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Thursday, 31 March 2011

No Flies on Me

Another normal day at Nuova Lazio High. Or so I initially thought.

All morning there just seemed to be something different, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

My year 11s were restless, not their normal hard working (mostly) selves.  Some of the girls were giggling for no apparent reason, and it took a little more than normal efforts to get them to stop.  It even started with some of the boys as well.  Weird.  What was going on?

My senior class, working on the final stages of a major assessment were also acting a bit oddly.  There were some muffled comments and again, a bit of giggling.  What was wrong with these people?  I glanced at the window behind me, and I could see the reflection of my back.  There was nothing stuck on my jacket, so it wasn't me.  (I had gone through an entire afternoon, many years ago, with a sign on my back, put there by a witty student, saying "I SMELL".  Trust me, that counts for wit amongst most of our younger kids.  I had my revenge).  April Fool's Day wasn't until Friday, so it wasn't that.

Hmmm.  April Fool's Day.  I had a plan for an extremely funny practical joke consisting of Ringo, a bucket of slimy custard, 3 bananas, a pineapple, 500 g of Potassium Cyanide and 50,000 volts.  Sometimes I'm so funny it'll be the death of me.  Or someone else.

Even as I walked back to the staffroom for a very well deserved cup of coffee, I was picking up some strange vibrations from the kids.  What on earth was wrong with them today? 
Was there a big fight scheduled down at the park after school?
Was the canteen selling Marijuana cookies?  Again.
Was it something about me?

I went into the gents and examined myself carefully in the big mirrors.

No notices on my back or elsewhere.
No ink or paint on my face or balding skull.
No big bogies hanging from my nose.

I had another class in 4 minutes, so I thought I'd better relieve the bladder pressure before I left.


No.  I hadn't caught parts of me that are almost designed to get caught in my trouser zip.
I hadn't had a heart attack.
I hadn't lost control of any sphincters.


All morning I had been walking around the school and my classes with my trouser fly gaping open.

Not one of my students had thought to mention it.  To me.

Thank goodness I had always followed my Mum's advice and I had clean pants on.  Boxers actually.


Now all the kids knew their teacher went around wearing boxers with pictures of Mickey Mouse on them.

I don't know if I can live with the shame.

Yes of course I can.  And I will have my revenge.  Maybe I should change that idea of mine for April Fool.  100, 000 volts would give a much more satisfying crackle.

Purely as an aside, as I was researching images for this little post, I vowed that I would not have any images of naked ladies, as this would be inappropriate for today's theme.
However, when I did a search for open fly, guess what popped up.
An image designated The Open Fly Fishing Championship.
Now you cannot get much more PC than that.
Can you?

Seriously.  The Open Fly Fishing Champion


  1. Since the real Second Fiddle has cleared off, for a while anyway, and we are left only with an imposter, it's time for me to remind you that I am the Son of God. I will be making more regular efforts to promote Christianity around blogs.
    Do not fear, Angry Jesus is here.

  2. Will your revenge consist of an appropriately placed sausage in an open fly, I wonder?

    Ali x

  3. AJ: No offence CHina, but bugger off. I believe you have as much a chance of existing as does the Easter Bunny.

    Ali X: I am shocked, shocked to hear you suggest such a thing. I can't do that, I'd get grease stains on my trousers.

    *waves finger at naughty Ali X*

    There was one kid in the school a couple of years ago who used to tear a small hole under his fly, and then stick his index finger out the hole and waggle it engagingly at all the female staff.


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