The year is 1996, GCSE exams are looming and the summer is upon us. In this last term of school, I develop an unhealthy love of the brummie accent thanks to my History teacher, Mr Penny (sp?). Seriously, I hung on this guys every word. My knowledge of the “iron cur-tin” is second to none at GCSE level because of this man!
Some of my other teachers are pictured, including Mr Welsh, the craziest science teacher we ever had, who spent a lot of his time regaling us with stories of past students causing explosions. I’m not sure if they were true or not, but his thick glaswegian accent certainly added effect.
In the picture above, you can just about mae out 16-year-old me in the bottom right corner, so here it is, just for you: