From the otherside
I had an ex try hard to break up with me, want to know how she did it?

She bit me.

Downstairs.

That's right, I was walking funny and had teeth marks on my 'length' for a week after.

Funnily enough we stopped being an item in an instant.

Length? Near the tip, her mouth was too small to accommodate any more.

_{Was a while before the old boy was back up for anymore shenanigans, and I was more than a little gun-shy when conversations with new partners came about to blow-jobs}
(UncleChuckles "Cthulhu fhtagn", Thu 5 Jun 2008, 14:19, 8 replies)

About 11000 miles
I moved from sunny South Africa to get rid of her. We kept contact on the phone because I was too soft to dump her. She sold all her stuff and moved over. Once she got here I thought it was high time to dump her. Obviously I shagged her one last time before I dumped her - just for the memories like.
(The Archduke of South London I'm in your Girlfriend eating her organs, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 14:17, Reply)

That's when it SHOULD have been over...
... if she had any sense.

A while ago now, I was on-again-off-again involved with my trainee, a pretty gorgeous girl and all round glorious and special individual whom I was lucky to have in my life at all.

Unfortunately I have a terrible snoring disorder. So we were lying on the bed one night and I was half asleep. She was pretty much dressed as it was about 4am and she was trying to be bothered to get up and go home. Suddenly I felt the goodness brewing and I let rip with the most god almighty fart known to man. This did not amuse her. The smell was fantastic and, best of all, it was such an outstanding fart that I had woken myself up. Always a good sign.

Shaking my head and looking around the room for praise, I jumped off the bed and sauntered into the bathroom. I was still snoozy and rested my head against the toilet roll for a quick drowse. Nice.

But after a while I realised that noise from the bedroom was still occurring. Peeling open my eyes, I realised that she was still running around the room. With. Next. To. No. Consideration. For. My. Head. A leopard with curry up its ass couldn't have moved that quickly. She was getting dressed. The stupid bitch had thrown the duvet on to the floor. It was all over. And I don't just mean all over the floor.

Or was it? She was still there. Eventually, as the noise from the bedroom increased in crescendo, she turned the light on. And just stood there, staring at the bed, looking at it. Jesus. Had she been facing the other way, the annoying bitch would have been staring at ME!

She turned the light off, ran out, jumped in her car and fled home. I was happy that the bed was all mine again and, leaving the toilet unflushed and my arse unwiped, strolled happily back into bed, jumped back on it, stretched out, rolled luxuriously all over the sheets and....

what??


No apologies for length, she fucking loved it.
( rachelswipe with a fork, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 14:10, 15 replies)

Like Fireflier
I have no story this week. I have never been dumped. I have dumped precisely two boys, and was rather nice about it.

My relationship is older than his. Ours is old enough to be an MP (21). Actually, its old enough to have been an MP for 4 years.

Gulp.

So I will be reading with interest in case I do decide to trade him in for a richer model.
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Thu 5 Jun 2008, 14:10, Reply)

I still feel a little guilty over this....
During my first year of Uni I made the fatal mistake of getting together with a lass who turned out to be as mad as a sack of genetically modified badgers. It all happened after a drunken night out, I don't remember the exact events of the evening in question, but the next day I woke up to find that I was now "Seeing" a girl from the floor below mine in our halls.

Now this didn't start out too bad, like I said, she was pretty good looking and seemed pretty normal..however this soon changed.

Being from a quiet little village near Oxford she'd never really socialised with anyone, thus a decent night out to her was to stay in and watch a DVD, as opposed to mine which was to go out round York and get into as many alcohol-related shenanigans as possible with my friends.

This posed a problem as she began to behave more like a mother than a girlfriend, always asking where I was, who I was with and what I was doing. As if this wasn't bad enough, she then began to give me grief about drinking and smoking too much (She had never touched alcohol befor going to uni), add this to the fact that she was as frigid as a feminist Eskimo and you can see that things just weren't going to work.

