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This is a question The passive-aggressive guilt trip

My mother is an expert in the guilt-trip. Last week she phoned to say "Happy Birthday" and, after a 10 minute conversation, finished with, "Well, I hope you have a nicer time than I did on the day you were born."

She also stated that she was going to kill herself when she reached 65. On Christmas Day morning. Having rung up to see if there was anything she could bring for lunch.

I think it's just a mother thing, but how good are your relatives and friends at the passive-aggessive?

(, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 9:52)
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I'm bad, I'm bad and I know it.
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I remember way back in the mid 1980's I had had quite a fair quantity to drink in my local pub and some friends decided to shave half my head and one eyebrow after I had passed out. The following day, I had no alternative but to shave the other half off, which I did.
I decided not to go back to the same pub for a while, at least until my eyebrows had grown back a bit and I had some hair on my head, so that evening I decided to visit a pub I had not been in for sometime. As soon as I walked in, I remembered why. It was full of arseholes. The moment I entered the bar, the chief arsehole, whose name was Neil laid in with the first insult, "Fuck me, look at you, had an argument with a lawn mower?", he snorted followed by a far to loud a laugh to accompany such a pathetic joke. How original I thought. Neil kept on and on and on, insult after insult to the point where I almost decked him until I heard him ask, "..so where did you get it cut then, the council?" He laughed out loud even more and had not noticed that the rest of the bar had spotted that I had begun to get a tad pissed off, and they knew that as an ex special services officer, recently returned from the Falklands War, if I did hit him, it wouldn't be too pretty.
At this point an evil thought came to mind. I turned towards him, I could feel the tension in the air, everyone thought I was going to kick off and it all went very quiet. Neil himself suddenly realised he might be in for some hospital food and he shut up. I staired him right in the face and aseritvely replied, "Well actually, cunt, have you ever heard of chaemotherapy?"
With this he looked as guilty as if he had just run over a child in a stolen 4X4 with big fuck-off bull-bars, and he left the pub very quickly. Everone else went even quieter until I turned around and winked at them and murmered, "Stupid bastard". The place erupted with laughter and nothing more was said.
Will I go to Hell for this?
As if I fucking care!

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(, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 16:20, closed)

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