Raspberry Cordial and the Stupid Pink Stick Men

The opinions and images contained within this Blog do not reflect those of the hosting site and are not based on those of real people or events. Meaning, just because it looks and sounds like you, doesn't mean it IS you. Get over yourself!!! Read my comics and eat saturated fat...

Tuesday, November 14, 2006


Let me tell you a story...

Hopefully that way you will understand why I have posted this mean piccie...

When I was 6, I went to school as most non-bean-eating-left-wing-knit-your-own-museli types do. I was not popular nor clever and did indeed come from a home that had little money and had resorted to dressing me in hand me downs.

So you get the idea, I was not popular nor fashionable nor attractive in any way .

Before you get the tissues for a good old cry, there is a point to all of this...

My school as so many do, had a 'bell' system where at the end of each playtime, we were required to stand still and not move nor breathe too loudly while we waited freezing for our teachers to come out at snail speed from the teacher's smoking room to call out class in individually.

For some reason, my class was always the last one to be called and I of course liked to play near the main doors because even though we weren't allowed in to the school unless we had to go to the loo and even THAT was monitored, when those lucky few that were allowed to defecate during play time left through the door, my face would get temporarily warmed with the warm and playdoh scented breeze of the hallway.

Anyway...

So on this one occasion there was a flock of seagulls in the playground. The girls delighted in throwing bits of grass at them to 'feed' them and the boys took pleasure in stamping after them intent on their first in a long line of animal tortures.

The bell went and I, stood next to the door in my little wooly hat and second hand coat got pooped on!!!

Yes ladies and gentlemen, I had to stand there bolt still while EVERY other class walked past me and laughed at the poo running down my face. I DID NOT DARE MOVE!!! My teacher was a Nazi and frankly, fingers have been lost for less.

THAT was one of the worst days of my schooling and I was known as Poo Face for about 6 months after that- which is pretty traumatic when you are six!!

So I saw this and thought would share it.



Do not laugh at this poor child though, I was scarred enough and in my day they didn;t have the Internet. He's now known as Poo Head in 37 different languages!!