Um, isn't that Switzerland?

Thanks to Richard Irons, and also lots of other people for sticking their arms rigidly into the air and going 'Ugh..ugh...Mi-isssssssss' like the dirty little keenoes that they fucking are, and saying prcisely the same thing. And then crying when they are passed over, taking breath ONLY to reassure their mums that they DID know the answer and the moderaters 'never' choose THEM. Can I just remind you all that there is a forum for exactly this kind of thing at www.belmsford123.com?

Also I agree with Tony: anything north of Brittany and you're a cowardly, gouda munching, matchwood furniture buying, Abba loving BUMMER. IDST. - Mansh.

Belm back at you all; Sweden maintained an offical position of neutrality in WWII while 'secretly' supporting the Nazis. Tony is thus well within his rights to mock them for not standing up to Adolf when England called.

If any readers are interested, what Sweden did in the War was lay on large quantities of weapons-building grade steel to the Germans, let them use their rail system (at a suitable price) to get their troops into Norway, and swap Reichmarks for ballbearings until Churchill threatened to flatten Stockholm.

By the way, Sven, I've spent five years in your herring-powered country and the reason you never got called gay is because it was so blindingly obvious there was no need. I have yet to meet a Swedish man who possesses even 1% of the masculinity of your average Britt-Marie or Elin. You bunch of emasculated, pale, dickless shadow-men.

I quite like it here really, though, so please don't hit me with your handbag.

Anyone who grows up in a crap town miles from the city will know the excitement of discovering, on a Saturday excursion into Bristol, that some pubs are gay pubs. Pubs for real gay people, to be gay in. We were agog. In the end, we dared Joe to run in, and run out again. Just to see what happened, like. I think we thought it would be something like running into a crowded chicken shed, and Joe would come flying out followed by a burst of feathers, glitter, and a gaggle of irate, clucking homosexual men. This didn't happen. Sadly.

To Gay Bar someone, pin them down and punch them repeatedly in the anus with a big swiging motion of your arm shouting "GAY BAR!"

I can neither confirm nor deny whether such behaviour is widespread in drinking establishments on the other side of the street.

Common currency as an insult from the ages of 11-16. Sometimes lengthened to Gay Barry Bender.

Mnemonic that our music teacher encouraged us to learn for the notes on the lines in the bass clef (GBDFA).

Oh yeah, and, you can remember the strings on a guitar from Every Addict Druggie Gets Busted Eventually. Gareth Bevan swore by Fat Bastard Elephants Always Drink Guinness for the order of flat keys, but then, he was a bit odd.

The objective of this game is simple - to call the other person gay. However, if you are caught off guard, then you will become gay yourself. For example:

Ant: Ben...
Ben: What?
Ant: ...is gay.

Ant may now congratulate himself because he has called Ben gay. Once you have fallen for this, however, there is a counter attack to being called gay.

Ant: Ben...
Ben: Yes, Ant...
Ant: ...Is gay.

At which point, Ben may celebrate his hard-earned victory over Ant, the stupid gay. However, a 'combo-combo' move is available:

Ant: Ben...
Ben: Yes, Ant...
Ant: ...is cool.

The kudos gained from calling yourself cool is somewhat less then calling someone else gay, but at least you’re not gay which, for all intents and purposes is what really counts.

The GAY-me (pronounced game)

A game in which you define how gay someone is by the things that they like. To whit:

"You are so gay, your favourite singer is Marvin GAY-e"., or
"Your favourite programme by Jeremy Beadle is GAY-me For a Laugh.", or
"Your favourite childrens book is Anne of Green GAY-bles.", or
"Your favourite song is I Will Survive by Gloria GAY-nor."

Repeat until you run out of examples. So far I have 17. The most beautiful thing about this game is when someone gets over-excited and accidentally says something that a gay person might actually like, for example "Your favourite magazine is GAY Times*. Oh, hang on..."

(*All gay people like the Gay Times, by the way. It's their favourite.)

If anyone tries a trick or Catch-22 against you, use the all-purpose comeback, "is that gay humour? I don't understand it because I'm not gay, but you seem to find it amusing enough."

"If a gay jumped on your back................would you let him stay or pull him off?"

"if you accidentally walked into a gay club.... would you feel a dick?"

Deliberate mispronunciation of Guy Roper. Bonus points were awarded for calling him this to his face, which didn't happen very often, as he was more than capable of beating the shit out of me and all my mates.

Shower cubicles which have a shower curtain rather than a door to protect the modesty of the showeree, in theory favoured by those hoping to trade glances down the side of the curtain.

Typical application:

'[n], why don't you use the gay showers?'
'Because they're gay.'

One of our school bullies used to walk around the changing room wearing only a towel. He would order you to look at him, whereupon he would open the towel and expose himself to you.

He would then (after putting some clothes on) beat you up for being 'gay'.

This sounds perfectly reasonable to me. Gaymo.

Mr Prenderghast was our teacher of history in year 9. He was a twat and he looked like Uncle Fester from the Addams Family. One day saw him running out of the classroom after receiving the news that his 'wife' had just miscarried his baby and he never came back.

But we were able to catch up with him via an article in Now! magazine about how he and his boyfriend had got two lesbians pregnant with turkey basters, the baby had died, but they had made another through the same method, and now they were proud fathers of a son.

Well; when I say 'catch up with', I mean 'be revolted by'.

In the view of our woodwork (Design/Technology, if you must) teacher, the activity definitional of homosexuality; much more so than the rubbing together of four balls and two dicks.

Mr Hardy: "Where have those two boys gone?"
Mr Laurel: "They're both in the storeroom."
Mr Hardy: "Humph. Reading the Gay Times, I expect."

All of the trays in our canteen were dark brown wood except one, which was still brown, but slightly lighter. This was the gay tray, and if it was top of the pile when you came to the stack, you were obliged to use it. This usually meant losing your dinner, as you would be decked (qv). Taking the normal, presumably straight, tray from underneath it was even worse. You were then "gay scared" (a kind of state of beyond gayness) and got a beating behind the stage curtains. One boy got set up with the gay tray every day for a week, until he was caught throwing it into the skip during break. The preferred interpretation of this was that he was on a secret date with the gay tray. So; "Gay Paul Clay With the gay tray Sticks it up his bum Then he bums his mum"

Funnily enough, an identical set of circumstances occurred at our school - only a strange transformation would occur with the role of the tray as you progressed through your school career. In the junior half of the school the rarity value of the sole light tray held a certain cache. However, once you'd reached the senior school, the terrible truth about the gay tray and the effects it wraught upon the carrier became known to all and sundry. Memories of the remarkably violent fights that used to break out as people were pushed to the front of the queue in order to be the day's gay tray bearer still bring a smile to my face. Could the differing views of the junior and senior pupils be a 'To Kill a Mockingbird'-esque metaphor for the acceptance and tolerance of an innocent mind? Who knows?