Played with two people each person takes it in turns to rap their knuckles off the top of the other persons hand (held in a fist). The first person to give up loses. Me and my friend played it for an hour straight once, our hands were blue in the morning, we both agreed that it was a draw.
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ah, we call that "Bloody Knuckles" up here.
I suck at that game, so i don't play it. My younger sister and my sister like to play it when they are bored. My younger sister is best at it.
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We had a game where you pressed your knuckles into the desk and somebody shot 2 pence pieces into them from the opposite side. You'd take it in turns.
It was called 'Knuckle Fuckers' because of the insane cuts some people would get.
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The shit? That makes it too easy to cheat.
'Nah, that was a pretend swing.'
'So was that.'
'That one too.'
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The Koreans at our school brought this crazy version of RPS.
You hold the other person's left hand in yours in a fist. The winner of the round of RPS slaps the loser's hand as hard as possible.
End result: huge, swollen, purple/blue-spotted hands.
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I used to love playing knuckle fuckers. I am fairly certain that's not what we called it, but game is the same. My friends and I would play "Hits," where you go around and punch eachother once as hard as you can in the shoulder. Whoever gives up first is the loser. We had spectacular bruises.
In middle school, I had no friends. I would read during break and lunch. Our school was small enough that it was very easy to find an empty table to sit at by yourself. There were these two girls (Andrea and Katie - damn them to hell) who used to pick on me daily. They would slam my head against the lockers, shove crap in my locker (there were no locks on them), tell lies about me to the head of school, laugh at me, and all around make my life miserable. So, 8th grade rolls around, and I'm starting to get a head on my shoulders. A rumor had started going around the school that Andrea and Katie were drinking in the bathroom. I popped my head into the lady's room, and sure enough, there they were with a bottle of Jack. I chilled out in the computer lab across the hall and waited for them to come out. I followed them to the edge of the woods and watched them try to light the woods on fire. While it was raining. A little birdie tipped off the middle-school head, and they were expelled by the next day.
In 10th grade, I had a crap english teacher/advisor/upper-school head. Her name was Ms. Pont. (She referred to herself as the "Pontessa.") Words can not express how much I hated the pompous ass of a woman. She got very upset at me during english class when I would correct her on her grammar and spelling (which happened a lot). One day, she was just being her pretentious self, and it was getting on my nerves, and on the nerves of my friend Ashton. The two of us, during lunch (while she was teaching an AP class), went to the lower foyer, grabbed a huge wooden fish statue, carried it up the stairs and through the media center, and propped it up in her chair behind her desk in her office. We then planted ourselves in the media center to wait for the impending explosion when she found it. Sure enough, she walked into her office halfway through class. We heard, "What the fucking hell?!" and then saw her run out into the media center, look around with a frenzied gleam in her eye, and run down the stairs to the commons. We were never ratted out, so she could never prove it was us. But she knew. Other teachers (who hated her as much as we did) saw us carrying the fish didn't say anything.
Oh the joys of little private schools.
In 11th grade, I switched to a public school. There was one girl, Carla, who was one of those "I hate gays and blacks and anyone who isn't like me" girls. She was all ready to be friends with me until I told her that I wouldn't go to church with her and her family. After that, she decided she hated me with a passion. Now keep in mind, by 11th grade, I was done putting up with shit from other students. I could actually stand up for myself by then. So, to get at me, Carla started going after my gay friend Thomas. She would go up to him in the hallways and call him nasty names and threaten to hurt him. Thomas would tell me about it later on in the day, and it would really make me mad. After school, we both had the same place we went to go have a smoke before various afterschool activties. (I had tennis, theater, or GSA (Gay-Straight Alliance). She had FBLA (Future Business Leaders of America) or FCA (Fellowship of Christian Athletes).) I walked up to Carla, cold-cocked her in the jaw, and explained to her that she wasn't going to pick on Thomas any more. As I was walking away, she grabbed me by the throat and put me into a head-lock. It was a clumsy one (because she was a stupid bitch who didn't know how to fight) so I just elbowed her in the solar plexus and kept walking away. She stopped picking on Thomas after that.
Wow that was a longer post than I had intended. I have all kinds of stories from grade school.
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We called that Russian knuckles, no idea where the name came from. I never played it cause it really does fuck your knuckles up. Sometimes people would end up bleeding all over the place.
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In secondary school we stopped playing games like those and just started straight up fighting.
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My Freshman year in high school I had the craziest most entertaining teacher I would ever have. He taught Civics and Geography, two subjects that are not always the most interesting. However, Mr. Roeber managed to keep them from getting too stale. He liked to jump up on the stool and use a giant pointer as a conductors wand pointing at people to demand answers, some people hated him for this because he did tend to put you on the spot. There are two specific things I will never forget that he did while I was in his class.
First: He was a stickler for the rules and one that the school had just passed that year or the previous one was to ban the wearing of baggy pants. What this meant wasn't exactly clear but if your pants were hanging off your ass your would probably get harassed. My school had students for office aides they would go around and collect attendence sheets and do other things for a period. Well, the office aide that came by my class always wore his pants a little low and Mr. Roeber would give him crap about it pretty much every day. The one day Mr. Roeber asked the kid why his pants were so low.
"They're too big for me," replies the kid.
"Why don't you wear a belt?"
"I am wearing a belt"
"Why don't you tighten it a notch or two?"
"It's at the tightest notch."
"Let me see that," says Mr. Roeber. So the kid lifts his shirt to show his belt which is on the tightest notch. "I can fix that," Mr. Roeber says. He then proceeds to have the kid take off his belt and make sure to hold his pants up properly. Roeber then takes a screw driver from his desk and uses it to punch a new notch in the belt, hitting the screw driver with a book. He then has the kid put the belt on and makes sure it holds his pants up at the proper level.
