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treiz01 posted:This was always a weird thing for me in school because my family never listened to the radio when I was growing up. I totally missed the whole Brittney Spears, Ricky Martin, Backstreet Boys etc etc and even cool poo poo like Nirvana because at home I was listening to Beatles records. Me too, except the 80s and early 90s. And instead of Beatles it was American bluegrass music. 
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| # ? Dec 2, 2012 11:10 |
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| # ? May 20, 2013 20:49 |
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Just remembered some more craziness. In my public school for a while the grade below us (I think when we were in grade 7 or 8) started an organized fighting ring. They had rosters with scheduled fights and would force kids to fight each other whether they wanted to or not. They would gather in a big circle at the back of the schoolyard during break and watch/force kids to fight each other. One of the teachers found their printed roster and the whole grade got in a ton of poo poo. The best part was that the kid who organized it oddly enough never had to fight anyone. TL;DR: 13 year old fight club at my public school  WALL OF TEXT INCOMINGAnd the craziest story from my school (how could I forget this?!): There was one kid in my class who had seriously bad anger/emotional problems. Let's call him "Steve". The story that sticks out about Steve happened in grade 4. In grade 4 we had class in one giant room called a quad, divided into 3 different classes and one empty area used for activities and such. We had finished our work and it was time to move to the other section for some activity and Steve decided he wasn't going. The teacher asked him to come along and he just started screaming at her and clung to his desk like he was drowning. She told him we all had to go and he let go of his desk just long enough to take a swing at her and grab back on. So the teacher decided it was probably safest to move the rest of the class and call the principal. The rest of the class gets moved into the activity space and they turn the lights off and tell us to sit quietly. The principal arrives and tells Steve that his mother has been called (as they had problems before) and that he should calm down. Que Steve screaming louder and harder than before. Finally after like 30 minutes of my class sitting by ourselves in a dark section of the room (trying to sit quietly while  -ing so hard) his mother arrives.And that's when everything got worse. Steve's mom starts by just walking in and screaming at him. No talking, no reasoning, just screaming. And Steve screams right back. And then, all of a sudden, we hear a large crash like some kind of desk-like child-covered object has been flipped over and everything goes silent. Suddenly Steve's mom comes past our section dragging Steve in a full-nelson and goes out the door. And just like that it's over. Silence. Steve has been removed and we can return to sane life. That is until 5 minutes later when we hear screaming outside in the hall. It is getting louder. And louder. And louder. Until BANG Steve hits the door to the quad at full tilt and slams against the glass window. His mom, who was chasing him, runs into him, grabs him, and they both disappear again. He didn't come back for two weeks. TL;DR: The gently caress, Steve? ghosthorse fucked around with this message at Dec 3, 2012 around 17:38 |
| # ? Dec 3, 2012 17:12 |
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At my old school some kids tried doing the kid sitcom "big fight" after school thing. It ended up with them awkwardly trying to throw punches with only one or two people watching until the principal dragged them to his office.
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| # ? Dec 3, 2012 17:19 |
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ghosthorse posted:Just remembered some more craziness. In my public school for a while the grade below us (I think when we were in grade 7 or 8) started an organized fighting ring. They had rosters with scheduled fights and would force kids to fight each other whether they wanted to or not. They would gather in a big circle at the back of the schoolyard during break and watch/force kids to fight each other. One of the teachers found their printed roster and the whole grade got in a ton of poo poo. The best part was that the kid who organized it oddly enough never had to fight anyone. My best friend from elementary school REALLY wanted to do this for some reason. He came over for a sleepover once and we were hanging out in my basement. He takes a look at my hockey stick sitting in the corner, picks it up and says, "Want to fight?" Sleepovers were increasingly few and far between after that. He also had this thing he would do where he would take his dick out of his briefs, make a loud noise and point, and then punch you and yell about how gay you were if you looked.
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| # ? Dec 3, 2012 18:13 |
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Senior Woodchuck posted:Yeah, go ahead and make it 4. He wasn't seriously hurt, I don't think he even bled, but I went there. Make it five. There was a really, really annoying guy who kept turning around and talking to me and putting his hands on my desk. I said, do it and I'll stab your hand with this pencil. He did, I did, he showed me a grey pencil mark in his hand a few months later. A graphite scar?