Now I'm a pretty nice guy so didn't want to hurt her feelings by dumping her, but likewise couldn't bear to be in her prescence any longer...so I devised a plan to get her to dump me, this way she wouldn't be upset (It made sense at the time).

I started out by locking the door to my room if she was in the halls (Remember she only lived a floor below me), if I heard her approaching I would mute the TV and Stereo and be silent while she knocked on the door, eventually she realised that I "wasn't in" and toddled off, at which point I'd go back to whatever I was doing.

Unfortunately she didn't get the message, so I stepped up the campaign and began ignoring text messages and phonecalls, not turning up for arranged meetings etc etc. This went on for around 3 weeks, she still didn't quite get the message.

The final straw was when I came home from Uni for Easter without either telling her or saying goodbye. That night I was in the local with some friends when I got a call on my mobile, it went something like this:

Me - Hello
Her - Hello, where are you
Me - In the pub
Her - Oh yeah, which one? I'll come and meet you.
Me - The XXXX
Her - Oh right, is that the one on XXXX street?
Me - No it's on XXXX street
Her - Where abouts is that?
Me - XXXX (Name of home town)
Her - Oh.....

(Awkward silence before she bursts into floods of tears)

Her - This isn't really working is it?
Me - (Quite casually) Nah not really
Her - I think we should take a little time apart
Me - Yeah ok then....erm....see you later then

Funnily enough, she never spoke to me again and avoided me for the rest of the term before we moved out of halls.

I'm not a total git though, I've been with the current Mrs Samurai for over two years and I haven't been a git with her...much.


Apologies for length....she didn't get any.
(Cow_Tipping_Samurai, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 14:06, 2 replies)

Want to get rid of a man? Offer him your virginity!
I was 15 when I got my first boyfriend. He was 18; I felt so cool and sophisticated!

We played in chamber groups/orchestras together, got on really well (I even met his parents, and he mine), and life was perfect.

Then, after about 4 months together, having declared our love to each other countless times, I confessed to him that I wanted to lose my virginity to him. Not at school of course, because if caught we'd be expelled, but during the holidays. He agreed, and seemed keen. Hell, he was an 18 year old professional music geek and virgin, and I was a pretty little 15 year old with huge norks. Who wouldn't seem keen?!

Well, him, apparently. A week after this romantic conversion, he dumped me because he thought we were "going too fast". Arseholes. I ended up losing my virginity that summer to a local farm boy. Worked fine for me, but there wasn't the romantic connection I'd have had with music boy.

So, if any of you nubile young schoolgirls out there want to get rid of an unwanted boyfriend, simply offer him your virginity. Apparently it's not worth what it used to be.
(The Empress it seems you CAN polish a turd!, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 14:00, 23 replies)

randy farm hand
As a teenager i decided that I wanted to be a vet 'when i grow up', so to get the necessary experience, I began volunteering at 2 local farms and Riding for the Disabled. It was at the most local farm that i met randy farm hand (rfh/danny).

Every weekend he would follow me round like a lovesick puppy or show me how macho he was by wrestling sheep to the ground. The farmer thought it was hilarious, his wife thought it was adorable, i was just hugely feaked out by it all, being young, naive, and, well, educated (rfh was 2 years older than me, but could barely count to ten, dropped out of school at 15, and wanted to be a full time farm hand for the rest of his life. oh, and i was a total intellectual snob.).

rfh eventually took to asking me out every weekend, and every weekend i'd say no, thank you (hey, i'm well mannered even in a rejection!), and we'd be awkward around eachother until lunch time, then the same thing would happen the following saturday and sunday. ho hum.

i got very fed up with this after a while, especially when it escalated to him asking me every ten minutes or so whilst we were helping a cow with a particularly difficult delivery - i had my hands inside a cow, was sweating like a politician being asked to tell the truth, and was NOT interested in his crap. This was helped by the poor cow mooing and moaning as she tried to push the huge calf out of her back end. Eventually the calf was born, and we had to watch the cow for a couple of hours, as it had been a very bad labour. rfh ket on with his attempts to wear me down, and was annoying me TOO much. so when the placenta was delivered, i picked up the warm wet heavy mass, slopped it over his head, whilst shouting 'NO I DO NOT WANT TO GO OUT WITH YOU!!!'.

he got the message, and joined the navy two days later (i wish i were joking).

apologies for length, it was a difficult birth.
( ascorbate, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 13:49, 4 replies)

HLT’s guide to How Not To Break Up With Someone (antithesis to CHCB’s earlier post)
1. Say “It’s not me, it’s you”.

