well the bogger's been backed up all week now at work
I've been trying to dump into it all week long, mashing it down with the poo-stained brush. I've been trying hard to dump, is that what you mean?
( Frumbert has no sig, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 12:05, 2 replies)

Weird
I used to go out with a girl and we had a long relationship (5+ years) but things seemed to follow a cycle of everything would be ok for 6 months then something would happen and it would all go tits up with on eor the other of us wanting to finish.

It got to the point where I was no longer happy and decided that I no longer wanted to live my life that way and that I deserve to be with someone I'm happy with none of the mood swings or accusation or lack of trust (admittedly I was no angel but she took things from my past that she demanded to know about and then would use them as reasons not to trust me).

So I decided to finish things and started speaking about what was going on and why I wasn't happy and used reasons that basically said 'I can't live like this, I've had enough after 5 years and it's not about you, it's me that's the problem'

Only problem was that when I was giving her reasons for finishing it was more like 'It's not me, it's you' and after much tears and talking and promises that she'd change (why should you change for someone? It's not fair on either party and isn't the true you) we decided to finish things.

Although things did work out as on the back of that I met the current Miss FucKarma and helped her into her into her new flat the other week and for soemthiing that usually is quite stressful (and seeing as we've been going out for about 3-4 months) we did surprisingly well!

So I guess all happens for a reason
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 11:54, Reply)

'Just how hard have you had to work to get someone to take the hint and stay dumped?'
Er, never had to. I was usually the one being dumped *sob*.

However, the lamest excuse I ever had for being left high and dry on the emotional shelf, after much probing and exclamations to effect of "Come on, we've been together for 'x' years, the least I deserve in an explanation as to why", was...

"You're too nice".

WTF?

Ah well, happier times and places ensued eventually. As an aside, Tourette's reckons that the most romantic thing I ever said to her, (next to going down on bended knee to propose) was on holiday a few years ago. The weather was warm, 'twas a balmy evening, we were getting a bit frisky on the balcony; except that we had a triple room (i.e. one room with three beds in it) and Sweary Junior was asleep inside...

I leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Fucking hell, I wish I had some bromide".

You see, at the time SJ was going through a very insecure patch and could have woken up at any given moment. Hence the need for bromide to stop me tipping myself over the edge. She took it as a compliment that she was having such an effect on me. And yes, I know that the story about the Navy putting bromide in sailor's tea to stop them getting urges on the poop-deck is a load of bollocks, before anyone starts
( Davros' Granddad a voice of calm reason in a world of spastics., Fri 6 Jun 2008, 11:51, 11 replies)

Nutter
I was dating a young lass, looked good, was good to spend time with when she was sober etc.

It just deteriorated every time we when out on the lash, she would drunkenly wiggle like an epileptic spastic in front of me while droning something like "dOoo yoooo liike mY lapdarrrnse? DoOo yooo fink its teh seXay?"

It got to the point where I couldn't even drink enough to drown out the annoyance and the frankly disturbing prospect of taking her home for sub-par sex scarily uncannily like cheap pornos (The usual shouts of "cum on my tits" while biting her lip in an un-seductive manner and "lets see if my entire fist can fit inside me as I reckon it will turn you right on").

We were in a bar with a group of her mates and I was happily sitting there daydreaming while knocking back a few bevvies. She looks over at me and says "You ok?"
I answer "yes, I'm fine, a little tired, but fine"
To which she responds by shouting at me, then asking her mate if it was ok for her to crash at hers while she arranged a taxi to take me home (WTF? never said anything about going home at the time).

I saw this as an ideal time to escape my sadness, and tell her that "I didn't want to go home, but obviously you wanted me to".

She then stormed off with all her mates bar her best mate outside for a smoke. Her best mate then looks at me blankly, and gets up and walks off to the toilet.

As i'm now on my own, I make a break for it, I get up and walk to her house (my car was there), at least 6 miles, in the torrential rain.

It was the best 2 and a half hours of bliss, didn't bother contacting her until the afternoon of the next day, only to be shouted at and dumped on the phone. Bonus!
(Ethelred is watching cheese grow, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 11:28, 6 replies)

More the dumpee in fact
Except I'm not sure I've even been dumped....

