I had no idea this would run, so I re-itereate, the original piece was despatched to me in a 'chain', so respect and thanks to the author, and please don't sue!
Phew...I only asked!
A tumultuous, titanic, terrible tale of tyrranical teacher torture tittle tattle, telling times of tingling tuches, and tearfully taken taps transferred to terrified tots. I take it your school was "approved?"
Remembering the Christine Keeler scandal, and the iconic mono pic of her astride that equally iconic chair, one of the lads had a photo ( a real print ) of Ms Keeler full monty, nude ( and de-nuded ) which was doing the rounds. Guess who's Mum found it?....she threw it on the fire! Ahh another loss of a perfect priceless printed piece. Arthur Negus work turn in this....er is he dead?
Don't think we had anyone famous...David Lord organ stomper...who's cous' Peter Lord spirited away Peter Gabriel's Missus...err...nope that's it.
Walnut whips, now you have pressed the nostalgia button. On that lovely, neat little square plinthy thing.
By the way, I guess you noticed I was not enchanted with school...
Straight in at number 19 Pop pickers, all thanks to Brian 'could you get a word in edgeways, anyway' Milne. You know him, 'there's an old Milne by the Stream,' it's just that I think that nostalgia will always be poplier....but is it any different really? same folk, different haircuts.....I mean the Cinema ( ABC Minors ) would sell you 'salted' popcorn giving you a raging bull of thirst, like a rabid dog with Diabetes, so's they could flog you more sugary pop.... Is that not much the same moral standpoint as ol' Sugartits, or the Google-eyed monster scanning yer Histoire to find suitable pop up up slots? huh? is it?
Any way in the meantime a list of my fave films.
Les Enfants du Paradise
Starman
39 Steps
Leon
eeer that's it gorn off topic....Now there's a thing
Topic ( what's a hazel nut in every bite?.... squirrel sh*t )
Penguins ( with real Chocolate )
Cadbury's Bliss
Big frick off slab of Dairy Milke 6d
Duncan' s walnut whip ( before they changed that lovely fondant filling to something that belongs inside a McDonalds Tea Cake
MacDonald teacakes ( the original Macdos )
BlackJacks ( sorry Jacks of deepend colour )
HTG Cecil B. De Milne on Social box
Not Eaten myself. We produced Raymond Briggs, Gerry Cottle of circus fame, Hugh Dennis's dad, Tubby Hayes (wow, saw him play...), John Rostill the bassist mk3 of the Shadows, Neville Heath (the serial murderer), various generals, bishops and soccer players (long before the school had soccer at all) and John Major a minor Tory mishap (actually I have a photograph of the two of us chatting at No 10) and what we all shared was being either shouted at by arrogant twats who thought they knew something, touched up by geezers who knew pupils would never grass them, prefects who had obviously found somebody to train them who was on the run for crimes against humanity at Auschwitz and a bevvy of maniacs with slippers, rulers, sticks and sets of different thickness and weight canes. Long sentence, but six years there was to suffer. Then there was the cadet corps, running about learning how to die in battle with sadistic older lads with a couple of stripes and a stick plus the same blokes who normally had the canes with deadlier weapons to play with. Those were the days. So I did no work whatsover, never did homework after the first year, dodged every detention bar one and then I got out super quick. Yes sir, they asked me to fill both sides of a page describing the spoon placed in front of me. So I licked it off in 20 minutes, raised hand to give said neatly handwritten sheet to prefect and justice was done. I walked. Much of each week I was down the caff round the corner with mates playing pinball and listening to the jukebox. I also walked it with a dozen O levels and six A levels despite the most dismal reports imaginable. I did so well that the head shook my hand and wished me well when I returned my books (not all, still have some Shakespeares I forgot on purpose). However, a young teacher who became both a TUC and human rights/peace movement activist who had done a couple of years there by then and I crossed tracks frequently, indeed I saw him at the end of 2010 when I was in London, told me what his colleagues were really like. May I quote: whisky swilling, chain smoking, sexually active with anything they could find (trees, goats, you name it) bar a few unhappily married ones, but definitely sadistic cowards.
Bring back those days when education made a man of most girls and heaven knows what it did to most boys! These softies now with their openly gay, peaceful, knowledgeable and kind teachers and then they balls it all up by abusing the teachers. No sir, bring back sadism and fascism in the school, you know it does you good!
Bllllllllllllllllaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!