2. If you can be bothered to wait a few months between deciding to break up and actually breaking up, buy some flower seeds and plant them in your dumpee’s garden to spell out the following phrase “YOU’RE DUMPED, LOSER, AND YOUR NAUGHTY BITS ARE GENERALLY UNSATISFACTORY”. Begonias or pansies are the best to use for this as to present someone with these means “I hate you and wish unpleasant things to happen to you” in the language of flowers. ensuring that your spellage and grammery is correct before planting in order to avoid picky types picking on you for not being perfick

3. If breaking up at Christmas, make one of those homemade crackers. Instead of putting in a joke, write a little note of hatred for the recipient to find whilst feasting on figgy pudding and being festive.

4. Take out a full-page advert in the national press declaring your love for Eamonn Holmes.

5. Hide in a cupboard in Japan for a year. The embarrassment and publicity when you are found will be enough to make anyone scarper.

6. Buy cushions and embroider them with the component letters of the sentence “I don’t like you any more, goodbye” and scatter them about randomly in the living room. Eventually they will arrange themselves in the right order and your boyfriend/girlfriend will read them and leave.

7. Stop showering and washing your clothes.

8. And finally – gentlemen, don’t say it with flowers, say it with wasps.

That is all.

[edited for the grammar police]
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 13:47, 21 replies)

Poop
Well, there was the incident with the glycerol. I did get dumped :)
(calamarain just invented dehydrated water, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 13:44, Reply)

chubber
I actually asked her, "have you always been fat or did you get that way from too much eating?".

I honestly couldnt work out why that upset her. She was fat, no point in pretending otherwise. A perfectly cromulent question I thought.

So, not hard at all really.
( I have run out of coke is a little sweaty, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 13:40, 5 replies)

Breaking up is hard to do...
I was sitting there, in my pyjamas. These weren’t any ordinary pyjamas, no – these were super-straight, grey and flannel. They were about as unsexy as pyjamas can get. The covers of the bed were pulled up to my chin, the only concession I had made was to have my arms free to so I would be able to read. I snatched a quick glance up as I heard the rooms door open, and saw her enter. Her hair was straight and black in the dim light, her body still glistening slightly with moisture from the shower she had just taken. The towel she wore around her waist, leaving her bare breasts exposed, fell to the floor, revealing her to be resplendent in her nakedness. Looking down, I noticed that she was wearing high, black shoes – knowing, as she did, that I really, really, liked that – and watched as she made her way over to the bed,

She placed a knee on the mattress and, balancing herself with a hand on the pillow, raised her other leg and drew it across me. She straddled me there, looking deep in to my eyes, playing with her hair and letting her hands flow across the swell of her breast and down towards that special haven that nestled between her lean, long legs.

“So,” she breathed, “here I am. How do you want me?”

If anything, I pulled the covers even higher. Impossibly, I had been trying to escape the clutches of this relationship for well over four months. It had been my first ever ‘proper’ relationship, my first ever foray in to the strange landscape that I knew as ‘Love’. The sex was intense, the passion deep, the friendship solid. But.

But.

She was mad. Madder than a ferret in a trouser factory. In the space of six months, I had been beaten up (and could never bring myself to retaliate or restrain – you just don’t do that to women), accused of serial misdemeanours involving people I’d never even met, been told I was to be a father on no less than four occasions (each of which miscarried after a day or two), been told that I’d never get anyone better than her, been told that I’d never make it through my college course let alone make it to University, been followed by her and her Dad and been physically thrown out of a pub because she told the landlord that I was bothering her and she’d never met me before. She found this funny.

