Not the nicest thing I've ever done...
I've only ever had to really dump someone once and it was appalling!

We'd been seeing each other in my home city for a bout 8 months and then he had to go back home to his home city as he'd been in uni and was finished with his degree. I decided (in my naivety) to see if I could get a job there and so carry on the relationship. God knows why though, he was the messiest hygiene objector ever, wore shoelaces wrapped round his wrists that smelled like wet dog when water got on them and every one of his white shirts had a grey tide mark on it.. ICK!

After about two weeks of looking I found a job in a hospital that offered nurses halls accommodation in the city centre. So I took it up and set a date to move.

Then when I moved to the city and settled the guy changed completely. Became very clingy and got in a huff cos he couldn't stay over (strict rules in my halls and it was £160 a month - didn't wanna take the piss, also he lived MILES away in the stix) so much so I decided to end it. This took a while because I'd obviously just moved to be with him and didn't really know anyone else much.

So I sat him down for "the talk" he cries and he wails and in the end I get the porter to escort/drag him out. Thinking thats that...

OH NO

Over the next few days he calls constantly, the usual. Turns up at work and my halls as well. Generally stalk-a-licious crap!

During this pleasant interlude I'm calling him and emailing telling him to leave me be and so forth... then ignoring it all... I tried it all!

Eventually I gave in and took him back.

Then took him back to mine.. undressed him and told him he actually repulsed me physically. threw his clothes out of my 6th floor window and told him to leave me the hell alone or I'd get a restraining order.

He finally got the message when he turned up to a club I was at and busted me with another guy.. only after starting on the guy and the guy kicking my ex's ass...

I see him from time to time now and he's so bitter you could squeeze him into a good G&T which is incidentally what I need every time I run into him!

Apologies for length - still new to this and need practice at making it shorter!
(miss.spanky.pants .. is looking for a handsome prince..., Thu 12 Jun 2008, 10:43, Reply)

THuresday time
I was once so desperate to get rid of someone that I set fire to a server station in Texas.

Regards, B3ta server...people...

(I didn't think this through....I need coffee)
(Teran Thinks Pogonophobia is funny, Thu 12 Jun 2008, 10:18, Reply)

Seeing as its Thursday and we're waiting for the QOTW to change.
Talk about your biggest dump here in this filthy thread :)
(Miggyman, Thu 12 Jun 2008, 10:00, 16 replies)

I Think
.
My new cat is trying to get dumped. She's getting us into trouble with the neighbours. This is what I've just posted on the communal laundry door.

Warning! – Thief In The Area!

Well, cat-burglar to be exact.

I’m afraid our new kitten, Meep, has taken to raiding the laundry shed and stealing socks. Nothing else, just socks. Then she proudly brings them home to me and I return them.

So, if you find that you’re missing more socks than usual, then it’s probably Miss Meep The Cat Burglar to blame. As soon as we find them we return them so you should only be sockless for a couple of hours.

I’ve tried closing the door to the laundry room but I’m afraid she can still sneak under the door. She’s very determined.

We’ve tried talking to her, even threatened to ground her, but she just doesn’t listen. So we’ve decided to feed her up until she’s too fat to get under the door and then your socks will be safe. Until then, there’s a couple of things you can do.

1) Try to make sure your socks aren’t on show.
2) Try to make sure they aren’t balled up – she almost always goes for rolled up socks and not floppy ones.

We apologise for causing all this trouble and we’ll try to break her of this habit as soon as we can. We can only ask for your understanding and blame this on the fact that Meep was abandoned as a kitten and had to feed herself by catching wild socks.

I blame the parents.

Joe at number 4
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Thu 12 Jun 2008, 9:15, 15 replies)

Seeing as it's Thursday morning
and also because I'm surprised no-one has posted this yet:

What the the cannibal do after he dumped his girlfriend?

Wiped his arse.

*hides*
( K2k6 has a proper job these days, Thu 12 Jun 2008, 9:06, 1 reply)

I think it's about time
we dumped this QOTW.
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Thu 12 Jun 2008, 8:48, 113 replies)

Deep shame and frustration
Does it count as dumping when being a straight chap like myself, your vibrator, shoved up your bum runs out of batteries as youre seconds away from throwing your ballpaper paste? i wish i was joking.
(biscuit bill, Thu 12 Jun 2008, 7:27, Reply)

help please
I just put up a profile on hot or not and would like to know how to join the b3tard hot or not list thingy.

