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PrintableIn First Grade, I slid down the red pipe slide sideways, and landed on the wood chips on my butt. The ground was a bit wet, and a BUNCH of wood slivers went down my pants. They were in my underwear and everything. I tried to get it all out, but I remember sitting on the rug in Mrs. Dominichelli's classroom, fighting back tears. My butt was so itchy and painful.  For some reason, I thought the world was going to end.Oh shit, my hat done fell off | |
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INSATIABLE said: In First Grade, I slid down the red pipe slide sideways, and landed on the wood chips on my butt. The ground was a bit wet, and a BUNCH of wood slivers went down my pants. They were in my underwear and everything. I tried to get it all out, but I remember sitting on the rug in Mrs. Dominichelli's classroom, fighting back tears. My butt was so itchy and painful.
For some reason, I thought the world was going to end. I know that feeling...
When I was little I always wore two long plaits in my hair...someone pulled out the band and one of my plaits unravelled, I was so upset and asked an older girl if she could plait my hair... (I thought my Mum would kill me for some reason, and this really was the end of the world) but the girl said, I cant plait real hair, only dollies hair...  [This message was edited Sat May 8 11:28:45 2004 by REDFEATHERS] | |
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Kindergarten: We made these huge stapled painted fish with cardboard stuffed inside. We had to sing some song, and I was upset because I had the lead and my mom didn't show up.
Second grade: I met my (still) best friend. We ate the red math counting beans raw and threw them into the fish tank. We'd sit in back and make fun of everyone else. Every recess, we would hang upside-down on the monkey bars. We'd just hang there and stare at each other's faces turn bright red. We wouldn't do anything else. Third Grade: I made up all sorts of elaborate lies in my Journal about my uncle being tortured in the Gulf War. They made me go to the "Sunshine Club"- a program for 'troubled' children of divorced parents. You had to sit and play while the counselor stood behind you and took notes. She gave me stars on my card, though. I also stole Justin Sessions' 3-pack of Twinkies. That really pissed off my dad. Fourth Grade: Different school and grading system: I got my first F. I was grounded for a whole quarter, until I got all A's and one B+ - math. I was so pissed that I ripped up my report card. Won first place in the School Spelling Bee against an 8th grader. Fifth Grade: I created The Stuff Club: Its secret purposes were to humiliate the popular kids, charge large weekly fees, and be generally obnoxious. I still have my roster and Board of Directors: there were over 50 kids in the club. Also won first place in the Dance Club. Sixth Grade: We made Egyptian tombs out of shoeboxes, aluminum foil, and Ken dolls. Mine was gay, and wore a hat with a flower on it and a dress. Got a D-. Worked in the cafeteria scooping muck and washing dishes for free food and popsicles. Played "old folks home' with my friends. I was an old man named Vernon. He had Alzheimer's. Seventh Grade: In love with Jonathan Taylor Thomas. Got the first Student of the Month award. Made an elaborate dance to "The Naming of Cats" by T.S. Elliot with my then-best friend, Vanessa Vega. She was a Jehovah's Witness and her parents wouldn't let me over to their house. It worked for a while when we did bible studies, but they soon caught on when they caught us singing "Do your boobs hang low?". Went to my first concert: All 4 One. Eighth Grade: Best year of my life. Had a large group of friends. We were the most unlikely bunch. We had the valedictorian, Ethan Knoop, and Kim Whitfield, the gangbanger-wannabe. I was Class Clown in the yearbook. Had my favorite teacher, Mr. Crump, who ran the mile in a dress because he lost our Language Arts / Social Studies class in some sort of bet. I never felt more beautiful or intelligent that year. I think back on it fondly more than any time in my life. After our 8th grade promotion ceremony at the end of the year, I wept all night at Kim's house in her oversized bathtub with Jordan Pasquini about our childhood and innocence slipping away from us. High School was so bad that I refuse to think about it. Oh shit, my hat done fell off | |
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When I was in the infants (about 2nd grade) I noticed a girl in the canteen with a yummy looking meringue on her plate instead of our rather dry, boring spotted dick! I was told by another little girl next to me that Isabelle had a flour allergy. Of course, thinking this was my ticket to yummy desserts, I put my hand up and told the dinner lady of my 'terrible flour allergy'. I was immediately given an apple  and my (now) delicious looking spotted dick was whipped away. I also had a lot of explaining to do when my parents received a letter from school requesting an indepth description of my dietry needs!!! 