Second: We were having a study hall at the beginning of the second semester and everyone was told to do work for another class, read a book, write, or do something else that did not involve talking. So all of us students were dutifully sitting quietly and focusing on something else. Mr. Roeber was at the back of the room stapling some stuff together and you could hear that he was having some problems. Bang Bang...mumble mumble...Bang Bang. Then all of a sudden something went whizzing from the back of the room to crash against the black board at the front. He had just chucked the stapler from his desk and destroyed it. Mr. Roeber then went on a diatribe about how the school district bought nothing but cheap junk and could save a ton of money if they would just buy more expensive staplers and other products that would last longer than six months. I don't think he threatened to burn the building down but it wouldn't have surprised me.
The reaction of all the students to these episodes was absolute silence followed by internal commitments to never cross Mr. Roeber.
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the guy that whipped had a really rough-textured, stiff towel, and somehow he managed to wrap it between the other guys' legs from behind, and actually managed to whip his balls. The guy just collapsed. He went home from school that day, and when he came back the day after he told us he'd gotten a bruise that bled from it.
Aaaaah, I don't even have -balls- but that makes me hurt just thinking about it. Sooo glad I was born a girl all of a sudden.
Anyway, another story about the stupidity of my classmates: We were cooling down after a bit of running by stretching in the gym floor or something...when all of a sudden one of my classmates by the nickname "Boomer" (so named because apparently he had slept around aplenty before he moved to our town, even though we were only like 7th graders) walked up to one of the teachers, CHOKING ON A FIREBALL (as in the candy, sillies). Apparently whilst we had been running, the idiot hadn't spit out his candy and ended up swallowing it, except it was to big to swallow so it was lodged in his throat. My Gym teacher attempted the hiemlich, and I think he got it out, but they still had to call and ambulence and take him to the hospital. After that year, we never saw him -again-. He became homeschooled and actually lived a few trailers down from my best friend in the trailer park.
I shall have to find the notebook with all of the stupid quotes from another classmate. She had a habit of asking dumb questions such as, "Did girls in the middle ages wear bras?" and "Wow, these civil war guys were brave --do you think any of them still live around here?" Aaaaaah!!!
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You think that's bad? There was this girl in the honors program at my high school. She was a junior at the time, and she actually asked the question, "When I laugh, is it my uterus that hurts?" and she was serious.
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We had to build and launch these rockets once. Instead of attaching streamers to the rocket, my partner and i attached a parachute so it'd float around aimlessly. And we also glued some smokebombs to the side and wired them to the fuse.
And then when we were outside in this goose-shit-filled-field, waiting for our turn to launch the rocket, my partner suddenly grabbed a fistful of goose shit and shoved it into the rocket.
The shit kind of melted and burned and started dripping out and as the rocket started to land it pretty much rained shit.
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I was the shortest kid in my class until sixth grade and got shit-kicked and picked on quite frequently for both that and the fact that I wore glasses. Basically the only good story I can remember from those days is the very day I decided to start standing up for myself, spat in the face of one of my tormentors, and swung madly at him. I probably didn't hurt him that much, but I landed a couple of good ones and got in trouble. He stopped messing with me , at least.
I was a very unhappy child.
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When I was in the 3rd grade I was playing at recess under one of those big dome jungle gym things, and this girl in my class was on top of it, on the outside, and she swung down from the highest part and kicked me right in the fucking mouth. It chipped one of my front teeth and two of my bottom teeth. (But the baby teeth had already fallen out, so I was stuck with those ones) Eventually part of the top tooth broke off and now half of it's fake. Fun. Bitch ended up going through all of middle school with me and pretended it never happened.
I also remember once in high school, a classmate in my chemistry class played a prank on the teacher and left one of those fake dog poop piles on his desk...the teacher comes in, looks at it, and says, "That's a really shitty joke." I loved that teacher.
And this isn't mine, but it happened to my dad and it's probably one of the funniest stories he's ever told, so I'll share it with you. When he was in grade school he attended a Catholic school taught by nuns, the badass habit-wearing ones from the late 50s/60s. Anyway, he's probably about 8 years old, sitting in the back of English class one day, and he farts really loudly. The nun asks who did it, and he doesn't fess up, but one of his classmates rats him out. So the nun calls my dad up to the front of the class, where she lectures him and then tells him to go back to his seat. When he turns around to walk away, she says to him "You have the backbone of a jelly fish!" and without even turning around, he just keeps on walking but wiggles his whole body like a fish...and the nun grabs the chalkboard eraser and chucks it at him, and hits him square in the shoulders, chalk dust flies everywhere and now he's got this big white rectangle mark on the back of his uniform...I'm pretty sure he never did that again. Funny as balls.
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i had a health teacher who was an extremely obese and angry lady. nobody liked her.
during our sex-ed unit she went into great detail describing the taste of semen and what it's like to swallow it and how it's not bad for you to swallow etc. etc.
needless to say it was something that no-one wanted to hear from her.
she was notorious for giving too much information. shortly after that she got divorced, changed her name (which confused us alot), then refused to stop giving us updates on the status of her and her internet boyfriend. she even attempted to give us the "steamy" details of when they finally got together in person but we stopped her before she got too into it. ughhh...it was terrifying.
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Ah. My health/P.E. teacher was sort of like that...
In my best friend's health class, one of the girls asked if it was OK to swallow, and she apparently informed everyone in class that -she- swallowed, but it was up to the girl on wether or not she wanted to do it.
...I have never involuntarily shuddered as much as I did the day that my friend had to inform me of that statement. Ick!
It's bad enough thinking that she has sex, much less that she still goes down on her husband. Uuuuuuugh.
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My friends and I would play "Hits," where you go around and punch eachother once as hard as you can in the shoulder. Whoever gives up first is the loser. We had spectacular bruises.
We called it metal arm, rules were exactly the same. No one would play me :-(
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you people and your violent games! i played patty-cake! well, i did when someone would play with me. most people wouldn't because i was a loser.
true story: in second grade all the kids refused to drink from the water fountain after i drank from it because it had "MaiAda germs". the guy who started the whole thing was named sam. he was one of the cool kids so he teased me a lot. he once told somebody that i was gross right in front of my face and that made me really upset.
in middle/high school i disappeared for several years because i switched to public school. when i came back to the private school system sam told one of my friends that he thought i was hot and was thinking of asking me out. he never did, but i kind of wish he had so i could have laughed in his face.