Legless reminded me.

thanks

EDIT: all fixed now, thanks Legless
(misskitty reeks of sex and turpentine; laudanum afternoons, Thu 12 Jun 2008, 4:31, 6 replies)

I've only been dumped once
I was 15, he was my first boyfriend and my first kiss.

He was at lease a foot shorter than me, wore white pants with a redback spider print on them and went to church. I could pick him up by his ankles and hang him upsidedown.

Needless to say I wasn't hopelessly in love with him, but he was the first boy to ever want to kiss me, so therein lay the attraction.

After about 4 or 5 months of "going out", which consisted of seeing each other about once a month, kissing like it was going out of fashion and me refusing to suck his dick or be fucked by him, he dumped me. By phone.

To my everlasting glory, he cried and I did not. He didn't want to hurt me and I didn't care. (In any case I'd alredy seen the future Mr Kitty and was besotted)

Then, five years later, he died. He committed suicide exactly 5 years after we broke up, to the day. Once again proving that Mr Kitty really is my soulmate, as he is the only boy that I've kissed that hasn't died.

(BTW, my running total is 3 dead of 3 kissed before Mr Kitty, only works with boys for some reason)
(misskitty reeks of sex and turpentine; laudanum afternoons, Thu 12 Jun 2008, 4:20, 2 replies)

"i'm not even sorry"
it's funny the things we'll do to make ourselves not feel like total c-nuts.

But in the end, it doesn't matter how you set it up to fall apart - your true feelings will be expressed.

She happened to be a love of mine, and she was going to be the one i would spend the rest of my life (thanks, you selfish self-centred cuntdamn whore). But that disastrous breakup is for another QOTW, and all that is important is that i was leaving a steady 4 year relationship for that one.

So, in leaving my then girlfriend i began a gradual stepback initiative, which sparked off in a way Rube Goldberg would be impressed.

I reclaimed money i was owed.
I quietly removed my stuff from her house.
I became passive aggressive.
I became distant and disconcerting.
I began to not text back.
I began to not pick up the phone.
I made plans without her.
I went on holiday without telling her.
I generally encouraged my friends to cold-shoulder her.

Eventually, things came to a head. And she started the conversation in the pub. I knocked back my scotch (and a Tomatin 12 at that) and we walked home.

I told her we'd grown apart. It was me, not her. We just weren't meant for each other.

And after all hints, she still bothered me. Cried a little. And i lost the rag.

"I'm not even sorry. I've never loved you."

Her innocence shed the moment i said that; she turned on heel and slammed the door. We haven't spoken for 2 years.

And now? Karma has a way of having the last laugh. I'm losing the girl that's making my life worthwhile in the same bloody way. Such is life, i suppose.
(Schumann makes awesome quiches., Thu 12 Jun 2008, 2:13, Reply)

Eeeeeeeemoooooooooooo...
In my defense I have just got in from the pub. Also my cat is interfering with my keyboard.

Anyways, stream of consciousness nonsense will ensue:

My one significant relationship lasted six years, and most of it was pretty awesome. Towards the end things started going tits up, and I seriously considered trying to instigate my own dumping, but when it came down to it I loved her and she deserved my honesty. The things I said prompted her to go for counselling, from which she returned with the opinion that I was "a useless fucking waste of space"*, so that worked out well. If I had the chance I'd do it exactly the same though, as she remains one of my best friends.

Since then, however, I've discovered how easy it is to be cunt. Not too long ago I hooked up with a stunning young lady, but for various reasons things were not going to last. When we got together she was intending to move fairly far away, and I was expecting things to fizzle out when she did - she had different ideas however. I was pretty keen (although sadly not quite keen enough) and didn't want to hurt her, so I was congratulating myself on my technically-true-but-actually-misleading answers to her questions - Do you want to see me next time I'm in London? Of course I do! I like you a lot... Worst of all, after not seeing her for several months and not speaking to her for several weeks, she caught up with me just before Christmas and asked me flat out where I saw us going - and I pitched an emo fit. We still talk, but not often, and I know she deserved a hell of a lot better from me.

