I was addicted to love
But it tore me apart.
(Generator cannot be named for legal reasons, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 17:04, 4 replies)

I buy...
...The Sun newspaper almost every day on my way to work.
The problem is, i read just about everything in it even though i know it's all utter shite that makes me extremely angry!
I also read the Daily Mail when it's around and that just makes me feel dirty.
(killpay lurking like no-ones business!, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 17:01, Reply)

LESBIAN PORNO
I am addicted to lesbian porn. Which is strange because I am not a lesbian.
(powervator and NONE SHALL PASS, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 16:52, 6 replies)

PORN
Seems to flick a switch in my head that makes me (temporally) happy. However due to the VAST amount I've looked at over the years it's kinda killed sex. Gaaaaa.
I'm hoping that by looking at it less and less that normal sex will resume and I'll no longer have the desires to *insert extreme porn thing here*. Plus I might not always be single if I kick the habit so there probably is an upside to this!

My other addiction would be downloading every film, album or game that ever existed. I've got far too many games that I'm never ever going to play, films that are rubbish and albums that sound awful - but I really like the idea of having the perfect and complete collections so I keep going.

If I was a robot none of this nonsense would have happened!!
(JethroTull, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 16:49, 2 replies)

My addiction
Afternoon all.
It seems that my addiction has got to be B3TA and sickipedia, which is unfortunate seeing as im currently working on a reception desk in a hospital, logging into banned sites and constantly smirking and trying to stifle my laughter as i book sick people in for appointments and keep getting odd looks!
This could also go with the question as to why im going to hell!
(killpay lurking like no-ones business!, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 16:08, Reply)

I'm addicted
To being contrary to everything that is going on. Whilst some people love Christmas songs, I prefer this little playlist:

www.youtube.com/watch?v=TSlpCBek1_M (Tom Lehrer's Christmas Carol)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=HTGlUMvbhSw (Al Yankovich's The Night Santa Went Crazy)

And finally...

www.youtube.com/watch?v=jPIbLManOzs (Kevin Bloody Wilson's Oi Santa Clause You Cunt, Where's My Fucking Bike?)
( jim_bob can herd cats., Sun 21 Dec 2008, 15:46, 1 reply)

Funny Alert (Note: lack of)
Here's my addiction. "Not-being-alone".

I've been married before and am now divorced.

Since being divorced I've been in and out of a number of relationships which, with the benefit of 20:20 hindsight have been wholly unsuitable but I've stayed in - and near-bankrupted myself - because I hate being alone.
(Eds Meds Mathskillz=1,Socialskillz=0, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 15:12, 4 replies)

Drugs! Poverty! Rehab! Clean!
Those of you expecting one of may tales of drug-fuelled whimsy may be in for a surprise!

I have just (two weeks ago) been released from a resdential rehab centre. Over the last ten years I've been a regular user of drugs and drink and over the last few months things became uncontrollable and I lost the plot.

These are the highlights:

I was living day to day, sleeping where I could and was based in a flat with no heating or hot water.

Crack and heroin - not clever.

I sold all my possessions.

This year I earned £47,000. I have nothing to show for it. I very nearly got fired and would have if I hadn't been so very good at what I do for a living. They sent me to rehab instead of getting rid of me completely.

I lost interest in my appearance.

I was involved in a lot of crime, and am facing fraud charges next month. Possibly a prison sentence.

I was acting in an out of character way pretty much all the time.

The people I was knocking about with were scum.

I'm out now, working hard, and have earned £3,000 since then. I have a lovely house, some electical gadgets and a whoile load of clothes. I have heating, and appreciate these little things.

Drugs; they're not big, they're not clever, and they can fuck your life completely.
( disasterprone "Pyjamas caused the Holocaust", Sun 21 Dec 2008, 15:07, 14 replies)

This isn't funny at all
but my boyfriend of a month told me last night that he's addicted to heroin. Which was a nice surprise.
(clumsyeloquence is a girl, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 14:52, 19 replies)

I'm not addicted to anything.
You're all just weak.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 14:04, 6 replies)

Exactly what constitutes...
An addiction to porn? I have quite a bit of porn, I like it very much (Mrs Hatred is also quite a fan) but under what circumstances is it an addiction rather than an entertaining diversion?
(Leonard Hatred briefly did some work on, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 12:41, 5 replies)

Outtake TV
Cigarettes. Been smoking for ten years now. I don't like it anymore, it tastes gross, it plays havoc with the state of my hair and skin, and it smells. Bleurgh. And the doctors always have a stern word with me
'You shouldn't smoke. You have asthma and you will suffocate and die', 'You shouldn't smoke, you are on the pill and you will get a blood clot and die'. I really wanna give up. But I'm too lazy and stubborn to do so.