Distance is to love, as a breeze is to a flame…
…it enkindles the great and extinguishes the small. | |
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couldUB said: When I was in the infants (about 2nd grade) I noticed a girl in the canteen with a yummy looking meringue on her plate instead of our rather dry, boring spotted dick! I was told by another little girl next to me that Isabelle had a flour allergy. Of course, thinking this was my ticket to yummy desserts, I put my hand up and told the dinner lady of my 'terrible flour allergy'. I was immediately given an apple
and my (now) delicious looking spotted dick was whipped away. I also had a lot of explaining to do when my parents received a letter from school requesting an indepth description of my dietry needs!!!
i hope things have cleared up for you by now! | |
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2the9s said: What a great thread, Llee.
 School was such a pleasant time and formative in so many ways. Just thinking about it now gives me a sense of peace... I remember in kindergarten we didn't really have lunch because we only had a half a day of school, but we would have "snack time" instead, which usually consisted of cookies and milk.  I remember that each week the teacher would appoint a milk monitor, who was in charge of going down the hall to the cafeteria and getting the requisite number of milk containers, straws, and napkins. This task was usually assigned to one of the "good" boys or girls, someone the teacher felt was worthy and responsible. The first time I wasn't chosen, the task went to little Lisa whatsername...obviously the teacher couldn't tell Lisa was just being a kiss ass! I wasn't worried though, I was sure my virtue would shine through and I would be chosen next. So I waited and drank my milk in silence. But as the months went by it became clear to me that this position was politically motivated or perhaps that the other students were bribing the teacher or had friends in high places! Why else would the teacher choose that little piece of shit Craig!! He never got enough straws for everybody either!! That bitch!! That know-nothing is probably in jail today! Grrr! That made me so mad!! It's fucking milk for crying out loud!! Just let me go down the hall and get the fucking milk!! I'm not asking to clap the erasers or anything, damn!!! I'll have your job!! I swear to God!!!!
Ahhh good times...  brilliant! | |
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IAmTheTouch said: 2the9s said: What a great thread, Llee.
School was such a pleasant time and formative in so many ways. Just thinking about it now gives me a sense of peace... I remember in kindergarten we didn't really have lunch because we only had a half a day of school, but we would have "snack time" instead, which usually consisted of cookies and milk. I remember that each week the teacher would appoint a milk monitor, who was in charge of going down the hall to the cafeteria and getting the requisite number of milk containers, straws, and napkins. This task was usually assigned to one of the "good" boys or girls, someone the teacher felt was worthy and responsible. The first time I wasn't chosen, the task went to little Lisa whatsername...obviously the teacher couldn't tell Lisa was just being a kiss ass! I wasn't worried though, I was sure my virtue would shine through and I would be chosen next. So I waited and drank my milk in silence. But as the months went by it became clear to me that this position was politically motivated or perhaps that the other students were bribing the teacher or had friends in high places! Why else would the teacher choose that little piece of shit Craig!! He never got enough straws for everybody either!! That bitch!! That know-nothing is probably in jail today! Grrr! That made me so mad!! It's fucking milk for crying out loud!! Just let me go down the hall and get the fucking milk!! I'm not asking to clap the erasers or anything, damn!!! I'll have your job!! I swear to God!!!!
Ahhh good times... brilliant! And look how 2the9s turned out... 
Maybe if he was allowed to get the milk, he would be a better person now.. Life Can be a Bitch..  | |
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This thread gave me lots of smiles, though, I still wonder what "spotted dick" is. What is that!?
