I love the smell of formaldehyde in the morning...
I had a partner in crime at school called Siobhan. During Biology one day we got the sheep's lungs (complete with oesaphagus) out of the formaldehyde in which it rested and discovered that if you jiggled its throat about, you could make stinky foam come out of the cut end. We also stole a load of live maggots from the same lesson and placed them strategically in the school dining hall. More specifically, in a big pan of cooked rice. You should see first years scream when they realise their dinner is wriggling.
( Sallyrsm, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 19:40, Reply)

I loved 6th form
For social reasons, not academic you understand. Anyway I took an A level in Sociology (mock if you will, snobs) and had a pretty interesting teacher.

Let us refer to him as Mr K. Now Mr K resembled a sort of living alcoholic garden gnome and had a chirpy northern accent, interrupted with strange little high pitched 'hm' noises.

A man who was in danger of talking all the bullshit out of his body, he would delight in teling us tales of how he bumped into an old uni chum who was now a drunken tramp in a gutter, and how he once saved a man from jumping off a building on his campus. He then made us write down the number of the Samaratins in our exercise books.

His lessons would run something like this: He would be roughly 10-15 minutes late. He would give us photocopied pages from a textbook that he insisted was 'unavailable to buy anymore'.

He would give a little lecture that was basically the text written in the photocopies, but worded as if it were his own knowledge and wisdom. He would tell us to do one of the exercises from the photocopies, then say he had to go and get a glass of water/something from his car/more photocopies. He would promptly bugger off until 5 minutes towards the end of the class.

Some days he just wouldn't turn up at all. However, if you had the audacity to be 2 minutes late for when he actually arrived in class on time, he would spend a good 10 minutes giving the whole class a bollocking.

Is there a happy end to this tale? Well I got a C in sociology but only because the other teacher was amazing and ran after school catch up lessons that consisted of the stuff that HE was supposed to teach us. Unfortunately Mr K left the school for a position in a local university where he would teach aspiring teachers. Yes, thats right children, he got a job teaching other people how to be good teachers. What.The.Fuck. I would love to know what advice he gave.

"Photocopy. Run."
(Eldoofus, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 18:47, 2 replies)

One more
One of my old teachers told me a story of when he had an alcoholic lecturer at university.

He came in one day and started giving exactly the same lecture he had the week before. Word for word the same, down to pausing in the same places.


How many times do you have to have taught the same lecture to do that?
( MatJ LOOK, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 18:28, Reply)

More photo fun...

Last night Captain Placid & I were round my brother's shagpad, and the conversation drunkenly stumbled onto my 'belming' school photo.

He then informed me of a time when he was young and they took one of those 'entire school' photos...

The kind that stretch for what seems like 20 feet and are taken with a camera that slowly moves along to create a sort of 'panoramic' effect.

It appears my brother seized the opportunity for mischief and as soon as the camera had moved past him, he ducked out of the shot, only to appear somewhere later down the throngs of students.

He showed up 4 times in the same photo overall.

On the discovery of this prank, the reward for his efforts was to be 'Caned so hard that for a while I had four arse cheeks'

Good times.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 5 Feb 2009, 18:24, 5 replies)

On the last day of school
We were applauded by the head of sixth form in the mid-morning assembly for "not doing anything disruptive".


We proceeded to dance through the staffroom in a conga line in front of the astonished teachers, before removing its entire contents to the far side of the sports fields. When I say entire, I mean it. Potted plants, clocks, telephones, folders, kettle etc.

Then we sat around on the chairs, acting as if nothing had happened.


We had to put it back again.





Then we all went and got pissed.


.
( MatJ LOOK, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 18:24, Reply)

I'd like to apologise on behalf of the staff
but QOTW is closed today due to the inclement weather.

Please phone the next person on your list to continue the chain.
( Noeli overtheshoulderboulderholderthingstraplatchboobs, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 18:06, 1 reply)

Last Spring
Was my sixth year, meaning lots of free periods and people starting to turn eighteen, it also had some rather lovely sunny days. So naturally we spent most of our time in the beer garden, the eighteen year olds venturing in to buy everyone else booze.

