The Law of the Playground
the letter g
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Every primary school in the land is actually haunted, usually by dead children who were killed when an unstable playground wall fell on them, although sometimes it's a dreadful fire which engulfed the building in Victorian times.

Bizarrely, a simple wall fall will often result in several gruesome ghosties, whereas the school itself burning down will always leave just one rather dull (and mute) dead girl wearing a dirty white dress who Jenny swears was watching her in the toilets at break.
approved Apr 27 2005, submitted Apr 27 2005 by Oscar Terry
Hampshire, Winter. An elite team of boarding school pupils gather on the headmster's lawn and build an enormous giant snow cock on this forbidden land. It was huge; as tall as the tallest pupil you can imagine.
The next day, it became a natural meeting point before school, and pupils lined the forbidden lawn, gazing in wonder at the edifice. The headmaster sent out a weedy, natural victim of a teacher with instructions to take down this obscenity.
His limbs, flapping uselessly at the proud, mighty totem served only to whip the baying crowd of pupils into hysteria, who saw it as nothing less than an attempt to wank it off.
approved Oct 15 2004, submitted Oct 14 2004 by Jimbo B.
We spread fertilizer on the playing field in the shape of a giant cock. It was funny enough to have a big brown pud marked out on the turf, but to our delight, as the weeks went by, the grass grew thicker & greener in this area and the result was a luscious big grass donger. It looked really good from the tower block in our school, and as mowing it just made it even more distinct, there was nothing they could do to get rid of it.
approved Sep 21 2005, submitted Sep 18 2005 by anonymous user
Alas, the teachers at my school were wise to such cock-japery, so on the last day of term nobody was allowed out on the field. But wait! We were wise to such anti-cock-japery measures, so we'd already smuggled in a tin of paintstripper. Net result: one giant, spurting cock on the floor of the assembly hall. Score!
approved Sep 29 2005, submitted Sep 21 2005 by anonymous user
Cocktail supplied by Martin Gibbs consisting of a drop from each bottle of his father's sizeable drinks cabinet with the balance made up with cooking sherry. The bulk of the cocktail was generally given to anyone who had PE that afternoon and the subsequent displays of ridiculous drunken excess would have resulted in stern disiplinary action had our PE teacher not been a habitual alcoholic himself. Gibbs Suprise also led to the incapacitation of our cross country team - the only thing for which our school was famed. Thus I like to think it played a small part in the school's collapse into the very bottom of the league tables.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Jacob Thorne
Also known as a "bastard". When unable to procure our own alcohol a group of friends and I would tour our houses at lunchtime with a large jam jar or bottle, stopping off at each drinks cabinet to fill up with a measure or two of anything we could find and make a bastard. We'd then proceed to drink the bastard. Us being young, and the bastard being very strong, we would usually then throw up the bastard.
approved Sep 23 2003, submitted Aug 22 2003 by Ruben Cole
Gilbert was the groundskeeper at the school and as such lived in a shed between the pavilion and the cricket-scoring hut. (it was a middle class school in surrey that had pretensions towards some sort of Brideshead revisited idyll).
Naturally it was assumed that he molested children in the shed. Anyone suspected of kiddy fiddling was known as a Gilbert.
approved Jul 24 2003, submitted Jul 10 2003 by Chris Hough
Medieval farmer with an unfortunate affliction. We first became aware of his existence when, for some reason, some first years in History had been made to write letters from one medieval farmer to another, and the best of these had been pinned to the wall. Hilarity ensued when we noticed that one of them concluded with, "PS. Giles, you still HIV positive?"
approved Dec 14 2002, submitted Dec 13 2002 by Dupli Citous
Whenever a policeman comes to school (either to talk to you about careers and shit, or to arrest someone, depending on the calibre of your school), it is customary to point them out to a ginger, exclaiming "Ooh, someone hasn't paid their ginger tax!"

The ginger in question is then expected to reply "Damn, I knew I forgot something", and then spend the rest of the day in hiding. If he doesn't do this, you may hit him.
approved Mar 29 2006, submitted Mar 21 2006 by anonymous user
As a male child of the rusty-follicled persuasion, I learned that the worst thing you can possibly do is try and deflect insults with a cry of "It's not ginger! It's strawberry blonde!"