I remember that in 1st and 2nd grade I was always being sent home for sprained ankles and most days had an ace bandage wrapped around one of my ankles. The boys would chase us girls around the playground, and I had a thing for those cork, wedge heels and would wear them most days. Needless to say, I'd end up twisting my ankle and spraining it while speeding around the corner of the schoolto avoid being held down and kissed by yucky boy lips. In 4th or 5th grade I convinced many students to buy "tickets" to either concerts or plays, which would be held on the playground at noon recess. The tickets were merely pieces of paper that I had written on and they would pay 25 cents for each ticket. Then, at recess two of my good friends and I would act out the concert or play. I did this for a few years, making a bit of cash... the plays and concerts I vividly remember doing through the years were Shawn Cassidy, Rick Springfield, and The Dark Crystal. Later, I started selling my own "stationary", which was, again, pieces of paper on which I would doodle flowers and what-not and stamps that had doodles to look like stamps... book marks, the whole bit. Well, all of this quickly ended when Teresa R. showed her stationary, that she was so proud of having purchased, to the principal and I was called down and told not to sell anything else at school. In order to get out of school once a week, I talked my mom and dad into letting me go to church. The bus would come and get us an hour into school and the ones who had signed up for it would ride the bus to the church, while the others would stay in class and learn and we'd sit there and listen to the pastor talk. This lasted for about a month, until the church pulled me out of the program because I asked too many questions about what the pastor was reading to us from the Bible. And, I guess to shorten this up... I'll end with one final memory from my grade school years. When I was in first grade, Missy H., whose grandfather was dating my grandmother at the time, would constantly tease me because I was in 3rd grade reading and had to be sent to the 3rd grade classroom when reading started. I hated it and felt out of place going to read with the older kids. I hated her because I thought she was a spoiled brat. So, one day I brought in some Strawberry Lip Gloss and I went up to her all sweet like and told her to smell this wonderful gloss. She did and said that she wanted it. I told her that this gloss was special and I had something to show her, and if she went along with it I would give her the gloss... she agreed. I then rubbed the gloss all over her desk and told her to smell it now. She bent down to smell it and I took my hand and wacked her head, face-first on her desk as hard as I could. Of course, she started screaming uncontrollably, I immediately went up to my teacher and told her what I had done and asked her what she would like to do with me. She didn't know... but later in the day I had the assignment of cleaning out the boys and girls bathrooms. Missy received a broken nose, which I never felt the least bit bad for giving to her. It worked out good because she never annoyed me any further when the families got together, because she would stay as far away as possible from me. | |
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AzureStarr said: This thread gave me lots of smiles, though, I still wonder what "spotted dick" is. What is that!?
I remember that in 1st and 2nd grade I was always being sent home for sprained ankles and most days had an ace bandage wrapped around one of my ankles. The boys would chase us girls around the playground, and I had a thing for those cork, wedge heels and would wear them most days. Needless to say, I'd end up twisting my ankle and spraining it while speeding around the corner of the schoolto avoid being held down and kissed by yucky boy lips. In 4th or 5th grade I convinced many students to buy "tickets" to either concerts or plays, which would be held on the playground at noon recess. The tickets were merely pieces of paper that I had written on and they would pay 25 cents for each ticket. Then, at recess two of my good friends and I would act out the concert or play. I did this for a few years, making a bit of cash... the plays and concerts I vividly remember doing through the years were Shawn Cassidy, Rick Springfield, and The Dark Crystal. Later, I started selling my own "stationary", which was, again, pieces of paper on which I would doodle flowers and what-not and stamps that had doodles to look like stamps... book marks, the whole bit. Well, all of this quickly ended when Teresa R. showed her stationary, that she was so proud of having purchased, to the principal and I was called down and told not to sell anything else at school. In order to get out of school once a week, I talked my mom and dad into letting me go to church. The bus would come and get us an hour into school and the ones