Mr B did actually dump me just after Christmas, as he still had feelings for his wife, apparently.
Eventually he came back and all was well. For a bit.
After a few weeks of him removing affection, not talking about much and just generally being a bit 'odd', I started to get somewhat suspicious.
All I got was 'my head's a mess this divorce is stressful' sort of thing.
Two weeks ago he starts sending the 'I need to sort my head out and be by myself for a bit' texts, followed by the classic (and crap) 'it's not you it's me' line.
It's at this point I got very very annoyed at not being given a straight 'you're dumped'
Left him to it for a few days and this week I got more of the 'I don't feel the same way, I need to think of myself and my future' lines.
'That's it' I thought, 'I'm definitely dumped now', especially after my rant about him not telling me to my face and doing it by text. Again.
Upset? Yes. but there's no way I can compete with his feelings for his ex wife, even though he hates her.....
So my mindset is defulating to 'single' and I'm out on the lash tonight as it's someone's leaving do, and I will be pinching men's arses and behaving like a dirty old woman that I am....
Except, I've just had a text from him, first time in a few days and that bastion of social crappiness, Facebitch tells me he is still in a 'complicated' relationship with me.....

So maybe I've not been dumped at all

I'm confused.
(Beklet is inexplicably angry, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 11:19, 6 replies)

The 'rabbit' affair
One of my ex's took being dumped quite hard.

We were living together and had been in a relationship for about three and a half years, about two years of which I was happy. So I did what I had to do and said I thought we should break up.

After locking himself in the spare room crying for nearly two days, he then came out and acted like nothing had happened. I told him again and he took my phone and locked me in the bedroom for nearly 24 hours. He then continued to act as if nothing had happened.
I have to add I was much younger, much more nieve and much less able to assert myself. So things carried on for a while. As far as I was concerned we were no longer together and he was just looking for somewhere to live.

So, I admit it was low, but after nearly a month of this weird half-existence I started seeing someone else. When I began no longer coming home every night he eventually declared he was going to his mums. 'Yay! He has finally accepted things and is leaving me'.

But after three weeks he said he was coming back. I assumed to get his things so I arranged to spend a couple of nights at the new boyfriends to be out of his way (he had also previously smashed the flat up and threatened to hit me, attempted to rape me and proven himself to have a drink problem - so I didnt fancy seeing him any more!) When I wasnt home to greet him after his 'holiday' (which Id told him was him moving out, but apparently he thought it wasnt final yet), he got pissed and tried to kill himself in my bath tub.

By this point his mother came to get him, packed up his things and took him home and convinced him it was over. I very quickly also moved out of that flat.

I discovered when packing my things that he had bought me a present. A rampant rabbit vibrator, 'so I wouldnt ever need any other man'.

Since followed about 2 years of abusive emails, begging me to come back to him and telling me what a disgusting whore I was along with death threats. But that he still loved me and wanted me anyway.

I think Im better off out of that one!
Appologies for the rambling! I know it only part answers the question, but the fact that I started a new relationship while living under his roof was me trying pretty hard to get the message across it was over!
( TheGirlWithNoName, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 11:04, Reply)

My ex super girlfriend
I had a really bad time with my last girlfriend actually as she just wouldn’t take the hint.

I really wanted to go out with this girl who I worked with called Hannah, but I just couldn’t work up enough courage to ask her out so I started going out with another girl called Jenny in the meantime. I thought at the time that Jenny was ok and just a bit shy at first but she displayed increasingly neurotic and aggressive behavior. She…she… hurt me the first time that we had sex.

This really freaked me out but then she tells me that she is in fact a superhero called G-Girl who accidentally absorbed powers such as invulnerability, heat vision and super-senses after she was exposed to a crashed meteorite as a teenager, I was gobsmacked and probably turned on.

This was going ok but due to my increased confidence about being in a relationship I managed to develop my relationship with Hannah, my true love. This didn’t go well with Jenny. I decided to try to end my relationship with Jenny due to her jealousy and concentrate on Hannah however this ended up with Jenny writing off my car and getting me to lose my job. The final straw came when I finally managed to consummate my relationship with Hannah and Jenny attacked us both with a great white shark. Seriously.