Not Eton and brought up myself, but I did attend 'Salesian College' a sort of 'mock' Greyfriers, staffed almost entirely by the usual whisky drinkin' fag smokin' violent pederasts that populate such establishments!
Still, it made a man of me. The College was mainly a Boarding School, and the boarders seemed to 'mature' more quickly, first to shave, shop-lift, tommy tank etc. than us fresh faced day-boys. Anarchy and humour was also more rapid in their development, I seem to remember. One night some (?) boys awoke to paint footprints from the statue of Dominic Savio ( goodie goodie Catholic creep mea culpa, ) the full 20 yards to the toilets...and back. So funny!!! although we are all flailed, in a 'you are all in this together' flailing frenzy.....ah the good old days!
verbalises, yes used to have those for dinner in my day. All those nice parrots and keys, gluecumber and potaticles, yum, yum with strawberry jam and custard.
Oh God ...Schnorbitz....sounds like a cross between a German Prisoner of War Camp and the noise OH makes in bed!
I wish! Just makes me feel ancient :-))
Nice to see you verbalizing ( if it ain't a word then it outa be ) Can't stop, cookalizing!
Remember the old obsession with 'what do you want to be when you grow up?' Well, we had a really strict Irish Catholic teacher, Mr Moriarty, who asked that one. I think quite a few of us knew what to expect when he got to Alan. This boy answered: "A criminal." teacher got in a huff and said that Alan should make sense of his question but he persisted. Finally, Mr Moriarty asked why. "Well," said Alan "my dad is and he's in Wandsworth at the moment. I think my uncle's in the Scrubs, well a couple of uncles anyway. My grandad is in Brixton and my great uncle is at the place on the Isle of Wight (meaning Parkhurst no doubt)." Or at least, it was words along those lines but Isle of Wight I remember for sure amonsgt the selection. Mr Moriarty crossed himself, barked something about us opening books at page such and such and reading...
A few weeks later, Iit was probably at Hurst Park or maybe Sandown Park and there was Mr Moriarty placing a bet in full view of us, with a cigarette between his lips and a woman with the reddest imaginable lips, a very tight dress and holding his pint for him. Strange to say, but he never ever told me off for anything for the rest of the year. Did I hold my lip? No, everybody knew by the end of playtime on the following Monday...
The days of innocence.
Or as Victor Borge would have said, fllowing the always add one sketch, two in two thousand! Now those were the days of comedians who just stood there and amde us howl and then came Mike and Bernie Winters and the rot set in...
My lovely wife is a Proper Mrs. Malaprop..in and out like a YoYo...Up and Down like a fiddler's elbow etc. She's one in a thousand!
Is that a backhanded way of telling me I look much older than I really am Terry ...!
Good lord, Andrew. You're younger than my son! Have to start calling you youngster!
Carry On films as frequent as Elvis ones. The pencil sharpener monitor for the week when we all had a pencil that lasted at least a term or mother's scorn. Now my eight year old is demanding a laptop!
Things weren't perfect, but when we got a bit older and were 'allowed out' nobody knew what the stuff we put in our rollies was except that the Jamaican blokes all had fags that smelled like that too!
Yes, agree with the diet Ron, I have umbrella syndrome. Sometimes I am thin and others very round, so docs are always jabbing about trying to find out if I am type 1 or 2 and I always say that I don't want it, won't get it. Bubonic plague perhaps. They look at me as if I am nuts and then I tell them I occasionally work in NW Viet Nam and if they look at the WHO rare disease charts...
The times I have been tested for Diabetes I can count on my 7 fingers and toes!!! I swear blind I could. I have it now ( hence the regime ) I have lost half a stone simply by cutting out things like food. Sure Brian, things weren't perfect then but it all seemed a lot simpler.
One of my pleasures is to watch a re-run of films like 'Passport to Pimlico, ' Maytime in Mayfair, or anything with Norman Wisdom etc...all monochrome, no parking meters, Routemasters, tree lined Avenues....ahhh memories.
I have a friend who malapropps often and in his honour in one part of my social world we say "Tell us your antidotes then... "
good idea Brian, if a "youngster" like me can chip in on this one ;-)
Never liked aspirin, but blue cheese, bread and dripping, raw egg products, loads of bacon and processed meat, tuna from a can - yep, still eat them from time to time (got a really good Stilton supplier hereabouts for the blue) and do get tested for diabetes quite often but since I am not into it, have defied medical predictions and do not have it - the other things don't count. Oh boy, am I enjoying this post!