who had signed up for it would ride the bus to the church, while the others would stay in class and learn and we'd sit there and listen to the pastor talk. This lasted for about a month, until the church pulled me out of the program because I asked too many questions about what the pastor was reading to us from the Bible. And, I guess to shorten this up... I'll end with one final memory from my grade school years. When I was in first grade, Missy H., whose grandfather was dating my grandmother at the time, would constantly tease me because I was in 3rd grade reading and had to be sent to the 3rd grade classroom when reading started. I hated it and felt out of place going to read with the older kids. I hated her because I thought she was a spoiled brat. So, one day I brought in some Strawberry Lip Gloss and I went up to her all sweet like and told her to smell this wonderful gloss. She did and said that she wanted it. I told her that this gloss was special and I had something to show her, and if she went along with it I would give her the gloss... she agreed. I then rubbed the gloss all over her desk and told her to smell it now. She bent down to smell it and I took my hand and wacked her head, face-first on her desk as hard as I could. Of course, she started screaming uncontrollably, I immediately went up to my teacher and told her what I had done and asked her what she would like to do with me. She didn't know... but later in the day I had the assignment of cleaning out the boys and girls bathrooms. Missy received a broken nose, which I never felt the least bit bad for giving to her. It worked out good because she never annoyed me any further when the families got together, because she would stay as far away as possible from me. OWWWWW Remind me not to get on the wrong side o' you!
Spotted Dick, by the way, is a typical British dessert that they love to dish up at school. Its basically sponge cake with raisins in... ...class dismissed!  Distance is to love, as a breeze is to a flame…
…it enkindles the great and extinguishes the small. | |
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couldUB said: OWWWWW Remind me not to get on the wrong side o' you!
Spotted Dick, by the way, is a typical British dessert that they love to dish up at school. Its basically sponge cake with raisins in... ...class dismissed! Okay... now I know what it is! It sounds good... I really don't remember our school lunches. All I remember is the soggy school pizza. | |
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couldUB said: AzureStarr said: This thread gave me lots of smiles, though, I still wonder what "spotted dick" is. What is that!?
OWWWWW Remind me not to get on the wrong side o' you!
Spotted Dick, by the way, is a typical British dessert that they love to dish up at school. Its basically sponge cake with raisins in... ...class dismissed! Spotted Dick and Custard
 | |
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REDFEATHERS said: couldUB said: OWWWWW Remind me not to get on the wrong side o' you!
Spotted Dick, by the way, is a typical British dessert that they love to dish up at school. Its basically sponge cake with raisins in... ...class dismissed! Spotted Dick and Custard
It does look yummy... but, I don't like custard.
(Glad to see you here, Red...) | |
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AzureStarr said: REDFEATHERS said: Spotted Dick and Custard
It does look yummy... but, I don't like custard.
(Glad to see you here, Red...)  you dont like custard?????
Shalom Azure..  | |
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REDFEATHERS said: couldUB said: OWWWWW Remind me not to get on the wrong side o' you!
Spotted Dick, by the way, is a typical British dessert that they love to dish up at school. Its basically sponge cake with raisins in... ...class dismissed! Spotted Dick and Custard
MMMMM, What was i thinking of. Keep yer meringue!!!Distance is to love, as a breeze is to a flame…
…it enkindles the great and extinguishes the small. | |
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REDFEATHERS said: AzureStarr said: It does look yummy... but, I don't like custard.
(Glad to see you here, Red...) you dont like custard?????
Shalom Azure.. No... I can't stand custard. It makes me gag.
Shalom, baby! | |
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Great stories! !!!!! I've really enjoyed reading them all!!!!  | |
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Lleena said: Great stories!
!!!!! I've really enjoyed reading them all!!!! Thanks. | |
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2the9s said: Lleena said: Great stories!
!!!!! I've really enjoyed reading them all!!!! Thanks. Why dont you be the Org milk monitor 9sey!!? | |
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Lleena said: 2the9s said: Thanks. Why dont you be the Org milk monitor 9sey!!? Really?? cause I'd be really good at it!! I'm ready I swear!!