Then I fell in cahoots with Jenny’s arch-nemesis who was called Professor Bedlam. He had a plan for me to finally get rid off Jenny by using a piece of meteorite to drain her powers away. I lured Jenny to my apartment with a candlelit honey trap but disaster struck! Hannah had also come round and Hannah and Jenny started to have a bitch fight. Luckily, the meteorite sucked Jenny’s powers away from her before too much damage and hurt was caused.

Then in an another twist it turns out that I shouldn’t have trusted Professor Bedlam as he really wanted the powers from the meteorite himself! I felt obliged to fight him but then in an another completely unbelievable twist both Hannah and Jenny manage to gain powers when the meteorite explodes in their faces.

This precipitates another super powered bitch fight however in a moment of insight I managed to convince Jenny and Professor Bedlam that they have feelings for one another. Jenny agreed with this and they got together.

So everything seemed to work out with me and Hannah, and Professor Bedlam and Jenny. There was a happy ending to this frankly strange tale and we all became the best of friends.

I sold this story a few years ago to a production agent so who knows, it might make me famous!
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 10:15, 4 replies)

Not me but an ex
While my ex is not a b3tan, I'm sure she'd post a story along these lines if she were a member.

When we were together, I was feeling very laid back. This may have been relaxing, but now that I look back, I was getting slacker and slacker all the time with the old personal hygiene. I didn't really care about it much - I just went with the flow of things.

One day, things started to go downhill. I wasn't sure where I was heading and my uncertain future made me feel worried at first and then paranoid. My life was just going through a dark tunnel. It wasn't long before things hit rock bottom...

Completely out of the blue, she started squeezing me. This was by no means an affectionate squeeze. It seemed evil somehow. It hurt! I tried to hug back but she didn't seem to be interested. "What's wrong dear?" I asked. I was given the silent treatment. She was grunting however. This was not a grunt of pleasure. Something was wrong.

I was being squeezed against the walls of our shared abode. I soon realised I was being pushed towards the back door. Then it occurred to me, she wanted me out. This came as a bit of a shock! She opened the back door and pushed me out. It was raining heavily out there. All this time, I was trying to reason with her but just got the grunting silent treatment.

When I was chucked out, I decided to be a gentleman and accept it was over. However on the inside, I was confused. "Why would she do this to me?" I thought. I was being driven round the bend with insanity.

I later heard through the grapevine that she had in fact found someone else. I then realised that in her mind, I was just number two.
( mistaspakkaman and the inedible shifting caterpillars, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 10:15, 6 replies)

sambuca
This is a strange one as I have absolutely no recollection of the primary events, and only anectodal evidence, gossip, and rumour on which to base my tale.

So anyway, I needed to split up with C.

Being a coward and also a stoner, the best option was clearly to get so pissed and stoned - and generally fucked, at every possible opportunity, that she'd realise just what a waster I truly was and call it a day. This was a plan uninhibited in its cunning, and one which necessitated the smoking of copious amounts of skunk. So, bonus.

Everything went well. She gradually got more and more distant as the weeks progressed until the fateful night when she insisted that I be at hers at an alloted time so that we could 'discuss' things.

Keeping to the alloted time was difficult - I was hammered and had been downing shots of sambuca at the pub for most of the evening. When I got to C's, barely capable of speech, I encountered her housemate who coincidentally, was also drinking sambuca. I was offered a shot, and that's the last I remember.

I woke up 12 hours later at a friends house, having walked 5 miles across Nottingham wearing only my underpants.

Before C threw me out, I'd passed out on top of her and managed to pin her down for four hours, during which time I underwent a period of pronounced and prolongued flatulence, interspersed by periodic enquiries of "Are you dumping me because I'm farting?".

She dumped me.
( rofl harris, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 10:07, 1 reply)

I'm about to bare my soul to you all, be grateful!
This QOTW isn't the best one for me, as generally I'm the dumpee, not the dump-er.

You see, I'm one of those clingy, needy, fairly possessive guys that women hate. I like to hold my girlfriend's hand when I'm out in public, I make other people sick by stroking her hair, kissing her softly and making her sit on my knee, no matter where we are, and I LOVE cuddles, snuggling under duvets, and spooning. I proper love the spooning.
It'd be pretty fair to say that, despite my unusually high sex drive, I would rather hold my Mrs for hours than fuck her like the Kursk (deep and full of seamen).