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| # ? Dec 3, 2012 19:32 |
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McCloud24 posted:
I've seen several variations on that when I was in the Navy. I think that sorta just happens when you put a bunch of guys together.
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| # ? Dec 3, 2012 19:41 |
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Finally remembered something to share! In the eighth grade I met Darren. I was not exactly the most popular student, I had some "acting out" issues of my own that made it a bit harder for me to make friends, but apart from that jumping into high school from elementary was kind of scary to me. So of course when I found out that Darren and I shared a common interest, which was playing around with emulators and ROMs and the like, I figured what the hell let's hang out. Big mistake. Things started out innocuously enough, he'd come over to my house and we'd play video games and watch Dragonball Z and he'd go home. As well we'd hang out around lunch period. But all these bad clues kept dropping in our conversations. He'd tell me about how he killed and tortured animals in his back yard, and I can't remember the details but there was something about embedding a knife into his sister's bedroom wall. Creepy remarks aside, he was also super loving clingy and took the whole idea of us hanging out way too far and would just not stop following me around at lunch even if I was obviously trying to shake him. I remember once he even got the vice principal to help him find me. Some other incidents happened, he would be spotted making strange faces and sound effects for no apparent reason, (for the sound effects, one teacher had nicknamed him Gerald McBoing Boing) and commit other social gaffes during gym class and elsewhere. I can't remember too many specifics but it was becoming clear to me that this guy was kinda fuckin nutso and I had to sever this friendship. It all came to a head one day in the hallways at school. Darren had apparently pissed off this athletic guy named Alex, making some remark about his sister, to which Alex responded by grabbing Darren by the collar and hoisting him up against the lockers (Darren was kind of short) and shouting in his face to "NEVER SAY ANYTHING ABOUT MY GODDAMN SISTER!" Darren had a meltdown when he was let down to the ground and started verbally lashing out at everyone who was gathered around this spectacle, myself included. I took this opportunity to tell him that I don't think we should hang out anymore, because I was honestly sick of backing him up when he'd piss people off, and just sick of his crap in general. He replied by telling me that my art projects that I was doing at home "SUCKED!!" and in a rare moment of restraint on my behalf, I guess I knew I had the upper hand anyway, I just laughed at him. He flew into another rage and made some vague threats about bringing a weapon to school, which a senior student valedictorian type heard and went to the principal. Darren didn't really talk to anyone else that year, and definitely didn't talk to me again. I remember we had an art class together the next semester, though. In this class we were all assigned 4 to a table, but I guess an exception was made for Darren because he just sat sullenly at his own work table near the teacher's desk and didn't participate in class assignments, he just sat there drawing Magitech armor from Final Fantasy and explosions. A couple months before the school year ended Darren was gone and was never heard from again.
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| # ? Dec 3, 2012 19:58 |
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When I was a child I went to Christian summer camps with my church. It wasn't like a "dinosaurs-are-a-myth-and-you-need-to-be-saved" thing; just normal-rear end camps where you shot bows and arrows and swam and stayed in the woods and then on the last day you made a cross out of beads or something. I think this story was from around 3rd/4th grade if I recall correctly. The first day the councilors would always assign us cabins. Each cabin was ~15-20 kids staying in bunk beds and they did their best to make sure they split up churches that came together so that you would be with strangers and feel loving awkward as poo poo and/or meet new people. This time I ended up with only one other kid in my cabin that I knew from my church named Jeff. The first night in the cabin and we're all in our bunk beds in sleeping bags. There was this one kid from another church that apparently thought it was really funny to keep making animals noises, like a wolf or a bear was outside the cabin ready to eat us. This goes on for a bit, but most everyone is ignoring him. Then, out of nowhere, Jeff snaps. He jumps out of his bunk and loving RUNS across the room at the kid that was making the noises while screaming at him "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP gently caress YOU I'M TRYING TO SLEEP" and just starts beating the poo poo out of this kid. Just punch after punch after punch. He eventually forces the dude all the way inside his sleeping bag until Jeff can zip it up completely trapping him in there and just keeps loving punching and screaming and swearing while the rest of us are just frozen