Oh boyoboyoboy!  | |
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2the9s said: Lleena said: Why dont you be the Org milk monitor 9sey!!? Really?? cause I'd be really good at it!! I'm ready I swear!!
Oh boyoboyoboy! Go milk a few cows! We need fresh milk 9sey! | |
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Lleena said: 2the9s said: Really?? cause I'd be really good at it!! I'm ready I swear!!
Oh boyoboyoboy! Go milk a few cows! We need fresh milk 9sey!Whoo hoo!  | |
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I never went to school because my family was too poor.
But my Dad did his best and beat me with a slide-rule. | |
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doctormcmeekle said: I never went to school because my family was too poor.
But my Dad did his best and beat me with a slide-rule.
I bet that was almost as good as the real thing
"..My work is personal, I'm a working person, I put in work, I work with purpose.." | |
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2the9s said: What a great thread, Llee.
School was such a pleasant time and formative in so many ways. Just thinking about it now gives me a sense of peace... I remember in kindergarten we didn't really have lunch because we only had a half a day of school, but we would have "snack time" instead, which usually consisted of cookies and milk. I remember that each week the teacher would appoint a milk monitor, who was in charge of going down the hall to the cafeteria and getting the requisite number of milk containers, straws, and napkins. This task was usually assigned to one of the "good" boys or girls, someone the teacher felt was worthy and responsible. The first time I wasn't chosen, the task went to little Lisa whatsername...obviously the teacher couldn't tell Lisa was just being a kiss ass! I wasn't worried though, I was sure my virtue would shine through and I would be chosen next. So I waited and drank my milk in silence. But as the months went by it became clear to me that this position was politically motivated or perhaps that the other students were bribing the teacher or had friends in high places! Why else would the teacher choose that little piece of shit Craig!! He never got enough straws for everybody either!! That bitch!! That know-nothing is probably in jail today! Grrr! That made me so mad!! It's fucking milk for crying out loud!! Just let me go down the hall and get the fucking milk!! I'm not asking to clap the erasers or anything, damn!!! I'll have your job!! I swear to God!!!!
Ahhh good times...
Oh shit!  .... Did I just show abit too much Rezpec' in PUBLIC for 2the9s? .... 
"..My work is personal, I'm a working person, I put in work, I work with purpose.." | |
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Lleena said: 2the9s said: Really?? cause I'd be really good at it!! I'm ready I swear!!
Oh boyoboyoboy! Go milk a few cows! We need fresh milk 9sey!He will prolly end up milking bulls...
Remember King Pin? | |
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2the9s said: What a great thread, Llee.
School was such a pleasant time and formative in so many ways. Just thinking about it now gives me a sense of peace... I remember in kindergarten we didn't really have lunch because we only had a half a day of school, but we would have "snack time" instead, which usually consisted of cookies and milk. I remember that each week the teacher would appoint a milk monitor, who was in charge of going down the hall to the cafeteria and getting the requisite number of milk containers, straws, and napkins. This task was usually assigned to one of the "good" boys or girls, someone the teacher felt was worthy and responsible. The first time I wasn't chosen, the task went to little Lisa whatsername...obviously the teacher couldn't tell Lisa was just being a kiss ass! I wasn't worried though, I was sure my virtue would shine through and I would be chosen next. So I waited and drank my milk in silence. But as the months went by it became clear to me that this position was politically motivated or perhaps that the other students were bribing the teacher or had friends in high places! Why else would the teacher choose that little piece of shit Craig!! He never got enough straws for everybody either!! That bitch!! That know-nothing is probably in jail today! Grrr! That made me so mad!! It's fucking milk for crying out loud!! Just let me go down the hall and get the fucking milk!! I'm not asking to clap the erasers or anything, damn!!! I'll have your job!! I swear to God!!!!
