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Remember Birley School?

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It was a rule that pupils (spewdents) were not allowed out at dinner time. My pal of the day and I decided unanimously that this rule was to be broken. At midday we tigered off for our dinner of cheese flan and baked beans that didnt taste like baked beans followed by strawberry shortcake (you had to be in early for that). We then put our plan into action. We climbed over the wall onto the heath and made our way from Stalag 17 to Fox Lane, then to Frechvilles community centre tuck shop for spice and fags. Walking past the pond on the way back to camp we heard a loud whoosh coming from the water, we looked in amazement to see a rather large fish rising like a salmon into the sun kissed air and coming down to a terrific splash. It happened so fast that it was impossible for the naked eye to ascertain whether the fish at the time was one-eyed or two-eyed. We were so startled that we almost dropped our mint cracknells, aztec bars walnut whips (nut inside of whip them days) and 5 Woodbines (plain of course). We waited a few moments for Clarence to re-appear but to no avail. Time was whipping on so we made our way back to our place of learning. We returned the same route with no sentries in sight. Job done. Up yours Commandant Harry Lines!! Please try to read all Zakes posts and threads. Thanks. xx

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I could be a millionaire, if i had the money. Mr Wynslow wass our music teacher for a while and this man was gentle, kind and sincere but wadda screwball!! He had us unmelodious whippersnappers practicing a song for what seemed like months. The song was, O SUZANNA, DONT YOU CRY FOR ME, I COME FROM ALABAMA WITH A BANJO ON MY KNEE. Now the problem was, half the class would be asked to sing the words (lyrics) and my half of the class had to vocalize......PLINK PLUNKA PLINK PLINK, PLINK PLUNKA PLINK PLINK, PLINK PLUNKA PLINK PLINK over and over and over again for the duration of the song which had several verses. The PLINKING and PLUNKING was supposed to be the imitation of the sound of the banjo. Nice bloke, but what a trottle!! Feel free to pike at other Zakes posts. Chow for now.

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Hi Zakes, I've enjoyed reading your thread. I was about 6 or 7 yeas behind your bunch by the sounds of it. It had gone comprehensive by then but many of the staff names, and I dare say the rules were the same. Ha, the escape committee, we joined the chess club so we could get in for early dinners, go to this little room where they played chess off from the library, climb through the window and leg it down to Birley shops for a smoke and a dos-a-round. No dinner bags were around at that time and we got away with it for yonks until the chess club swelled it's membership to about 50 kids in it and some bright spark rumbled us.

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Meanwhile, back at the ranch. During assembly one rainy day i was caught by Mr Shimwell who was a big style trunt in my eyes. He had seen me nipping a girls derriere and noticed i was singing the wrong words to the hymn. This meant an imminent visit to the lair of the headmaster Mr Lines, an appointment with fear. I duly arrived after assembly and knocked and was ordered to enter. Once inside I was given the usual verbals as regard to my deplorable behaviour. I looked at this greasy, lard headed, left handed Rothmans smoking over-trunt with eyes that reminded me of **** holes in the snow from days passed. I amazingly only received 3 strokes that day. Next door through the thin wall was the school secretary's office and she must have been able to hear the thwack of the whack all day everyday which leads to two questions.......1. Did she cringe in sympathy for every stroke a poor victim received? or 2. Flush and fidget excitedly hoping she would be next?......

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Zakes, reading your memories make me smile.

Names of other classmates come to mind, but, i know some of them left in the 4th year ( they must have heard we were going to be a comp lol) there was, Lynne Craig, Julie Hirst, Linda Birch, Margaret Winkley, Pat Otter,Mary Ollerenshaw, Susan Beaumont Margaret Glossop,Sharon Dawrtry,Susan Rowbottham, Katherine Wilkes(did she go to Thornbridge? Christina something ( cant remember her name)Greg Anderson, Andrew Liddell, Ken Newton, Tony Martin,Richard Brown.... I know there are a few more but old age takes it`s toll....

 

Do you remember the art classes on the field all us smokers would have a crafty drag?

What ever happened to the cars that the lads were always tinkering about with at the back of the woodwork room???

 

Were you really so bad that you were the most caned lad in school???

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You can't keep a bad man up. Although i am 2 years younger than Pete Fenwick and Steve Secker i remember them from school. I seem to recall that Pete was a decent footballer and perhaps played left wing and had a strong left foot shot? And that Steve Secker was a decent basketball player ( i think Mr Matthews thought so too). Straining my brain now, i think Fenwick was in Athenians house & Secker a Trojan (like me)??. I reckon i saw them a few times in the Old Harra at the beginning of 70s when i lived at Gleadless Townend and i was suppin underage. Whitbread Tankard? Bah! Try bostic!

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Good evening little school girl. I am not in possession of actual photographs of those halcyon days in the sixties at Birley school Lynnielass, but i have stored images of those days in my vivid imagination. I can say without contradiction that you are looking so, so stunning in your crisp white blouse and daintily pleated grey skirt. Oh wow!!......

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How many pussy cats went to the station? After a mass meeting held in the downstairs lads toilet on a cloudy day, we two (a different mate of the day and me) decided to relieve the air from the tyres of the bike belonging to Mr Phypers. Although this teacher never meant me any harm and he never did me any harm i didnt like it one bit that his bike had 26 inch wheels and that my Pathfinder in the shed at home only had 24 inch ones. The plan was for me to borrow a made in Sheffield penknife from my dads rusty toolbox and for me to slash the front tyre and for my different mate of the day to decimate the rear one. After more discussions i relented and it was decided that the planned act of gross vandalism was to be aborted. It would have been a very unkind act indeed. We just made do by half-inching the saddle using spanners also made in Sheffield!!......Ugh......

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Get plennyer bees wax on it lad! It was a pleasant time at school on thursday afternoons because the girls of our class would be out of the way taking domestic science (learning to be like their mums, cooking and cleaning up after us lazy bleaders) Censor that one matey! We lads wood be taking wouldwork lessons from Mr Dickerson. Now Dicky was my favo(u)rite teacher because he explaned how to use the plain to smoothen would and he showed us how to use the sore whether it be circular, band or tenon. He was a respecter of his pupils, he spoke softly and if you (i) misbehaved he wood chide ever so gently. This lovely man with a voice as soft as silk oversore our work in a very caring way. There was a lad in school called Kevin Stephenson (Davids brother) who was two years senior to us who made his own guitar (plays at cubana bar, trippet lane these days. Good mate of mine). Kevin worked for many months making the guitar and a nice coffee (or tea) table. I was more inventive and created a fruit bowl for mum......Ugh.

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Up a ladder, down a ladder in dictation

how many pussycats went to the station?

Close your eyes and think......

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Ickle ockle chocolate bottle,

Ickle ockle out,

Ickle ockle chocolate bottle

out goes she

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