watching him murder this dude. And then Jeff just stops, walks back across the room, and gets back in bed like nothing happened. The kid in the sleeping bag isn't even moving or making noises anymore. So, we all just sit there in absolute dead silence afraid to either A) piss off Jeff who is apparently a psychopath or B) unzip the bag and see if this kid is dead. Eventually the kid in the bag starts moving and manages to unzip it and get himself out onto the floor. He's loving shaking and crying and bleeding from the face and unable to stand up and finally he almost gets to his feet, and then just collapses to all fours and starts puking everywhere. Then poo poo really hit the fan. I was the kind of kid that throws up if I see throw up. I start trying to get up out of bed and get out of the cabin without seeing the puke, but apparently the guy in the bunk next to me was also the kind of kid that throws up when he sees throw up so he starts puking everywhere. Well then I double-over and I'm puking too. Everyone starts screaming and jumping out of bed and running out of the cabin, but now several of the guys that were slow to get out of the top bunks are now trapped up there because they don't want to walk across the puke-laden floor and now some of them are loving screaming and bawling. Finally a camp councilor comes to see what happened and finds a cabin with: over half of the kids missing because they ran into the woods to get away, two kids throwing up everywhere, one kid loving bleeding collapsed on the ground in a pile of his own vomit, multiple kids trapped in the top bunks crying, and loving Jeff in his bed acting like none of it was happening. Jeff didn't stay at camp after that. Jeff would later break into the altar boy closet at our church and attempt to use the candle lighters there to burn the church down. He was not successful, although he did blacken some drop-down ceiling tiles.
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| # ? Dec 3, 2012 20:33 |
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ghosthorse posted:TL;DR: The gently caress, Steve?  I think we had a girl who was a lot like this, who became the Expy of "April" after she left. Totally sympathising with you bro.
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| # ? Dec 4, 2012 18:38 |
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There were a couple of kids in my junior high who had the uncontrollable thing going on. There was one English teacher who was a volatile, diva-esque older lady who somehow got the uncontrollable kids in her classes without fail. She had a total meltdown the day two of these kids ganged up to start throwing things from her desk--stapler, tape dispenser, little bust of Shakespeare, framed picture of her husband and kids, etc.-- out the windows, apparently. Then she had a nice long vacation, while the assistant principal took over her classes. She was called "Psycho Linquie" forever after. Just looked up the stapler-throwing kid, and he now sells insurance That was not what I expected.
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| # ? Dec 4, 2012 19:24 |
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I feel horrible but after so many sleepless nights at camps due to that one loving kid who won't shut up, I feel nothing but sympathy for Jeff. Am I a monster? Probably. I bet that kid learned that night time was for sleeping and shutting the gently caress up. When I was a kid we went camping with our class. At night my friend made sort of lip-smacking sounds and general mouth sounds and kept rolling around. It drove me so insane I threatened to kick him out of the tent if he didn't shut the gently caress up. I can't think of anything else that could drive me to insane melt-down violence other than loving with my sleep. But I was seriously ready to just unzip the tent and drag him and his bag outside and then defend my tent from anyone coming back with my knife. Oh man this is bringing back more memories. I was that crazy kid. At some camp somewhere else we were in cabins and there was some gate that was blowing in the wind. Once I become fixated on a sound like that I can't sleep and the rage just builds and builds. I went outside with a rock to keep the gate from moving, but by the time I got back to bed the wind had picked up and the rock just wasn't stopping it from moving and clicking. I ended up running out in my long-johns and a flashlight and an axe and destroyed the old gate. A few rage filled swings later I had the tip hinge destroyed at the gate dug into the ground unable to move. If it had been a person making that sound, probably the same solution. I eventually discovered ear plugs, sleeping pills, and chilling the gently caress out. Baronjutter fucked around with this message at Dec 4, 2012 around 19:36 |
| # ? Dec 4, 2012 19:34 |
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Baronjutter posted:I eventually discovered ear plugs, sleeping pills, and chilling the gently caress out. I'm an insanely light sleeper, I even have trouble sharing my bed with an SO (ear plugs solved that problem). Snoring puts me in an incredibly dark mood, and if some kid was making noise on purpose? So I can empathize. Still, I think I'd draw the line at forcing a kid into a sleeping bag so I can go all Jason Voorhees on him .
