University of Wales, Aberystwyth
This is a little known fact among the heaps of myths about Wales. Not a country of sheep-shaggers are we, not content with our rugby-playing depression nor our 264:1 consonant to vowel ration. We have a far deeper secret lying nestled amongst the slate mines of Western Ceredigion, where men are men, women are women, and no-one's quite sure about the children.

In Aberystwyth, a peaceful town lapped by the gentle waves of the Irish sea, a coil of smoke spread out from beneath a door. Behind the door , a maniacal glee could be heard as of one who has reached a goal after long and hard research including more than a few third-degree lovehandle burns. The smoke spread slowly through the town, mingling with the morning mist. At every door or passerby, a smaller tendril split off and entered every house or the lungs of every young person it encountered.

Time passed. Not years, or months, or weeks but a single day. Friday. As is the wont of certain enlightened human beings of which Aberystwyth houses many, many students headed to that high-point of their social interaction locales, the pub. Hours passed with the habitual procedure of downing pints, wagging or snogging tongues and friendly chatter. Yet, over time, more and more bartenders began noticing something strange.

As if in a fairytale, the students, that species most reputed for inebriation as a hobby, were still standing. The townies, that local bunch of chavtastic neanderthals, were long departed to their beds beneath the table of in their Micras. Yet, the students plied on into the night, not a single drop of alcohol going to their heads. Beer, spirits, absinth, moonshine, nothing could be done. Eventually, their money ran dry and the students returned to their dorms, not a one of them waking hungover.

The mist had done its work. From now on, the University of Wales, Aberystwyth, would forever be known as the.......Beerstud College.

First post in 3 years, totally worth it.
(chrisdalby, Wed 30 Jan 2008, 8:09, 6 replies)

Haha
it worked, knew you couldn't tell the difference between beer and Kaliber
(Ol' Ginger Bastard a role model for the children, Wed 30 Jan 2008, 8:41, closed)

Kaliber?
Please enlighten me for I know not this Kaliber?
(chrisdalby, Wed 30 Jan 2008, 8:45, closed)

Imagine
if Bjork moved to Wales.

That would be an accent.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Wed 30 Jan 2008, 8:51, closed)

So basically...
...with that long winded faux lit story, you're saying that students in Aberystwyth can hold their beer?

Two points:
- What does this have to do with 'bastard colleagues'?
- I know someone at Aberystwyth University, and he's a cunt who passes out after one shot of Sambuca.
(helmsdeep, Wed 30 Jan 2008, 9:03, closed)

Oh.
I've just scrolled down and seen all those pisspoor puns about bastard colleagues.

*depressed*
(helmsdeep, Wed 30 Jan 2008, 9:05, closed)

Aberystwyth
I went to University there, top notch place! Have a click for mentioning the town that I still love.
(Potty Jag har smör i min rumpspringa, Thu 31 Jan 2008, 7:50, closed)