What do you remember....

...from your sex education at school?


The sex ed video we were shown in year 5 was of a family who happened to be naked (wtf) playing tennis on a beach. I don't remember much beyond that other than thinking the whole thing (naked tennis) was unutterably weird.

chalk hearts melting on a playground wall. 



My deputy headmistress standing on the stage with a banana in one hand and a condom in the other and saying "always remember girls your vagina should be like an exclusive nightclub - no man gets in without a jacket" 

We had an Indian biology teacher who was very open to chatting about it.  Nice guy, dr something but of course being little racist bastards that we were then we nicknamed him Gupta.

Didnt accomplish much other than explain to us that it was our duty to pleasure the other person and her duty to pleasure us and if we both did our roles in bed it would be better than anything else.

Obviously when we were 13 he wasn’t taking into account our later 17 year old abilities to shag anywhere, often behind a nightclub alley or suchlike.

Reminds me of the story about that teacher who gave her lecture to her female pupils on bumsechs. 

A video of a woman giving birth, complete with tearing.

That right there put me off ever wanting kids

Don't think we got any.

Behind the Fives Courts reading porn mags was another thing

I subsequently discovered some Fives Courts in Bryanston near where I used to work and a friend from my former job and I used to go and play there

Much underrated game IMHO

I was dreadful at it but enjoyed it anyway.  Very unusual game these days and nice to have kept it going a little.

And yeah phoebes you just have every male rofer an instinctive lob on.

Visions of serving then crouching in the corner behind the buttress waiting for the cut to come back very fast.

That ball could hurt.

My personal highlights:

- in junior school, my m7 dave unwrapping the tampon they had passed around and deciding to eat it, discovering first hand, after the ambulence men resuscitated him, the dangers of the ever expanding sweetie

- also jr school - the wheeled in giant cathode ray with top loading vcr to show us a classic 80s ed film; best bits were "when a boy hits puberty his voice may change: [androgenous cartoon boy: helLLOOOOOOO]

- the girl from the Plymouth Brethren reciting about 16 different STDs including some really obscure ones like scrofula

- also in secondary school, the 65 year old Mrs Lewis enthusiastically rolling a rubber jonny over the handle of the school bell

sorry the other best bit from the video was 

when a boy passes puberty and is aroused, he may get tumescent [cartton stills of flaccid chap followed by at arms chap accompanied by "BA-DING" noise]

Don't put inside you that you would'nt put in your mouth

@Teclis, yes but I admit I call it buttress fives to avoid the obvious issues

A very 70s book with a Scandinavian looking cartoon couple on the front cover, left (possibly by an older child as a joke) in our Year 4? class library at primary school.  

At secondary school, a very 70s film, with a couple driving around in a Morris Minor, attending various appointments with medical looking people and smiling a lot. 


Yeah we played rugby fives but just called it fives to avoid similar issues.  Technically it wasn’t really rugby fives because the wall was half height rather than fully enclosed.  But close enough.

I remember being given a lecture by a lady who produced a condom in a wrapper and announced she needed a volunteer to demonstrate how to put it on.  Suddenly a room full of teenage boys are all staring at the floor avoiding eye contact until one of them is shoved towards the lady.  I've never seen a man look so relieved as when she announced he just need to hold two fingers out.

Come now clubbers, I bet you never got your first year toast boy preggers...

I've been through playschool, state primary school, prep school, public school, university and law school, and not once was I taught about sex. When was this a thing?  

In the non remedial classes while you’re being taught not to eat the crayons.

Dux learned his sex from John Cleese in The Meaning of Life.  Mrs dux spend a LOT on batteries and tennis classes.

Oh come the fuck on I deserve a heh for the crayon thing.

At a single sex religious school it was something which was rushed through in a sshort a time and as little detail as possible.

Didn't stop two 5th formers getting pissed on communion wine and getting caught rogering each other on the school chapel altar mind you.

young and flustered female biology teacher trying to teach ?12 year old boys the basics only to be interrupted by headmaster showing parents of prospective new pupil around = beetroot red mega flustered teacher trying catastrophically to tell us all to turn to page 56 and start a discussion about er.... oh god... what's on page 56?