(although i probably would not have actually laughed in his face because i'm not mean enough.)
basically, what i am trying to say is that when i was little i was a big dork and grade school was not very fun.
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When I was in highschool we devised a game that was essentially just people being tackled. The aim was to throw a frisbee around and we all had to crash tackle and pile up on whomever was holding the frisbee so it was best to throw it to someone else when you caught it (because if someone threw it at you you had to catch it). We even managed to take our case to the principal when a teacher on duty tried to ban it because three other teachers thought it was awesome.
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Junior high lunch room, my friends and I are sitting together (duh) and all of a sudden an open carton of chocolate milk comes flying across from somewhere, spewing chocolate milk mostly on my friend John. We look around, and two tables over is this guy named Scott looking right at us and laughing his ass off. Scott is one of the popular crowd; we are the losers. There are pretty girls sitting with Scott and his friends, and now they're all laughing at us.
John is not a very big guy, but he's totally fearless and never loses his cool. He got up, went and bought a chocolate milk, opened it as he walked over to the popular kids' table, and calmly poured the entire contents on Scott's head. "Not laughing now, are you, ASSHOLE?!" he shouts at him. And indeed he was not.
John then walked back to our table, to a round of applause from about half the lunchroom. Scott was in the popular crowd, but he was an asshole, and a lot of people really hated him.
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I also went to a catholic school, and as an intelligent but arrogant student I got up to all sorts of hi-jinks. Even worse my mum was a respected figure on the PTA, she got things done for them even while raising two kids and holding down a job as a single mother (fuck knows how) but she was not catholic and was not afraid to speak her mind about issues to the head teacher, this got me and my sister (grade A student working 2 years ahead of the class in english and maths) into no end of trouble with said head teacher. Every "fight" I got into (Even the few times I just got beaten up by older kids) it was my fault and I started it, I was a troublemaker. A few times some cunt had pissed me off so yeah, I popped them one in the jaw but I never broke somebodys arm or anything. Anyway one time I had had enough, the bitch drove a convertable (I think it was a BMW) a red one, so for the next three years, more than once I snuck into the car park and pissed on the driver side door handle.
Today I have told NOBODY about this, you guys are the first.
Thanks mum.
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I remember in Middle-School walking down the hallway to a morning class and seeing a big ol' piece of poop staring up at me. It was pretty disgusting, but also pretty funny. I actually remember it happening twice. Man, I went to a really classy middle school.
SCHOOL GAMES:
Bloody Knuckles: Flicking pennies at each other's knuckles. I played this once, and then saw the cuts and said fuck that. Highly popular in middle-school at lunch tables.
Punch-for-Punch: As the name indicates, I hit you, you hit me. Whoever says "I give" first loses. Only started being popular in late middle-school but is still sometimes played today. Usually played by the low self-esteem kids who want to prove that they're 'tough'.
Knuckles: Line your knuckles up, the person that starts is determined by the flip of a coin. The object of the game is to come down on the other person with your middle-knuckles until they quit. If they evade your swing your turn is forfeit. If you get the other person to move their fist from your's five times, by either flinching your hand or twisting it, you get a free swing. You aren't allowed to move at all during these. If you do, the person gets another free-swing, so take it like a man.
Wrestling: This is pretty self-explanatory. You fucking wrestle until the other person taps. I didn't really participate in these when I was younger, because of being a very scraggy boy, and having all big friends. My biggest triumph in wrestling was 2 years ago when I was 14, wrestling a kid who was about 5'9"170lbs~.. I was a much smaller 5'5" 110lbs.
Red Rover: The chain game with the broken arms.
British Bull-Dog: I can't 100% remember how this went, but I remember two teams lining up on opposite sides, and it being extremely fun.
Tackle-Tag: It was like tag, except, you had to fucking take the person to the ground. At one point we had a rule that if you forced yourself to the ground the person who was 'it' got to kick you as punishment for being such a bitch. This game was fucking rad. I always hated being 'it' though.
When we were REALLY young, like maybe kindergarten, there was this game called 'cyclone' where we'd grab a pole and run around it at a fast-pace as we could until everyone fell off. Whoever was hanging on last won. I can only vaguely remember this one.
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so for the next three years, more than once I snuck into the car park and pissed on the driver side door handle.
hahahaha thats brilliant, nice work. You should have taken a dump on it the day before you left school, that would have gone down in history.
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We played a game that was a combination of blackjack and knuckles when we were on a school trip once. Whoever drew the highest got a rap on the knuckles, not from a fish, but from this huge big jelly fish sweet thing. We called it jelly fish. I kept on drawing at stupid points. I think I may have been trying to impress a girl. LOOK AT ME I AM AN IDIOT KISS ME PLEASE.
The next day my hand had swollen up to approximately three times its normal thickness. We didn't play again.
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In my best friend's health class, one of the girls asked if it was OK to swallow, and she apparently informed everyone in class that -she- swallowed, but it was up to the girl on wether or not she wanted to do it.
Some girl, who was a skank, asked this to my health teacher once. Only my teacher was a guy. A very attractive, young guy. She made him blush. He said she could if she wanted to, because it wouldn't hurt her, and she said, "Good, my boyfriend thinks it's gross when I spit." I wanted to dig a pit and bury myself in it after this conversation.
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In first year at high school we played a ridiculous game. It was basically everyone got a stick, formed 2 teams and then hit each other with the sticks until lunchtime was finished. I'm never even sure if there was a winner. It was the cause of a big fallout between me and my best friend cause i hit him a wee bit to hard cause the teams were really un-even. Don't think we played it again after that.
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Ah, this thread reminds me how much I hated elementary school and middle school. So much. High school was slightly better, and unfortunately any interesting stories I can remember come from high school, save one.