So, many years ago I was naive enough to have married completely the wrong girl, and have a baby with her. I was my typical, affectionate, clingy self, while she appeared to have changed almost instantly, the second we'd got married.
I don't know if it was because she'd realised that she'd made a mistake, or if she'd simply gone off me, or even if I'd just been used to get her knocked up, but looking back now I can see she had been deliberately trying to get rid of me.

Two years of loveless, sexless (this is kind of important in any relationship, let alone to a guy of 20 years old), argument-filled, derogatory comment packed, working 60 hour weeks, doing all of the housework because 'cleaning products affect her eczema', doing all the actual work with the baby, including all of the getting up in the night, making bottles, feeding, changing nappies (all the stuff any parent would do, but for some reason she didn't), and staying in every weekend while she pissed what little I was earning up the wall on shopping and getting pissed with her mates followed.
But none of that worked, I'm a decent guy, I stuck by her, I thought I still loved her, and there was no way I would leave my little baby girl and become a weekend Dad.

So she stepped up her game. By sleeping with my older brother.

Not much has changed since then, she's still a lazy, sponging, feckless cow, and I still consider myself to be a pretty good Dad, despite only seeing the little 'un at weekends now, and some five years or so later, I'm finally starting to talk to my brother again. He's a cock, but it's not his fault, he'd shag anything. -even his wife knows that.

:D!
( Bert Monkeysex is waiting for the mods to delete him, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 9:54, 73 replies)

This one time (not at band camp)...
I was seriously bunged up, couldn't crap for the life of me. Went out and bought a pack of laxatives and took the lot, spent the next 2 hours on the toilet pushing out a bog baby of epic proportions.

That was the hardest I ever had to try to take a ........ oooooh, seem to have misread the question.

_{Or have I?}
(UncleChuckles "Cthulhu fhtagn", Fri 6 Jun 2008, 9:51, Reply)

The religious zealot vs. Mr. Cunt
It was back in the spring/summer generally hot period of a certain year when I met Maria - for that is her name, and if she comes on here then I'm Hillary Clinton - and soon after offering her a Marlboro red and a quick grope around by the Police Station, she soon became my first proper girlfriend. Wahey, thought I. She's purdy, her ol' man is a Captain for a popular Spanish airline that sounds like Diptheria and she has a nice middle class family. Dingfuckingdong, we're quids in here!
So satisfied as I were, things went swimmingly until I drunk four pints once night (I wasn't particularly a drinker then) and she branded me an alcoholic and wouldn't let it drop. Also, then it transpired that she was from an ultra Conservative Catholic background, and would have to bring god, the fact that I enjoy a good hearty wank and the fact that I'm a smoker into conversation on an average of 3.4. times every time that I saw her. Oh yeah, she also wouldn't partake in a spot of adult relaxation "before marriage." So fuck this thinks I, and starts formulating an escape plan a la Richard Nixon from Vietnam, as this was starting to feel like hell, even though I, of course, had done nothing wrong. The strategy went like this - Tell her I can't get my ex out of my head, and I've been living a lie since I started going out with her. Nope, didn't work as she "forgave" me. What the cunting hell for?! Route two was then employed by increasing my drinking level. Again, this was a faliure as she turned a blind eye to it. Okay, the time had now come for something rather shitty and quite cruel that would piss her moralistic Catholic side off - I accused her of cheating on me!
SUCCESS!! This underhand tactic from Mr. Cunt worked as she hit the roof, called me all the names under the sun that were unthinkable to come from her clean little mouth, and told me "YOU'RE THE MOST IMMATURE PERSON I'VE EVER MET. NOW FUCK OFF FROM MY LIFE". Jobs a good'un, and she hasn't spoken to me since.
For the record, her old man was a bit of a fucktard too. He thought I was an immoral person =).

