Funny/Weird/Shocking/Awesome School Stories

Ah, I remembered a couple of things.

-I had a grudge on this one kid in 3rd grade, and this girl and I fantasized about marrying each other and spending our life making movies insulting said kid.

-Crazy guy in 10th grade would often hug the math teacher and talk about "gay-marrying" him. The math teacher never changed his expression or raised his voice. Then again he hardly ever does so.

-My 6th grade computer teacher was an old, fat, Australian gun nut. He was quite strange, but never malicious and we all loved him. Shame he left after 2 years.

-I told a student teacher to go fuck herself in 8th grade.

-New guy got hit by a car a week after coming to school. Even after that he had a penchant for getting injured. Last summer he got bleach in his eye. He never clarified how it happened.

Edit: The computer teacher used to be a katana and firearms coach.

In my third year school had these low bushes just outside the glass doors. Probably so that kids running out would slow down. I was walking home when my foot started to itch and I bent down to scratch, ass in the weather. When I turned around a cleaning lady and some other hag were staring at me. I had accidentally mooned them before mooning was invented. I too was surprised and just walk on. This was in like 1999 or something.

I got pantsed in the gym once in high school. Still gives me PTSD standing in lines.

11 hours ago, Memfis said:

Stole some girl's shoe, fapped to it, then sneakily put it back. I was like 10 years old but still, WTF.

Thanks, you gave me 15 minutes of consistent laughter. 

...

Funny story: in primary school we had this lovely principal whose voice was, hilariously disturbing. There was a school event where my classmates and I had to sing in a chorus, along some teachers. The principal and the deputy headmistress (thanks WordReference) had to sing the last verse of the song. When we rehearsed the song for the first time, some of us were trying to imagine how the principal would sound... so we were singing, then the last verse came, and omg... I think even the cleaning lady couldn't resist rofl-ing, quietly of course. She sounded like a cicada. Coming from a person with a microphone was ear-raping, but so funny, my teachers were crying. Of course it's not funny to read the story, I couldn't think of anything else...

Another funny story was when I farted so loud in the middle of a class and nobody noticed, but I did noticed, specially how it hurt. 

Weird story: umm... in third, or fourth grade, or was it fifth?... anyway, my friends, male friends started a game about, kissing each other, how many kisses can one steal from the other. Of course, kisses on the cheeks, but still, they were so into the game that always took advantage of every opportunity to, mwah. Then I joined the game. All I will say is, none of us thought about that like something sexual or gay, we were just playing innocently, or at least I was. Heh, it's really weird to remember those moments.

Shocking story: don't think of this as shocking to anyone else, but... there was one time we were on the break, hanging out in the indoors playground, then suddenly I saw a kid with a huge hole in the forehead spitting blood, apparently he brutally fell on the floor, it was really shocking to watch. 

Another one is from last year, I was in an english class talking with a classmate, she went to the same school I did but different years. We talked about our classmates from school, everything ok, she talked about this boy whose sister died in an accident (iirc), sad story. Next week, in the class, she tells me she found out this ex-classmate died in a motorcycle accident a few days ago. I became silent, it really shocked me, I knew the guy and he was a cool kid back then. Things that happen...

Awesome story: Nope, I can't think of anything, maybe next time.    

13 hours ago, Nevander said:

I got pantsed in the gym once in high school. Still gives me PTSD standing in lines.

Same. I've been pickpocketed a couple of times too so whenever someone gets close to me in lines or something, I get super uncomfortable.

Funny story: In Kindergarten I cut my lip in the dumbest way imaginable... I was pretending to talk to a pair of scissors that I was holding and as the conversation continued the 'lip synced' scissors got closer and closer to my face until they slit through my upper lip... I somehow didn't need stitches in spite of remembering being able to move each 'half' of my lip independently with my hands. I don't remember it being a big deal for some reason, there is no scar as far as I can tell either.

Dumb story: In Grade 9 math we had a pretty terrible teacher. For the entire first semester she let the class convince her to let them play crib every single day. Because of this we never did any math for the entire first half of Grade 9. I knew that we needed to do all the work eventually but she wouldn't assign anything because she was too busy playing crib! It wasn't until half way through the second semester that she realized "Oh shit! We haven't done anything!" and we had to rush through the entire Grade 9 curriculum in less than two months. To this day I still absolutely hate crib. This teacher wasn't very smart or really... you know... great with teenagers, she also wasn't very smart. She had no idea how to treat us at that age and also wasn't a very good person either. I was glad when she left but felt sorry for the school she went to. Did I mention she wasn't very smart?