At my secondary school it was all part of our Saturday morning lesson dubbed "patrony talks" where some teacher would tell us about stuff we were already aware of such as the evils of booze.

I had triple fucking maths for three years on Saturday mornings you absolute git.

AIDS Icebergs and some contraception myth busting: cling film condoms and cola douches don’t work etc

Well, I guess sex education (proper) started when I was about 12.  Highlights(ish):


1.  Being sternly told my Mr Hawes (a lovely man, but very no-nonsense) that if we were giggling then we weren't mature enough and would be removed.

2.  It followed a school trip to Malham, where those of us fortunate enough to secure a paramour for the trip soon discovered more about the female anatomy (or male, if female) than could be taught in a classroom.  Unfortunate mis-timing of the classes, really.

3.  Endless diagrams of reproductive systems which we were expected to label with correct anatomical terms.  Particular highlights of this were: (i) Mr Hawes announcing "And now the part of the anatomy of which Daniel Tredinnick seemed to be so inordinately keen to display at Malham - the scrotum!" (Daniel was a biit odd and more than slightly disturbed and had a lamentable penchant for getting out his nutsack); and (ii) my m3 Paul Mouland getting a dressing down because he forgot the term "scrotum" and so labelled the relevant body part "ballbag".  Cue much laughter on both counts.

4.  The birth video.  Dear god, I still haven't recovered from that.

5.  That illustrated weird side-cutaway illustration of a wang inside a fanoire.  Leading us to wonder why on earth that might be something which anyone would be motivated to do.

6.  Separate lessons for the girls on "women's things".  Which I can only assume was about impending menstruation and how to stop the boys from snapping your bra strap.

7.  Seeing Nicola Hyde's bangers (top off but bra on) at Malham.  A splendid sight.  A D-cup at that age is a wonder to behold.  Unfortunately the "be" was the only thing she let me hold.

Oh yes, and following that, being taught about STDs and drugs (not at the same time) when I was 14 or 15.  And being very upset by someone leaving a witty rhyming couplet on a scrap of paper on my desk which read "[Badman] gets funky, like the little green monkey".  Kids are little shits, aren't they?

We had a lad in secondary school called norman who, for reasons best known only to him and his god(s) once painted his cock lumi yellow with a stabilo boss and shoved the pointy end of a compass up his japper.  It swelled almost completely round like a tennis ball and he was henceforth known as slazenger

Nice.  Daniel Tredinnick once spent an entire lesson studiously piercing his ear with a mapping pin.  Which then got infected (surprise, surprise).  He also gave himself a tattoo during a maths lesson using a compass and a Quink cartridge.  Like I say, he was a troubled lad.

Year 6 - watched an animated video about puberty, the main thing it taught me was that going through puberty makes you smell so wash more


Year 8 - Biology on purely the scientific parts of body parts and reproduction


Year 11 - session on all the different forms of contraception. Was made awkward by the fact one the girls was sat there pregnant 

They now call it self harm.  80s kids called it "potential annecdotes for if they finally invent the fcking internet so I can stop having to go orienteering to find grumble mags'

True enough.  And heh @ "grumble mags".  Not heard that one before.

porn ban starts imminently.  time for a renaissance in hedgerow finds?

Just like all this stuff about child abuse. When I was a child I had to abuse myself.

He wasn't self-harming though.  He was a tit.


Feebs - we all sat in the STD sessions (that sounds wrong) all pyssing ourselves because one of the girls in our year had - to everyone's knowledge - given one of the boys sitting in the class room a rather delicate social condition which required a course of penicillin to cure.  When the STD in question was mentioned, a cheer was issued by all in the class.  Like I said, kids are monsters.

Grumble mags. See also art pamphlets, scud mags, one handed reading, hedgerow fruit, bongo books.

I remember finding a copy of Fiesta in a hedgerow once.  Slightly damp and a bit mouldy, but it didn't stop me from damned near pulling myself to pieces.  The true win though was finding a copy of Club International in my dad's dresser drawer.  Endless onanism ensued.

Heh.   Hadn't heard "hedgerow fruit" either.  Thanks, m4.

