Meanwhile tonight, back in the smoking shed at my local (a great source for this sort of stuff)
Two women.
1) "I'm going to see the doctor about my tittyness"
2) "Yer wot?"
1) "Tittyness. You know, ringin' in me ears"
2) "Oh yeah. Tittyness" (Sups beer)
Exit Basil, struggling to keep it together. 
That's on a par with what we overheard in a gastropub (the one at Tanworth, you'll know it Basil) - he took a booking on the phone and then said to the chef, who happened to be in the bar:
Boss : "Booking for 4 tonight, one of them is wheat intolerant .... "
Ched : "Ah, OK I know about that, that'll be a celeriac"
We fell about, roaring with laughter having overheard this exchange - the sad thing is that we had to explain to the boss (when he asked what we were laughing at) that the chef really meant coeliac.
Rob