I could not dump her myself, not if I wanted to live. This was one of those situations where you have to convince the other person that the dumping is their idea, and their idea only. And so I found myself taking her to work with me and have her sit at the bar while I did what barmen do best – flirt with barmaids and patrons. She came to a play I was in where I had to kiss another girl. I started becoming distant, disappearing to make phone calls to ‘no-one’. All of which lead me to being sat in a bed, the covers pulled up to my chin, being straddled by a girl in nothing but high-heeled black shoes.

She looked deep in to me, in to my soul. And she said “this isn’t working, is it?”

I took a deep breath. Even then, I didn’t do so well with confrontation. “No,” I said “it isn’t.”

I then had the most bizarre break up ever. She sat in front of me, stark naked, and we talked out our relationship. I was finally honest about why I thought it wasn’t working, and was honest about my behaviour. The strange thing was that she understood – she had, in her own way, been trying to show me that she cared for me and wanted to be happy with me, and sometimes took it too far.

The talk turned deeper and deeper and deeper, and we ended up in each other’s arms, crying like small children.

This was the only time that I ever proceeded to have break up sex. Which, given the circumstances, was the most intimate, honest moment we ever shared with each other. We’re still friends now. She’s a child psychologist, yet whenever I see her I can’t help but remember the high heeled black shoes...
( Devil_In_Tights the *real* DiT!, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 13:33, 8 replies)

Trying to get dumped?
I never have to try hard to get dumped by my girlfriends. I go with the easier option of stabbing them to death and keeping their corpses in my cellar where I can stuff them and have little tea parties when I get bored.



What?
(mon bison powered by magnets, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 13:33, 3 replies)

We don't know if he was trying to make her dump him, but...
My housemate was doing the long distance thing with her boyf. He did the following before they finally broke up.

1) Never answered her calls, texts, emails, anything
2) Didn't even text her on Valentines Day
3) 'forgot' their 3 year anniversary
4) Went to sweden for a week for work without telling her he'd gone.
5) Came to see her twice in the 3 years she was in uni.
6) Refused foreplay as he found it 'unnecessary'. (that's giving and receiving)

The only reason she stayed with him for so long was because she liked having someone to shag when she went home. She said she would have dumped him at xmas, but he bought her a digital camera, so she thought that meant he deserved at least another 3 months.

Bless

Stupid manc

Hands up who thinks he was cheating...
(Ryfelwr can't stop here... this is bat country, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 13:04, 1 reply)

I dont really have a story this week...
But I did once refuse to call an ambulance when my slightly deranged nutjob of an ex decided to take 60 headache tablets and a bottle of vodka after I'd caught him dressed as a woman, and dumped him.

My mother told me Id regret it if he died - to which I replied "Why? That way I'd get the flat".

He was later sectioned against his will because he put me as his next of kin and I could sign the paperwork!

And that may all sound very harsh, but he deserved it.
(Kaplaaah Wasting time on the net since 1994., Thu 5 Jun 2008, 13:02, 6 replies)

Unlike CHCB...
...who seems to have boundless experience in this area, not to mention the generosity of spirit to pass on her advice, I have nothing to say here.

Nothing. Bugger all.

While I was dumped a couple of times before I was 15 (I was never the dumper - too polite), pretty much from that point on, I've been with the now Mrs Fireflier. We've never split up during that time, we may have had our ups and downs, but we're still together and show no sign of imploding in the near future.

I'm now 33 (just, still - birthday next week), so that's coming on for 18 years we've been together. My relationship can nearly vote!

My secret? Has nothing to do with length...
( Fireflier La la la la, not listening on, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 12:55, 17 replies)

I moved to London
In order to escape a relationship, I moved to Londong and didn't tell the girl I wanted to be rid of.

It had been one of those on-off affairs for about 8 years. We had been seeing other people during that time, but never really stopped having sex, or playing emotional mind-games.

I got offered a job in London (I was living in Liverpool at the time) and decided to take it. I didn't tell the on-off missus, or the girl I had been seeing for three months for that matter, and told my folks not to tell anyone where I had gone.