Ahhh good times... milk breaks! i remember those too awww | |
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Oh man, I got good and bad memories from school.... Here's a bad'un.... I was 6 years old in primary school and we had a morning assembly (lt was like a daily get together for all the classes and teachers, where school news was given out, hymns were sung, Bible parables told,etc., etc.). Anyways, how it worked was that the kids sat on the floor in the sports hall in long rows in their classes (4 classes in all i.e. 4 long rows) with the respective teachers of each class sitting in chairs at the end of the rows. The Headmaster used to conduct the assembly from the front. Well, this particular morning the Headmaster when on and when on for absolutely ages and I was starting to feel uncomfortable sat on the floor. While he was yappin' away at the front I put my arm up to get his or any of the other teachers' attention. The headmaster at the front didnt see me but my class teacher did! However she just shushed me down  , thinking I was just being disruptive. I patiently waited for about 5 minutes, then I furiously stuck my arm up again trying to gain someone's attention... Ignored! AGAIN!
Another 5 minutes later there was a huge scream from my class mates around me.... They all just jumped up alarmingly either side of me!!... All the teachers and the Headmaster couldn't ignore me this time.... as I was just sat there on the floor cross-legged... with a large puddle of 'wee wee' surrounding me half a meter in each direction!!! 
The whole school was looking at me... the kids were going  ... the teachers were like .... and I was like  pretending nothing had happened like "it wasnt me miss!"..... but I wasnt fooling anyone 
"..My work is personal, I'm a working person, I put in work, I work with purpose.." | |
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senik said: Oh man, I got good and bad memories from school.... Here's a bad'un.... I was 6 years old in primary school and we had a morning assembly (lt was like a daily get together for all the classes and teachers, where school news was given out, hymns were sung, Bible parables told,etc., etc.). Anyways, how it worked was that the kids sat on the floor in the sports hall in long rows in their classes (4 classes in all i.e. 4 long rows) with the respective teachers of each class sitting in chairs at the end of the rows. The Headmaster used to conduct the assembly from the front. Well, this particular morning the Headmaster when on and when on for absolutely ages and I was starting to feel uncomfortable sat on the floor. While he was yappin' away at the front I put my arm up to get his or any of the other teachers' attention. The headmaster at the front didnt see me but my class teacher did! However she just shushed me down , thinking I was just being disruptive. I patiently waited for about 5 minutes, then I furiously stuck my arm up again trying to gain someone's attention... Ignored! AGAIN!
Another 5 minutes later there was a huge scream from my class mates around me.... They all just jumped up alarmingly either side of me!!... All the teachers and the Headmaster couldn't ignore me this time.... as I was just sat there on the floor cross-legged... with a large puddle of 'wee wee' surrounding me half a meter in each direction!!!
The whole school was looking at me... the kids were going ... the teachers were like .... and I was like pretending nothing had happened like "it wasnt me miss!"..... but I wasnt fooling anyone
  | |
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If it's any consolation senik, somebody at my school went further than that. In the nativity play all the little ones normally played sheep.
So there was this little boy - like just turned 5 - who was terrified at having to play a sheep in front of everyone. And he had, uh, a "number 2" accident when on stage. And he was in white. Poor thing. [This message was edited Sun May 9 15:38:52 2004 by TheFrog] | |
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TheFrog said: If it's any consolation senik, somebody at my school went further than that. In the nativity play all the little ones normally played sheep.
So there was this little boy - like just turned 5 - who was terrified at having to play a sheep in front of everyone. And he had, uh, a "number 2" accident when on stage. And he was in white. Poor thing.
[This message was edited Sun May 9 15:38:52 2004 by TheFrog] Oh you lie man! 'coz guess what??? I also lost control of my bladder in a primary school play too! (although I agree it aint as bad as shitting up myself on stage). I was playing a North American Indian in just a pair of jeans and let me tell you bruv, those jeans felt about 20X heavier once I let my waters loose in them. The funny thing was that all the kids in the play just carried as per normal, concentrating on their performances and getting their lines right, but you should've seen the faces of the parent 
Luckily, mine where not there to see my 'Method Acting Performance'! 
"..My work is personal, I'm a working person, I put in work, I work with purpose.." | |
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