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| # ? Dec 5, 2012 15:24 |
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We had one slightly retarded kid that I had gone through the school system with since elementary school named Jon. Jon was very easily manipulated and would do pretty much anything you told him to if he thought you'd praise him for it. People would get him to do things like crap in the urinal, run into the girls locker room, pull the fire alarm, etc. During high school I managed a local lan gaming center. Jon was a regular at our gaming center and would generally annoy the poo poo out of all the other kids at the center. We very nearly banned him for life when he showed a couple of 13 year old kids naked pictures of his "girlfriend" but took pity on him because of his disability. One day while I was working the front desk, a detective walks in and asks to speak to a manager. I tell her I can help her out and she introduces herself as a detective for our city's police department. Specifically the sex crimes division. She asks me if I know Jon and right away I think "Oh God, who has he raped?" I tell her that I know him and ask what he's done. The detective then informs me that it was in fact him that was the victim. She goes on to explain that Jon has been very disturbingly and sickeningly harassed by unknown individuals. She says that Jon has been getting e-mails threatening him with surprise sex and violence and that someone has also been calling his home phone and leaving messages with deep breathing and the occasional threat. The police department had subpoenaed the e-mail provider and found the IP address of the account sending the e-mails and it turns out they're coming from our lan gaming center. She has the dates of all the e-mails and would like to know who was on the computers at that time. Our store is very friendly with the police because we get all sorts of weird vandalism and they're always great at helping us out so I look through our system and find out who was on the systems at the time the e-mails were sent. Guess who the only person online at those times was? Jon This kid had been sending himself sexually threatening e-mails and phone calls for months. What the gently caress?
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| # ? Dec 11, 2012 17:29 |
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Mind Loving Owl posted:At my old school some kids tried doing the kid sitcom "big fight" after school thing. It ended up with them awkwardly trying to throw punches with only one or two people watching until the principal dragged them to his office. I grew up in rural Oregon for most of my childhood, which for anyone who's experience with Oregon comes from Portlandia and various award winning Musicians, is pretty much equivalent to the deep south. The town I grew up in was populated mainly by people who had grown up in "old" Oregon (they mean the times before we were a reasonable liberal state and instead were a hotbed of KKK activity and racism), gotten rich and then moved back to the sticks to raise their children in a traditional manner (my town was about two miles end to end and had eight churches). This was the only place I've ever seen a true "after school fight" like in the sitcoms. A bunch of kids gathered together, usually out in a corn field or by the Llama farm standing in a circle while two kids wailed on each other. And it was certainly a hand me down from our fathers generation. No parents ever objected or were called and I don't think anyone was ever disciplined harshly for fighting, there was just such a pervasive "boys will be boys" attitude. The only time I ever got scolded for it was when I scratched a kid instead of punched him, because my Dad told me that if I was going to get in fights I needed to not leave any evidence. Suffice to say when I moved away it felt like I had traveled through time. I went from a place where I was the second kid on our entire block to own a black and white gameboy and where my best friend owned a Super Nintendo to a city where every kid had a gameboy color and an N64 and I was the only kid in my social circle who could ride a bike with any skill, who knew how to build a tree house and definitely the only one who was allowed to carry a pocket knife. But the thing that struck me as the oddest as a kid was that all the stores played modern pop music on the radio instead of country and oldies.
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| # ? Dec 11, 2012 21:21 |
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Junk posted:Darren, the saddest serial killer. This is horrible, for everyone involved. I think a lot of what makes these kids and, possibly, every kid a little crazy is that they have not yet learned that you can't just freak out whenever you get emotional. Even now, I do occasionally have to bite back the rare but powerful desire to just flip a desk, shout a word salad of slurs and stomp off into the night punching humanity at random. However, I have had 28 years of social conditioning slowly whittle away at the purity and joy of my soul, and am now aware of the many logical reasons why I should not do that. Most of which I learned in elementary school, where the penalties for the occasional psychotic outburst were less severe than what I would face now. There's only so much damage you can do when you're eight. The killing animals thing is hosed, though. Either he was just loving with you or he has victims. As for content: I live in Canada, and we learn french here. I was pretty good at it, in fact one of the three kids good enough to take the super-advanced class in grade five. One of my nerdmates only spoke french. All the time. We were not in french immersion (where you do in fact speak french all the time). Her parents spoke english at home, and did not know the language. She spoke in english to them, but as soon as she crossed onto school property it became a magic french zone where every encounter must be conducted in a language that almost no one could speak conversationally. Admittedly, it was hilarious to watch teachers and school officials struggle to understand her and not really having anything they could do about it. She was a decent enough student and didn't do some of the more aggressively stupid things that educators must deal with daily. Maybe I once knew the youngest troll. Umbilical Lotus fucked around with this message at Dec 12, 2012 around 09:20 |
| # ? Dec 12, 2012 09:15 |
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El Estrago Bonito posted:The only time I ever got scolded for it was when I scratched a kid instead of punched him, because my Dad told me that if I was going to get in fights I needed to not leave any evidence. Useful training for married life!
