Teachers or foster parents?

I know I’ve cunted people who, despite sending their children to school, don’t toilet train and send them in nappies, expecting teachers to toilet train their children.


But this really did result in a sharp intake of breath.
Some of the children who attend Lantern Academy struggle with basic communication. They cannot say “I’m thirsty. I need the toilet”
Their parents speak English at home, the children have no learning disabilities, and yet they are going to school unable to communicate.

Some parents today don’t know how to play with their children, so the school runs a weekly class, for parents, to teach them.

Eight out of 27 four year old children were in nappies. One mother said her son “was late in reaching his milestones, so… the school really helped”

Well, madam, if fat Barry constantly refered to your little precious as ‘Piss Pants’, I’m fairly sure you wouldn’t be so fucking complacent.
Hey Miss, Piss Pants just shit himself!

Bring back the school bully!

Nominated by Jeezum Priest.

72 thoughts on “Teachers or foster parents?

  1. I was a secondary school teacher for a whole year about 15 years ago. Utterly shite, the entitlement of the little cunts and the facilitating of it by the schools was piss boiling. One teacher took the washing home for one kid. Fucking ridiculous.
    I could write an essay on the failings of the education system and it’s effect on the culture and ethic of this country.
    Most teachers were just lefty cunts. Glad I left.

    • You are Mr Gilbert from The Inbetweeners and I claim my £5.

      Fair play though, I would have walked before lunch on the first day.

      • He was a role model. The actor who played him was once a teacher, doubtless he loved that role.

      • Someone once said I’d have made a great teacher. I have no clue what gave him that idea and pointed out to the delusional cunt that I would have murdered at least 6 pupils before lunchtime. Probably the head and some of the teachers as well as a few parents. I reckon the nutters in USA school shootings are thinking along the right lines.

      • right-on UNfunny ‘funny’ cunt romesh ratanangan was a teacher too. Thick as a castle wall as far as he came across on Cats does Countdown, if someone like him is teaching ’em, … ugh. A maths teacher, no less, .. the cunt has only gotten the numbers once, out of at least a dozen rounds.

        The blind leading the blind.

      • (also he was one if those (many) cunts on that show who seemed *proud* of how thick they are).

        I suppose cunts got their appearance fee either way.

    • Just wait till Mistress Phillipson starts her “teeth brushing lessons” (I doubt that gormless tart will be doing any of the tutouring). I think there is a strong case for making anybody who wishes to breed, to be made to take a test, rather like driving – no certificate, no hanky panky.

    • Sounds like they can’t stand their ground and think they are being virtuous when they are being taken advantage of.

  2. Why anyone – in the last 5 years or so – would bring children into this basket case of a country is a mystery to me. The stupid and feckless must now be outbreeding the sensible at a rate of at least 100 to 1.

    • A year or so until the ‘lockdown boom’ wave hit the streets. Born to a slew of cunts who thought ‘that’ period of time didn’t merit maybe holding off, and just carried on regardless.

      Bad as it IS already, I’d say we ain’t seen nothin’ yet ….

  3. If “The Great Reset” meant taking everyone back to 1950s parenting and education, and going back to analogue communications, I would vote for it. Even though it would mean the end of IsAC. McDonald Hobley could announce the necessary changes.

    Good morning, everyone.

    • Or a twenty year blanket moratorium on making any more people, maybe get what’s already here into SOME shape or form.

      ‘Course I’ve been thinking that going back thirty years, now, at this stage.. could’ve already been done/tried… myriad complexities of course, granted, but it couldn’t be much more of a fuck up than how things are going….

      Call it a thought experiment…

    • We could all buy CB’s and communicate that way.
      It’d certainly be interesting to hear each other’s voices.
      For example, in my head, my voice sound cultured and accentless, whereas in practice, as MNC was very keen to point out, moi actual voice sounds loike Fred West crossed with Pam Ayres, moi luvver.
      It’s all projection from him, of course, as his voice sounds like a higher, lithpier version of Lily Thavage…

      • Morning LL…thanks for that link, fucking hilarious!
        The second comment…”I reckon John is also his mother and his sister”!
        Cissy pönce…the guy should have doused him with the jetwash.

