I WOKE UP THIS EARLY MORNING

 

I woke up this early morning

And I have realised all my worst fears

Because our new MP is an old classmate

We used to call Tiny Tears

I WOULD LIKE TO KILL THE PERSON

 

I would like to kill the person

Who said school days were fun

I was taught by Birds of pray,

More commonly known as nuns

THE PREFECT AND THE OIK

 

“Why are you always such a dirty little oik?”

The prefect asked

“You are the dirtiest pupil by far,

Look at me, I’m always clean and smart”

The boy replied

“I'm closer to the ground than you are”

SAMUEL WAS LATE FOR SCHOOL

Samuel was late for School

“It was the sign” in his defence he said

The teachers asked what sign

“The one that says, “Slow, School Ahead”” 

LUVVAGE

 

My pencil case is in love

But not with a pencil

But with two schoolbags

It must be bi-satchel.

A TRIP TO THE FARM

 

When our class

Visited the local farm

We had a lovely day

 

And on the bus home

We sang a song

About our lovely day

 

The sheep go baa

The cows go moo

The ducks go quack

Chickens cock a doodle doo

 

The shepherd says hi

The cowman says hello

Get off that fucking tractor

We hear the farmer bellow

CHANGING SCHOOLS

Things have certainly changed

Since I was a boy at school

No one carried drugs or knives

Not even the dumbest fool

Any search of pupils in my day

Would merely have resulted in

The seizure of a handful of fags

And the confiscation of a catapult 

A WHALE OF A TALE

 

Little Maya was talking to her teacher About Jonah and the Whale

Her teacher said it was physically impossible and it was just a tale

Little Maya insisted to her teacher Jonah was swallowed by a Whale

Her teacher reiterated it was not possible and that it was just a tale

The Little Maya said "I will ask Jonah When I get to heaven."

Irritated the teacher replied “what if Jonah didn’t go to heaven”

“What if Jonah went to hell instead how will you ask him then?”

Little Maya smiled and then she said “Well you can ask him then"

TESTING SEX

 

At the end of the day

The teacher announces

“There is a test tomorrow

I will accept few excuses”

“Only a nuclear war,

Death or a serious injury

To yourself or one of

Your immediate family”

One smart ass inquired

By way of an interruption

“What if I’m suffering?

From total sexual exhaustion”

There was a lot of laughter

The teacher just smiled

Then she said to the student

“Write with your other hand”

Uncanny Tales – (022) Linda’s Corker

It was an ordinary afternoon in 1970 when I was in the fourth year of Secondary School at Alexander Park Comprehensive School. 

It had only been called Alexandra Park as long as I had been going there, before that, it was Cecil Rhodes Secondary Modern but as Haringey was such a racially mixed borough political correctness reared its ugly head, long before it was even a thing, and the name was changed.

The racial mix of the area was well reflected in the student body, in fact the School assembly was like a session at the United Nations.

We were sitting at the back of Mr Cooke’s 4^th year biology class.

It was the first class after lunch, and we were watching a very boring natural history film about mountain goats.

Rich and I had taken second sitting dinners which consisted of liver and bacon whereas Wendy’s lunch was made up largely of cider.

“That billy goat’s beard looks like Palmers fanny” Wendy said out of the blue and giggled

“What?” I said taken by surprise

“Who’s?” Rich asked

“Claire Palmers fanny looks like that” she said and pointed at a large brown goat on the screen.

“Seriously?” Rich said

“But she’s so small” I said irrelevantly

Claire Palmer was the smallest girl in our year by a distance, small and plain with straight lank hair and a freckled complexion, looking back she always looked like she should have been a year or two behind us but I guess she stopped growing when her pubic hair started. 

I had known her since junior school, but she was the quiet shy type and I don’t think she said more than a few words to me in all that time.

To be truthful she wasn’t really on my radar but at the moment Wendy made her lurid statement Claire became significantly more interesting.

“She’s the hairiest girl in our year” Wendy continued

“What’s yours like?” I asked taking advantage of her alcohol induced indiscretion.

“Ask him” she said nodding in Rich’s direction

“You’ve been in Wendy’s drawers?” I quizzed Rich in total shock, and more than a little jealously, not because I fancied Wendy, but I hadn’t been in anyone’s pants except my own.

Rich just blushed, so I punched him hard the arm.

I couldn’t believe he’d had his digits among Wendy’s ginger pubes and furthermore that he hadn’t told me all about it, he was my best mate after all, and furthermore he was a real drip and he’d scored before me.

“Linda McLean’s got a corker though” Wendy said a little too loud as Linda turned around and looked straight at me.

 

As we were walking to the next lesson Wendy suddenly felt sick and went off to throw up, Rich had French in the annex and I had German in the main block and it was when I was on my own that I felt a tug on my jacket sleeve.

“What were you lot talking about in Biology?” A girl asked and when I turned around, I saw it was Linda McLean with a frown on her face.

I liked Linda even though she was completely flat up top, but I had to admit I liked her even more after finding out she was more substantially equipped down below.

“What?” I said

“What were you saying about me in biology?” she asked forcefully

“We were talking about the flicks” I lied “Rich wanted to see “Rio Lobo”, John Wayne’s latest and Wendy fancied “Love Story”“

“I heard my name mentioned” she continued, and I shuffled my feet as I struggled to find an answer.

“Well um….” I mumbled “I said I was going to ask you to the flickers, and Wendy said “Great idea, Linda’s a corker”

She didn’t speak for a moment then she said

“Well are you going to ask me then?”

 

That Saturday night on the back row of the ABC Muswell Hill I confirmed Wendy’s assessment that it was indeed a corker and I was left to speculate that if little Claire Palmer was considerably more luxuriant down below than Linda then she must have had to wear bigger knickers.