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| # ? Dec 12, 2012 09:31 |
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Oh hey guys, remember this crazy bitch April I mentioned? Me and my mom saw her yesterday she has a carer now.And...holy poo poo this carer got her to shut the gently caress up and sit down. ....I'm scared. It's like watching Kratos make the Kraken go back into the sea with a pure stare or something. I mean it's good that SOMEONE finally managed to control that psycho girl but I feel for that carer now in the hell she's wading through to help another cope with life.
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| # ? Dec 13, 2012 04:58 |
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Oh yeah, found this thread again! Andrew This was at the school that I've mentioned before. Basically there used to be a judo class run in the gym that was public, school got paid for the use of the gym. My parents decide to enrol me in it and so every Monday I wandered down to the gym after school and learnt Judo. It was during these first three weeks that I met another member of my school "Andrew". He was about 200lb at the age of 10ish, and, like many other kids mentioned above, smelt of sour milk. He was incredibly greasy, and had short, puddingbowl hair. He was also obsessed with wrestling, as in WWE stuff (I'd never heard of it). It was his first session, so I was told to spar with him in the 10 minute warmup before we learnt anything. He was the same height as me was roughly twice as wide. He had that look in his eyes as we squared up that made me feel fairly uneasy, but hey, I thought, I shouldn't judge him.  = How much do you know about wrestling. = This is judo! Shall I show you the basic throws?= I know how to throw.= Lets go then!Next thing I know, I'm grabbed by the tunic with one hand and by the foot with the other and I'm held in the air like a victory trophy. Then he leans forward and drops me/drops himself on me. It felt like being crushed by a slightly moist and extremely heavy cushion, which turned into excruciating pain as he put me in what I guess would be some form of submission hold. I'm there on the ground basically screaming that I submit when he gets up and in my relief, I get up and begin to crawl away. By this point the coach is coming over and telling him to stop. I look up, see these two merciless eyes and then boom. He loving knee dropped my back. This was in my 1st/2nd week of judo and I couldn't do poo poo to defend myself. It was outside of school, but every day I saw him and I stayed the gently caress away from him. I continued with the judo, he did not. Last I heard of him he was living the dream in Vegas.
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| # ? Feb 18, 2013 21:44 |
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I was in special ed classes a lot as a kid, so I knew plenty of weird kids. But the worst was Jonathan, in grade 6. He would sit in the back of the room and carve up his forearms with whatever was handy. He was hostile to everyone and it didn't matter if they took his pencils or whatever he was using to cut himself, he'd figure out a way to be bleeding. And it's not like little scratches, he'd be covered in scabs and wounds and I don't recall anyone ever doing anything about it. I hope he got help.
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| # ? Feb 18, 2013 22:58 |
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Umbilical Lotus posted:She spoke in english to them, but as soon as she crossed onto school property it became a magic french zone where every encounter must be conducted in a language that almost no one could speak conversationally. There was a girl at my high school two years older than me who never spoke a single word. She could totally talk on the phone, but if you tried to speak to her in person, she would not say a word back to you whether you were a teacher or a fellow student. Now you'd imagine this sort of person would be really non-active in school activities, but she was a big part of our color guard. She was really good at it too - she could fling a saber or rifle with the best of them. Her fellow guard girls just sort of learned how to communicate with her non-verbally I guess. When she graduated from high school, the superintendent gave her an award for never missing a single day of school. And not just high school, but literally since she was in kindergarten. He claimed he'd never seen anyone in his years as an educator do it. I have no idea what happened to her. I like to imagine she went to college, got over whatever crippling social anxieties she had, and made a good life for herself.