When I started this post there was a point, but I'm fucked if I can remember it now. Sorry 'bout that.

*May not be a direct quote.
(wellgroomedwookiee is a filthy-minded hobgoblin, Thu 12 Jun 2008, 0:31, Reply)

It worked for me....
Vimes: "Do you know that I've worked out who you remind me of?"
Her: "No! Do tell me. Is it Claudia Schiffer?"
Vimes: "no. My sister."

It works every time too! (Unless you live in Norfolk, then you're fucked. Literally.)
(CdrVimes, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 23:25, Reply)

I've never found it hard to get dumped.
The old advice seems to work the best.
"Be yourself" is what your parents always say...

I did that, and I was dumped quicker that a bowl of branflakes after a packet of laxatives.

*waits for the inevitable slew of night crew responses*
( Cawl, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 22:04, 172 replies)

Oh dear.
To get someone to stop asking me out (I still feel bad for this) I told them I was a HEROIN ADDICT!

This guy was very religious muslim as well, who didn't drink alcohol let alone class A drugs...

... so I followed that up with I was head over heels in love with drugs and no person could ever hope to compare to the "high" I even went as far as to say that I knew I could trust him not to see me differently due to my "drug struggle" and that I was "on the wagon now" and couldn't wait to meet his family who I was "sure would be accepting of me"! (That and my so-called bisexuality came into the conversation, that and the "voices" I heard in my head on a daily basis yelling at me to do things...)

I couldn't stop. I wanted this guy out of the picture and still remember him looking very appalled and edging away...

It worked, he fucked right off. Refuses to talk to me now.
(trippeh, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 20:59, 2 replies)

one girl springs to mind
it was meant to be just a shag, a one night only affair. but she didnt see it like that

a night of rough outdoor sex (she was good though) then walking 4 miles to my mates house for more booze, then back for more outdoor sex (which i turned down, brewers droop and heavy moshing dont help).
resulted in said girl thinking i was marrying her for "using her" (as i recall she was the one who unbuttoned me)
and treating her disrepectfully.

luckilly new girl (called DD)was on the scene the day after.

it took 4 weeks to sort but eventually she thought i was boinking DD, which never happened but she liked getting caught out

she still stalks me on the odd occasions and tries to add me to her facebook and even found my old house address and mobile number on my websites whois entry

i am guesing she still has as montage of me up in her bedroom walls
( hooker1uk Filth monger of the lowest degree!, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 20:39, 1 reply)

A bit naughty
I went out with this girl, shagged her after 2 days then got bored. She was into self harm and stuff, so rather than lower her confidence I said I was gay.

Next week she saw me in a graveyard with another girl, hiding underneath one of those tye dyed sheets.

Being the confident young squeak I was I didn't care if people thought I was gay or not. I didn't expect some people to still believe it 4 years later though.
(djflayva, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 19:32, Reply)

I got dumped last night,

(Belgaer is, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 19:15, 8 replies)

A Flatliner
Oh, woe me, the pain of being horribly mistaken in a person's ulterior motives, for I can only guess what was going on in her mind.

Let's flashback to a long time ago. (actually, a few weeks, but I'm getting off topic here)

My fiancee lives in England, I live in the Netherlands, now I have heard all the arguments against a long distance relationship but I believed in it, I really did, or do. Nevertheless, let's get on with the story.

So she told me she was going to the hospital because she had a hole in her heart, you know the kind where blood can flow between the Atrium and the Ventricle, obviously in the wrong direction.

She told me she would be okay, but only after I asked her to promise that to me. And she did.

Two agonizing weeks passed, I was unaware of what had happened, whether she was alive or dead, her phone didn't ring, my mails were left unanswered, until one day, when her phone rang again. I was relieved, it was a sign that she had survived. So I tried ringing her until somebody would pick up.

Somebody picked up, this somebody being her ex, who told me that my fiancee didn't want to talk to me.

After the rumour mill got wind of this, pieces of the puzzle started pouring in, and only now am I becoming aware that she was engaged to her ex while also being engaged to me, and I have come to believe that this hospital visit was nothing more than a way to get rid of me.

So yeah, faking a possibly fatal heart condition to get out of a situation... Ouch.

