Part of the increasing efforts to render teachers impotent. If a teacher were to lay even a single finger on any person in the class this would be met with a chant of "G.B.H., G.B.H., G.B.H." by the pupils, each letter punctuated with both fists banged onto the desk. Hopefully, the repetitive mantra-aspect of the chant (not to mention the mob rule aspect) would worm its way into the teacher's confidence, and make them panic. One famous and long-lasting rendition of this 'anthem' was when our Geography teacher, 'Clicker' Clark, grabbed my arm and punched me in the back. I probably deserved it.

It stands for greasy bum sex, but when you ask someone whether they like G.B.S., they don't know that. You should not tell them this until they have openly said that they like G.B.S. in front of many people. Including their parents, who will be shocked and disappointed at their son's hitherto undiscovered fetish.

also gay butt sex

Adjective used to describe a bad situation.

"That is one fucking ton of g.b.s." - Charles de Gaulle, on hearing that Maréchal Pétain had signed an armistice with the Nazis, leading to the creation of the Vichy regime.

At primary school there was a boy called Tom who had orange wee. During toilet breaks, we'd line up at the trough-style urinal with Tom at one end and the rest of us at the other. The idea of the game was to repel Tom's orange wee with normal yellow piss for as long as possible. The game ended when Tom declared that his mum had taken him to see the doctor and he wouldn't be pissing orange any more.

Here's another GWNN example, but not nearly as fun. Or, indeed, clever.

Kid A: What's your favourite animal?

Kid B: Leopard.

A: What's your favourite colour?

B: Green.

A: What's your favourite number?

B: Six.

A: I've never seen a green leopard with six legs!

Flawed, because as soon as someone had done it to you once, you could say dog, black, four to the next person, leaving them powerless to do anything but dither and say 'ermm...'

Not played beyond the age of 6.

One particularly bored lunchbreak a gang war broke out. One of the school wags had stolen a box of chip forks (the pointless little wooden chip eating implements), and after a football-match-based-argument, the said pupil formed a gang called the Chip forks (I was Chip fork number 9). His rival, not to be out done, formed a gang called the Hoopies (I don't know why they were called this). Hoopies would catch Chip forks and draw large H's on their foreheads with the indelible markers. Eventually, over a number of days, the whole school became divided into Chipforks and Hoopies, and registration after lunch was brightened with the sight of a sea of Blue H's on foreheads (long before Red Dwarf existed). Great days...

Mid-80,s sticker craze featuring Chuckie-looking 'kids' with punny names, e.g. 'Electric Bill' was a kid in prison clothes being zapped on an electric chair. Each person had a GPK equivalent. I was Cheeky Charles because I had a fat face, so people would come up to me and puff out their cheeks. Being 'Shorn Sean' (bloodied face, oozing spots) led to your face being scraped with a ruler. They were eventually banned from my Catholic school as it was decided they were Satanic in origin.

A little-known martial art involving combat with the gardening implements in Ross's garage. The higher belts could only be achieved by hitting Martin Phillips with a spade.

Plagued by rumours of an illicit affair with the rowing coach, this fat sod extraordinaire had in fact taken offence at being called "soft" (which he was, in great quantities) and successfully petitioned to get his rowing coach fired.

This resulted in the increase of the frequency and vehemence with which "SOFT COCK!" was screamed in his flabby face.

"Hard" for your rowing coach or a big soft poof to your peers? What a fantastic Catch-22.

Mums! Looking to traumatise an entire coach-load of schoolchildren on a school trip? Want to ensure that your child will be stigmatised and shunned for the remainder of their school career? May I suggest that you provide a packed lunch containing a garlic sausage and Branston pickle sandwich?

It really works! Your child will be socially fucked for weeks!

You'll be the school weirdo for years not weeks when you go on a 'Schools Abroad' trip and discover your mum's packed three unisex disposable plastic pants "just in case".

Short for Gary-Baldi. An insult directed at anyone who either through hard evidence or simple malicious rumour was judged to be devoid of pubes. Accompanied by tight mouthed squeaking noises like those you would get if you rubbed a spotless plate.

If Gary should ask who your favourite Premiership footballer is you should unhesitatingly reply 'Steve Bould'.

Scrawled into the desk at which I sat my Italian GCSE, worn and faded with time but still legible, was the legend 'Gary Lineker makes my tits erect'. I have never been able to fully appreciate why this might have been.

The game whereby you kick the crap anyone in your school yard upon the sighting of a gas van. The only protection from a gas van attack is to shout "Gas Van no rebounds" loud enough that enough people hear you. Gas van drivers probably have quite a pessimistic view of children’s behaviour, seeing more than their fair share of mindless violence.

Gavin Jones' Dad was a handicapped. His eyes didn't work and he had to be led everywhere by Guide Dog. Some of the more gossipy 3rd years had already started rumours about Gavin's dad's relationship with his four-legged friend, when, one Parents Evening, those rumours were given a massive boost of credibility.

Being next to each other in the register meant Gavin and I had adjacent time slots that fateful evening. Nervous with anticipation about my forthcoming report I'd headed off to the toilet. Pissing roughly in the direction of the urinal was Gavin's dad. Sitting faithfully by his side, lapping gently at the golden stream and the contents of the ceramic bowl was his dog. Gavin's Dad's dog was drinking his piss.

Looking back at the incident now, I think I'm fully justified in my telling everyone I could that not only did Gavin's Dad's dog drink Gavin's Dad's piss, he was actually sucking him off in the toilets.

I was justified, wasn't I? The filthy, dog-bothering pervert.

Gay just means stupid - there never seemed to be any real implication that you were actually gay if someone called you gay. Pete Beal's Banana Bowl was another matter.

Teacher : What is the capital of France?

Elaine : Is it Calais sir?

Darren : Sir, Elaine's being gay!

Well yeah, but gay also means like, noncey or twat-tacular, or wanky, or nobalike. Anything irritating is gay as well. Oh, and saying "your mum" is gay.

After having discovered your site today and wasted most of it reading entries (on company time) I can only conclude British kids are suspiciously preoccupied with gayness. Little closet faggots, all of you, eh?

In my country (Sweden) we were never called "gay" just for being athletically challenged, interested in arts or books, or generally not fitting in. They beat us up, don't get me wrong - they just didn't call us gay while they did it.

(Two things, anonymous gay Swede; the fact we talk about it means that we're not scared of gayness. It's you lot, the Swedes, who are gay-scared, and that means you're super-gay. Arguing with the logic of this only makes you gayer, so just shut up, bend over and take one from big butch Denmark.

Secondly, the reason this website has a lot of gay references in it is that I'm a gay, and I'm pushing my agenda with a view to attracting burly doormen. Are you a burly doorman? If so, please get in touch. I'm Log, and I'll do anything for Dairylea.)

Perhaps our anonymous Swede would care to enlighten us as to what transpired in the gay-free playgrounds of Sweden when someone suggested a game of "war"? I can only assume they put all their pocket money in a pile on the ground and sat on it with their heads hidden under their parka hoods until it was all over - just like in real life!

Très drôle, Tony. Très drôle. - Phil