I never really fought in school, I was and always have been a pretty docile person. However, I hit other students exactly twice, and got away with it both times. The first time was in middle school, 7th grade methinks. There were group of boys in my homeroom class that had been harassing me all year long. It was towards the end of the year and we were cleaning out our lockers. While I was "cleaning" my out (I never kept much of anything in my lockers except books and my backpack) they were throwing stuff. This appeared to have been the back-breaking straw. Without thinking, I got up and backhanded one of these boys. Our teacher was around the corner, so I suppose she didn't see, but he did yell out, "YOU BITCH.". Unfortunately, this didn't stop the teasing right away, but at that point I did not care. I was never disciplined for that, that I know of. Maybe there's a sticker on my permanent record? "Pimpslapped Someone"
The second time was in 10th grade. There were this group of idiots that I just could not fucking stand. They seemed to love to pick on this one kid, who in retrospect had some sort of disorder; I suspect autism. He wasn't exactly stupid, but he had absolutely no social sense (and those are not light words, coming from me). Anyway, during the last day of this class (IPC, i.e., Integrated Physics and Chemistry. Advanced science for stupid people.) they were playing keep-away. With all of the running around, I just got fucking irritated, and I smacked one of those idiots in the head with my lunchbox. Now it wasn't a metal lunchbox; I just wanted to get this guy's attention and send a message. However, somehow, I managed to make him bleed just a little bit. It's still a mystery to me. Our teacher (who was there the whole time) said nothing, notified no one, and just dabbed the guy's head with a paper towel. It was kind of awesome.
Next year, he was in my English class. Now in that English class, which was pretty much worthless but had an AWESOME teacher (don't you hate those?) me and two others formed something of a "posse." A severely lame posse, but there you go. That poor boy kept trying to insinuate himself into our circle of friends, but constantly joking about Nazis, or the Soviets, making fun of someone's name or my weight are not ways to endear yourself to people. I still kind of felt bad about how I treated him, because I could tell he wasn't quite right, somehow.
What else... ah yes. My sister was friends with a pair of twins (one male, one female). Now they were adopted by a teacher at the school. I didn't know this teacher, as she taught a sophomore level and I was a freshman. The first time I saw was during my sister's birthday party. We initially planned to have it at our house, but my grandparents had a much bigger pool, so we moved it there. When the two finally showed up, they couldn't have been there more than two hours when their furious mother drove up and snatched them back. She said nothing to anyone else. Guess who I had for 10th grade geography? Her. She absolutely loved me. But then again, I was a teacher's pet.
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In school we all played Sex Jenga (http://quiki.net/wiki/Sex_Jenga).
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Funniest thing. EVER.
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My Freshman year of High School my biology teacher, Miss Harvey, was a complete bitch. About halfway through the first term, my friend Sara finished a test early, and then doodled "Free Kevin! www.kevinmitnick.com" in the margin of one of the pages. The teacher returned the test with a huge red circle around it, and remarks along the line of "DON'T WRITE ON YOUR TESTS!!!" For the rest of the year, I wrote "Free Kevin! www.kevinmitnick.com" in the margin of every single page of every assignment, quiz, or test I turned in. She kept threatening to give me a zero the "next time" I did it, and I kept calling her bluff. Sophomore year I no longer had here as a teacher, but every time I saw her in the halls I smiled at her and said "Free Kevin". I kept this up until early in my Junior Year I was finally called into the assistant principal's office and essentially told that although he didn't really care, if I kept doing it I would get in trouble for "harassment" because otherwise Miss Harvey would keep pestering him about it. About three days later I saw my friend Kevin at the end of the hall and Miss Harvey walking toward me. Unable to resist I shouted down the hall "Hey KEVIN! What is your FREE period today?" I ended up getting assigned two hours of community service, which I never did.
Also during my Junior year I had a history teacher I despised, whose name was Mr. Yank. He constantly ignored my friends and I, drove us crazy, we hated him, and near the end of the year the following occurred: It was the day of the AP Physics test, and my friend Matt and I were NOT in the mood to put up with any bullshit. We had gotten a test back and Matt went up to debate one of Mr. Yank's rulings on a question. Mr. Yank completely ignored him, and finally Matt just says, loud enough for the whole classroom to go silent, "You BITCH!". Jade, a girl Matt often made fun of, who was up by the front of the classroom as well, goes "Hey!" and Matt responds "I wasn't talking to you, I was talking to Mr. Yank!" He then walks back to his desk, grabs his backpack, and walks out of class with me right behind him. Matt's parents get called in and Matt ends up getting sent OUT of the principal's office while his dad got in a shouting match with Mr. Yank. Matt got suspended for a day, and I got assigned two hours of community service, which I never did.
My Senior year I was in the assistant principal's office for a non-disciplinary matter, and I glanced curiously at a stack of papers behind him. He smiles and proudly tells me that those are the community service slips for the previous year, and that out of over 700 that were given out, all but nine were completed. I'm pretty sure that he misinterpereted my meaning when I told him that that was "very nice."
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British Bull-Dog: I can't 100% remember how this went, but I remember two teams lining up on opposite sides, and it being extremely fun.
In Britain we just call this Bulldog.
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Karen Ellis, my Health, PE and Dance elective teacher went to jail for having sex with a boy in my year level in Year 10 (4 years ago). It made headlines.
http://www.smh.com.au/news/National/Tearful-teacher-jailed-for-sex-with-boy-15/2005/05/05/1115092602035.html (http://www.smh.com.au/news/National/Tearful-teacher-jailed-for-sex-with-boy-15/2005/05/05/1115092602035.html)
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The best kind of pedophile.
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Actually, it was a major pain in the ass when we weren't allowed to go to the shops across the road from school at lunch for weeks because of the goddamn "media". I mean, hell. The news had already falsely reported that it happened in Eltham, NOT Macleod.
And canteen food is crap :(
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About halfway through the first term, my friend Sara finished a test early, and then doodled "Free Kevin! www.kevinmitnick.com" in the margin of one of the pages.