Oh, and this is my first post, please be gentle.
(Almar wonders what will go wrong this week, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 19:06, 7 replies)

How can the same sh*t happen to the same guy twice?
Years ago my first ever serious relationship ended when my ex moved to Spain. We'd been seeing each other for about four years and agreed that when she moved out there we'd carry on seeing each other. She was only going for a year so we reckoned it was do-able. After a few months of going out to Madrid she invited me out to see her only to dump me on the first night. And then tell me I could stay four the rest of the week we'd originally planned if I slept on the spare mattress next to her bed. I was on the very next flight home.

A few years ago a Slovak girl I'd been seeing for about six months invited me out to Bratislava and did exactly the same.

*facepalms*
(Crowtyboy, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 18:12, 1 reply)

Newsletter
Well, my boyfriend got a message put in the b3ta newsletter, and it worked :)
(Vic The Raccoon, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 17:57, 1 reply)

London, you're dumped.
London, it is so over between us. You used to be exotic and alluring, with the bright lights, clubs and concerts. Then I got to know you a bit better, and realised that it wasn't always this good. Since then, our relationship has been going downhill; I'm struggling to remember the good times, and only seem able to focus on the crime, local chav community, awful pollution and traffic, and sheer expense of being with you.

My house has been broken into, my computer stolen, my friends attacked, my bank account raped and my health damaged.

I'll probably regret what I'm doing a bit, and miss you at first, but I'm utterly convinced that in the long run, this is the right course to take.

I'm sorry to put you through this, but you'll be alright. You'll cope without me; you always have. Some new girl will come along with the joy of moving to the big city in her eyes, and you'll have good times with her instead of me. Honestly, I don't mind.

I think I've always known that things were a bit wrong, but this feeling of discontent has been growing within me for quite a long time. I think it all came to a head this week, when some spotty little oik tried to steal my bike from Victoria Station (and do Network Rail give a toss? Do they my arse), I developed a heinous mouth/throat infection due to cycling in traffic fumes every day, and I saw the crazy Kennington man this afternoon, sitting outside of the cafe with his cock hanging out.

To be honest though, these are all small things. Insignificant compared to the most important reason we can't be together any more. Some mouth-breathing insanity-mongers elected Boris Johnson as Mayor. I can't live with people who think like that. Really I can't.

London, as of now, I am looking for somewhere new to live. We'll see each other again, I have no doubt. But just as friends, for gigs and museums and stuff (you always did get amazing line-ups at gigs). But as we are now, we're finished.

Goodbye.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 17:42, 32 replies)

Update on the nutter I posted about on Sunday
I got a phone call today. She's just had a sprog, and her fella's upped and fucked off, leaving her homeless.

Should I help? In my heart I really want to, but my brain is saying 'No fucking way'.

This is the girl who once smacked herself in the face and then told everyone we were living with that I was beating her because I wouldn't take her to her ex-boyfriend's house party...
(Half of Stephen Fry's right buttock pissed on your dog on, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 17:14, 27 replies)

The photo
A bit off topic, BUT.

I was dumped, after the only time I ever cheated on a girlfriend: I went home with a random girl in a whole different county, safe in the knowledge that this one off bout of the ol' in-out would go undiscovered.

What were the chances of rolling over and seeing a photograph of my girlfriend on random girl's wall.

Old uni friends. Cracking morning that was.
(whitehorse, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 16:23, 7 replies)

I'm too nice.
Every girl I've ever had sex with has been through being in a serious relationship. My friends are on a mission to get me laid one night under the following proposal:

1. The girl isnt paid for or bribed in anyway.
2. I am not to call her the next morning.. or ever again!


1, OK. 2. What?? Arghhhh!!!! How could I do that to someone??!!!!
(Miggyman, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 16:12, 15 replies)

never be dumped...or had to dump someone
never been dumped...never tried to dump...

never been in a relationship to find out...

anyone want to enlighten me...?
--

of course, I didn't mention I'm 32 and gay
(scotsbloke, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 16:05, 11 replies)

Putting the 'Crow' in Croquet...
When I was a Devil going through his late teenage years, I wanted money. No, to be honest I wanted both money and a social life, and the opportunity to talk with pretty girls. So I got myself a job at one of Halstead’s premier drinking establishments, and so began 6 years of working bars the length and breadth of the country. Well, Essex and West Yorkshire, but you get the point.