Length? She never got to find out, but she'd have been happy.
(Mr. Cunt put the indy in kindy., Fri 6 Jun 2008, 9:31, 2 replies)

Slightly off topic
My wee sister was engaged to a 'lovely' young man who had spent 4 years stealing money from her, drinking it away, smoking heavily in front of her, insisting she had an abortion at one point, swearing at my family every time we saw him, and generally being an obnoxious twat. My family and I in turn spent 4 years pretending to like him for her sake, but also trying to convince her to leave him. However, she'd told us one too many times about how wonderful he was, and obviously couldn't just leave him without losing her dignity (or so she thought).

so she told me (someone who is about as good at discretion as the news of the world) that he had been hitting her. I promptly told dad, who told mum, and she was whisked out of there sharpish by the parents.

The fiance, who was absolutely gutted by her leaving him, and didn't know why she'd gone, spent 6 months working hard at his alcoholism, dropped out of uni, lost his job, caught fire, got beaten up, had a tattoo go septic, generally having a shitty time, and my sister went off and shagged his 'worst enemy', making sure the message got back to the now ex-fiance.

And now it turns out that she just wanted out, so made up the story about him beating her up. WTF? Yes he was a git, but she's ruined his life without any explanation, given my parents and myself so much to worry about, and for what? Why couldn't she just tell him it wasn't working and walk out?!

(oh, and it later turned out that she had the abortion without telling him, and he was very upset about it all)

I'm still not sure which of them had the luckier escape really.
( ascorbate, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 9:16, 26 replies)

A locally held Triathlon event was hosted recently....
....and there was a showdown of the highest quality. Me friend and local athlete Fred Cheese was pitted against a strong group of 7 others, 3 of which stood out;

Mr Anglo Ackee; a Caribbean moved locally a few years back renowned for his rhythm and skills on the track. Well known for spicing it with the ladies, Ackee was not to be underestimated.
Mr Hans Herring; a German butcher who was as vicious with his opposition as he was with his meat. Not to be trusted, he is known locally for his undercutting of bacon slices.
Mr Timmy Rice; a Chinese man who's Tai-Chi skills were legendary within the community, famous locally for calming the "Great Anger of Jeremy Irons", a disaster that almost cost the lives of 46 locals. Since then he was seen with a few local known druggy thugs and not looking happy about it. Dunno what's going on there myself.

The 1st event; 100 Metres. All competitors line up; Herring whispering something to a few neighbouring lanes and they look worried. Fred's sweating a bit, but that's to be expected with the level of competition here. The starter gun bangs and they are off. Ackee gets an early but a few of the spectators catch his eye and his showboating slows him down. Little Timmy Rice is as nippy as they come, and promptly burns it, only to be tripped up by the dodgy Herring. Fred somehow manages on the outside lane to avoid all this and scrape through a close victory.

The 2nd event; the High Jump. One at a time they leapt up high, poor Timmy not having a chance at this but Ackee eases past the limit set by Fred putting him at joint top with the Cheese. Hans looks suitably pissed after a poor attempt at invading the landing mat.

The 3rd event; the Hammer. Fred and Ackee struggle a bit at this, but the bulging axe-arms of the butcher come through and take it into a sudden death playoff.

Timmy Rice looked at this point utterly devastated; even more so by a bunch of people in suits who dragged him away into a van. That all seemed a bit odd at the time, and rightly so; he was found 2 weeks later in Dan-Yr-Ogof caves stuffed behind a stalagmite. Poor lad.

The event turns into "Sudden Death", and Fred Cheese, Anglo Ackee and Hans Herring are called to do a decider; the 400 metres. This was going to be a good test of endurance for them as they were all showing signs of tiredness at this point.
All line up, the start gun is fired and they're off! Ackee takes an early lead but is again put off by the local female teenage supporters; Hans and Fred keeping level until the last stretch. Fred manages to get a nose ahead but Hans tries tripping him up. Fred stumbles, but keeps his balance and digs deep to come back and win by a nat's cock on the finishing line.

On the podium everyone cheers for the big Cheese, and he wins his well-earned reward; a big lump of dough on his head and boiled on the stove for 30 minutes.

And that is simply the hardest I've seen anyone try to get dumpled.

