» School Days

Even managed to get into the sydney morning herald
At my school, everyone always spent hours talking about what jokes they were going to pull on the last day, but no-one ever seemed to play any- all the ones that had been done had been done years ago by friends of people that someone had once spoken to someone who they knew.

During one of these conversations the idea came up that simply had to be done. While we still had a year before we left, we decided that this would be an advantage as we would both get to see it, and it would be blamed on the students that actually were leaving. The highly dastardly plan was to do a bit of artwork on the front lawn (which you got told off for walking on). Being a highly sensible, mature all boys school the subject was never in any question.

One maths lesson later and the exact dimensions along with the surface area of grass that would need to be killed had been calculated; one trip to sainsburies and enough weedkiller to kill 50 times this much grass was procured. The mission was all set and ready to go.

We returned that night and whilst a few of us mixed the weedkiller with water, someone else scaled the security fencing, climbed up the side of the tech block and turned the PIR on the security light to face the wall. By this time the rest of us were ready, some took up watch positions whilst the actual artwork was created. Nails and string were used to mark out the outline, the weedkiller that had previously been mixed with water was applied, mission accomplished.

Over the course of the next week or so, the library was periodically invaded by a dozen or so teenagers running in, laughing at a slightly yellowing patch on the lawn then running out. After a while it became obvious what was so comical.

The caretakers first plan to return the lawn to its former glory was to simply get some blokes from the council to mow a rectangle around it to the mud, then replant it and let it all grow back. He had not accounted for the amount of weedkiller used, up grew the grass around it, leaving a bare dirt cdc where there once had been a yellowed grass cdc. Plan B was brought into action- dig up the grass and re-turn aforementioned rectangle. Lets just say that pathclear (which advertises as keeping driveways clear for 6 months) applied at 50 times the recommended concentration doesn't give up that easily.

After a few months of making it more and more obvious, he finally succeeded, this was managed by digging up and replacing not only the turf but the mud underneath.

We thought that it was all over, but little did we know of the microsoft plane flying silently overhead.

A couple of years later a story suddenly appeared in the local paper. Being a teenager, I was of course invincible; I decided that I might as well give them an interview.

The police did eventually phone me up and arrange a convenient time to arrest me, after a few hours that consisted mainly of the police laughing and joking, I was officially reprimanded- told what I had done was very naughty and not to do it again.

Overall I think it was worth the reprimand, and I'm still proud that it got into one of the most distant newspapers possible: the Sydney Morning Herald

I know some of you might think I'm bullshitting, but take look at the email address I signed up with. I got this account years before all this happened.
(Thu 29th Jan 2009, 18:35, More)

» Abusing freebies

Bright futures my arse!
During year 10 our school decided that taking the whole year group to a ´careers fair' would be a productive use of our time. We didn't concentrate so much on the offers of free career advice, more on the offers of ´free´ stuff.

To start with it was who could get the most pens/career advice sheets but we quickly got bored; the game evolved to ´if you can take it without being noticed it counts as free´.

The chef wandered off for a break and when he returned his stall had been stripped, not just of the chocolate and wafer things he had left out on the table, but the massive (about twice the size of a football) bag of chocolate, that was presumably his supply for the whole several day event, and his hat also were gone.

There was a stall that had a coconut, I took it once, however my bag was so bulging with ´freebies´ that the handle broke, spilling stuff everywhere- my attempts at looking subtle while a coconut rolled off along the floor weren't entirely successful. It wasnt long bofore the coconut had once again ´gone missing´, this time safely tucked into my jacket.

I still don't know why marmalade would be an incentive to follow a particular career path, but a jar ended up in someone else's bag; that slightly backfired when the lid fell off resulting in a rather sticky bag.

The bus journey back to school was reminiscent of a storm with the amounts of paper/pens/pencils/chocolate flying- the teacher soon gave up his attempts at controlling us and just ducked down to try to avoid being hit.

The best part of it was the next day when we all got called to a special assembly with the head. We were all braced for a bollocking and nobody was surprised when he starting off by saying we had been called down in relation to our conduct at the event the day before, we were however somewhat surprised when he congratulated us on our excellent behaviour. Im still not entirely sure at what level it was decided not to mention the stripping of anything not nailed in place but no one felt it would be a good idea let on what our behaviour was really like.
(Thu 8th Nov 2007, 17:42, More)

» Fire!

4 teaspoons of smoke mix I mentioned in my last post + teddy =

(Tue 8th Nov 2005, 23:45, More)

» DIY disasters

Never help my dad mend the fence
Now I use the word fence, but it is more of a collection of rotten wood held together by an assortment of ivy, planks and extra nails/screws.

On one (not all that rare) occasion when my dad decided that the fence was in need of a repair, he requested my assistance. I made the mistake of agreeing to help; as is typical with father/son jobs, he took the lead and I did the passing/holding. Due to the fact that the fence could have been knocked over by a mouse with emphysema breathing on it, I was directed to the opposite side to support the piece of wood into which the nail was to be hammered. He started hammering a nail in no problem, however a problem was soon discovered- the nail was longer than the combined thickness of the wood, the nail penetrated both pieces then continued on its merry way into my hand. Swearing ensued, and that was the last time I ever helped him repair the 'fence'

Sorry for length- too long, causing unwanted penetration
(Thu 3rd Apr 2008, 20:51, More)

» Dumb things you've done

Just been reminded by other tales of hot item grabbery
A few weeks ago I managed to crash my motorbike (nothing too serious). After spending a good few hours drilling and carefully extracting a snapped bolt from the engine block I put in a new exhaust gasket and bolted the exhaust back in place.

Due to having tinkered with the bike a test-ride was in order; fired it up and it all seemed to work fine, took it all out for a ride and everything seemed fine apart from a bent brake lever.

Got it home and decided to make sure that the exhaust was still nice and secure. This is where my common sense lapsed- off came the nice thick, protective leather glove from the hand, which was then applied directly to the hottest part of the exhaust pipe right by the engine. For a split second I thought there was some movement, then I realised the give was in my fingers and was due to the skin melting.

Still have slightly shiny fingertips on my right hand but no severe burns.
(Thu 3rd Jan 2008, 20:39, More)