As I’ve mentioned before, I’m rubbish at approaching women in bars or clubs. But put me behind the pumps and I’m like a different person; I’ll flirt along with the best of them. Occasionally – very occasionally – I would end up trading numbers with girls at the bar, and thenceforth nature would take its course.

One such girl was S. Lovely, she was, if a little Essex. You know: the sovereign ring, the bleached hair, the screeching voice of a harridan. We went on a couple of dates and eventually ended up on my bed having a bit of a kiss and some strictly on-top-of-the-clothes-and-don’t-you-even-think-of-heading-down-there fumbling. After a couple of hours she gets up to leave and I, with blue balls, was left to my own devices. At the door, she turned to me and said, through a cloud of Lambert and Butler:

“I love you.”

Well. Bugger me sideways with a spork. Two dates, a bit of fumbling, and she’s in love with me. I’m good. But raise the alarm. Marshal the troops. Get the big thing that goes “DANGER! DANGER” going. We’re in trouble lads. Phone Houston, let them know. You see, although S was fun, I wasn’t really in to her any more. And, in my 18-year-old wisdom, I thought the best way to let her know this was to behave like I didn’t know any better.

It came around to the following Friday evening. I was working the late shift and, at around 1am, I was doing a glass run. I turned from the bar to find a girl behind me who seemed to be using my leg as a sort of stand in scratching pole. And she had a scratch in her special places, judging by the eagnerness with which she was rubbing it against my thigh. I gave in to temptation. I had a little boogie. And, just as my lips locked with this enigmatic beauty, I saw S.

She stood at the end of the bar, wearing a long black coat, black boots, black trousers and a black top. In short, she looked like the fucking Crow. Her hair hung over her face, and she glowered at me. From where I was, I could actually feel the hatred radiating from her. She turned on her heel, and walked out.

In my (admittedly bastardly) mind, I thought “Mission Accomplished!”, and returned to my work. Two hours later, I had cleaned, locked up and was heading home. Stepping out in to the rain of the early morning, I unlocked my car, clambered in, and started sorting out a CD. Turning on the engine, I flicked on the lights and put the car in gear.

WHAM!

“What the fuckity fuck fuck FUCK?” I screamed. Looking to my left I saw a rain-soaked S, winding up to strike the side panel of my car door with the Croquet Mallet from the games lawn (how very middle class, being attacked by a Croquet Mallet?).

“YOU WHAM BASTARD WHAM !”

In my haste to get out of the car, I’d left it in gear. So, as I kangarooed across the car park, I was pursued by a soaking wet, emotionally unstable girl beating seven shades of shit out of the vehicle. I rammed my foot on the clutch, stopped the car, relocated the gear, floored the accelerator and got the hell out of dodge. Looking in my rear-view mirror, I saw her charge in to the street after me, brandishing the mallet and screaming like a banshee.

(Time for the Moral of The Story. The girl I had kissed on that night was, as it turned out, married. Word got back to her husband of our little kiss, and he paid me a visit a week later. I did escape being put through a leaded window, but did not escape a damned good pasting. I probably got what I deserved though.)
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 15:43, 9 replies)

I've only ever dumped one and she came back
All of the others dumped me.

The first, aged 13 at a party after barely a week of courting. I wept like a little girl and retired to my bedroom to play Queens, 'Just One Year Of Love' over and over again, I think on the 7" flipside of 'Who Wants To Live Forever?" from top 5 movie of all time 'Highlander'.

I retired from the love game for a good few years after that and was 18 or 19 when it started all over again.

Hazel - Irish bird in college - there was a distance issue once we finished college and that was that cos we was po' and couldn't afford to travel.

Sophie, French bird - cheated on her (not really - it was a sneaky drunken snog in a bar) but i told her it was worse to get her to leave me. I dont recall why - she was sweet. I think I was just bored and frisky.

Stephanie - Scottish, left me after three years for a Belgian - A BLOODY BELGIAN!

Niamh - half French/Irish, still my fave. Left me after four volatile years citing lack of committment. She's still a mate. I was at her wedding so you CAN remain friends.

Edel - Irish - decimated me after one year. I was at the low point of a long therapeutic process and simply couldnt cope. To this day I would give it all up for one last shag.