Pretty much unrelated, but it reminded me. During my junior year, this kid who was a trumpet player in the band streaked at the spring pep assembly. All sorts of fun. The assistant principal ended up tackling him on the pavement just outside the gym because apparently his getaway car didn't show up on time, or something. The kid (whose name escapes me at the moment) was expelled, not for the general act of the streak, but because he ran right in front of the special ed kids. You know, the ones that sit in their wheelchairs and don't do anything but stare blankly. After his expulsion everyone who knew the kid would carry around signs saying "Free Whats-his-name". I think he ended up coming back a year later.
The fact that he was expelled for streaking really confused me, because just a year before, a fight broke out in the hallway right in front of me between these two girls, and one bitch pulled a knife and shanked the other one. The girl who did the shanking was suspended for three days.
Go figure.
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British Bull-Dog: I can't 100% remember how this went, but I remember two teams lining up on opposite sides, and it being extremely fun.
In Britain we just call this Bulldog.
Go-Figure
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we used to have a game called rambo. one guy was rambo and tried to tackle as many kids as possible. those who were tackled, became rambo, and it would be like last man standing. fun in the mud.
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I miss scarecrow tiggy.
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In grade 8, all the guys (pretty much every single male) would play foot ball in front of the school, on what was actually to be the soccer pitch. My school had the typical no bodily contact, but they tolerated us playing touch foot ball. One day at lunch, we got the idea of actually playing tackle. Me being the largest guy in the school, I received a pass and started running. It took 4 people hanging off me to pull me down, momentum kept me going and i got a nice green pant leg. I lied to my teacher, and mother saying I slipped.
Thinking back, I kind of did slip, but I had help of 4 other people.
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Yeah, when I played tackle football with my friends I was the tank of the team, noone could bring me down if I braced for impact. I was heavy with a low-slung center of gravity. Of course playing like that got my leg broken, but meh
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I was always the only girl to play football with the guys at lunch. This went all the way from 6th grade to 10th. We always played tackle football, even though we told the teachers we were only playing touch. They didn't really care, the only thing they had a problem with was that we got our uniforms dirty. It was a lot of fun. Of course, this is how I broke my spine... If it had broken even a centimeter more, I would have ended up paralyzed from the waist down. But I loved playing football.
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Yeah, when I played tackle football with my friends I was the tank of the team, noone could bring me down if I braced for impact. I was heavy with a low-slung center of gravity. Of course playing like that got my leg broken, but meh
This was me and my friend Leanne. I think it took 5 to pull her down, even though she's a bit smaller than I am, and 4 to get me, because one guy wrapped himself around my legs, which is a lot easier to do than jumping on my back, like most people were trying to do. Luckily we never broke anything, but we both had some major bruises. But of course, we tackled other people too and the other side didn't last as long. Heh.
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When I was in middle school I apprently bumped into another girl in the lunch line and she took this as me "touching her butt." The alpha female of their little group yelled at me very loudly about how me being a lesbian does not mean I could just touch other girls butts. Unfortunately, I wasn't a lesbian, but I had short hair, which is the same thing for some people.
Anyways, apparently the rumor spread behind my back because a month later in science class a very large (tall, bulky, and viking like, not fat) girl sat next to me and passed me a note that read: "You are going to be my lesbian partner, ok?" I remember spending at least 5 minutes considering what interesting things could occur if I said "Ok," before deciding to just write "No."
Some people still think I'm a lesbian.
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Yeah, I liked having short hair when I was younger, so that misconception happened to me, too.
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The Koreans at our school brought this crazy version of RPS.
You hold the other person's left hand in yours in a fist. The winner of the round of RPS slaps the loser's hand as hard as possible.
End result: huge, swollen, purple/blue-spotted hands.
Oh yeah I played that a lot back in Korea. Only we weren't slapping the loser's hand, we would whip the inside of their wrist (y'know, the spot where emo kids slit their wrists) using our extended index and middle fingers.
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Yeah, ours was the inside of the wrist, too. Except you didn't hold hands while playing. And you got to proffer your wrist to make it that much easier for them to hit you.
Some fuckers lick their fingers before they do it.
We also had this game where you got to have your ears boxed a lot. I don't really remember what it was about... but I remembering the ringing for days afterwards. g'ah.
Oh, and there's the hand slapping game. One person holds their hands facing up, and the other positions their hands just above them, facing down. They don't have to be touching, but you usually play where they're just touching. The person on the bottom moves their hands and slaps the person's on top.. unless the top person moves fast enough out of the way. If you hit the top person, you get to keep going. If you miss, you switch. And if the top person moves their hands out of the way and the bottom didn't move their hands to slap (false alarm, shit), you get a free slap where they aren't allowed to move.
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I always sucked at that game, and yet I played it ridiculously often.
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My friend is ridiculously good at that game. I remember someone playing him and he got them so much their hand started swelling up and they didn't get him once. Was painful to watch.
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I would always play about 1 round, then get too irritated because I sucked, and gave up.
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i was in year 9 in 1999. not a good year for schools after colombine. so here i am in an Australian Public School on the monday after Valentines day and i notice there's a LOT of people away. Apparently what had happened is one kid when balls crazy and threatened a Valentines Day Massacre on the previous friday. a good three quaters of the student body took the day off (half because they were afraid of getting shot accidentally, the others were genuine tools and deserved to get shot) and the rest assumed (quite correctly) that he'd never go through with it. i was the only one who had no idea about the threat
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There was one girl in 3rd or 4th grade that used to kick me in the nuts all the time (I don't remember how provoked these sessions were. Pain does that to my memory.).
I saw her in the fabric store yesterday and she apologized and gave me her number.
Three cheers for stylish earring and mustache!
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In first year at high school we played a ridiculous game. It was basically everyone got a stick, formed 2 teams and then hit each other with the sticks until lunchtime was finished. I'm never even sure if there was a winner. It was the cause of a big fallout between me and my best friend cause i hit him a wee bit to hard cause the teams were really un-even. Don't think we played it again after that.
What a tool.
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Yeah it was a pretty shit game. I often look back at those days and think that was pretty fucking retarded.
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I was suspended from high school 3 times... twice in year 8 and once in year 12.
The first time, a girl kept pushing me around, and when I pushed back, a teacher saw, and we got sent to the year level co-ordinator's office. Both of us got 1 day suspensions, but we were friends by the end of the day. (I went to her engagement party a month ago.)
