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It’s times like that, when one cannot help wishing the parents of Adrian Mole – or is it Harry Potter (as they both look and sound much the same to me) – would send their son to any school other than here, or at least insist they are placed in some other peasant’s house rather than mine!No doubt any aspiring surveyor or architect – e.g., the rather charming Sri Lankan boy Daniel Watson – may be able to furnish the boy with a more logical explanation than me for learning all about the rather tedious matter of trigonometry but, at least, my reply was sufficient to shut him up to allow me to resume having arguably more royal blue T-shirt but also, one noticed for the first time (after he was put back into short trousers), that the incorrigible little git was also wearing white sports socks in place of regulation grey knee-socks, which revealed almost as much of his shins as his grey flannel shorts did of his rather luscious-looking thighs!The latter-day abomination known as the has, in many ways, made us all flies to a proverbial spider who lures us into his parlour under the illusion that the latest gadget will afford us easier access to the information we need, and/or to others to whom we need to disseminate it, thus (in theory at least) affording us more free time to do the things we enjoy doing most, and spend less time doing things (often one’s paid employment) one enjoys least but, in many ways, the which continually place demands on others not just to deliver, but to exceed the expectations of others, with the net result being that no-one truly respects the boundaries and limitations of others these days.

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Only today, I witnessed one of the many oft-unpronounced consequences of abolishing corporal punishment in schools, as I supervised a handful of unruly day-boys in after-school detention.

One of the boys in particular, a 17 year-old boy by the name of Tim Daley – with looks so good one wishes one was not prone to erectile dysfunction to allow one to do him ...

Young Tim, you see my dear reader, had not only the audacity to turn up to school wearing a royal blue T-shirt in place of a formal long-sleeved grey school shirt and tie – earning him his after-school detention – but had chosen to defy his form-master’s orders to go home at lunch-time and return correctly attired so as to be found wearing the prescribed uniform in detention.

Consequently I had no hesitation about putting the boy back into short trousers – as one invariably does to boys old enough to wear longs but who misbehave (in order to ensure they look more like younger and less mature boys who are still expected to wear shorts as part of their uniform) – when I saw him immediately after lunch this afternoon, after making clear to him that if I had my way all boys in the school (from the youngest to the eldest, the most unruly to the most obedient inclusive) would be required to wear short trousers throughout the year.

I have to confess, however, that I spent most of the remainder of this afternoon day-dreaming about how and why I would like to regularly punish young Tim’s very slappable thighs than I did attempting to explain the importance of trigonometry to two successive classes of thirteen and fourteen year-olds, as Mathematics is not strictly my pet-subject although I could very easily make either Tim or Tom Daley my little pet so he could be perpetually the subject of my attention!