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Author Topic: Schoolyard Stories  (Read 29573 times)

Eris

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Schoolyard Stories
« on: 09 Jan 2008, 04:48 »

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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ledhendrix

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #1 on: 09 Jan 2008, 05:18 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #2 on: 09 Jan 2008, 05:34 »

I used to read a book while walking around in primary school, among other things.
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PacoSees

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #3 on: 09 Jan 2008, 05:41 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #4 on: 09 Jan 2008, 05:55 »

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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Paav

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #5 on: 09 Jan 2008, 07:15 »

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.
« Last Edit: 09 Jan 2008, 07:35 by Paav »
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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #6 on: 09 Jan 2008, 07:23 »

If you starve to death I will enjoy this meal much more.

In your own time.
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SevenPinkerton

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #7 on: 09 Jan 2008, 07:54 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #8 on: 09 Jan 2008, 08:03 »

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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PacoSees

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #9 on: 09 Jan 2008, 08:21 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #10 on: 09 Jan 2008, 08:22 »

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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yelley

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #11 on: 09 Jan 2008, 08:34 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #12 on: 09 Jan 2008, 08:36 »

Super-professional.
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PacoSees

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #13 on: 09 Jan 2008, 08:54 »

Stories like that remind me why I'm not religious any more.
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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #14 on: 09 Jan 2008, 09:03 »

Because some people are shitty teachers?  :?
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yelley

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #15 on: 09 Jan 2008, 09:05 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #16 on: 09 Jan 2008, 09:09 »

When I was briefly at my parents' house on Xmas day (oh horror of horrors), I had a seriously enlightening conversation with them about their respective time at school which helped me understand why they are both as crazy as they undoubtedly are. Turns out they both went to schools that were run by Nuns and the occasional Priest. Both of them independently talked about how not only were these Nuns woefully unqualified at their jobs, they were frankly unqualified to act as examples of human beings. They were all insane, hysterical, violent, abusive, sexually perverse and totally incapable of actually teaching anything. My Mother had stories of being beaten nearly unconscious for being found smoking and my Father was caned for a range of subjects from talking to girls, drinking water from the wrong faucet and (by far my favourite) making the wrong facial expression whilst thinking.

When I regard my parents now and marvel at the fact that they never learned how to perform the most basic mental processes such as identifying factual from erroneous information and then using it to make rational decisions, I realise that they simple never learned these things in school because all it was for them it was basically a prison in which they were randomly beaten, sexually abused and humiliated at the whim of absolutely delusional people. It explains so much!
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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #17 on: 09 Jan 2008, 10:27 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #18 on: 09 Jan 2008, 10:28 »

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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Lines

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #19 on: 09 Jan 2008, 11:30 »

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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pen

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #20 on: 09 Jan 2008, 11:39 »

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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mooface

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #21 on: 09 Jan 2008, 11:59 »

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.
« Last Edit: 09 Jan 2008, 12:21 by mooface »
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Hunter

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #22 on: 09 Jan 2008, 12:38 »

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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PacoSees

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #23 on: 09 Jan 2008, 13:14 »

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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Liz

Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #24 on: 09 Jan 2008, 13:37 »

(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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jhocking

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #25 on: 09 Jan 2008, 13:41 »

right


wrong

Eris

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #26 on: 09 Jan 2008, 15:25 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #27 on: 09 Jan 2008, 15:58 »

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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sean

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #28 on: 09 Jan 2008, 16:25 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #29 on: 09 Jan 2008, 16:57 »

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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PacoSees

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #30 on: 09 Jan 2008, 17:48 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #31 on: 09 Jan 2008, 18:02 »

they look like this
and you can do this to them

hence the name.
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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #32 on: 09 Jan 2008, 18:42 »

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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ZJGent

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #33 on: 09 Jan 2008, 18:48 »

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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Spinless

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #34 on: 09 Jan 2008, 19:04 »

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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Jimmy the Squid

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #35 on: 09 Jan 2008, 19:21 »

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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Jposh

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #36 on: 09 Jan 2008, 20:08 »

Really?


Thats pretty ba.


Also, my friends dad thinks ba means "boy action"
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Lazer

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #37 on: 09 Jan 2008, 20:40 »

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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Tom

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #38 on: 09 Jan 2008, 20:45 »

A Pyhrric victory of sorts.
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jhocking

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #39 on: 09 Jan 2008, 20:53 »

How so? I don't see him mentioning any downside to what he did.

Tom

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #40 on: 09 Jan 2008, 20:57 »

to everyone else it was just a violent outbreak.
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Boro_Bandito

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #41 on: 09 Jan 2008, 21:04 »

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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Emaline

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #42 on: 09 Jan 2008, 21:12 »

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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Boro_Bandito

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #43 on: 09 Jan 2008, 21:18 »

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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Yeah, I mean, "I won't kill and eat you if you won't kill and eat me" is typically a ground rule for social groups.

dr.sangaygupta

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #44 on: 09 Jan 2008, 21:55 »

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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Emaline

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #45 on: 09 Jan 2008, 22:24 »

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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Johnny C

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #46 on: 09 Jan 2008, 22:41 »

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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Emaline

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #47 on: 09 Jan 2008, 22:54 »

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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Scandanavian War Machine

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #48 on: 10 Jan 2008, 02:28 »

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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Caiphana

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #49 on: 10 Jan 2008, 02:54 »

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.
« Last Edit: 10 Jan 2008, 03:04 by Caiphana »
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Those who forget the past may be doomed to repeat it, but those who refuse to learn from the past and move on are fucking idiots.
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