5 months later, I was having a really shit day, and my friend Rhiannon's younger brother Tristan was getting in my personal space as he did all the frickin' time, and I ended up slapping him really hard, and left a nice hand print on his cheek. I dobbed myself in, but i still ended up getting susupended. (1 day.)
I managed to stay out of trouble for the rest of my time at Macleod College, but I changed schools in Year 12 and ended up at my younger sister's high school. She was known for not giving a rat's ass about whether she got into trouble for pounding the shit out of someone, but anyway.. She was friends with this one girl, who's older sister Jenna decided that I was a good target for her hatred. FOr the most part, I ignored her, but in the few weeks leading up to the end of the year, I snapped, and just didnt put up with her teasing and bullshit. The teachers just ignored the situation, which pretty much gave Jenna licence to bully me further, then my little sister and her little sister got it in their heads that it would be a perfect idea to try and get Jenna and I to be friends. I yelled a lot and they didnt try that again. But my sister was mad at me for some reason.
Then after one time Jenna was giving me shit, one of her friends came up to me and told me that she was pregnant, so that may have been why she was being such a bitch. I flet sorry for her, and I was on pretty ok terms with her younger sister, so I asked. And after we spoke, she said she wouldnt tell Jenna. The next day in homeroom, shit really hit the fan, and Jenna demanded to know why I'd asked her sister if she was pregnant. I said that someone had told me and I wanted to know if she was okay, and then she started cursing and yelling at me, so I stormed out. Then she followed me around the corner near the principal's office, and I turned around and put up arms in front of me in self defence and accidentally pushed her a tiny bit. She grabbed me by the hair, and started belting my head into a conveniently placed ledge (why I didnt end up dying from head injuries, I'll never know). I just kept kicking her in the legs repeatedly because even though I despised the bitch, her kid didnt need to suffer.
They year level co-ord came out of her office demanding we stop it, and get into her office, NOW! I told her to fuck off, something I'd never ever said to a teacher, and ran off. Jenna and I both got suspended, me for 1 day, and her for 3. Later, the principal called me into his office and said that because he knew I was generally a good kid, the suspension wasnt going on my record (it takes 12 months for something like that to be removed, and can hamper job prospects), but he had to be seen to be doing the "right" thing. After all my years of school, Mr White was my favourite principal ever, because he actually gave a damn about student welfare.
I also got pelted with rocks in year 9 by stupid boys in my class, and funnily enough, I'm friends with them now, 5 years later.
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I was the girl who sat on the side during recess and read too (had no friends in 3rd grade because I moved to a new town over the summer before it started). About 2/3 of the way through my 3rd grade year, my teachers "challenged" me to only read during one recess (we had 2 recesses... snack recess and lunch recess). Every day when I walked into the room, I calculated which recess was longer and read during that one.
In fourth grade I made friends. Everyday, during recess, we played "boys vs girls" which basically consisted of somehow immobilizing everyone of the opposite sex. Once a boy was coming after me and he had a big wide-brimmed felt hat (it was a pilgrim hat. this happened around thanksgiving) that I grabbed off his head and threw like a frisbee. It landed in a puddle and he cried. I felt really bad about it.
Also playing boys vs girls, a boy named oliver grabbed me in a bear hug from behind. I wiggled around trying to get out (nothing sketchy going on. we were in 4th grade) and swung my head around. Unfortunately, my nose hit his very hard shoulder and I got the most spectacular nosebleed. The boy whose hat I threw in november was the person who took me to the nurse. He wanted to take me to our classroom first (on the opposite floor and opposite side of the school from the nurses office) and I totally flipped out at him. I reminded him that I had two hands full of my blood (my hands were cupped around my nose) and if he didn't take me to the nurse I'd throw it at him. He basically dragged me to the nurse. :lol:
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That reminds me, when I was in first grade, I was walking in from recess and I slipped on the ice and hit my fore-head really hard. I rubbed it and saw a bit of blood on my hand, but I didn't feel a bump. On the latter part of my trek to my classroom, I was asked by a kid in a higher grade if I was okay; I just shrugged him off. When I got into class, everyone was making a big fuss about my head, I didn't really understand why until I looked in the mirror. There was a 4 inch radius on my forehead that protruded like a small horn, on the tip of it there was a nasty gash that was at that point a dark-red scab. The teacher then questioned me about how it had happened, sent me to a nurse who checked me for signs of a concussion or something like that, and then sent me home. I played Zelda: Ocarina of Time and ate ice-cream for the rest of the day. My mom made me a root-beer float, too. It was a pretty good day, all in all.
I'd just like to add that I never cried from injuries as a kid. I even broke my wrist in fourth grade and didn't even tear up. I cried about stupid things though, like not being able to go on a sleep-over, or being teased by my brother.
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Some of the most hilarious moments in my grade-school days were when the older kids would steal rare Pokemon cards out of me and my friends backpacks, and then we would send our armies of second graders to attack and get our cards back. Of course, after a few weeks we got Pokemon cards banned at my school, ha. Good times.
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The only real memorable thing to go on during Elementary school was when I was in about 2nd maybe 3rd grade, I had always had a problem with severe ear infections, didn't help my grandmother lived with us and smoked constantly (yes they are linked together). Well my ear infections just progressively got worse and worse as time went on, constantly in the doctors office for it, when one day during P.E. we were all lined up military style doing roll call (sad part of the public school), when my hearing just gave out. Apparently the teacher was calling my name at the time and I was just sitting there completely oblivious since I hadn't even noticed myself. Then he walked up to me as I was sitting and I looked up and saw his mouth moving but nothing coming out, so I turn to the kid next to me and the same thing. The teacher thought I was ignoring him the whole time and pointed to this clock (we had to sit under a huge clock if we were bad), so I go to sit and spend the rest of class there, after which luckily for me my sister had P.E. after me and saw me, so she comes up and realizes what happend, goes to explain the whole situation to my teacher, his jaw just dropped. Later on after going to the hospital to get surgery, and have my ear canal reopened and what not since they had collapsed, once I could hear again he was constantly apologizing to me.