I apologise for nothing....
( Jeccius Steam Borderlands 2 junkie, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 8:14, 3 replies)

Dead easy...
When I was but a lad on the cusp of adultery and it became obvious to all that I was finally starting to take an interest in girls, the job of sex lecture was left to my thoroughly brilliant father and his best mate, my Uncle Tony.
Both of them had clearly led interesting lives because the advice I got was:
Safe sex is using a false name
Excelpet fleacare gets rid of crabs just as fast as an embarrassing trip to the doctor
and best of all
If you need to break up with a girl, just stop seeing her. Avoid her calls, avoid her and eventually she'll get the message.
"Because girls," Uncle Tony informs me wisely while handing a 13 year old a beer, "are not like genital warts. They actually will go away if you ignore them."
( difficultchild, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 8:13, 5 replies)

Anyone want to rent a Marine?
I've given this loads of thought: any ladies out there that need to get the message across to your beau that you want to stop seeing them, gaz me. Help finance my trip and I will come over in my fatigues, battle rattle, boots and "USMC SNIPER" t-shirt and do the deed for you.

The way I see it: it's a win win.

edit: I can act too, so I can pretend to be your new boyfriend and we can pretend snog. No extra charge for the pretend snogging.

Form an orderly queue ladies.
( Citadel Because the world needs less morons, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 5:56, 19 replies)

Lovecats.
I was going out with a girl for three years. Not so long but it sure seemed it at the time. I wont go into why because this will just turn into an unending stream of woe and I'd much rather keep it light.

She was an anal sex freak which, although I am partial, can get annoying when it's every single time you get jiggy.

Something had to give.

It was my penis.

Now don't worry it didn't snap off inside her or anything, it just stopped performing as it should. She was very sympathetic at first... offering me sympathy and trying to be gentle. But, as soon as she proffered the ringpiece I would soften like a flump on a hot day.

I was making myself think of tiny kittens.

Kittens crawling on my cock and licking my balls. Mewing and scratching with barely open eyes. Tiny little innocent blind kittens covered in semen and lady-juices.

Some people out there might get the opposite effect from those kind of thoughts, I dunno, whatever floats yer boat... For me it had the most instantaneous softening effect.

Her dissatisfaction led to her sleeping with one of our housemates. I'll never forget the day he came and confessed to me. Poor guy had to get it off his chest I guess.. "I've been sleeping with ****. I'm really sorry man..." and a whole load of other blah. I wasn't listening, I just had three words running through my head over and over and over. "You Poor Bastard"

Four days later I moved out, 3 months later I left the country. I still get the odd email from her about how much she misses me and loves me. I occasionally print them out then screw them up into a ball and throw them in the bin.. just for pleasure. I haven't had to think of the kittens for a long time now and it feels great.

Length? Have you ever tried to use a six day old kitten as a sort of novelty condom? Well don't. They're too fucking small.
(Ktulu O'Ryleh float like a turd, sting like chlamydia, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 4:51, 3 replies)

I wanted out...
...but kept getting dragged back.

Coincidentally, there was a thread on the only other message board on the internet that isn't utter pants, about the subjective offensiveness of the word "cunt."

Smart folks over there, pointing out that no lesser a light than Chaucer used "queynte" without negative connotation, and that if you decided it was a nice word, it was.

I said that I was in a relationship I didn't have much invested in, and offered to test the theory out.

"Geenie," I said that night, "you are *such* a cunt."

"What?!"

"I mean that in the best possible sense of the word."

"Okay, dick."

A bit anticlimactic, actually.
(Larry_Mudd, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 3:10, 1 reply)

Also, I suppose this counts....
I suppose I never got dumped technically, but I still had to try damned hard to escape.

A few months back, I went to a race night at my local. For those that don't know, this is basically a night where you bet on horse races (either shown on the big screen or, once, performed by us ourselves using wooden horses, which was by far the best race night I've ever been to!) to raise funds for whatever the race night's for. Anyway...... afterwards, I toddled up to another pub and on walking in the door, found myself suddenly being spoken to by a lady who had been at the race night too.

Now. I'm quite a shy feller around ladies, but it turned out she had known a cousin of mine who died, and sort of knew a fair bit about me and my life, for some reason. I was a bit well oiled and I chatted away with her for a while before I noticed the wee probes.... have I got a girlfriend, stuff like that.