Why Baddo was rummaging in his patriarchal pant draw will be revealed shortly...

Our relatively cool and relatively hot chemistry teacher beginning by telling everyone they weren’t going to be able to embarrass her and listing off the slang for genitals / sex that she knew. The most memorable of which being the desire to “batter down the gates to your love palace with my giant pink battering ram”. 

They are probably troubled by some primordial instinct to groom you Clubbers.  this probably explains the origin of many of your children.

Nice, Arbiter.  I remember one classmate (I forget his name, but his nickname was "DT" and he was another troubled boy) proudly telling the teacher (who had asked if we knew) that the correct word for man fat was "jism".  He looked so proud of himself as he waited for his confirmatory approval from the teacher.  Mrs Bolton, on the other hand, was a seasoned maths teacher who was standing in for the day, and did not approve.  He got a detention and a look that should have curdled his jism for weeks to come (no pun intended).

Well, bugger me dead!  That IS him, Pumpkin!


Well, no fucking surprise there.  What a twat.

Why was the maths teacher axg u for the correct word for a fat man?  is "bloata" some sort of high level theoretical shyt that has to do with the degree of an arc or the prediction of primes?

we dint get taught that down hampshire, we mostly counted how many pigs had been molested that day

Ah well - therein lies the difference.  In Somerset it was heifers. 


I can't believe that Pumpers has found Daniel Tredinnick.  We all knew he'd come to no good.

Well at least now you can linked in him and satisfy your enquiries about his terminal viscosity 

From the profanisaurus

Grumble Bee - a tugster unable to settle on one art pamphlet so flits from one to another.

Also featured are definitions of Grumbleweed, Grumble in the Jungle and a Bongo Bush.

heh at this thread. sorry to arrive late (ooer) to this.


My experience at school was prefaced by my mother who was a medic telling me quite a bit over a cup of tea but that followed my older brother and two older sisters ensuring I had chapter and verse. So by the time I arrived in the school biology lesson with Mr Johnson, aged 12, most of his offerings were a bit after the event.

Johnson was a complete lunatic. He was ex Merchant Navy and an alcoholic.  He had severe delirium tremens and anger issues.  He used to lose his temper like no other human before or since. Most lessons were like that bit in Downfall only angrier, culminating in him finding a victim and beating him half to death, with the rest looking on in horrified silence.

Johnson was known to us as "Johnny" or "Rubber" but never to his face.

Imagine then the moment where he taught the class about contraception and then called it a "rubber Johnny" and we all fell about laughing and then he exploded with rage.

The Headmaster gave us some talks about it too. Something about don't masturbate as it saps your energy.  Or was that the speech at the start of Papillon when the Prison Governor speaks to the new inmates?   Hard to remember which is which, they were so similar.

In the late 70s a boy in my class aged 15 or 16 at an all-boys boarding school  was found with a copy of the Joy of Sex.  The teacher, who was an unmarried Roman Catholic and who missed the happy years of the Spanish Inquisition, was an utter bastard went to town on him.  He humiliated him in front of the whole class and tore the cover off the book before sending the cover to his mother.

Turns out the boy's mother had sent him the book to educate him knowing that the school was taught by up-tight [email protected] like the one who was so cruel to her son and who were completely incapable of providing any sort of balanced sex education.

How some of us went on to procreate, God only knows.


I can't believe this thread is not listed in the "most popular" box.  It's fucking terrific. 

Of horrific, if you happen to be Daniel Tredinnick. 

Tbf it ought to win a bafta for my phrase "terminal viscosity"

Rofettes mainly missing from this thread.   Assume that is because the discovery of sex for the English woman is so unutterably terrifying and traumatic because it usually involves the English male.  

Primary school - nothing, but almost everyone lived on a farm so they didn't need it

Secondary school

- first year, biology teacher drew the life cycle of the frog on the board, indicated that something analogous happened to mammals but she didn't propose to dwell on it.

- second year, Adrienne [surname redacted] had a baby at the age of thirteen, and as a result Frances [ surname redacted] started to bring in good practical information from her older sister who, I now realise, was working as a prostitute in the hotel at the train station in the next town over.

That's it I think.