Not sure how to class this story: At one point while in middle school my older brother was in the computer lab with his class for a project. All the computers were in use, so the teacher let my brother borrow his laptop. As my brother took the laptop from the teacher's bag a disk fell out... He picked it up and found that it had a nude woman printed on it. He immediately put it back in the bag but not before one of his classmates had seen it. Needless to say, the teacher had recently taken some 'entertainment' to a volleyball tournament and forgot to take it out of his bag when he got home. My brother didn't tell anyone but the classmate did. That teacher was fired within a week. All the other teachers and the students already hated this guy anyway so it was no big loss. From what I heard he was somehow able to get a teaching job somewhere else.

I have more stories. The school I went to started out pretty good and got progressively worse overtime. I have found it to be an indisputable fact that one terrible person in the staff is more than capable of counteracting all the good brought about by a rather large collection of amazing teachers, and somehow it was always my class that had to deal with the bad teachers for the brief time each of them were there. I haven't even scratched the surface of the stupid things that happened to my class.

I have posted this before in another thread, but here goes...

One time in 5th grade, a good friend of mine, who we will call Stan, had come onto the bus looking particularly upset. I had asked him what was wrong, only for him to show me a sickening scar that legitimately looked like somebody had carved a candy cane into his leg, stating his father had abused him for not bringing his homework home. I had no clue what to say, and tried to help him feel better by getting his mind off it. Later that day, in what I believed to be Language Arts class, the teacher had pulled me aside, asking if Stan had told me anything crazy sounding, and I had told her what I had heard that morning. After that, everything started happening at lunch, the people in the office calling the police, there were police cars and ambulances outside the school, and everyone was in something of a panic. That afternoon, on the bus ride home, we saw police cars and FBI vans parked outside of Stan's house. Turns out his stepfather had been whipping him with some form of metal wiring, and was already in some hot water for drug trafficking.

2 hours ago, VirtualOwl13 said:

I have posted this before in another thread, but here goes...

One time in 5th grade, a good friend of mine, who we will call Stan, had come onto the bus looking particularly upset. I had asked him what was wrong, only for him to show me a sickening scar that legitimately looked like somebody had carved a candy cane into his leg, stating his father had abused him for not bringing his homework home. I had no clue what to say, and tried to help him feel better by getting his mind off it. Later that day, in what I believed to be Language Arts class, the teacher had pulled me aside, asking if Stan had told me anything crazy sounding, and I had told her what I had heard that morning. After that, everything started happening at lunch, the people in the office calling the police, there were police cars and ambulances outside the school, and everyone was in something of a panic. That afternoon, on the bus ride home, we saw police cars and FBI vans parked outside of Stan's house. Turns out his stepfather had been whipping him with some form of metal wiring, and was already in some hot water for drug trafficking.

What happened to Stan after that?

Uh oh..

I have shared so many school stories here on Doomworld over the years. I need to compile them in a horrifying book. I would have made a book of my blogs on MySpace, but for some reason they decided to wipe their blogs at some point during the "Facebook has taken everyone and no one cares." Mine included.

9 hours ago, TootsyBowl said:

What happened to Stan after that?

He had moved to live with hopefully more caring people. His step father is serving what I believe to be a ten year jail sentence, IIRC.
 

8 hours ago, CARRiON said:

Uh oh..

 

God damn it.

On one IT lesson I convienced a guy to visit the gloryholefoundation, he was hesitating a lot so I had to bullshit everything through. he clicked the link and in order he turned off the volume, the monitor and his pc while everyone was staring. lulz ensued, almost got shit for it from the teachers.

There are a few. A good number of them involve the men's room.

One time in 10th grade, a kid was fooling around in the bathroom. He had one of those yeti cups full of ice water. He got up on a toilet and guess what. Down went the ice water onto  another kid trying to do his business in the other stall. He ran away after that, then the other kid came out pretty damn mad. He just walked out, too, though.

Another time in the bathroom (11th grade), I walked in to hear someone trying to be funny by making fart noises with his hands while sitting on a shitter. Meanwhile, two stalls over, a guy walks out with anger visible on his face, and a bunch of toilet paper in hand. After a quick run under the sink, he spotted the hand farting kid and chucked a congealed, disgusting mass of wet toilet paper right at his feet. And with a nonchalant "bitch", he was gone. The kid had stopped, but that's all I could tell. He sat in there until after I left, I assume.