Now, I was really quite drunk. You know that way you only remember certain things? Well, I can't remember for the life of me what her name was but I remember she had lovely eyes. Awwwww. Unfortunately, I also remember she had a huge arse. But I was drunk and I had been single for ages, so when she followed me outside there was.... erm.... a brief few minutes of grappling.

She then tried to drag me off round the back of the pub, very publicly, to the great amusement of my mates. Well, that's just not really me, you know.... especially as my relatives were closing up the pub at the time and my mates were all baying at me and shouting stuff like "Gooooo Onnnnn! Gerrin!". I declined and suggested we go on to my mates house for a drink. She then proceeded to, for want of a better word, beg. I am not used to this at all, but it sort of put me off even more. She wouldn't come with me to my mates house, and apparently her friend wouldn't let me into her house. Her friends started to wander off, and so did mine..... still glancing back occasionally and shouting "gerrinthere!". She just kept saying "pleeeeease, come on... pleeeease" and wouldn't let me leave so I had to do something.

I put on the most dazzling display of acting I could conjour up at the time. I should have earned a BAFTA at least. She had told me she knew I'd been married, so I started to talk about how hurt I was. I actually used the phrase "damaged goods". I called up all the cheesy lines from every soap I could think of, I was looking at my shoes the whole time and I think I even pulled off looking as though I was going to cry..... by that point my mates were out of sight and I just wanted to catch them.

"All right" she said "give me one more kiss and I'll let you go". Let me go! I had no idea I was a hostage, but the terms were reasonable so there was another brief grapple before I trotted off. She asked if she could see me again as I toddled off down the road and I said "course you can. You know where I live don't you?" She said no.

"Aw well. I'm sure I'll see you around. You live here don't you?" I knew she didn't she lives a few miles away, she had told me.

"no"

"Awwww. See ya then." I even waved.

It wasn't until my mates pointed it out to me that I had talked myself out of a definite bonk that I felt a bit of a twat, but she was freaking me out. Besides.... I don't think I'd have lived it down if I'd been beasting away and my uncle John had come out the rear door....

I wish I wasn't so sensible all the fucking time.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 2:29, 2 replies)

Personally, me myself.........
I don't have to try too hard. You remember last week I had a whinge about being dumped, among other things? Well, now I can whinge some more. I'm feeling tons better now, by the way, but on with our tale.

I have been dumped spectacularly before, so this was a bit of a damp squib. I'd been sort of on-off seeing this girl for about 8 months.... when I say on-off, she'd have flare-ups of fancying me, badger me with texts (not that it annoyed me, mind) and drop little hints at me.... as soon as I bit, we'd go on a date (it was always just one date), then she'd go all weird and I'd not hear from her for ages.

It took approx. two times of this happening for me to realise these little quiet spells were almost perfectly balanced with the state of one of my best mates relationships with his girlfriend. If they were going through a rough patch, I wouldn't hear from her. If they were getting on well, I'd suddenly find I had an admirer, handsome suave devil that I am.

Oh, I see what you're thinking! You think she was using me to get to my friend, eh? Oh no.... she was apparently really keen on me.... her friends were apparently bored sick of hearing about me (this was all news to me, mind), it's just that she seems.... er.... keener on the other person. My friend, by the way, cannot stand her. He cannot stand her as he has got it into his mind that she fancies his girlfriend.

Yes. She dumped me so she could hang around and wait for my mates completely straight girlfriend to split up with her fiance (I forgot, they're engaged) on the off chance that she might turn all lesbiany. I had it briefly explained to me early on that she'd always known she was bi and it didn't bother me.... I just thought I'd have a teensy bit more time before she'd flounce off after some sapphic fun.

She also felt, after a month of silence, that she'd better send me a text and ask me to meet her so she could let me down gently. I let her off the hook by explaining I wasn't that stupid and not to worry about it. She has absolutely no idea that either I or my friend (or his fiance, for that matter) have the slightest clue about any of this, despite going all doe eyed whenever my mates fiance is near, and sprinting to offer a shoulder whenever they argue.

Ah well. I'm still mates with her, I suppose it's better things never got any further because we get on well.