It worked really well - I've been married to the on-off missus for 3 years, 11 months and two weeks today...
(ScousersPet, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 12:54, Reply)

Added to CHCB's post
Don't tell your Girlfriend of 6 1/2 years that she has been dumped (after just going away on holioday together) via facebook, thus alerting not only your (soon to be ex) girlfriend - when she actually looks on facebook - but also all your friends and your mutual friends.

Especially when you only update your status on facebook to single -"because the girls in the office" told you to.

Coward.
(audreyforbes audreyforbes, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 12:50, 3 replies)

Rolos
I have lived away from the UK for a while so not sure if Rolo choccies are still around

The Rolo chocolates had the premise "do you love them enough to give them your last Rolo?"

One Valentines Day I spotted this little arrangement in the newsagent - it was a wee little box with one Rolo in it with the loving message "here is my last Rolo"

I gave it to the very-soon-to-be ex boyfriend but lo, I had eaten the Rolo.

Super tasty, it was too!

We limped on for another year, but that really was the turning point

It did go well with that cup off coffee though
( Strangey is present at, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 12:50, 3 replies)

CHCB's guide to breaking up in a civilised manner
1. Meet somewhere neutral but relatively private. Public spaces mean you can't raise your voices without making a scene, so avoid those if there's likely to be more drama than an episode of Bergerac. Choose somewhere where emotions can be expressed without interruption from the public or interference from the police. Try a secluded corner of the park, or a deserted beach. Avoid libraries, the pub at closing time, or the knife aisle of TK Maxx.

2. Begin with a sensitive opening gambit, e.g. "I'm not happy at the moment, I don't think things are working between us". Look and act sensitive too. It is not appropriate to cackle.

3. Give reasons or something to allay their curiousity, e.g. "we fight all the time" or "we haven't had sex in 6 months" or "I HATE THE WAY YOU BREATHE". Keep it appropriately kind, though.

4. Make it about you, not them. Good examples of this include: "I find it difficult..." or "it upsets me when...". Bad examples of this include: "you are evil like all the others before you and I won't let you steal my soul, dammit!".

5. Don't say "I hope we can still be friends" unless a) you actually mean it, and b) they aren't trying to impale themselves on the nearest fence post out of grief. If you only want to be friends because it'll make you feel less like a dick then don't do it.

6. Cry. Nothing wrong with crying.

7. Arrange to collect belongings civilly or else write them off as a loss. Close any joint bank accounts if you're worried about revenge.

8. DO NOT TALK TO EACH OTHER AT ALL FOR AT LEAST ONE WEEK, possibly longer. No contact at all.

9. Ex-sex is perfectly permissible. It's almost compulsory, isn't it? Just leave it 'til you're further down the line and remember that the other party may be investing very different emotions into the resulting hot, frenetic nekkidness.

10. If someone new appears on the scene, for either party, it's fine to obsess over them, call them all the names of the day, diss them hugely and rant about them being a rebound thing. Just don't let your ex-partner hear you. It gets easier, and once the rebound thing has passed, you will give less of a shit about who they're with.

Good luck.

Addendum: face-to-face is the decent way of breaking up. Via text and email is po-mo and ridiculous. Via Facebook is just plain cruel.

This was another Pubic Service Announcement brought to you by the New Friggin' Messiah
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 12:41, 19 replies)

poor man
I got very drunk at a house party (with kids from the rival school!) when I was about 16, and ended up flirting with some bloke - couldn't remember a single thing about him the next day, and was happily getting over my hangover when my 'best' friend called for the inevitable postmortem. We chatted about the lack of talent at the party, and then she told me that i'd been sitting in this guy's lap, stroking his hair, and generally fondling him. a lot. when he asked for my number, I refused, so she wrote it on the back of his hand! Bitch!
So I hung up on her, in a typical teenage huff. Which is, of course, when the phone rang.

Yup, less than 24 hours later, the poor bloke called me. I was not interested really, but he was very persistant. conversation went a little like this:

Bloke: Hi vitamin, it was LOVELY meeting you last night.
Me: sorry, what's your name?
B: (whatever his name was), don't you remember me? do you want to meet up some time?
Me: um, I'm not really sure.
B: please? let's go to the cinema this weekend?
Me: um, probably not a great idea.
B: just one date wouldn't hurt would it?
Me: um, i've just got out of a serious relationship (yup, that old chestnut)
B: Saturday then?
Me: sorry bloke, I don't think so.
B: what time?
Me (totally fed up with him by now): actually, i've got an appointment with family planning on saturday, maybe after that?
B: Wha?!
Me (lying as if i want to work for Siralun sugar): yup, i'm pregnant, not sure whose it is, but i suppose all kids need a positive male role model in their life, so a date with you may not be such a bad idea.
B: *click* of phone hanging up.

i've no idea if there was any length to apologise for, i didn't let it get that far.
( ascorbate, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 12:35, 3 replies)

Nutty exes
A few years ago, I split with my then gf, it was quite amicable and a few months later we got back together. It was then that alarm bells should have started ringing as she told me that in the time we were apart she used to be out in the car and just happen to drive by my house, despite living 25 miles away.

Anyhoo, we decide to go to Rhodes for a week. First night we have a huge bust up which results in her screeching at me like a deranged harpy. Same again the following day so I tell her that when we get home we shouldn't see each other anymore, which results in more hysterics. I leave her with 1 of her friends who lives there and meet up with some Scots guys who are in our hotel. Later on that night, still totally hacked off, I got chatting to some English girl, after a few drinks she invites me back to her apartment, much humping ensues.

The following day, I was still pissed off and couldn't wait to go home. I was wandering along the street when I passed a travel agent advertising flights. I enquired if there were any flights to Edinburgh and was told the only 1 to the UK was Manchester. After a moment's thought I paid the 100 Euros. I went back to my hotel, she was lying in bed. I told her I was going home, she said if I went she would never speak to me again. I told her I hated her and that I had slept with someone else the night before, she ranted and raved, threw the contents of her make up bag at me. I got all my clothes together and walked out without another word. Jumped in a taxi to the airport, flight to Manchester, then a train to Edinburgh and I was at home 12 hours after walking out the hotel room.

I received a text a few days later from her saying "We are finished, I never want to see you again"

Err...no shit!!!
(Kia Ora it's 2 orangey 4 crows, it's just 4 me and my dog, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 12:10, Reply)

L'alcoolisme (aka I've never really tried...)
...but since I don't have a proper answer for this week, I'll try this one on for size.

The predecessor to the current Ms Crow (who I love to bits and will certainly not be trying to get shot of) was seen as a bit of an odd choice by many. We got on well, and we shared one or two common interests, but I think most people realised that the two of us had virtually nothing in common.

I, however, was feeling quite lonely, depressed and even a shade desperate, and think there were two deciding factors:
1. This girl was French, and I was probably hoping in my sad little way that she would fulfil the stereotype and be amenable to much wine and much romance, ooh la la.
2. She was the polar opposite to the previous ex, who I'd been trying to get out of my psyche - a self-serving, Thatcherite whore, but that's another story.

Well, I was right about point 2, but not point 1. She was a lovely girl, and although I couldn't fault her as a person, she was about as romantic as a jar of Bovril. Plus - and this was where it really started to strain - she thought I had a drink problem.

Now I've had plenty of practice on the drink front, and am well acquainted with the intoxicating properties of ale, so I thought she was joking at first. But it soon became apparent that she slyly keeping tabs* on my drinking and encouraging me not to have another pint.

So what did I do? I carried on drinking.

Told you I didn't try very hard. But I did feel like a bit of a bastard when I decided that I didn't really want to go to the museum with her sister, but would actually prefer to stay in the pub with my friends (including the current Ms Crow, who found it hilarious that someone was measuring my alcohol consumption)

I do feel kind of bad carping about the whole situation in this manner. I should reiterate that she was a lovely person, we just weren't compatible.

Apologies for length and gratuitous self-indulgence. I may edit this to try and sound less pathetic when I next escape from the lab...

*_{Alert: possible pun}
(LongJohnBaldry, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 12:08, Reply)

Andrea
My mate was dating a German girl called Andrea when we were 16. She was a complete fucking nightmare, but, she was also a complete slut (to a 16 year old - this is an important virtue).

After a few months of bedroom antics he decided that eh needed to leave her for someone who does not cry every time she gets the hiccups, coughs or looks at her face in the mirror.

The thing is, every time he tried to dump her she would turn on the waterworks, say she will change, scream, make a scene, threaten to kill him, then herself, then scream more. He always agreed to give it another go as he just was not a strong enough man.

He needed a plan to get rid of her once and for all

So he told her he had AIDS

He told her he caught it from a previous girl and he could not be with her anymore as he would kill himself if he infected her.

HE also didn’t think this through to well. As she, in turn, told the entire six form of his illness. Within a week he had gone from the Stud who is banging the German to the Kid with Aids. People would cross the road if they saw him coming. No one would sit near him or touch him. His pleas of “its Aids not leprosy” fell on deaf ears.

He came clean when it got back to his parents and his mother had almost instant breakdown. Most of us found it really funny. The poor German girl, who had spent the weeks campaigning and trying to raise awareness, did not.

His plan had worked - she never did talk to him after that. But neither did any other female.
( KISS.ME.WHERE.I.POO Signed the sex offenders register on, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 12:07, Reply)

I told him that I'd joined a relgious cult
and that my new found faith meant that I couldn't smoke, drink, watch TV or listen to music, and there there was no form of contact (sexual or otherwise)until I was 30, but that was ok - he loved me enough to wait, didn't he?

We were only 15. It was the only way I could get rid of him, short of stabbing his grandmother (and even that wouldn't have worked if he could still have a go on my tits).
( Wicca'd Witch needs ideas for a new sig on..., Thu 5 Jun 2008, 12:04, 1 reply)

Well, I really didn't 'try'......
In my first year at uni, I had managed to get myself a girlfriend, one of my neighbours a lovely girl. I had no intentions for this to last at all, nothing against her I just liked my independence (and still do).

We would have sex (a lot, it was in Scotland, so the best way to keep warm really), go drinking on occasion together at the local rock club (Cage for those who know Dundee) and meet up for lunches during the week from time to time. I made it clear that this was not a permanent situation.

When we left to go home for the summer I told her that we shouldn't see each other anymore.

We went out for over a year.

A year of me being the least committal person I could be (she came to visit me over the summer break when I was home, but I never went to see her) and just trying to distance myself from her. Get back to uni, find a part-time job and settle at my new flat back in Dundee ready for my next year.

Then it happens, one night she comes over, teary-eyed and says that she thinks we should break up (found out it was because she had gone with a friend to a party and 'cheated' on me, though I didn't really care, as far as I cared we broke up at the start of summer). I simply agree with her, let her out, inform my flatmates (top blokes these guys) and go out for several rounds of pints.

But, dear reader, it doesn't end there, Lord no.

For a week she would continue to call, text, email and come round to try and be friends (she thought that I had taken the break up badly as I wasn't communicating with her about my feelings, saying 'Woo Yay' to her seemed cruel). One night I was out with the boys when I bumped into her, and she followed me around the whole night.

As the club kicked out I realised that she was alone so offered to walk her to her flat (I'm a gentleman like that) where she asked me if I was thirsty. I asked for a glass of water while she put the kettle on, I knew what was coming. After she made her cup of tea she turned to me, having just finished my water, and said 'you aren't going to leave me to drink this tea all by myself?', to which I simply replied 'yes' and left.

She finally got the hint, and since then has moved on.

Which was nice.

Length? What do you think kept her coming back, my personality?
(UncleChuckles "Cthulhu fhtagn", Thu 5 Jun 2008, 12:02, 1 reply)

I don't like this qotw very much
It implies we're all spineless cowardy custards.

You're all dumped.
Goodbye.
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:57, 18 replies)