The Beer Shit is a phenomenon that occurs the day after a particularly heavy drinking session. Students are particularly vulnerable.
The 'victim' awakens and spends the first few minutes in a daze, trying desperately to remember where they were last night, when they came back, who they came back with and how they managed to take their jeans off and climb into bed the wrong way round without taking their shoes off. The 'victim' then becomes aware of the irresistable urge to empty their bowels. This process is known as the 'Beer Shit'.
It is not unusual for the Beer Shit to be stubborn and to insist that the 'victim' empties their bowels at least three times during that day in order to complete the job. The amount of toilet paper required to clean up after each 'mini-Beer Shit' is substantial, as is the stench that fills the house afterwards.
However, once a particularly nasty Beer Shit has been despensed with, the 'victim' feels infinitely better immediately and is ready to commence alcoholic consumption straight away to start the process again.
Derek's drinking exploits last night lead to a particularly nasty Beer Shit emerging from his rectal passage this morning.
A sentence used to really confuse cold callers
Caller: "Hello, I'm calling from Coldseal Windows. Can I interest you in a new conservatory?"
Callee: "Wibble wibble"
Caller: "....excuse me? I.."
Callee: "WIBBLE WIBBLE! Duh!"
Lancashire seaside town, totally devoid of all features usually associated with seaside towns, such as amusement arcades, little shops selling tat, chip shops, hotels, beaches and, er, tourists. Apart from the occasional mass-drowning, nothing ever happens here.
Person 1: Shall we go to Morecambe?
Person 2: No, shall we stay here and eat our own feet instead?
Located in Loughborough, north Leicestershire, Pulse is the only nightclub in the country that provides a creche so that all its underage single chav teenage mums (a.k.a. the customers) have somewhere for their kids to be looked after while they look for another chav to impregnate them.
Chav 1: Am goin Pulse tonight.
Chav 2: Init. Man.
A word used by physicists when no other word will do.
God does not play dice. Rotododo.
A nationwide chain of nightclubs, playing dodgy eighties cheese music. Full of a strange mix of mutton dressed as lamb and 15 year olds on their first ever night out, with no one in between.
Person 1: It's my 50th birthday party tonight.
Person 2: Great, let's all go to Zanzibar and pretend we still have it.