Modern education

[mention]Six30[/mention] Do you wash your own socks

Six getting down to business with a picture of Eartha Quake...

I've run out of words.

I now get why your ex fancies your wife.

.....can you see what sort of biscuits are involved?

I now get why your ex fancies your wife.

 

.....can you see what sort of biscuits are involved?

Not sure, what came after Disco biscuits?

I now get why your ex fancies your wife.

My ex is actually one of about three straight women to have told me that if she was gay she'd happily get it on with my wife! She's not keen though

One of these is my wife. No clues...

Are you a Jimmy Saville or is it the one who still has a pulse?

Sounds far more like you have a low tolerance for the dull/stupid/self absorbed and your wife is a tolerant maybe empathic soul. Lucky you.

Someone very dear to me is exactly the same and people who like to mix it up a bit are always infinitely more entertaining.

A quick slice through the attempt to draw you into the “poor me” routine was probably the easiest way to get some entertainment and say “go away” otherwise you would use the same line everyone else uses “excuse me a moment” and never go back!

I reckon you have the same non-conformist approach for swiftly separating the wheat from the chaff leaving only the people you might be bothered with standing.

The bit I don’t get is that you must like to socialise cos he (the someone dear to me) won’t agree to go to these doos in the first place.

I now get why your ex fancies your wife.

I have a friend who likes to think of herself as a bit of an amateur psychologist, and she is convinced that there is some deep underlying reason for my total disinterest in making any meaningful friendships (outside of the one I have with my wife, of course). She has expressed the view that because my old man had planned to take me with him when he offed himself all those years ago, I may have unresolved 'attachment issues'.

The great thing about psychology, as opposed to proper science, is that you can interpret almost anything you see in front of you as evidence to support whatever crackpot notion you have formulated. So when I tell her that my disinterest in other people is really down to laziness and not to any painful childhood experience, she interprets that as 'repression of traumatic memories'. When I tell her that I don't hate other people, it's just that I'm usually happier when they're not around, she sees this as 'heeling with humour'. You can't win, so now I don't bother with her much either.

Sounds far more like you have a low tolerance for the dull/stupid/self absorbed and your wife is a tolerant maybe empathic soul. Lucky you.

Someone very dear to me is exactly the same and people who like to mix it up a bit are always infinitely more entertaining.

A quick slice through the attempt to draw you into the “poor me” routine was probably the easiest way to get some entertainment and say “go away” otherwise you would use the same line everyone else uses “excuse me a moment” and never go back!

I reckon you have the same non-conformist approach for swiftly separating the wheat from the chaff leaving only the people you might be bothered with standing.

The bit I don’t get is that you must like to socialise cos he (the someone dear to me) won’t agree to go to these doos in the first place.

I now get why your ex fancies your wife.

 

I have a friend who likes to think of herself as a bit of an amateur psychologist, and she is convinced that there is some deep underlying reason for my total disinterest in making any meaningful friendships (outside of the one I have with my wife, of course). She has expressed the view that because my old man had planned to take me with him when he offed himself all those years ago, I may have unresolved 'attachment issues'.

The great thing about psychology, as opposed to proper science, is that you can interpret almost anything you see in front of you as evidence to support whatever crackpot notion you have formulated. So when I tell her that my disinterest in other people is really down to laziness and not to any painful childhood experience, she interprets that as 'repression of traumatic memories'. When I tell her that I don't hate other people, it's just that I'm usually happier when they're not around, she sees this as 'heeling with humour'. You can't win, so now I don't bother with her much either.

My apologies. It wasn’t intended to come across that way but now I read it back it does. Was more of an admiration of the approach, you can tell your therapist that next week.

My apologies. It wasn’t intended to come across that way but now I read it back it does. Was more of an admiration of the approach, you can tell your therapist that next week.

Ha ha! Absolutely no apology necessary - I hadn't taken your post that way at all!

I was such an innocent looking boy at school

In the science class I used sit quite near the front (as sweet boys do) my farts were always rancid for some reason and the teacher always sent Parsons out of the classroom when he smelled them

"Parsons! Is that you again making toilet smells?! Get out and do 2 laps round the playing field!"

Trying to protest his innocence he would walk out.

Of course I couldn't release any more smells until he was back

I now get why your ex fancies your wife.

 

My ex is actually one of about three straight women to have told me that if she was gay she'd happily get it on with my wife! She's not keen though

One of these is my wife. No clues...

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Aha - it's the bottom one, isn't it.......I recognise her from this year's rally at the Halfway House........

You lucky, lucky bloke......

Aha - it's the bottom one, isn't it.......I recognise her from this year's rally at the Halfway House........

You lucky, lucky bloke......

Well quite!

When I was younger I could never understand what people found funny about Les Dawson and Roy Barraclough's Cissy and Ada sketches, because that's what my mother's side of the family were like! We'd go up to Manchester every Saturday to see my nan, and she'd be leaning on the low privet hedge in the front garden, headscarf and house-coat on, gossiping with her neighbour about the latest scandal in the close. Whenever there was anything they didn't think a young boy should hear they'd mouth it at each other rather than say it out loud: "How's your Sid getting on with his haemorrhoids, Phyllis?"

It wasn't until years later that I fully appreciated his genius!

