I shared a bottle of something crisp and cold and flinty this evening with an attractive young woman who teaches in one of our abysmal State schools in London. Teachers are nothing if not inventive, and in response to the new government performance indicators that penalise them for expelling kids - or excluding them, in the weasel words of Zanu Labour's State - they have invented something called 'managed moves'.
It goes something like this, apparently. Headmaster A calls neighbouring Headmaster B.
"I've got one this week. Not a bad lad, but he wanks in class when he's bored, which is most of the time, to be honest. Got anyone you want to swap?"
"Yep. Yours is a Victorian school, isn't it? Brick and slate and glass?"
"I've got an arsonist for you. Bright little bugger, just sets fire to his classrooms. We're all 1970s prefab here. Lost the Art Room last week. Fancy him?"
"Yeah, OK. The wanking's getting too much here."