One more. At some point in time, a stall (All three of these stories occur in the same bathroom, mind you) was out of order, and the door had been duck taped shut and a sign had been posted. This simply wasn't enough, as some kid decided to tear it right open again and take a mountain of a dump, right in the bowl. The toilet couldn't flush, of course, and the bathroom was left smelling like shit the rest of the day, unfortunately.

In my school, one of the teachers got suspended for sexually harrassing a girl (I think he just gave her like a 'slap on her bum' or something, thats what I heard anyway). Also, a girl who would constantly get bullied because she was like the 'goth girl' tried to kill herself by jumping off the cliff by the school (or what I call the 'hilariously small hill'). She got too scared to do it though and came down crying with one of the guidance teachers. I felt really bad for her, so now I am literally the only person who will say hello to her in the corridors, I really only do it so she won't try to kill herself anymore.

...also, because everyone has a smartphone and snapchat and all that crap, everyone is always sending nudes of themselves to their gf's and bf's. I think I've seen like 3 of my friends genitals in 'some form or another' so far.

What a time to be alive ._.

Back in the high school days, I once saw shit in the public showers of the changing room. I laughed my ass off pretty much.

There was that time I met a one-time neighbour (very) cute girl in the hallways, that I hadn't seen since I was 11 (I had lived out of town for a while and she'd changed schools by the time I'd gotten back). She promptly dragged me into an empty classroom to show me she had since gotten pubes. We were 17 at the time.

In grade 7 (spring 2007) I once had a pop quiz in History class which I absolutely hadn't have prepared for, so obviously I ended up receiving a mark '1' (the Hungarian equivalent of 'F') for that one. Being particularly upset over how I wasn't required to write about that one topic I actually knew stuff about and interrogated from just the other, I swore up to serve justice... by crinkling up the piece of paper into a ball and gobbling it down taking advantage of my moderately advanced condition of pica.

This is where the cringy part essentially started, given I absolutely forgot that the teacher was gonna re-collect all the tests after letting us see them. I initially tried to weasel out by stating I've lost it, but she was just insisting so hard on it being retrieved that I had no other choice but to come clean about the whereabouts. So yeah, this is where I was taken to the headmistress who flat-out threatened to have me go through a gastric lavage should this happen again. Her exact words echo in my head till this day: "As long as you're a student at this school, you don't annihilate anything that is a document, unless you want to be in for severe penalties!" -, but as for that time, I 'got away' with simply a warning.

There was a kid I knew from Boy Scouts named Brian. A few years younger than me, I didn't have much of an opinion of him, just another kid with a chip on his shoulder from a dysfunctional family like so many of us. I know we spent most weekends together, camping, hiking, fishing, rafting, basket weaving - but I really didn't get to know him as a person. In junior year of high school I was surprised to learn that my best friend Dave had a few classes with him, a freshman. I suppose they also ran in some of the same circles, or at any rate knew the same pot dealers. I ran into Brian plenty at school, like I did a few other Scouts, but those worlds just didn't intersect.

Dave was friends with all the black kids in school and was known all over the county. He had an impressive recording setup he'd paid for with his trust fund; the black kids would come over, get high, drunk, and record their demo tapes. I was usually there, composing beats and mixing them live. Brian, however, fell in with the white nationalists. There was a gang, the Brotherhood, real original. Kids who dyed their hair blonde, tried to grow beards, bought Confederate flag shirts, wore denim jackets with their shitty emblems on, and rode bitch in Rustangs with the "grownup" Brothers who dealt meth and hung out in abandoned factories or roofied girls or whatever it is that Nazis do for fun. During school, though, Brian and Dave would sit next to each other in Study Hall or wherever and be unproductive.

During one such period, Dave called Brian a slacker. They talked shit for fun all the time but I guess this one word stuck in Brian's craw. Brian stewed in it for a while and snitched to the head Nazi in the school: Luke, a kid out of a gritty reboot of West Side Story. Today Luke is a bail bondsman, which is irrelevant to this story, but I like to think he took the job so he could help his friends and family. There's a section of hallway near the auditorium we would hang out at before class started. The band geeks, drama nerds, and other misfits crowded there. One morning I watch as Luke goose-steps in, leading what must have been most of his crew, more than a dozen denim-wearing wastoids. Brian isn't there. Luke hems Dave up against the wall and the whole crew surrounds him before I can do anything. Luke says that for his transgression, Dave has to pay him 20 dollars a week or he'll get the shit kicked out of him.

