If Jack helped you off a horse, would you help jack off a horse?

Queynte, a noun occuring in Chaucer's Canterbury Tales. The Miller, being a sanguine and bawdy character, was prone to grabbing women by their queynte, much like a cross between a bowling ball and a mitten.
In the same way you can briefly get away with the word bastard during discussions of Nativity Plays, reading the Miller's Tale is the one time you can say the word cunt to a teacher, safe in the knowledge that you are appreciating an etymology, and not simply saying cunt.

jimmy hill, tutankhamun, etcetera : evolved forms of the chinny reckon. Whereas chinny reckon involves scratching your chin, these remixes can involve scratching thin air where your chin would be, if it was the size of Jimmy Hill's. Even better, Tutankhamun's death mask.

Weird kind of tie-in here. My friend Stuart and I used to call weeing into muffs a 'Golden Eggyolk' - we didnt think that was how babies were made, but rather used it as an example of how filthy an imaginary porn film that we didnt watch was to impress our friends.
He now lives in the Czech Republic, but we still ask each other if we've given any golden eggyolks recently whenever we speak.
Has this ever happened in real life? Does this practice have a name? (other than golden eggyolk obviously).

Tiny electrical resistors are colour-coded so that you can tell each one's, er, resistance. They're too small to write numbers on, you see.
Our teacher, a right twat, had the nmemonic 'Billy Brown Relaxes On Your Gym But Values Good Whisky' for the black, brown, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, violet, grey and white stripes.
We came up with the infinitely more memorable (and substantially more racist) 'Black Bastards Rape Our Young Girls But Violet Gives Willingly'.
Actual number of engineers produced from that class: zero.

Often, boys will believe that girls only have one hole - a universal hole for everything. A hole from which drops piss that stinks a bit like poo. And poo that has the golden glisten of piss and babies.
As our understanding inevitablly developed, we discovered that the front hole had ANOTHER two holes in it, like women were a damn Mandlebrot set of ever more specific holes.
One boy who clung to the single-hole theory also believed that a vibrator was a kind of footspa, and that you could ask your hairdresser for a blowjob.

Advanced bummer, or, if you will, bum chum third dan.

The noise the whole class made when our form tutor Mrs Negus entered the classroom. The noise was (of course) the sound of her vibrators, of which rumour had it, she had a drawer full.

An expression of delight or surprise that originated with Andy Bain's impression of a 1970s funky wah-wah guitar, of the sort that would accompany Dirty Harry in a rooftop chase of bad guys.

In the first tutorial together, pupils are forced to do introduction exercises, teling the class their name, and telling them a bit about themselves. "My name is Jacob and I like eggs" was the appalling example offered by the form tutor to get the ball rolling.
It did prove to be a bonding experience for the class, in that we bonded by saying "Hello, my name is Jacob and I like eggs" for half an hour.