This worked well, It stopped us from making noise and as long as we weren't pissed on school grounds the teachers were happy to turn a blind eye. A few even joined us on one occasion.

We all looked out for each other and made sure no one got drunk.

"Kate, are you sure you should have another."

"Och, I'm fine. I've nae mare classes."

"Uum, we've got computing next."

She managed to act sober rather well, for about five steps into the door where she then walked into filing cabinet and appologised profusley, slurring every word.
(Roger McGough-Pipe, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 17:44, Reply)

Clarse Inspection
Back in infant school a large quantity of human faeces was discovered on a seat in my classroom. It had appeared between the start and end of morning play time. At first it was believed to be belong to a girl named Tanya, who had been sitting in the seat all morning. After some questioning and a smelling she was declared innocent.

Within minutes we were all evacuated from the classroom and made to wait in the assembly hall. As we stood around, we were joined by every other pupil in the school, from nursery to J4. After some verbal instructions from the music teacher, Mrs Price, we formed a giant queue.

One by one, children were led into a room. The only other time we had lined up and entered this room was during some vaccination thing. Were they injecting the children? Were we being put to death because of the unexplained shit? No, it was far far worse.

After many minutes of waiting, I was led into the room. This time there was no mother to greet me and tell me not to be scared. There was no friendly nurse to give me a sweet and say "This won't hurt". There was just one man; Mr Bennett. Mr Bennett the headmaster. I feared this man. For some reason he was still allowed to hit the children during assembly, even though this was the 90s. He never hit me, but I was always worried that he would for no reason. Then my teacher entered the room. She said: "Anthony, drop your trousers and bend over" Was I about to meet my end? Was Mr Bennett about to go Pulp Fiction on my pale six year old ass? Sadly no, it was something far more degrading. Being young and confused I did so without question. After a lot of thought, I've decided that if someone was to ask me the same question today, I would be less obliging. So my trousers were down and then it happened.

My teacher and the headmaster began to pat my buttocks and smell my poor bum. I doubt that I found any of it very strange at the time, but years of running it through my head may have done me some serious mental harm. I even remember what underwear I was wearing, my only pair of boxer shorts. They were white and had a brown cartoon dog on them. I passed the test. My bum was clean and I was no longer a suspect in the great ass inspection of 91. I pulled up my trousers and left as if nothing had happened.
(sadbearhandbook, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 17:39, 1 reply)

Last
!
(lanternchikk hat eine schwere Bohlenallergie, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 17:24, 1 reply)

never liked P.E
im not a fatty im just lazy and i dislike competition

i was quite happy when i got to the last half of my second year of G.C.S.E because we got to choose what we wanted to do in P.E, basically it meant i was unsupervised for the whole lesson while they kept an eye on all the chavs who always wanted to play football

i was even happier when i found out at A level you didnt have to do PE as it meant i didnt have to put on a pair of shorts to sit around doing nothing for 3/4 of an hour
( Reme Philips laid an epic dump on, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 16:59, Reply)

At my junior school

After play-time, we always used to have a competition to see who could get in last.

Thank God we've all grown up since those days!
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 16:53, 1 reply)

An old headmaster (repost)
He told us of a jape he was responsible for when he was at school.

He substituted every single screw in his teacher's blackboard for a matchstick.

Sure enough, as soon as chalk met board, the whole ensemble collapsed, trapping his teacher underneath.

Six stiff strokes of the cane for that one m'boy.
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Thu 5 Feb 2009, 16:29, Reply)

Most disturbing perhaps...
Oh those halcyon days...

Whilst school was a constant draw on my time, I did manage to find ways to make it through the day. There would be far too many stories to do in one hit as it were, so synopsis time.

One of my pet victims was the librarian. Competitions would range from trying to see how many crocodile clips could be attached to the hem of her skirt, to how high a jump could be illicited via the use of a hefty tome. I won the librarian round with the coup de grace; I sneaked in and dropped the right hand side of every shelf in the building by one notch thus creating the same distorted view as an enemy of batman's hideout!

Many other fun times were had, but they were funnier than the story I shall relate, thus rendering this post hazardous in view of the topic.
(Those of a scataphobic nature should look away now)

The moment from school that sits most heavily on my mind was after a sixth form party type thing. Where drink was allowed and much vomiting ensued. (Not on my part I hasten to add.) At the end of the evening, being a 'nice boy' I stayed behind to help wash up etc.
A fellow student came rushing in to tell me about something I had to see to believe. Somewhat cautiously I followed him into the gents to see what can only be described as "The Arm". In the cubicle, somehow still contained by the pan was the most comprehensive turd I've ever had the misfortune to confront. Fully as wide as my forearm, it started from under the s-bend and in one continuous push, so to speak, reared its head clear of the rim.

This clearly required one gargantuan effort on the part of the do-er. How it was physically possible I'll never know. Thoughts of having to raise one's buttocks up to finish because of the back pressure weighed big time on my young mind. It would have been impossible to remain seated throughout the performance.
Its name (and its memory) stuck. If only camera 'phones were de rigeur at the time I would have been able to (no on second thoughts)

I do apologise for the lack of funny stories of which I can assure you dear reader there were many. But this is what I remember most from my days at school.

Length? Seriously, I think I've tried to convey just how truly horrific it was.
( Blind Meach Cautiously optimistic, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 16:19, Reply)

When I was at school...
... if there was a question asked, it'd frequently be followed by another one.



Hint, hint.


EDIT (19:17): Actually, I quite like this question. I just thought it was an obvious post to make...
( Enzyme is powered by sunlight, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 16:12, 3 replies)

Right. When I was at school..
you kids dont know youre born. Rubbish. "Hilarious hi-jinks" involving ring tones? How unbelieveably fucking irritating kids these days must be. *dad voice on*. When I was at school, our pranks were calculated, devious, ingenious, practised and always, always involved either explosives or acid, and made use of something we'd actually learnt and applied to real life. Albeit, violently. However, it was never malicious and we were wary of the reponse of the adults and I like to think there was some respect on each side.

Honestly, you kids? Rubbish.

(By the way, this is pretty much what my grandad said to me once. Replacing "ringtones" with "catapult").
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:51, 12 replies)

Double Computer Studies...
Back in the day... what a wonderful lesson it was... a complete and utter doss...

Punched card readers *yawn* paper tape *strrrretch* RML380Z *doze* I'm sure you can imagine the sort of thing...

Typical, i'd imagine, of many Computing teachers back in the day (this would be 1985-6) ours was a bit of a libertarian ex-hippie.

So as long as we didn't take the piss too much she'd let us wear a walkman in class, or have a bit of a laugh chatting to mates, or do the homework for the next lesson from the week before... you know the sort of thing. Who were we to complain? Some bright spark did the work in about 10 minutes, which then circulated the entire class for copying, allowing the rest of the time to be spent gainfully, stabbing each other with compasses... trying to set loose items of clothing on fire with cig lighters... or, in my case, achieving a well-rounded education in the finer points of AC/DC pre Brian Johnson... but i digress.

On this particular morning, our poor hapless teacher (who shall remain nameless) was unfortunate enough to return from a trip to the little girls room with skirt FULLY tucked down back of knickers.

I've never heard louder burst of laughter contained so well behind hands clamped across mouths, rosy cheeks and watering eyes.

Of course, nobody said anything... I thought someone would take pity, because she was actually quite a nice woman, but nobody did.
She turned her back to us, gave narrative, and wrote on the board exactly as before, clearly completely unaware anything was amiss. The whole class, about 30 of us, were incapable of any kind of action or movement, or the laughter would have exploded out of us & torn the roof off the building.

For the life of me I can't remember how she twigged... maybe she dropped the chalk or something, I don't know... Or, more likely, her suspicions were aroused because we were suddenly all so quiet and well behaved... Anyway... realise she did, fractionally before realising also that none of us had seen fit to tell her.

"OH YOU LITTLE SHITS!" she screamed and ran out of the class blushing a fulsome shade of beetroot.

Now, I know what you're thinking...
They were just as you'd expect...
White, undeniably large and militarily reinforced at waist, leg and gusset .
:o)
(Roger_Irrelevant he's completely hatstand, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:36, Reply)

One more.
We had an alcoholic teacher for about a year.