Last night after proceeding past the half a bottle of cider I decided to share some of these with my husband and sons, this caused enormous merriment. They were punctuated with their own misdemeanours which turned into a bit of a confessional for my sons, well worth the share. It would make a great comedy prog recreating the nuts stuff people actually did at school.

Tears of laughter were rolling at

RE, perhaps your mentally ill miss

The can of coke in the bin

The hacksaw on the bike (although that was mixed with groans)

The dementia teacher

Electrocuting the deputy head

The 25ft acid sketch of cock n balls

The teachers car going up in flames

Flying out of the window of the school bus

Good stuff, now I just have do deal with my not so angelic sons

You've just armed them with knowledge and if they have a sense that records are meant to be broken then you're in trouble

Did anyone ever get kids they didn't like in trouble with the teachers?

One lad less than affectionately nicknamed "smack head" because his eyes bulged out of his head was always hassling me. I took issue with it as I didn't join in with the piss taking against him

One day he called me something, and one of his mates said "You know it's bad when even smack head can get shots off on you". So in our English class I had a bag of skittles in my pocket. I told my mate next to me what I was going to do and I threw one at the white board while the teacher was writing on it. She spun around and demanded to know who threw it and I immediately went "IT WAS BOBBY!" and my mate next to me went "Yeah smack head, wind it in".

He erupted into "IT WAS HIM MISS" but she didn't have any of it and told him to pack it in.

As she turned around I took another skittle out of my pocket and I then clocked one of the other kids looking at me. He was one of the cool kids as well, so I took a chance and figured he wouldn't grass on me. I threw the skittle and with nothing other than that glance, this kid went "Bobby, what the f**k are you doing!?" as the skittle hit the board and the teacher went mad again and put him on his last chance. Bobby was going crazy, he said to search me so I stood up and turned out my pockets (id slipped the packet to my friend next to me).

At this stage I was done, but Bobby was now making gestures at me and wouldn't stop. I knew he'd dedicate the rest of the hour to it so I took the bag of skittles back, poured half of them into my hand under the table. And as the teacher turned around I threw the bag of remaining skittles at him while launching a good 10 of them at the board.

They hit the teacher, the board, the noise was fantastic, and she turned around and saw Bobby frantically trying to throw the bag of skittles back at me. And this time, over half the class was like "BOBBY!!?".

He was sent out of the class and he didn't try much with me after that

They already have multiple stories from their father that would make the above stories look tame. Anyway sometimes i worry theyre too good. Yep always something to worry about with kids

Youre not the only lover of skittles....

https://www.google.co.uk/amp/s/relay.nationalgeographic.com/proxy/distribution/public/amp/2017/01/red-skittles-cattle-feed-agriculture-environment-wisconsin

Cola Trillions were the confection of choice for the yobbos when I was at school - essentially cola-flavoured buckshot, a big bag of which could be had for mere pennies. A handful of it lobbed out of the bus window as it sped past pedestrians must have been pretty much like being shot in the face too.

Cola Trillions were the confection of choice for the yobbos when I was at school - essentially cola-flavoured buckshot, a big bag of which could be had for mere pennies. A handful of it lobbed out of the bus window as it sped past pedestrians must have been pretty much like being shot in the face too.

Are they like sherbert pips? Lethal little pellets that could be blown through rolled up paper but with enough stick you couldn’t easily get them out of fabric or hair!

Another bus-related favourite of the yobbos I went to school with came back to me earlier:

Double-decker busses had a periscope contraption at the front so the driver could see what was going on upstairs. Every so often we'd get a bus where the inner glass and mirrors for this had been removed, essentially making it a tube down which you could drop stuff into the drivers lap. The entire journey would be spent throwing sweets and other stuff like apples and oranges at it from the back of the top deck to see who could get the driver. When that got boring they'd drop lit matches down it.

Looking back, it's no wonder Grange Hill had no appeal for us - it was like a load of posh kids poncing about in comparison!

My school is starting to sound more than a little lame. I don’t think the boy standing at the school bus pick up point with one strap of his bag flapping about getting caught in the coach wheel counts......... fill in the rest yourselves cos we were accidentally monumentally stupid not deliberately

 

2. Petrified of getting things wrong or failure
   
4. Lack all manner of confidence in anything that requires analytical thinking

 

All because they were made to feel that way at school.

Before you go down the road of "well I was alright with it" make sure you take in the experiences of many others and also see out the research evidence that goes into the benefit into each approach (disclaimer, I'm not an expert but I know a few people who have worked in this field and had a few conversations with them)

Sorry, I only read the first page of this topic but I read this and these bits here are exactly what I think.

For my experience, I was taught with red pens and Xs, circles, notes and question marks... or the dreaded 'see me' especially in Maths.

Im not bad at maths, but I was very unwell in my first school so missed a lot of the basics, so I had to cobble together a lot of the patterns to make the more advanced stuff make sense. Sometimes this went horribly wrong and I hated feeling like Id let people down or failure in a lesson was the worst thing that could happen (this was through my parents rather than the school, my dad was an ex-headteacher and I was petrified of him until I was about 14, and my mum never questioned him) so my books were usually stained with tears as well as red pen. It wasnt until secondary school I got a teacher that understood why I was they way I was and built my confidence around maths, and I was soon jumping up ability classes into the one just below top.

I dont think the colour of pen or using an X makes much difference, it's how you are taught and how you are brought up.