So..... erm..... yes, I don't really have to try all that hard, I seem to manage it without any effort at all. Bloody wimmin.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 1:51, Reply)

easy peasy
"you know... if i got pregnant i'd probably keep it"
(ladyintheradiator, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 1:37, 2 replies)

u are all so mean...
however after a lifetime of being dumped i decided to get my own back, when my ex decided to finish with me, 2 days before xmas. i was heartbroken and angry but stupidly took him back 4 days later.

i later discovered (as accidentally got copied in on an email by one of his mates) that he had been seeing a mutal friend of mine behind my back while i was at uni. she demanded that he finish with me, so he did. then decided he wanted me back, and finished with her.

i found this out afew months later... decided that rather than telling him i knew about them, decided to sleep with someone else. it made me feel better, however decided that i couldnt be bothered with going home anymore. so during an evening session on MSN just ended it there and then didnt even speak to him!!! he told me that i was a bitch for doing it over the internet and broke his heart (ha! now you know how it feels)

worst thing is? he married her a few months later and last week i was dumped again with the whole "its not you its me" line and "i just wanna be single"...

what a cunt
(VodkaMargarine When there is no Brandy Butter..., Fri 6 Jun 2008, 1:25, 2 replies)

naked in public? you bet!
i once dated a guy due to the whole "your best friend is sleeping with my best friend" deal. it wasn't long before i discovered that, as well as the unsettling skin complaint, he also suffered from epilepsy and alcoholism. hardly a catch.
i tried dumping him, but good old pity stopped me every time. also, he refused to accept that i wanted to break up with him and would put it down to my hormones. i was the first girl he'd ever dated and he'd decided he loved me. it wasn't love, it was a lack of options.
anyway, after about 2 months, i went on holiday without him. the wonderful time i had(plus the cute spanish guy i shagged) made me realise that i couldn't bear to be with him anymore.
but how was i going to get rid of him? that's it! public humiliation! i was throwing a party when i got home with all my duty free booze, so i'd make a scene and dump him there and then, right in front of everyone.

things did not go exactly to plan.

i and my best friend debbie had the party all set up by 7.30, but nobody was getting there till 10, so we decided to have a little drink.
and another.
and another.
and another.
by the time everyone got there, we were half pissed. 'twas an epic party nonetheless, it even resulted in me being evicted, but that's a story for another time. everyone was drunk and drunken rash boy was all over me like, well, a rash.
this is where things get a bit fuzzy.
i was living in a large bedsit, so my bed was in the same room as the rest of the party. at some point, being horrendously drunk, i decided that sex with my boyfriend would be a good idea. unfortunately, his epilepsy medication meant that he was not at home to mr. hardon. according to my friends, i sat, completely naked, on the edge of my bed, screaming at him that he couldn't get it up with a concrete injection and was neither use nor ornament.
the party broke up quickly after that, but not as quickly as our relationship.

length? 14 years ago and my friends still rave about that party.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 6 Jun 2008, 0:49, 6 replies)

Was evil beyond belief
I was going out with someone who I decided I hated, as he was a bit strange, so I slept with 3 of his friends in the hope that he'd find out (I told all our mutual friends I'd done it), but he didn't twig on. Gaaaah! All that sluttiness for nothing!
(SpongyMonkey is an honorary East Anglian on, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 23:46, 69 replies)

She made me a cake.


Mind you, it tasted like shit.
(sorry., Thu 5 Jun 2008, 23:02, 9 replies)

:(
I think my dad is expecting to be dumped as a parent and this makes me most scared and unhappy and ... scared, and I don't know if I'm being bratty or if it's something else.

He's always been very old fashioned in his morals - not even from a religious perspective, he just is - and doesn't approve of living together before you get married, and also dislikes it that I'm moving heaven and earth to get a job to stay here with Mr Maladicta, and he doesn't approve of that in spite of having met and liked him.

In spite of his disapproval, he sent me some money to get set up here - I don't want to go into how much, but enough, and made it clear in the email I've just opened that he's disappointed in me for selling myself short and believes I want my parents out of my life, when I would never want that, but because I'm choosing to stay here and be independent instead of moving back home, and now I feel like the worst daughter ever. I'm scared :(
( Maladicta, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 22:47, 11 replies)

It's taken me several hours to realise...
That this question isn't about trying to do a poo...
( Captain V, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 22:32, 3 replies)