“Isn’t it great that we live in the Bay Area?” “Yes, it is, isn’t it? Look at the sun setting over the fog-enveloped bridge” “Look at Mt. Tam!” “Look at that multi-racial lesbian couple doing tai-chi!” “Look at those guys in assless chaps!” “Yes, it’s all so wonderful, I can barely drink my Fair-Trade soy latte with shavings of sustainably grown chocolate mejicano without crying!” “Uh Oh, I think we have bayarrhea!” “What are you a war-mongering, baby seal clubbing, conservative or something!?”
A condition in which feces are discharged from the bowels frequently and in liquid form. Said feces smell of beer and is brought on from drinking way to much beer the night before. Is usually accompanied by a hangover.
Yo brah ... after drinkingall that PBR last night, I've got a bad case of beerarrhea this morning.
When a group of San Franciscans get together to congratulate themselves on how proud they are to live in the best place on Earth. Bayarrhea often occurs when people need reassurance of their decision to live in the Bay Area, as most people (at least before the Internet boom) did not move there for work, but rather just because of the appealing lifestyle.
Bayarrhea can be illustrated through the following converstion: "Isn't it great that we live in the Bay Area?" "Yes, it is, isn't it? Look at the sun setting over the fog-enveloped bridge." "Look at Mt. Tam!" "Look at that multi-racial lesbian couple doing tai-chi!" "Look at those guys in assless chaps!" "Yes, it's all so wonderful, I can barely drink my Fair-Trade soy latte with shavings of sustainably grown chocolate mejicano without crying!"
The ankle deep mud that inevitably forms all around a small farm in Manchester, TN, in mid June every year, during the best ever recurring music festival, bonnaroo.
Woah Brah! Watch out for that giant pool of bonnarrhea, it's at least a foot deep. Let's go get a heady veggie falafel wrap.
Fallout resulting from Bonnaroovian bacchanalia. Whether it's a mysterious rash or just a temporarily wrecked GI tract, below-the-belt souvenirs remind us that not everything that happens at Bonnaroo stays at Bonnaroo.
Ugh, I'm Spring Broken; I think I got Bonnarrhea. From what I hope was a girl.
When you're on five psychedelics
And your bowels just feel like hell, it's
Bonnarrhea! Bonnarrhea!