The Man With A Long Chin's Diary


Being A Teacher


16 September 1994 - BEING A TEACHER

I'm almost back to normal. The only scars I bear are across my smouldering snap-snap.

I've been promised a job as a substitute teacher in a borstal. I'll be in charge of classes when the regular teacher collapses under the weight of his massive brown stetson.

20 September 1994 - BEING A TEACHER

The class continued its experiment into how cats work yesterday.

We asked three of our cats: "Do you like it here?" and: "Is it warm enough for you?"

To the other cat we said: "What lovely hair you've got" and: "We're scared of your eyes" and: "Retail".

23 September 1994 - BEING A TEACHER

For yesterday's PE class, I forced myself into a locker.

The boys' task was to squirt melted butter through the grille. It made a "pthh" sound as it cascaded into my socks.

I later paraded the socks before the PVR brigade. They're idiots!

24 September 1994 - BEING A TEACHER

The head of drama has been eaten by a pig! I've been asked to play oboe at his funeral - but I don't know how!

One of the boys, JD Harland, suggested I stuff the mouthpiece with seeds, so that when I blow - the seeds will grow!

27 September 1994 - BEING A TEACHER

I took the boys on a school trip to see how chocolate lighthouses are made.

One of the boys, Basil Nadir, fell into a bubbling vat of choc and came out looking like a cougar. The factory manager was so cross he blocked our path with a caramel friend.

28 September 1994 - BEING A TEACHER

It was my last day at the school today, and the boys played a couple of tricks on me.

One of the boys, Avril Turbines, did something to my register. When I opened it, a leaf shot out. Another boy, Johnny BAFTA, put a shaven raven into my open mouth. Another boy fired a gun at me.

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