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acannon
15 years ago
OMG did you really go to Yarralumla Primary?? I went to Yarralumla Primary!! I was made to feel ashamed in Year 6 because I didn’t know about fractions (my family had gone overseas for a year and they weren’t up to fractions yet there and so I missed fractions and I’m still very sensitive about them). And then as an adult I discovered our school anthem was actually “Mr Tambourine Man” with different words! (“O Yarralumla my school sheltered ‘neath the trees…” &c). Totally freaked me out, man…
Buzz
15 years ago
At my ‘prestigious’ christian ladies’ college we were subjected to unannounced spot-checking of our undies by Matron to ensure that the colour of our Bond’s Cottontails matched that day’s uniform. The same matron who was VERY friendly with the spinster Home Ec teacher, kept her cask of Coolabah in the Home Ec fridge and wondered why us ‘young ladies’ had to keep checking our chilling Jelly Slices. Strangely, the levels of the communion wine in the unlocked chapel cupboard were dropping unusually quickly too. Years 11 and 12 > ‘hic’
Keith is not my real name
15 years ago
Fractions BOO!
Jenny
15 years ago
Buzz’s revelations makes me wonder if one of the indicators should be level of religious indoctrination – maybe correlated with the behavioural hypocrisy of those teaching it.
Mike Jones
15 years ago
My School. EHBHS ! FD has already exposed the nastiest maths teacher in the Universe – the late Col Davis. Fancy saying that Stephens and I were “barnacles on the ship of progress”. D- for motivation, late Col !
I doubt that George Deans (English teacher) loved the school much either – particularly when the (then) year 4 students bundled him into a large galvanised garbage bin and rolled him down the library steps Niagra-style. Shortly before the routine paddy waggon arrived (apologies to Paddy when (s)he gets here).
But just to get even, I was learned statistics and I can be seeing that the rool My School website – much sweated over by crappy schools and good schools alike – is about as useful as a hip pocket in a singlet. Fear factor four; fact factor fuck all.
OMG did you really go to Yarralumla Primary?? I went to Yarralumla Primary!! I was made to feel ashamed in Year 6 because I didn’t know about fractions (my family had gone overseas for a year and they weren’t up to fractions yet there and so I missed fractions and I’m still very sensitive about them). And then as an adult I discovered our school anthem was actually “Mr Tambourine Man” with different words! (“O Yarralumla my school sheltered ‘neath the trees…” &c). Totally freaked me out, man…
At my ‘prestigious’ christian ladies’ college we were subjected to unannounced spot-checking of our undies by Matron to ensure that the colour of our Bond’s Cottontails matched that day’s uniform. The same matron who was VERY friendly with the spinster Home Ec teacher, kept her cask of Coolabah in the Home Ec fridge and wondered why us ‘young ladies’ had to keep checking our chilling Jelly Slices. Strangely, the levels of the communion wine in the unlocked chapel cupboard were dropping unusually quickly too. Years 11 and 12 > ‘hic’
Fractions BOO!
Buzz’s revelations makes me wonder if one of the indicators should be level of religious indoctrination – maybe correlated with the behavioural hypocrisy of those teaching it.
My School. EHBHS ! FD has already exposed the nastiest maths teacher in the Universe – the late Col Davis. Fancy saying that Stephens and I were “barnacles on the ship of progress”. D- for motivation, late Col !
I doubt that George Deans (English teacher) loved the school much either – particularly when the (then) year 4 students bundled him into a large galvanised garbage bin and rolled him down the library steps Niagra-style. Shortly before the routine paddy waggon arrived (apologies to Paddy when (s)he gets here).
But just to get even, I was learned statistics and I can be seeing that the rool My School website – much sweated over by crappy schools and good schools alike – is about as useful as a hip pocket in a singlet. Fear factor four; fact factor fuck all.