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| # ? Feb 18, 2013 23:13 |
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^ There was a guy in my science class in tenth grade who was like this. Never once spoke a word. Big ol' goth too. For some reason he'd come sit with my friends and I at lunch despite nobody ever having spoken to him, and he would completely refuse to speak then too, even if we spoke directly to him. Once I was working a shift at the movie theatre and he came in with some girl and he was chatting and laughing his rear end off and I nearly poo poo myself.
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| # ? Feb 19, 2013 00:01 |
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I went to one of the biggest high schools in Louisiana. Some gems I can recall are the entire football team being busted for taking ecstasy at practice, and the couple who hosed on the dance floor at prom. God bless America. To be fair, I had pulled some crazy poo poo in school myself. In kindergarten I attempted CPR on a kid who winded himself falling of a jungle gym. Dumb and Dumber CPR. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=m-HmvPr7mG0 It didn't work. Twilight of the Pogs fucked around with this message at Feb 19, 2013 around 02:35 |
| # ? Feb 19, 2013 02:25 |
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In elementary school... well there was an abundance of crazies. But one in particular always stands out for me. In second grade, part way through the year, we got a new student. They brought her up to the front of the class and introduced her. Her name was Chelsea and she had just moved in locally from the other side of the country. The desks in our classroom were pushed up together in squares of four desks. I was seated in one of these in the far back corner alone, with the last three empty desks. Naturally Chelsea was given a desk right next to me. After we began to talk, it almost immediately turned bizarre. One of the first things she told me was that on her first night sleeping in the new house, an [American] Indian woke her up from her sleep and warned her that the house was cursed and that her family had to move out as soon as possible or the curse would kill them all. The next day she in to school wearing a pendant and told me that the Indian came in the night again and gave her this necklace. Supposedly the Indian said that "it is power" and that it would protect her from the curse. After about a week of this stuff, she said that the Indian - who visited her every night - told her that her family had survived longer in that house than anyone had before. At one point she told me that she found a secret room in her basement which was full of the skeletons of other families who had once lived there. And then it got even weirder. During an assignment where you had to work with the person next to you, suddenly I she started speaking gibberish when we were half-way through. Not being able to communicate made working almost impossible, until figured out that she could communicate with me in writing. It was so stupidly annoying to work that way. When we were near the end, suddenly she started speaking normally again and with a look of surprise she told me that "somebody took me away somewhere" and that when she was "gone" she was speaking some other language which she didn't really know how to speak. I think it was supposed to be Spanish but after all this time I can't recall. Later, during an indoor recess I found her playing with an Etch-a-Sketch and was drawing some kind of spiral pattern. She started telling me that she was remembering things,and that now she remembered that she'd met the Indian before in the past. That many years ago her family had went on vacation to Mexico and visited some ancient ruins. She said that this spiral pattern was drawn somewhere in those ruins and was significant to her fate or something. She claimed that while looking at the ruins she was briefly separated from her parents. While she was separated the Indian came to her and told her about some prophecy and that she had some role in it. Then he made her forget. Not long after that she stopped coming to school. I never heard anything about why. I can only assume that she was taken out of school due being crazy. I still wonder sometimes what became of her.
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| # ? Feb 19, 2013 05:24 |
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| # ? May 20, 2013 20:49 |
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Vulpes Vvardenfell posted:Not long after that she stopped coming to school. I never heard anything about why. I can only assume that she was taken out of school due being crazy. I still wonder sometimes what became of her. Sounds like a kid with an overactive imagination, who probably saw something on TV or in a movie that inspired her. We had tons of those when I was in school. One claimed he came from a wealthy family, and he'd wear "nice" clothes every day (like, slacks and a collared shirt, which for elementary school was pretty formal). He told me that he had to bribe his butler to buy him a pair of jeans so he could see what it was like to be a 'regular' boy. He also tried to start a military at the school - we'd join during recess but give him crap about not arming us with real grenades. Later I happened to go by his home while out with my parents. It was nice enough, but not butler-nice.
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| # ? Feb 19, 2013 12:39 |
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