He lived with his Mum and grandma aged 50 something.

he also tried to teach a year 10 top set class how to read the time becasue he was off his face and couldnt be bothered to teach properly.

One lesson he gave me and my mate an afterschool detention and thoguht we would be mature enoguh to sit there doing our lines for a full hour.

We proceeded to rip the room to shreds burning holes in the floor, burning papers, kicking hole in things. This was all minor stuff until i had the brilliant idea of taking a piss in the hole in the wall that we kicked in earlier.
The next week the room was closed until the wall was fully ripped down to clean behind it and kill the smell of piss.

You may think that we would get expelled for this extreme behaviour and vandalsim, but it turned out he was too drunk to actually remember who he gave an afterschool.

Yays for the incredibly flawed education system.
(PaulGadd -, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:32, 3 replies)

We once had a Teacher named Mr Spencer
wearing silk purples suits to a secondary school is extremly unadvised.

His first day we locked him in the cupboard for a full 3 hours.

Then a week later someone found a ringtone known as 'bad sound' it was basically a minute of ear shattering high pitched noises.

Four of us got the ringtone and strategically placed ourselves in the corners of the room.

One would paly the ringtone and once Mr Spencer came to that corner a different boy would paly the rigntone.

This lead him round in circles until he burst out of the room in tears and proceeded to rip a cupboard to shreds.
Best.
Lesson.
EVAR.
(PaulGadd -, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:25, 4 replies)

April Fool's Day 1998
Due to being among the cleverest in the class my 3 best friends and I sat together with a helper, so that while the rest of the class were plodding along, we could speed off ahead with the work, anyway, it turned out the helper had forgotten to give the stuff in the bag to her daughter on the way to school, so we stayed in at break, and managed to persuade the rest of the class to as well.

In this time we attatched toy spiders webs to the whiteboard, changed the date to the end of term, changed the clock to show home time, put toy rats everywhere, putting the teachers old pen in her coffee and pretended it was her new one (yeah, well it amused me and my friends - and it worked - she freaked!) I can't remember the other things, put they were all quite immature. Then we all hid under the desks and in the cupboards for the teacher to come in from break, then all jumped out and shouted "April Fool's". Aah, that was fun!
(deadly_sinners, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:21, Reply)

And another
my R.E teacher fancied himself as the cool teacher everyone looked up too.

This meant countless stories of him snowboarding,travelling around the world and other such crap (all found out to be lies later on)
One day he was telling us about how in Slovenia there had recently been a massive 'dump of powder',

I then instantly responded all too loudly 'Gnarly'. The whole class burst into tears of laughter.

It was totally worth the afterschool detention
(PaulGadd -, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:19, 2 replies)

My funniest moment in school was when
a p.e teacher told me and my friends off for acting too 'gay' in his class because we sucked at sports.

Once we got home one of my friends made a facebook group saying 'Mr _ _ _ _ _ thinks we are gay'

we then got pulled in by the head for making said group and all joining it.

Stifling back the laughs and he read each of our comments was unbearable, such gems as 'why dont we show him how to have a good time.' made me cry with laughter.

He doesnt like us anymore.
(PaulGadd -, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 15:13, Reply)

2 for 1
Both of them revolve around the bane of my school days, Physical Education. I am a nerd, not an athlete. Don't push me.

One particularly cold day, when it was pissing down and blowing a gale, we were all sent out to do some rugby training, which to start with consisted of standing around for a while. Of course, this had to be done in the cheapest, thinnest, smallest standard PE kit ever issued. I don't like rugby, or standing in the freezing cold rain while some fat berk with an office full of biscuits stands around in 5 layers of clothes under an umbrella telling us we're useless. My response was to turn blue. This isn't an exaggeration. I didn't know until the other students pointed it out. Sure enough, I was freezing to death, and the "teacher"'s response was to make me run to warm up. I couldn't, as my legs were seizing up. Eventually, he reluctantly sent me indoors. I didn't do PE in cold weather ever again.