Thanks for the tip, Ross. Log, you could do worse than take heed.

approved May 11 2005, submitted May 8 2005 by Ross Gillson
Derived from the overpriced service station pasty and sandwich makers. It is to be caught with your dick in your hand. Perhaps with a pasty in the other hand.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Garth
In Ilkeston, Derbyshire, there are over 200 words for being caught with your dick in your hand. Simple holding, wanking, threatening behaviour, time of day, proximity to farmlife, all these factors affect the final word. There is a word for "holding your cock at dusk within spurting distance of a rooster".
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Jon Blyth
The box in games, full of spare clothes. This is used by three sets of people; fat or feeble kids who wilfully forget their kit to avoid games, trevors who can't afford their own kit, and normal children who simply forgot it was games. These are perhaps the most unfortunate group; because the gippo box is never laundered, the poor normal child will be forced to run around in fat kid's ball sweat and poor kid's fleas.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Jon Blyth
If a girl touches you, or even accidentally brushed past you, you may become quite hysterical and shout "girl disease! girl disease!". It is then necessary to touch the nearest boy, and jeer "Girl disease tick - one nil" at him. I have no idea what girls thought about this game/ritual.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Andrew Manning
I'll tell you - they said "boys are so stupid, let's be lesbians and have some attempt at a reciprocal, loving relationship while they all fuck each other senseless like bad pigs".
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Jon Blyth
There is a time of life when everyone writes down the names of all the girls in the year and then award points for their key features. Attributes such as "breasts", "arse" and "face" were all judged and graded. We also had a category for whether she was a slag or not - higher points obviously awarded for slags. We kept our top trump chart fairly quiet, but by the time it had been handed down to my brother's year, they actually drew individual cards for each girl, had them laminated and would then sit and play "Girl Top Trumps" in the middle of the class each lunchtime.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Greg Brown
Is it me or was my school the only one where girls wrapped themselves up in skipping ropes and behaved like horses, or did this madness exist elsewhere? The guys at my school never really understood what was going on.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Matthew Sheridan
Actually, the girls were indulging in experimental lesbian fantasy, as this frame from "The Adventures of Gwendoline" by John Willie illustrates.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Jon Blyth
It happened at our school too. In junior school there was a whole 'riding school' thing where we brought in riding crops (or if you were a poor kid and didn't have a pony, you used a stick) and jumped over branches propped between trees, hitting ourselves with said implements and pretending to be on horseback. Or perhaps simply preparing ourselves for future bondage sessions. It was run by the most popular girls, and you could only join if you jumped a set course with sufficient style. Let's hear it for all-girl catholic schooling...
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Lyssa
Oh absolutely. When the monitors first caught us at it, they sternly told us we could play with the jumpropes only if we stopped "lassoing" them around each other's necks. With this logical alternative taken away, we then became extremely creative in bondage: arms, legs, waist, you name it. Being tethered to a tree was the coup de grace. Luckily a hill on the playground concealed our activities, but when a girl who hadn't come back to class after lunch was discovered voluntarily hogtied to a small spruce... Well, you can guess that they didn't let ANYONE check out jumpropes after that.
approved Apr 22 2005, submitted Jan 20 2005 by Name Withheld
Our riding school, in which the best girls wrapped jumpers around their waists and were ridden by a girl holding the arms, came under attack. Our innocent adventures were legendarym until two girls, who didn't seem to harbour any equine aspirations whatsoever, called themselves Trixy and the Magic Mule, and attacked the poor, popular horses. Obviously not in with the Cheshire Set.
We solved this problem by throwing stones at them, and calling them "common".
approved Aug 8 2005, submitted May 17 2005 by Faye Wickham
At my school one girl would be the horse, with the skipping rope tied round her, and another would 'ride' her, running along behind holding the handles.

So the game pretty much consisted of running, and I had no idea there was anything wrong with selling videos of it to sweaty old men.
approved Mar 1 2003, submitted Feb 28 2003 by anonymous user
Tell a fit but dim girl that only girls can touch their elbows together behind their backs. If she tests this, she will push her chest out, thereby providing the watching boys with their daily ration of cheapies.

