On a mizzly, drizzly day like today, who better to brighten the spirits, than my own beloved Nigel Molesworth?
It seems strange that all the tuough boys around with faces like wild baboons started life as babes in prams chiz chiz chiz. i mean you kno wot weeds babes are they lie about and gurgle and all the lades sa icky pritty and other uterly wet things.
Being a baby is alright but soon all the boys who hav been wearing peticoats chiz chiz chiz begin to get bigger. they start zooming about like jet fighters climb drane pipes squirt water pistols make aple pie beds set booby traps leave tools about the garden refuse to be polite to visiting aunts run on the flowerbeds make space rockets out of pop's golf bag and many other japes and pranks.
It is at this time that parents look thortfully at their dear chicks and sa
IT IS TIME WE SENT NIGEL TO SKOOL.
CHIZ!
Geoffrey Willans Down With Skool!
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