To allow the liquid from a can or bottle to re-enter the vessel, complete with some of your own saliva. The soft drink equivalent of bumkissing a spliff. Backwashing led to the often repeated statistic that the last 10% of any can of coke is 50% saliva. Plainly bollocks, as not everyone is a scabby backwashing bronno.

Baron was a brand of unutterably unfashionable shoes. The stitching on the top formed a kind of lip, which would hold water in the rain. Thus, Baron Fishponds, a local aristocrat, was born. If Log hadn't been such a solidly established nickname by the time I was twelve, I may well have been called Baron Fishponds now.

Butterfly garden? Hunh?

According to the margin notes in my 3rd year English book, big brown brothels only cost 27p.

Once you have someone in a bin, they're fairly helpless, so you can stage scenes around them.

JACQUELINE'S TRYST
1. INT. DAY. CLASSROOM.

Thomas : Good afternoon, Jacqueline. I trust no-one knows you came.
Jacqueline : Of course not. I value my position within the household, such as it is.
Thomas : You should know better than to... oh, is that the new flavour Monster Munch?
Jacqueline : You noticed. To be honest I am a little let down; I fear the flavour has gathered at the bottom of the bag, leaving the crisps themselves flavourless and cloying.
Thomas : Then there is only one thing for it!
Jacqueline : Whatever do you mean?
Thomas : You must spit a mouthful of the offending crisps into this bin!
Jacqueline : But Thomas!
Thomas : But nothing! Spit the crisps into the bin!
Jacqueline : But there is a boy in the bin, Thomas.
Thomas : Yes, that's Steve. We binned him.
[Jacqueline gobs her crisps onto Steve. Thomas takes a handful and does the same]
Both : A hahahahah!

A faintly fruity french teacher should constantly be likened to a bitch on heat. The image of your teacher dragging her arse around on the floor, pulling herself along by the front paws should reduce class sympathy and break the spell of her fruitiness. This will make disobedience and cruelty easier. In the same way that Nazis introduced seperate text books for the biology of jews; it's a tried and tested technique.

There's a time and a place, Graeme. And this was both.

For the revolving whiteboard scenario, where the boards are lifted and lowered to reveal fresh panels, the class can prepare for the teacher by concealing a massive, gushing, member on the rear board. Half-way through the lesson, when the teacher needs mo' whiteboard, bingo! Guage the teacher's reaction; did they go red, and not know what to do? If so, congratulations.

A pair of breasts so outstanding that you feel compelled to say "blimey".

The reliance by some teachers on the Monty Python Déja Vu sketch theory that repetition of something that isn't funny (especially nicknames for students) follows a sort of sine wave of funniness. The 3rd, 7th, and 11th time you say something will be funny, albeit in an exasperating kind of way, no matter what. This does NOT work. However, the repetition of something that irritates a teacher will get steadily funnier with each repetition. This isn't fair, but really, teachers shouldn't even try.

Printers of school books. Possibly also a medical complaint, where your head turns into a body. Aged 11, I wrote my first swear word duet, and this is it.

Log : Fuck a shit head.

Paul : Who?

Log : Bodley Head!

Ask this question; "Do you look at the bog roll after you've had a dump?" Yes, the quizzee is a "scummy dinnerstabber" or a "dirty gaylord" or even worse, a "knobjocky", who enjoyed nothing more than looking at shit. No, then how the hell do they know their arse is clean, the filthy fucker? Escape through excess "yes, and I lick it off for supper" (not to be tried if you aren't all that popular), or by lying "no, we're so rich that we get butlers to come and look at our toilet roll for us". Or, by simply avoiding the question altogether, and running away.

Wholly innocent fun. No one gets hurt. One friend lies on his back, legs hunched up. Another friend sits on his feet, one buttock per foot. Friend catapults sitting friend to the best of his ability, saying "boost". Flying friend replies "morale!" upon landing. This isn't funny at all, is it? But it makes me smile so, Mr Sir!

You're boss! That means I think you're great. So we would snap our fingers to Aztec Camera's Somewhere in my Heart on the radio, and agree that 'that song was boss', too. And Bruce Springsteen - how boss was the Boss?

Let me stop you there. Recent surveys have shown that Bruce Springsteen was, in fact, a Bent Over Sheep Shagger. Moreover, he's the bent-over sheep shagger, having pipped everyone else to the number one spot in a gruelling week-long animal shagathon.

He prefers the bent-over position, because he likes to feel the freshly shorn wool against his tummy, and this also allows another sheep to mount him, as he plays lucky Pierre in a raunchy ovine three-way.

Be careful when accepting this compliment, especially when it's preceded by "a", "the", or "my".

After a P.E. teacher mispronounced Boucher (Bow-chuh) in a poncesome French Bou-Shay stylee, poor Boucher received constant stick for his vicarious pretention. He even corrected the teacher; that didn't stop up us putting our fingers to our noses and saying "My name's Bou-Shay, I am the Prince of Wales."

The only thing you can convincingly change the letters of Huxley to, should you know a boy called Huxley who compulsively writes his own name on everything. You can then insist on calling him Boxlex for the remainder of his life. Alternatively, steal the pencils, change the names, and then say "these aren't your pencils, they appear to belong to a boy called Boxlex. Since there are no Boxlex's here, I think I shall use them." Then, you can chew them for half an hour and give them back. I didn't actually do this, but I wish I had.

Opposite of "make friends". A remarkably civil ceremony that all friendly interaction shall cease, performed with a sharp, single, handshake. You may, at any time, "make friends" again, for instance, if you want to borrow a rubber, with this rhyme; "Make friends, make friends, never never break friends. If you do, you'll catch the 'flu, and that will be the end of you." Warning; this is childish.

Pointless re-extension of "brill" to make it just as long as the originally abbreviated word, "brilliant". To say that your new Big Trak is "Brillo Pads" reeks of privilege - you're asking for it, mister.

A female poor person who lives in a caravan and wears the same clothes every day. Possibly derived from Neighbour's Bronwyn, who was actually very nice looking.

This, in later life, can be used to return a pint of beer you don't want. Simply put your finger up your arse, hold the beer up to the barman's nose, being sure to keep your finger on his side of the pint glass. Even if you don't get a free pint, you can say "you just smelled my poo" to the barman. Also known as brown hitler, or shit lip