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Oh this lot (Picture: Liberty Antonia Sadler for Metro.co.uk)

This weekend millions of us will do the upstanding British thing and drink until we’re pricks.

At the pub – Britain’s hallowed, sticky-carpeted crucible – we all express our quintessential anglo-saxon traits.

Low-key alcoholism. Mediocre flirting. Thrilling at the likely prospect of a bloody punch-up.

But even as we do, let’s take a moment to celebrate our proud nation’s versatile bellend community.


Including – but certainly not limited to…

The fruit machine addict

This aspiring rocket scientist is confident he’ll win a fortune off a device mechanically calibrated to fleece drunk men.

He feels certain his old pal ‘neon Noel Edmonds’ will bestow fabulous riches upon him.



The dictionary definition of a moron.

The football bore

Goals (Picture: Getty)

Tranmere Rovers just fluffed a last-minute corner against Halifax Town, which somehow validates his incomprehensible accumulator bet.

He’ll insist, oblivious to groans, that the volume on the telly be cranked up.

Pity his wife as she sucks poignantly on her fifth G and T.

The sleazebag

They can be girls too (Picture: Getty)

Ever ready to exploit alcohol’s time-tested reputation as makeshift cupid.

Give him or her (usually him) the cold shoulder by patiently explaining you’re ‘spoken for’.

Or, if he’s hot, then by all means marinade your junk with salty abandon.

The fag blagger

Get your own (Picture: Getty)

Either smoke, or don’t smoke, love.

And no, I most certainly won’t roll you one.

Money, like cancer, doesn’t grow on trees.

The Begbie

That psychopath from Trainspotting, you know him.

Easy to spot, impossible to ignore, shirtless while in heat.

Avoid eye contact – he genuinely means to kill you.

The cokehead

Sniffy (Picture: Erin Aniker for Metro.co.uk)

Occasionally a sly sliver of chang is appropriate.

Riding on a yacht, say, with Cara Delevigne.

In a Vegas hotel with Bruno Mars and the sulky one-off Twilight.

Just not with a rolled-up receipt off a Samsung Galaxy in the disabled cubicle.

Yes, you.

He who cannot hold his ale

Shots fired (Picture: Getty)

You are a sorry piece of human wreckage who will never, ever learn your lesson – however many times you twat your head on the kerb.

Pick another hobby.

Like cycling or backgammon or sorting your chuffing life out.

That guy with his dick out

There’s always one (Picture: Getty)

Ha. Ha. Ha.

Articulately challenging the boundaries of bourgeois discourse, like some outre, sex-offending genius.

How about I blow you – then bite it clean off?

The shirty old local

Hospitality (Picture: Getty)

Pardon me for subsidising your grim boozer, you old wanker.

Yes, I’m sitting on your stool, sneering at your moribund selection of ales and paltry dearth of snacks.

You’ll probably be dead soon.

Drink up.

MORE: 11 surprising facts about the history of beer

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