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John is not a very big guy, but he's totally fearless and never loses his cool. He got up, went and bought a chocolate milk, opened it as he walked over to the popular kids' table, and calmly poured the entire contents on Scott's head. "Not laughing now, are you, ASSHOLE?!" he shouts at him. And indeed he was not.
I had something like that, only it was this chick who was pissed at me. It was during 10th grade year, it started in math class, the girl said something rude to me and I told her she looked like a pig. Later during lunch I'm sitting with my friends getting small gifts since it happened to be my birthday, when she walks up and pours my own milk onto me and a new shirt I had just gotten. I just sit there nice and calm my friends just look and dont say anything, I wait till she got seated in her chair with her group of friends. One of the Asst. Principles happens to be watching the whole situation as it is going on. So I get up walk to her table, and just lift the whole thing spilling all the food onto the girls lap. I proceed to walk by the asst. principle and tell him I was going to my locker to get a change of clothes, he just looks at me and says "go ahead its your birthday" and I got off free of any trouble.
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My huge thing when I was a kid was running around naked. I would run out of the house without clothes, pretending to be a bird or Peter Pan or some shit, having an awesome naked time.
My first day of school, my parents had to tie my uniform on me. You can see the rope a little in the pictures, even though it's discrete.
Later in my school career, I would still wear as little clothes as I could get by with. This meant a short skirt rather than a long skirt, shorts rather than pants, all according to regulated uniform of the school. This is because I was a little exhibitionist as a child, I can find no other rationale. It wasn't for comfort - even a Hong Kong winter is freezing when you're not wearing that much fabric. Once a teacher asked me why I wasn't wearing more clothes, and realising how crazy it was that I was not wearing more clothing, I blamed it on my parents - my mom and dad stole all my pants.
That must have seemed super weird, but I was also the kid who was crusading for bug rights on the playground, going around with a jar and saving them from being stepped on.
I had forgotten about that until just now.
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^I did the same thing with bugs. I also preached Christianity and told everyone they were going to Hell.
I'm so glad I grew out of that second one and came to sanity. I still love bugs, though.
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I used to catch bugs and pretend that they were Pokemon and that I was a Pokemon trainer.
It was damned fun. I remember especially loving caterpillars, I wish I could find more caterpillars...
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Seven you'r the type of kid who probably got me beat up in elementary school.
I'd forgotten this story but this brings it up. In fourth grade My parents stopped forcing me to go to church, since I hated Sunday School and the people in it and I hated Church services, and in fact they themselves started going to a place called the Unitarian Universalist Church of Lubbock which is where I first learned about how some people don't believe in God. Well, being the brilliant person that I am at that young and tender age decided that that if there was no Santa Claus or Easter Bunny, and that since I despised sitting still in church or listening to boring stories or singing stupid songs in Sunday School, that there must be no god. So the next Monday I' in school during lunch and I'm talking to my best friend about how I've decided to become an atheist.
Well other kids hear me and several of them know what it is, and they start saying how I'm going to go to hell and all sorts of stuff. One of them tells a teacher (And since this is Lubbock Texas where about 90% of the population is Southern Baptist) she informs the principle who talks to my parents. Well since they can't actually legally do anything and my parents were always awesome for letting us believe what we wanted to believe they had to let it go. But for the rest of that year parents of kids in my grade kept giving their kids Bibles to give to me (which I politely refused) and for the rest of my time in Elementary school a lot of kids wouldn't associate with me, including one kid by the name of Jason who everytime he saw me said "Philip, you're going to hell." A lot of kids actually deemed it part of their Christian duty to beat me up when the teachers weren't looking out of school or during lunch. It was about this time I started taking self-defense classes.
Well once Junior high rolls around I go to a school known for its academic program while most of my classmates at the elementary school, don't. By the time I get to High School in about the 11th grade I've forgotten any of this ever happened, until I hear some guy in the hall one day yell out "Philip, you're going to hell!" Yeah, it was Jason, but at this point its a joke with him, he's actually become agnostic himself, and for the rest of my time as a junior we're pretty good friends. Funny how life turns out.
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Karen Ellis, my Health, PE and Dance elective teacher went to jail for having sex with a boy in my year level in Year 10 (4 years ago). It made headlines.
http://www.smh.com.au/news/National/Tearful-teacher-jailed-for-sex-with-boy-15/2005/05/05/1115092602035.html (http://www.smh.com.au/news/National/Tearful-teacher-jailed-for-sex-with-boy-15/2005/05/05/1115092602035.html)
Holy dang, about 3 years ago we had a teacher named Mr. Ellis who got busted for sexin' up some teenaged girls!
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In high school, there was this one teacher named Ms. Herring (yeah, like the fish) who was absolutely stunning. People argue about what's considered "cute" versus "pretty" versus just plain "hot", but Ms Herring was all three. Beautiful smile, beautiful eyes, and best of all, she was just a really, really nice person. Every hetero male in school was in love/lust with her. So anyway, during Band one time, there's a knock at the door, and our director Mr. Mac, one of the coolest people in the world, yells "Come in!"
In walks Ms. Herring, and it gets absolutely silent in the room. All the guys are just staring, and most of the girls have to admit that she's a very pretty lady, and they can't hate her because she's so nice. She says,
"I've thought about what you asked me, and I've decided to tell you 'Yes, I'll do it.' Just let me know where and when, and if I should wear anything special."
The entire Band Room erupts with "Whoo, Mister Mac!" and countless other congratulatory, insidious things. Ms. H apparently realizes what she's said, and how it sounds, and she turns all red and turns to leave. Mr. M yells (over the noise) "I'll call you, okay?" which only increases the degree of senseless screaming going on. Then he too realizes that it was not something that high schoolers are going to let slide, and he turns red, too.
Eventually (like 10 minutes later, once everyone has calmed down) we learn that Ms. Herring was asked to be the new coach of the Pom Pon Squad, which works directly with the Marching Band. Her answer was 'Yes' and I'm guessing she was wondering if she should maybe change into jeans or something. But it sure didn't sound like that, especially to gutter-minded horny high schoolers.