      • My cousin had a CB set. We used to talk to some right oddballs.

        Looking back, they probably operated one-handed while waiting for one of us to give a hint of an address.

        ‘Now then, now then, this is Big Jim ar Stoke Mandeville. Any little buddies out there with nice and pretty sisters?’

      • In imagine JP as sound like John Shuttleworth.

        The thing is JP when you say bring back the School Bully. These feral little cunts are the school bully.

        I could tell you some stories from having a niece who was at school with some of these little future criminal pieces of shit and some of the things they used to say to the girls.

        And saying Maaaaate! won’t cut the fucking mustard.

      • Whose John Shuttleworth?

        I’m Yorkshire, I say summat, and thee/thou.

        I’m little. Could have been a champion jockey, if I weren’t frit of horses!

      • I once rang in a traffic update to my local radio station. Instead of just reading it out they played the fucking recording. I thought ‘this cunt sounds a right a puff’ before it clicked it was me. Not doing that again.

      • It’s all in the accent, Mogs, old bean.

        I sound like a right thick, but I’m well educated, and amongst other Yorkshire Tykes, sound right posh.

    • I wouldnt vote for that, and wouldnt need to. The economy is far too integrated and therefore reliant on digital communications now that it once was. Has been since the old man installed fibre optical cables around Gatwick and the Crawley area, as well as various sites across the south.

      No point looking back to a pre-digital mass internet access age, as a cunter here once remarked, the world eide web was a natural progression of telecoms..

      May as well wish for the return of horse and cart.

      • There was something rather splendid about the Hansom cab if the ‘Adventures of Sherlock Holmes’ were anything to go by. And there were three posts a day back then. Right thinking people might well vote for such improvements. I will just email Mr Farage.

      • Hansom cabs may be making a comeback, if our twatting Government aren’t given the brutal kicking they deserve.

      • Hmm.. ‘Twenty thousand cunts..’ the name refers to Jules Verne’s novel. Hansom cabs as well.

        Are you a fan of Victoriana/Steampunk?

        I just shall hop in my Martian fighting machine in the Union Jack livery.

        ‘Make way for the kings’ tripods, hottentots!’

  4. When I was at school, the seniors ran a special class called 3 X. That immediately told me there’s something wrong there. The piss was taken out of them at playtime, I can reassure you of that. The teacher was a Mr Campbell who stood no nonsense, who also taught the so-called normals at sport and was a strict disciplinarian. He would have me in stitches with these bulging staring eyes, going about his authoritarian manner, which is still needed to this day in my opinion. If you were good at at sport like I was, he would praise you up to the hilt. He was a fair man and miss his sort.

  5. Fosters Parents. The bennies gang on local estates who drink while looking after their kids, cheap cheese and tomato frozen pizzas in the oven while the TV roars and bludgeons the mites with sound and colour, possibly something a little too violent for their age.

    My great aunty and uncle from Worthing wrre foster parents. Raised a real monster who used to talk like a duck, was 6ft tall and a lard arse at 11 years old and used to put his hands up girls’ skirts in the playground. Pushed a carer over and lifted her dress over her head.

    A fucking nightmare.

    • Ho ho, ‘bennies’!
      Have heard that in years, CP!
      “Are you a bennie tied to a tree?”
      “Aaaarrgghhhh! Bennie on the loose!”

  6. I vividly remember my first day at school back in 63. Lots of crying mainly by the boys but cannot remember any shitty nappies. Our teacher read us a story called the little red engine. Never liked school, but I respected the teachers. God help them if they had to teach now!. As so often stated the past is a foreign country.

    • Mine was ’74. I recall my mother talking to the teacher, then leaving. I was busy by then with a Fisher Price Jumbo jet and a die-cast Renault 5.

      A couple of later arrivals cried when their parents left.

      20 years later a junior-infants schoolteacher friend of mine told me a new thing she was witnessing where needy parents actually offended that their kid didn’t cry, when others DID ; .. would re-do their “I’m leaving now” & “Are you going to miss mummy” and suchlike …and actually goad their kid into tears.

      Then, they’d fuck off, somehow more content in themselves.

      • What narcississtic cunts. They should be put on a register for such behaviour.