Don't bother asking flat-chested girls, no matter how fit or dim they are. Wait until 6th form when they'll probably have caught up.
approved Mar 7 2006, submitted Feb 18 2006 by rum bor
French for "lodging" or "resting place". If found on a blackboard, a single rapid swipe transforms the word easily into "git". It helps phonetically if you remove the circumflex, but I'm a busy man with many blackboards to tend to.
approved Dec 17 2002, submitted Dec 15 2002 by Dupli Citous
Something I shouldn't have shouted when Mr Dhondy walked into the room.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Paul Reuben
My friend Andrew Glanville's nickname throughout primary school was 'glans'. It is only now, with the twin gifts of hindsight and a working knowledge of cock biology, that I realise we were unintentionally and unknowingly calling him a bell-end.
approved Oct 22 2003, submitted Oct 21 2003 by Raz .
He knew what you were calling him all along. No doubt you migrated to the "Open All Hours" inspired "guh-guh, guh-guh, guh-lanville!" in later years, too. He harbours deep resentment and serious neuroses as a result. Oh, hang on, you said Andrew Glanville. Ah. Yes. Well at least I didn't suffer alone.
approved Oct 22 2003, submitted Oct 22 2003 by Phil Glansvile
I went to a youth group at the age of seven. One of the leaders, in a vindictive mood, confided to all of us that the other leader had a glass eye - and if we snuck up behind her and hit her in the back of the head, it would fall out.

He also told us not to tell her we knew about the glass eye, because she was extremely sensitive about it. The fact that she would be uspet by us mentioning her glass eye, but not by hordes of children punching her in the back of the head seemed perfectly reasonable to us.

She didn't have a glass eye, of course. So it never fell out. We tried for ages to get that damn eye out.
approved Jun 1 2005, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Jimbob N
Tales of terrible retribution, sung to the tune of "Glory, Glory, Halilujah"

Glory, Glory, Halilujah
Teacher hit me with the ruler,
Met 'im at the door, with a smoking '44
And 'e ain't my teacher no more!


Glory, Glory, Halilujah
Teacher hit me with the ruler,
Met 'im at the bank,
With a Sherman army tank,
And 'e ain't my teacher no more!

Slightly dated since children learned they could get their teachers sacked for as much as winking at them, and since parents learned to sue.

Log says:
Trying to think of new rhymes is more bother than it's worth. You won't win kudos for singing "I met him at the grocers, and festooned him with C4 explosives", and even less for something as fey as "Met him on a misty hill, stabbed him with a poison-tipped quill". Stick with the tanks and guns.
approved Jan 20 2003, submitted Jan 17 2003 by Cullen McGough
Glory, glory hallelujah,
Teacher hit me with a ruler
So I punched her in the belly
And she wobbled like a jelly
And she hopped like a kangaroo.

This is a good example of children losing focus at the end and just saying anything for the fucking sake of it.
approved Sep 13 2003, submitted Jul 29 2003 by Name Withheld
My favourite school lesson was woodwork which no-one ever took seriously. Our lessons consisted of cheerfully making that glue (the one you mix in two parts, araldite or something?) and then deftly flicking juicy globs of it onto the back of an unpopular kids neck. The instinctual reaction is of course to try and wipe the blob off. This meant that the unpopular kids in woodwork had to spend the lesson with their hands firmly stuck to the backs of their heads. Our all-time record was getting 11 out of 30 kids thus glued and one of those kids was a double who looked particulary foolish with both hands stuck to the back of his head (as if relaxing) and he spent the rest of the lesson crying and asking other people to dry his eyes for him. What really crowned this fulfilling hobby was the fact that rumours were rife concerning what our woodwork teacher had once been caught doing to a boy bent over a woodwork table and so no-one would approach him and ask for help when they were unable to move their glued hands.
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Michael France
Jello: a mildly cruel game played in the backseat of a car. It requires at least two people (three is best) and a bench-type seat. When the car turns a corner, the person on the inside of the turn yells "JELLO!" and slams purposefully and violently into the person on the outside. It is not a good idea to initiate a game of Jello if you are the weakest of the participants. Although it can easily turn malicious, Jello is usually a fair game - everyone gets jello'd into at some point. (I suppose in England this would be called "jelly," unless things have changed since I was there last...)
approved Nov 24 2002, submitted Nov 24 2002 by Sir B
Also in this range are fountain-pen flicking, and in the chemistry lab, mild acid-filled pipette flicking. Yes, mild acid. We were reckless children, not Bangladeshi honour killers.
approved Feb 17 2006, submitted Oct 7 2005 by anonymous user