This is fucking true, I swear, nobody ever really believes this when I tell them, as their school was never as fucked up as mine. At Eaglesfield School - a boys comprehensive in South East London - from around 1985 - 1990 we had a supply teacher called Ms. Alexander. Ms. Alexander was a semi-op transsexual who had had a boob job, but I don't think anything else. As a man, he must have put the likes of Clint Eastwood and John Wayne to shame with his uncompromisingly masculine looks. Therefore, as a women, it was a fucking tragedy. REALLY REALLY man-like, with a square-jaw, muscular legs and a deep voice. She used to wear ropey women's clothes from Oxfam that were out of date in that uniquely Oxfam way, including her infamous 'bullet belt' - a belt made of rifle shells. She drove a canary yellow Ford Cortina Mk2, with leopard print seat covers, and which for quite a while had no windscreen.nnPupils would always know when she had entered a classroom, as there would be a massive cheer from down the corridor, and the chanting of 'trannie trannie trannie' would begin.nnShe had an uphill struggle to control a class, but kids would always push it to the limit to see her freak out. She would shout FUCKING loud, and throw things. She chucked a desk at a kid called Danny Hill once. Then she came up to him, and ranted at him for about a minute. Her face about an inch from his.... everyone thought she had cracked and the class was deadly silent. When she stopped, everyone looked at Danny in a way that suggested 'you fucking done it this time'. I think he had blatantly called her a 'fucking tranny' or something. After about five seconds of deadly silence, he wiped his face, and replied 'don't spit at me when you're talking,' and the whole class went loopy with joy. Nobody in my class was ever scared of her again.nnAlexander often used to pretend to go and get Mr. Keith, who was the strictest teacher in the school, and a deputy head. This would shit everyone up, so we all behaved. If people pushed it still, she would leave the class to get him. On one occasion, she took forever, so someone went outside the class to see if they could see her coming back with 'Keithy'. She was hiding on the stairwell, twiddling hr thumbs, pretending to 'get Mr.Keith'. The student then asked if she was coming back in the class.....no one ever took her threats seriously again.nnWe also had a an open stair plan in one of the buildings, where you could see the people coming up from the floor below. Often - usually on a Friday - during class changes in the afternoon, a group of classes comprising of 'older students' would cross paths. Ms Alexander would also seem to cross these paths too, and thus, everyone would gather on the stairs to gob on her back from above. Often she would enter classes with a back covered in teenage saliva.nnOh yeah....if she was in a good mood, you could persuade her to sing Beatles songs...Love Me Do being her favourite, and also, she did the best impression ever of Edward Woodward as The Equaliser....'Join me, Edward Woodward after the break, for The Equaliser'. Classic.nnThere are loads of Alexander stories to tell....I am forever grateful for the Labour run Greenwich council for being too tight to spend money on full-time teaching staff, as they provided me and my friends with the best laughs of our school days.
This was a martial art invented and practiced in my secondary school. Pioneered by Matthew Roche and Jason Walker, it involved opponents (one-on-one or team event) running at each other at high speed, jumping into the air, whilst turning so that the bums of each opponent would clash. The main idea was to knock your opponent off balance in mid-air so that they would land flat on the concrete with a rather loud slap. It was also customary to chant 'chicken bumswing' in a mild Oriental voice whilst in battle.
A smelly person. You don't have to be huge and black, but it helps.
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