      • I used to do reading with Primary school kids ( yes, I was checked and I have a piece of paper to prove it)

        I absolutely loved doing it. One day I suggested that if a child had a favourite book at home, they could bring it on reading days to read to me.

        Sea of blank faces. Poor little sausages, some of them thought I was saying they HAD to bring a book from home.

        Broke my fucking heart, that did.

      • Yep, seen that, but the nursery staff were pretty brutal about fucking the shit bags off, bless them.

        Your kiddy isn’t needy, you are.
        Your fucking pathetic if you need your child to validate your ” good mummy” credentials.

    • @bb…. looking at one of my junior school photos just the other day circa 1958….all smiling faces and not an effnik or uncle Ben in sight we had one polish girl and an Italian lad both with English mothers… unfortunately those times are dead and buried and will NEVER come back, this realm is in a death spiral, it’s a wonder we haven’t had an earthquake the long dead of our nation should be spinning in their graves ☠️🌪️

    • Nappies were long gone for my contemporaries in school year 86′-87′. There was some crying, and we read Roger Red Hat/Billy Blue Hat and watched Cosmo and Dibbs on You and Mei> with its reggae beat intro..

      Don’t know what was in the charts. Bananarama? UB40?

  7. Any child who is not clean will be admitted to Bell End Infants.

    I M A Cunt
    Headmaster (and not Head-fucking- Teacher)

  8. It brings joy to my heart to read of the catastrophically negative impact kids have on people’s lives. It really does make me chuckle.

    The moment a guy hears those gut wrenching words “I’m pregnant”, he knows his life is fucked and officially over. She’ll get fat, moody, needy and bitchy and 9 months later get ready for no sleep, no fun, no sex, no money and no peace all gift wrapped in a lifetime of worry, torment and ingratitude. Hahahahahaha.

    Early this morning I went downstairs to work on the ‘puter. On the way I didn’t sever my foot on any random Lego pieces. Didn’t trip over any random doll or other tat. Didn’t have my ear drums pierced with screeching. Didn’t retch from the stench of liquid shit. Didn’t need to turn off the TV blaring moronic cartoons. Didn’t need to take any medication to help defeat the latest kid plague doing the rounds. I rather peacefully logged into my bank account and watched all my dollars having a party, just waiting for me to spend them on something expensive and exclusively for ME!

    Time to make some more coffee for ME without having to do anything else for any other living creature, except my cat. Who’s awesome and last time I checked wasn’t costing the tax payer a fucking thing.

    • I couldn’t have kids.

      Never wanted them.

      At 25 had a bollock removed for cancer and before chemo was asked by the consultant in charge of my treatment did i want to put some spunk on ice for the future.


      • Ditto-ish, CP, .. ‘Do you want the reversible vasectomy, or the irreversible one?

        jesus wept why would anyone want a reversible one?

        Talk about putting a price on peace of mind, overall, though but ..

    • My cat is also awesome.
      He’s called Dexter, because he has a serial killer vibe going on.

      My Chu is awesome. He keeps my feet warm while I’m having my old person nap.

      My kids are awesome. They have steady jobs, have worked for the same companies for years.

      My Lass is awesome. She’s in the top tenth percentile on the IQ scale, is a maths/science genius and could kick your arse all over Sheffield.

      What have you got?

      • Oh yes, sorry.

        A cat. Will the cat be picking out, and paying for your retirement home?

  9. Licence for children time. With one very exclusively limited set of criteria that’ll exclude you whether you are Waynetta Slob “smoking a fhag” or Cressida Hedley-Smythe neglecting to get your brat organic foie gras knitted yoghurt.

  10. All we’re seeing is the result of successive left wing governments happily removing all individual responsibility from the dregs of society. Labour and the Tories.

    We’re far too generous with benefits, school, healthcare etc. These parents who cannot look after their kids are the same parents who turn up at A&E to get free NHS branded Calpol for their kids as they’ve spent all their money on weed and takeaways. The same parents who get child benefit and spend it on clothes, mobiles, and sky TV. It’s why we shouldn’t remove the two child cap. It’s their decision to breed whilst skint.

    Nothing will change until people in power start saying that people need to stand on their own two feet and take responsibility for themselves.

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