The following summer at the Durnsford Road Lido I found out first hand so to speak but that’s another story.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Uncanny Tales – (021) Where’s Winifred Bliss?

 

It was a blistering hot day in 1969 when the third year of Secondary School started, and Alexander Park Comprehensive School was heaving with familiar faces. 

It had only been called Alexandra Park as long as I had been going there, before that, it was Cecil Rhodes Secondary Modern but as Haringey was such a racially mixed borough political correctness reared its ugly head, long before it was even a thing, and the name was changed.

The racial mix of the area was well reflected in the student body, in fact the School assembly was like a session at the United Nations.

There was however one noticeable absentee in our form room that morning, Winifred Bliss, and it was noticeable because she was a foulmouthed gobby cow.

She was West Indian, though I never knew which island, she didn’t really communicate with the white kids other than to tell you to fuck off.

Our form tutor Mrs Holiday told us that Winifred would not be returning to the school, though she wouldn’t elaborate as to why.

Obviously by lunchtime rumours abounded as to her whereabouts, someone suggested she had runaway to join the circus, another that she had eloped to Gretna Green, the most popular theory was that she’d been kidnapped and held for ransom, which nobody would pay.

It wasn’t until we had drama with Mr Dickens after lunch that the truth surfaced when he stood up in front of the class

“There is some very foolish talk around the school regarding Winifred Bliss” he announced

“So, I have decided to tell you the truth”

The class fell silent and waited with bated breath, for what seemed like an eternity.

“Winifred was arrested by the police during the summer holidays” He said

“What for sir?” Mario asked

“For sleeping with boys” he answered

Sleeping with boys, I thought, what’s wrong with that, though I didn’t say it out loud as everyone else in the class was nodding sagely like they understood, but I didn’t, my brother and I often shared a bed with our cousins, and they were girls but they didn’t get arrested.

I never voiced my confusion to anyone about Winifred Bliss or the fact I used to get a stiffy when I shared a bed with my cousins.

A few months later the penny finally dropped regarding the significance of the phrase “Sleeping with boys”.

 

 

 

THE WISDOM OF MY YOUTH # 1

 

When I was a child 

I thought my teacher was alright

Because she cried

When the class sang “Silent Night”

WHEN I WAS AT SCHOOL

 

When I was at school

Our English teacher, Mrs Rowan

Once asked of us as homework,

During the half term holiday

To memorize our favourite poem,

This was met by groans,

By the class, but not me

I chose A.E.Housman’s

“Ode to an athlete dying young”

And it has stayed with me ever since

ARE YOU WEARING A REUNION BADGE?

 

Are you wearing a reunion badge?

No wonder you look depressed

Steer clear of the class reunion

It will just leave you distressed

I know it was a bit of fun looking

At the old school year books

But going will just make you feel

Older than everyone else looks

MEMOIR OF A NORTH LONDON SCHOOL BOY # 2

“That billy goat’s beard looks like Palmer’s fanny” Wendy said out of the blue and giggled

“What?” I said taken by surprise

“Who’s? Rich asked

We were sitting at the back of Mr Cooke’s 4^th year biology class.

It was the first class after lunch, and we were watching a very boring natural history film about mounting goats.

Rich and I had taken second sitting dinners which consisted of liver and bacon whereas Wendy’s lunch was made up largely of cider.

“Claire Palmers fanny looks like that” she said and pointed at a large brown goat on the screen.

“Seriously?” Rich said

“But she’s so small” I said irrelevantly

Claire Palmer was the smallest girl in our year by a distance, small and plain with straight lank hair and a freckled complexion, looking back she always looked like she should have been a year or two behind us, but I guess she stopped growing when her pubic hair started. 

I’d known her since junior school, but she was the quiet shy type, and I don’t think she said more than a few words to me in all that time.

To be truthful she wasn’t really on my radar but at that moment she had become significantly more interesting.

“She’s the hairiest girl in our year” Wendy continued

“What’s yours like?” I asked taking advantage of her alcohol induced indiscretion.

“Ask him” she said nodding in Rich’s direction

“You’ve been in Wendy’s drawers?” I asked shocked and a bit jealous, not because I fancied Wendy, but I hadn’t been in anyone’s pants except my own.

Rich just blushed, so I punched him hard the arm.

I couldn’t believe he’d had his digits among Wendy’s ginger pubes and furthermore that he hadn’t told me all about it.

He was my best mate after all.

But he was such a drip and he’d scored before me.

“Linda McLean’s got a corker though” Wendy said a little too loud as Linda turned around and looked at me.

 

As we were walking to the next lesson Wendy suddenly felt sick and went off to throw up, Rich had French in the annex, and I had German in the main block and it was when I was on my own that I felt a tug on my jacket sleeve.

“What were you lot talking about in Biology?” A girl asked

When I turned around, I saw it was Linda McLean with a frown on her face

I liked Linda even though she was completely flat up top, but I had to admit I liked her even more after finding out she was more substantially equipped down below.

“What?” I said

“What were you saying about me in biology?” she asked forcefully

“We were talking about the flicks” I lied “Rich wanted to see “Rio Lobo”, John Wayne’s latest and Wendy fancied “Love Story”

“I heard my name mentioned” she continued

I shuffled my feet as I struggled to find an answer

“Well, um…. “I mumbled “I said I was going to ask you to the flickers, and Wendy said “Great idea Linda’s a corker”

She didn’t speak for a moment then she said

“Well, are you going to ask me then?”

 

That Saturday night on the back row of the ABC Muswell Hill I confirmed Wendy’s assessment that it was indeed a corker, and I was left to speculate that if little Claire Palmer was considerably more luxuriant down below than Linda then she must have to wear bigger knickers.