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Author Topic: Schoolyard Stories  (Read 38366 times)

jmrz

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #50 on: 10 Jan 2008, 04:14 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #51 on: 10 Jan 2008, 05:33 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #52 on: 10 Jan 2008, 05:52 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #53 on: 10 Jan 2008, 06:01 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #54 on: 10 Jan 2008, 06:04 »

In High School a year back some guy dumped on the floor in the boys toilet.
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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #55 on: 10 Jan 2008, 07:40 »

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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pen

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #56 on: 10 Jan 2008, 07:50 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #57 on: 10 Jan 2008, 07:52 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #58 on: 10 Jan 2008, 08:02 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #59 on: 10 Jan 2008, 08:11 »

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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ledhendrix

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #60 on: 10 Jan 2008, 08:21 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #61 on: 10 Jan 2008, 08:32 »

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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ledhendrix

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #62 on: 10 Jan 2008, 08:37 »

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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ThePQ4

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #63 on: 10 Jan 2008, 08:40 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #64 on: 10 Jan 2008, 08:47 »

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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ledhendrix

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #65 on: 10 Jan 2008, 08:51 »

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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ThePQ4

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #66 on: 10 Jan 2008, 08:55 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #67 on: 10 Jan 2008, 08:56 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #68 on: 10 Jan 2008, 09:17 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #69 on: 10 Jan 2008, 09:39 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #70 on: 10 Jan 2008, 09:40 »

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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ledhendrix

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #71 on: 10 Jan 2008, 09:45 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #72 on: 10 Jan 2008, 10:03 »

In secondary school we stopped playing games like those and just started straight up fighting.
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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #73 on: 10 Jan 2008, 11:54 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #74 on: 10 Jan 2008, 12:04 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #75 on: 10 Jan 2008, 12:14 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #76 on: 10 Jan 2008, 13:31 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #77 on: 10 Jan 2008, 14:20 »

 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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #78 on: 10 Jan 2008, 14:20 »

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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Scandanavian War Machine

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #79 on: 10 Jan 2008, 14:29 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #80 on: 10 Jan 2008, 14:34 »

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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ledhendrix

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #81 on: 10 Jan 2008, 15:24 »

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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mooface

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #82 on: 10 Jan 2008, 15:41 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #83 on: 10 Jan 2008, 15:41 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #84 on: 10 Jan 2008, 16:24 »

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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clockworkjames

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #85 on: 10 Jan 2008, 16:42 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #86 on: 10 Jan 2008, 16:46 »

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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ledhendrix

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #87 on: 10 Jan 2008, 16:50 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #88 on: 10 Jan 2008, 16:52 »

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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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #89 on: 10 Jan 2008, 17:00 »

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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ledhendrix

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #90 on: 10 Jan 2008, 17:03 »

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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camelpimp

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #91 on: 10 Jan 2008, 17:51 »

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.
« Last Edit: 10 Jan 2008, 18:24 by camelpimp »
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Oli

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #92 on: 10 Jan 2008, 18:19 »

In school we all played Sex Jenga.
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dr.sangaygupta

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #93 on: 10 Jan 2008, 20:25 »

Funniest thing. EVER.
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BobJoeJim

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #94 on: 10 Jan 2008, 20:32 »

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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öde

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #95 on: 10 Jan 2008, 21:05 »

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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hannahrochelle

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #96 on: 10 Jan 2008, 21:20 »

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
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Chrasstor

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #97 on: 10 Jan 2008, 21:25 »

The best kind of pedophile.
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hannahrochelle

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #98 on: 10 Jan 2008, 21:40 »

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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captain zoe

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Re: Schoolyard Stories
« Reply #99 on: 10 Jan 2008, 21:42 »

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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