~

A few years later, when I was doing AS Levels and consistently skipping PE lessons (still enforced even though you didn't pick them, and you supposedly control what you can do), I was in a photography class. The classroom overlooked the tennis courts, where a number of students were running back and forth with hockey sticks. Another student and I were idly gazing out the window, and talking about how crap PE was (go Art students!). The other student remarked: "What a pointless exercise". As quick as a flash, without even thinking, I responded with my zippiest one-liner to date. "Well, that's what P.E. stands for".
( Awesome Welles petitioning for foetuses to be rebranded 'wombles', Thu 5 Feb 2009, 14:59, 4 replies)

Science
Now standard school science is dangerous but my chemistry teacher was on another level. Favoured tricks include; First burning down the school fence with thermite. Then “discovering” the powers of physics to build a rail gun to take out the lighting in the lab ceiling then finally blowing up his fume cupboard, it came apart in a way that can only be described as being like “an Ikea diagram”. Great fun and no one died.
(The Liquorice Allstar I need cricket, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 14:57, Reply)

Sampling keyboards
Did your school have a little keyboard in the music room which you could record into, then play your recording back at various pitches, depending on which key you pressed?

Ours did. It used to drive Mrs Vaughn the music tacher to distraction.

Until the keyboard was finely disposed of after one memorable parents evening. A suitably cute first year had been stationed by the keyboards to demonstrate our school's dedication to the creative arts.

It was unfortunate, then, when one of the visiting parents said "ooh hello! what are you doing then?", and pressed one of the lower keys to hear, in a drawn-out deep voice, the words "Mrs...Vaughns...a....sluuuuut".
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 14:25, 12 replies)

Communication breakdown
I was alright at French at school. While I never had the discipline to learn the grammar properly I had a decent accent and picked up phrases very easily. I was confident, at least verbally.

So, by the time we were a couple of weeks into an A level exchange visit to a school in France, I thought I was fluent. I was wrong.

While sitting in a pub with my new French friends I decided a Gauloise would complement my 'baron' of beer nicely. I was out of matches so asked if anyone had a light. I couldn't work out why everyone started laughing and wouldn't give me the flames I needed. I knew I was holding it round the right way, so I figured my friends were just being French.

I started asking around the rest of the pub and got some very strange looks, especially from the local fishermen.

Had this been my first beer I might have twigged sooner, but it was very far from my first. Not until I'd asked everyone in the bar did my gittish amis enlighten me (and the smoke). It turns out idioms don't translate literally. While I thought I was asking everyone in the pub - male and female - if they had a light, I was really demanding to know exactly how horny they were.

"Avez-vous la feu?" Luckily the answer was an emphatic "Oui!" when I asked Julie later that night.
( Scrumper, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 14:19, Reply)

Nigel Blight did a poo
in Mr Gammons' drawer. I left school 13 years ago, and I don't think anything funnier has happened since.
( krang, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 14:03, Reply)

Pronunciation problems
In secondary school one of the teachers who taught French was an actual native of France. Her English was a little basic, and whenever a pupil said something she didn't understand, she would reply with 'I have no idea'. Except this was said in a very strong French accent and came out as'I have no I.D.'

Hence the conversation, quoted from numerous otherwise unremarkable lessons:

'Miss, are you an illegal immigrant?"
'I have no I.D.'
(TheCircleIsNowComplete is longing for the endless immensity of the sea, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 13:47, Reply)

Craft Design and Technology

It started with an ambitious idea.

I was going to build my very own R2 D2.

After a term I ended up with...

... a waste paper basket with a car headlight glued on top of it.

Mr Osier, the CDT teacher, was very proud...
( SpankyHanky, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 13:45, 4 replies)

School wasn’t up to much to be fair, although I was quite popular…

But once, I skived the day off, and razzed round the town with my girlfriend and my mate in my mate’s dad’s car.

Hilarity ensued.

Anyhoo…eventually I grew up and ended up marrying a woman with a horse face.
( Pooflake braces for an onslaught..., Thu 5 Feb 2009, 13:30, 12 replies)

Miss March
Our PE teacher was called Miss March.

Someone said to her "If you're Miss March I won't be buying the calendar".
( browser still relating boring anecdotes into a void on, Thu 5 Feb 2009, 13:29, 2 replies)