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Karen Ellis, my Health, PE and Dance elective teacher went to jail for having sex with a boy in my year level in Year 10 (4 years ago). It made headlines.
http://www.smh.com.au/news/National/Tearful-teacher-jailed-for-sex-with-boy-15/2005/05/05/1115092602035.html (http://www.smh.com.au/news/National/Tearful-teacher-jailed-for-sex-with-boy-15/2005/05/05/1115092602035.html)
Holy dang, about 3 years ago we had a teacher named Mr. Ellis who got busted for sexin' up some teenaged girls!
Haha, I wonder if they were related?
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I was the loner kid until highschool because I got shuffled around a bit during most of my school career. Because I hated the public schools, I worked full time in the summers to pay for my tution to attend catholic school. We were by no-means poor, but the extra tuition would have prevented my parents fom finishing their Master's. Because of some school official tool, other kids found out about me paying my own way through school and tormented me. Needless to say, I got in my share of fights.
One time in at my lovely Catholic eighth grade, I got into several fist fights over the course of a day with another boy, this was the second or third day. The whole thing started because he said something about hurting my lil sister. At the end of the day, we were standing about 3 meters apart yelling violent threats at each other. He finally threatened to rape my sister, and I told him that he couldn't get it up, turned on my heel and announced to everyone that he had "Been caught giving Blowjobs to So-and-So by the gym teacher in the lockerroom." A teacher stepped inbetween us and told me to calm down. The guy then went after my sister who was coming over to tell me that our grandmother had shown up to pick us up. I tackled him, with the teacher still standing in front of me. I broke three fingers on his jaw, and give him a real nice shiner. The teacher claimed I broke her nail, and informed me of this everyweek through the end of the year, after which I wrote her an apology card. We were both dragged to the principal, an elderly lady standing at Four foot flat. The kid's dad had shown up to see me give his son the shiner. He was raising holy hell with the principal while I sat out in the hall by myself. My mother was called in, from out of town to pick me up, she couldn't, so my dad did. He had just gotten out of an important meeting. I thought I was in for it, cause I had made him a promise not to fight that year. She "explains" (aka yells at my dad what I did, and how everything was my fault) and then looks at me, I down at her, and yells "We don't use the word BlowJob at this school!" My dad snorts, but maintains a straight face and tells her that I will be punished accordingly. We get to the car, he looks at me and says "Blowjob, eh?" and we laugh the whole way home. The kid showed back up to school a week later, then left forever.
In High School, I got "expelled" for a whole day. I was attending and participating in a school function off-campus. A kid had gone through my backpack and stole over $200 dollars of cash and equipment (a Ti-84 SE and $80 bucks) and trashed a collector's item book my dad had lent to me to read while I was waiting. I got overly pisssed off, and went looking for him. a few minutes later, i calmed down and walked over to the room my mother was in, helping to judge. The kid walks by, flaunting my money, and I snap. I yell at him from across the hall and he takes off running. Some lady walks out and told me to stay where I stood, our coach was called up, and she told him that I had the kid in a chokehold and was pummelling him. I never layed a hand on him, and my mum had heard the yelling and witnessed the whole thing. During my "expelled" day, my mum met with the principal and laid out the events. She reinstated me on the spot. And lucky for me, I was at home, playing video games, avoiding a school mission day.
Then, in my junior year, in my English class, taught by Ms. Herring (not the same one, I assure you), my buddy and I decided to stand up and sing "Bid Balls" by AC/DC while we were supposed to read "The Great Gatsby." That year, I amassed the largest amount of "detentions" in school's history, and I served less than half of them.
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"But We've got the biggest,
Balls of them all!"
You are my hero.
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Dissy, I like you the best.
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In second grade, one of my friends claimed that Green Day had a song called "Dookie" off their album of the same name. Then he sang it. All I can remember is that the first part of the chorus was "Dookie! / Dookie! / I made it on the floor", and one of the verses started with "My wife told me to clean it up / And I told her to eat it". Delightfully puerile.
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I got into a fight with a Sikh kid when I was in 3rd grade. I pulled his headpiece off. I felt so fucking bad about that.
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In 4th grade, we had Track and Field and we had to make our own T&F shirts, and we used fabric paint. We had a little outline to use and stuff, and everyone else had an easy time writing "Masons Mastiffs" on their shirts, and putting their own details on it, then drying it and putting their name on the other side. I, however, had the misfortune of being left handed. As I was trying to copy the stencil,My hand dragged across the whole shirt and got globs of paint all over it. I was trying to be neat, and hoped no one noticed the muddled mess, but the teacher noticed and started freaking out. She said she would have to do my shirt, made me feel like a dumbass, and asked me to go wash the paint off of my hands and arms. Unfortunately, I had an allergic reaction to the paint, and my whole arm and my face itched like CRAZY. I had to get an epi and stay in the nurses office until my mom came to get me. When she saw me, covered in paint, all red from the allergy, and crying because I was pathetic, she BURST into laughter. Later, she helped me make my own T&F shirt at home, which was WAY cooler than all those dumbdumbs in the class had. Woo, childhood trauma.
I have some other ones, but they are WAY too long. I was always waay too tall for my age, which caused teasing, and my last name is a noun, so I got made fun of a lot for that. Fun.
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When I was in second grade, I got a scratch on my middle finger during recess. I knelt down and was examining it when a boy came over and asked me what was wrong. I curled up my other fingers and showed him my middle one, explaining, "Oh, it's nothing, just a litt--" He ran off, screaming, "Teacher, she gave me the middle finger!" I don't think he actually took the trouble of finding a teacher to tell, because I don't remember having to defend myself in my ignorance, but I do remember my father refusing to tell me what it meant at home that evening.
A good friend of mine talks about a similar experience: her parents wouldn't explain why the four F's of evolutionary motivation--fleeing, feeding, fighting, and, er, reproducing--weren't the three F's and an R.
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Fucking Fornication?