All the following month, the Brotherhood learns that white does not make right. Dave tells his friend, Pat. Pat tells every black kid in the school. Every black kid in the school declares open season on denim jackets. In one such incident the star running back for the school football team takes on three Brothers at once. He picks one up and turns him sideways like an empty garbage can, and throws him into a wall. He must have knocked the white power out of that kid, because years later he turns into a dreadlocked hippie and thumbs his way across the country. The Brotherhood was dismantled and we hear that the fight extended way beyond the school grounds. The tri-county area is Nazi-free for years to come. Today they still don't dare wander outside Marcus Hook for too long.

Most of those misguided punks clean up their act after high school. Not Brian. I assume he graduates by the skin of his teeth. I'm sure his Scout career was less successful. His mom kicks him out for whatever reason. He becomes one of those losers who surfs from one friend's couch to the next, tries to deal on the side but smokes more than he sells. Dave was right about him. This goes on for a few years.

One autumn, Brian is living with two friends and their mom. I was surprised to learn, again, that I knew those two kids, being well-acquainted with their older sister and having taken their cousin to prom. I think one's name was Matt, maybe. Brian was shacked up in the basement with a futon and all his worldly possessions in a duffel bag. They run with a little crowd of petty criminals, for whom it hasn't sunk in yet that they are now adults and accountable for their actions. One such thug, Joe, has stolen some kid's dirt bike and needs to stash it somewhere. Brian, being the helpful friend that he is, suggests to keep it in a shed in Matt's back yard. Joe loves the idea. Brian is a covetous little prick, and always broke from smoking his own supply, so he moves the bike to some other undisclosed place. Joe lives in Jersey, and waits for the heat to die down, so he doesn't find out until later that "his" bike is gone. Several angry calls later, Brian finally decides to reach out to Joe. He makes up some story about having to move the bike to secure it, telling him to come get it. Joe shows up at Matt's (mom's) apartment one evening and is impatient to get what's his. Bordering one side of the apartment complex is a set of train tracks. Brian leads Joe out to the tracks and tells him his bike is down by the overpass. At some point during this walk along the tracks, Brian pulls out a semi-automatic pistol and blows Joe's fucking brains out.

According to the police report, Brian is visibly shaken when he returns to the apartment. He confesses to Matt and his brother, who share his panic. Early the next morning a jogger discovers Joe's corpse by the tracks. The police are called and they ID him. There are defensive wounds on his hands. Officers learn that Joe was a suspect in a bike theft, having read statements and talked to the original owner. They comb Joe's whereabouts and contacts and of course discover quite a few phone calls to and from Matt's house right before his death. When they arrive at Matt's, he and his brother sing like canaries. The cops know everything. Brian is the murderer. Brian has a gun. Brian is in the basement. The cops visit Brian downstairs and wake him up. When Brian realizes what's happening he jumps up and reaches for his waistband. Two officers struggle with him for several minutes and take his gun off of him.

Brian is serving a life sentence for murder, assaulting a police officer, theft, and probably possession with intent to distribute. I forget the whole list. He has several failed appeals under his belt. I believe one had him claiming that the prosecution tried to portray him falsely as a hardened criminal and big-time drug dealer, which may have affected his sentencing. I guess it didn't occur to him that slackers who can't even make money selling pot can be heartless killers too. Despite this horror story, it somewhat surprises me that there aren't more people from my school days doing hard time.

tl;dr version: fuck you read the whole thing

@Bucket

I did read it and it's sad. I was expecting a bad turn of events but not to that level. Did you know all these details just out of friends of friends?

Started with rumors and hearsay, confirmed with publicly available depositions.

Did anything interesting happen to me? No.

School was s*ck for me. After a time I didn't even care what was going on with others

I just wanted to get out of there...

The one thing that stands out at the moment was the fights between this kid named Prince and myself in elementary school. We did not like one another one bit. My first out of school suspension was after him and I started fighting in the middle of the class. Things got so heated between us I thew a chair at him and he ended up stealing my coat. It turned out he came from a really screwed up family and had a crazy drug addict mother. He stole my coat because it was my coat and because his mother refused to buy him one. Sometimes I wonder if that kid made it. Because he really had the odd stacked against him.