No dark sarcasm in the classroom

There are those that will tell you "school days are the best days of your life". These people, are, in fact, totally and utterly wrong morons.

True, certain persons such as S. Duck have made a bob or too out of tales of skool. This does not change the wrong-diddly-wrongness of the phrase. As any fool kno, the best educational days of your life are university.

Teacher a clueless git? No problem, go to the pub and learn it from a book in the library instead.
Nice day and you don't feel like going in? Pub it is then. Preferably one where you can perve at the nice ladies from textiles.

Er, kind of lost my thread a bit there... for this was supposed to be a rant about the useless fuc teachers that cannot be avoided.

~Insert wobbly lines as we go back in time to junior school~

This is before young C'riz discovered beer, and (more importantly) being workshy. I was, in fact a bit of a swot.

Until I got put in the class with the sour faced old harridan who had the same surname as me apart from one different letter... Something the old bag must have noticed, and decided that I was not to be shown any favouritism because of it. In fact it may be better if I get some anti favouritism, or total and utter hatred. By xmas the uber motivational class star chart has lots of stars stuck on it. Even the future village idiot has stars for not drooling in class. All apart from young C'riz who has a grand total of none. Bugger.

I survived that year, and next time got a nice one. Mrs. Naylor. Who may not have totally shaped my future, but definitely pointed young C'riz in the direction he ended up going in.

C'riz is afflicted with being sinister. A problem not helped by a previous harridan who decided good old fashioned teaching methods are best, namely administering violence should any hand other than the right be used. Consequently handwriting has never been a strong point.

Mrs. Naylor worked with young C'riz, and I improved. I even got a shiny prize that year for "most improved". But while the other kids got to choose what their book token went on, Mrs. Naylor made a choice for me. I received "how things work", a book all about mechanics and well, how things work. Thus it is prolly her fault that I went on to become an engineer, a thing I thank her for.

So now new improved C'riz moved up a year... to Rike Meid's class (think grittish bass, as I don't think he will be dead yet). I believe the man came from Stoke, which of course means he was, and prolly still is, a complete and utter f*cktard.

Young C'riz's writing is awful. So the obvious solution is make him re-write everything out again every bloody day while everyone else is out playing in the sun. Yes, that'll motivate him. For some strange reason the actual result was a reduction in work produced... nothing to do with the fact that if you know you're going to have to copy it out again, writing less in the first place is a smart move. Oh no.. can't be.

For unknown reasons, biros where also banned at skool. You shall use a fountain pen, these frenchie things will never catch on. Why are you writing so slowly boy? Er, liquid ink, writing goes left to right.. spotted the problem yet quark brain?

Er, rather a distinct lack of funny here.. but was therapeutic for me... Normal service will be resumed shortly..