rumncoke wrote:several times baggy-- several times
We had a master who could lift you out of seat by tugging your sideburns. Having been to a boarding school the tales that could be told are many --such as a couple of pupils revenge --placing 2 nails at the front of two tyres and 2 nails at the back of two tyres -- a spare wheel is a useless object in those circumstances. Ruined a golf outing for 4 that did.
I had one of those, an evil little ginger-haired creep by the name of Atcheson, I suspect he was a serial self-abuser who lived a life of heavy frustration, pending his next tug. He sent me outside the class one day & of course, you were supposed to stand there like a spare one until the end of the lesson. As it was a double period and the last of the day, I simply walked out and went for 9 holes of golf on the way home.
Alan Acheson?
Can't recall with certainty, but that sounds right. If your chappie meets the description then almost certainly that's him. I think he had spent time in Australia before coming to dispense education on "stinks". He also had a strange manner of speech, strained and squeaky.
You clearly have come across this specimen, he'd be around 80-90 now, if still possessed of a mortal coil.
NEVER MOVE ON. Years on, I cannot ever watch Ireland with anything but indifference, I continue to wish for the imminent death of Donal Spring, the FIRFUC's executioner of Wee Paddy & Wee Stu, and I hate the FIRFUCs with undiminished passion.
Joe Schmo wrote:Where's V 1.3 or are we just skipping that version as some beardy blokes idea of after dinner humour secured that - surely no one could have been worse last week?
Better late than never, I've been driving for the last whean if days. Committee meeting tomorrow AM with poll to follow.
NEVER MOVE ON. Years on, I cannot ever watch Ireland with anything but indifference, I continue to wish for the imminent death of Donal Spring, the FIRFUC's executioner of Wee Paddy & Wee Stu, and I hate the FIRFUCs with undiminished passion.
Joe Schmo wrote:Where's V 1.3 or are we just skipping that version as some beardy blokes idea of after dinner humour secured that - surely no one could have been worse last week?
Better late than never, I've been driving for the last whean if days. Committee meeting tomorrow AM with poll to follow.
rumncoke wrote:several times baggy-- several times
We had a master who could lift you out of seat by tugging your sideburns. Having been to a boarding school the tales that could be told are many --such as a couple of pupils revenge --placing 2 nails at the front of two tyres and 2 nails at the back of two tyres -- a spare wheel is a useless object in those circumstances. Ruined a golf outing for 4 that did.
I had one of those, an evil little ginger-haired creep by the name of Atcheson, I suspect he was a serial self-abuser who lived a life of heavy frustration, pending his next tug. He sent me outside the class one day & of course, you were supposed to stand there like a spare one until the end of the lesson. As it was a double period and the last of the day, I simply walked out and went for 9 holes of golf on the way home.
Alan Acheson?
Can't recall with certainty, but that sounds right. If your chappie meets the description then almost certainly that's him. I think he had spent time in Australia before coming to dispense education on "stinks". He also had a strange manner of speech, strained and squeaky.
You clearly have come across this specimen, he'd be around 80-90 now, if still possessed of a mortal coil.
sounds like him - turned up as Head of Portora in the late 1970s and left it for Austrailia amid some fairly juicy gossip in the early 80s. Still alive apparently and living in Canada....
rumncoke wrote:several times baggy-- several times
We had a master who could lift you out of seat by tugging your sideburns. Having been to a boarding school the tales that could be told are many --such as a couple of pupils revenge --placing 2 nails at the front of two tyres and 2 nails at the back of two tyres -- a spare wheel is a useless object in those circumstances. Ruined a golf outing for 4 that did.
I had one of those, an evil little ginger-haired creep by the name of Atcheson, I suspect he was a serial self-abuser who lived a life of heavy frustration, pending his next tug. He sent me outside the class one day & of course, you were supposed to stand there like a spare one until the end of the lesson. As it was a double period and the last of the day, I simply walked out and went for 9 holes of golf on the way home.
Alan Acheson?
Can't recall with certainty, but that sounds right. If your chappie meets the description then almost certainly that's him. I think he had spent time in Australia before coming to dispense education on "stinks". He also had a strange manner of speech, strained and squeaky.
You clearly have come across this specimen, he'd be around 80-90 now, if still possessed of a mortal coil.
sounds like him - turned up as Head of Portora in the late 1970s and left it for Austrailia amid some fairly juicy gossip in the early 80s. Still alive apparently and living in Canada....
That looks like him, he was a frailer more gaunt looking zephyr of a man in the early seventies.
NEVER MOVE ON. Years on, I cannot ever watch Ireland with anything but indifference, I continue to wish for the imminent death of Donal Spring, the FIRFUC's executioner of Wee Paddy & Wee Stu, and I hate the FIRFUCs with undiminished passion.