Suzanne - Irish, left me when she discovered she was preggers by her ex. Shame - she was sound.

Those are the big ones, the ones that left a mark. I have been dumped, ignored, rejected and spurned by countless others.
(bazmorningstar efil4nat3b, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 15:25, 10 replies)

As I've mentioned before
I don't have to try. As this QOTW is moving so slow, I shall regail you with the tale of what was almost a happy encounter. A cautionary tale, in a sens, to avoid teenagers. The tale of the double dumping.

Now. If you are unlucky enough to have seen any of my posts before, you'll know I don't have much luck with women. This comes from a chronic lack of self confidence, basically. You might also have picked up that I look a lot younger than I am.

I spend a great deal of my time single. I had a doomed marriage to a shit-stain wife who destroyed what confidence I had when she fucked off (blah blah) so I don't really make a lot of effort to, erm, 'pull'. So when anyone puts more than a tiny bit of effort into getting to know me past the mad little funny guy who makes them laugh, I tend to get my hopes up. It has happened a few times now, but none were more surprising than "C".

C was a bit of a shock, really. I met her through friends and got chatting to her through myspace..... she had gone out with one of my mates who had, for lack of a better phrase, pumped her and dumped her. She was tiny, slim, stunning and 19 years old at the time, 10 years my junior. I was taken aback when she started showing an interest in me, so when she practically begged me to change my plans to go to a mutual friends party 'because you always make me smile', I did. We spent much of the night chatting and she took my number.

Ah I wish I could say I was naive. In the back of my mind I knew she was trying to make my friend jealous. So it wasn't much of a surprise to my cynical old self when she texted me after two dates to say the age gap was freaking her out. I told her not to worry, I understood and I'd forget about coming to see her the next day..... but no! She still wanted to see me 'as a friend' so I agreed.

When I arrived, she had a friend with her (the one who later also played about with my brain) so we sat for a while and had a laugh until her friend was about to leave. I felt I'd better leave too so I said night-night, dropped her friend off and went home. C'est la vie.

About an hour later, I received a massive 3 page text explaining how the age gap had meant nothing really and asking me to go on msn... once there, she told me she'd hardly been able to keep her hands off me but was scared because her previous 3 relationships had left her scarred (one of them being my mate). She told me she thought I was different to all the others and had started to trust me which had freaked her out, and even started talking about (if we're still together in two years...) which, to be honest, was a bit soon but I ignored the alarm bells. I promised her I wouldn't hurt her and we talked on into the night, arranging to meet again on saturday, one week after the party we'd got together at. We met. It all seemed to go well.... I took things slowly as is my way.

Now I know it may seem from all this that I had acquired a limpet. An unshakeable, needy tick of a girl. But no! This is me we're talking about. She dumped me on the monday, saying she just wasn't ready for a relationship, and promptly wrote a blog on myspace explaining how happy and in love she was with her ex who had returned from the army on the sunday. Lurid details of the sex, the lot. She also told a friend of mine I wasn't forward enough, and she's single and heartbroken again now apparently.

So there we are. I got dumped twice in one week by the same person. Bloody scatty teenagers! I really do NOT need to try.

Soz for lack of funny but it's a slow week and it's my last story, and apologies for length, had she had more patience I'd have said that to her too!
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 14:16, 13 replies)

Arse!
.
A passing memory flitted across my brain and I remembered the "Hot Or Not" board for B3tards. So I quickly checked it out.

I've been dumped.

Not from the board entirely but from the top 100.

I can't even use my age as an excuse as the fucking Resident Loon weighs in at number 2! And he's a Merkin!

But the thing that hurts most is that fucking Apeloverage is way ahead of me at number 60 something. That aches.

Still. At least I'm ahead of Citadel and he was a Marine. And fate has somehow put me and Pooflake right next to each other.

scoreboards.hotornot.com/b3tards?page=10

Cheers
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Wed 11 Jun 2008, 13:23, 167 replies)

The Hardest Dumping...
It took 5 hours, lots of straining, in fact I think I shit a kidney out.


*looks at question*


Oh Shit.
(Code of Post lives at the moment in time that is..., Wed 11 Jun 2008, 13:20, Reply)