Weed, about 9 years on and off. As much as I enjoy it at the time, I wish I'd never started. I wish I'd learnt how to live my life without having to go home for a smoke when things got tough. Ah well.

Salt and Vinegar crisps. I can get through 6 packets a day sometimes. Every now and then I have to go cold turkey because my stomach doesn't like them as much as I do. There nothing like licking the tangy sharp flavour off. Nom nom nom. I want some now.

Today I have come to realise I have a sickening addiction to Outtake TV on Watch. It's shit and not funny and pointless. It's been on for 4 and a half hours now and I just can't bring myself to turn it over. Help.

And I have a wonderful addiction to Mr Lady. There's nothing like the excitement I get when I know I'm going to see him, even after 2 and a half years. I'd do anything for him, and life without him just seems wrong.
Like all good addictions.
Yeah, I'm a wee bit smug, but I'm not sorry.
(Beacon, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 12:28, 2 replies)

Space
I'm addicted to space. Got fed up of living in a box.
(Mucky has squinted at the screen with one eye shut since, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 11:54, Reply)

I used to be addicted to crack.
Finally I had to face up to what it was doing to me, when I drove for two hours just to find a building site I wasn't barred from.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 11:24, 2 replies)

one word
Stumbleupon.

Dont look it up its worse then b3ta, bash, 4chan. It is the equivalent of crack and heroin combined with the intertubes.
(seshmarls, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 10:36, 3 replies)

as below
but it isnt mine...
(Monsun beery wanderlust, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 10:15, 4 replies)

Insulin
Yep I fuckin love the stuff, I'm on four fixes a day and I aint never givin up.
( acab, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 10:08, 7 replies)

Three
1. Ice-cream; a fact more than adequately demonstrated by my somewhat corpulent figure. Any that is left in the freezer will be consumed.

2. Gadgets. There is simply *nothing* like purchasing some shiny gizmo, delicately removing it from it's packaging while revelling in it's unspoiled newness. Unpacking a new iPod or laptop is a simply erotic experience.

3. (as I think someone has already mentioned) The West Wing, typically consumed in weekend-long marathons.
(absurdistan, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 7:34, 1 reply)

Chippies
I love a lot of unhealthy foods it has to be said. Kebabs, KFC, Mcdonalds, Pizza, Pork Cylinders (ok no more Butterfieldisms.)

But none of them compared to my love of a good old fasioned British chippie.
Since a kid I used to love having a sausage supper or a fish supper as an occasional treat.
However I discovered at the age 15 not to mix booze with chippies. Trouble was on most Friday & Saturday nights the temptation was too great. We would drink ourselves silly then realise the local chippie would shut at 11pm (at least I would realise this.)

If it so happened for whatever reason I didn't eat one it was considered a disappointing night.

King Ribs, Fish, Sausages, Haggis, Black Pudding, White Pudding, Mock Chops, Pizza, Pies, Curry Sauce, Gravy Sauce, Sweet & Sour Sauce. They all meant the same grease wonderland to me.

A few years later I realised my habits hadn't changed even although I had a few 'dry' spells.

I had been on the sauce for around 24 hours with a few hours kip of course. Having realised I hadn't eaten much at all I decided to get a snack. Well I presume that's what I thought. Apparently I had 7 single portions of sausages to ease my drunken hunger.

Next morning I was still struggling to breathe.

I could fall into my old ways in a (fast) heartbeat.


It was worth the abuse I got for it as well I might add
(muzzvsworld, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 6:59, 2 replies)

My mate Edward.
I've known Edward since we were both about 4. His Dad and mine were posted to the same RAF station, and being children of a simiar age, we started playing together.

Edward hated his name. He always preferred to be called Ed, but whenever he wound me up or we had an argument, I called him Edward, or on a very few occasions, when I had no regard for life or personal wellbeing, Ted. He fucking HATED being called Ted.

One day when we were both about 12, we'd been given 50p each by Ed's grandma who'd come to stay so we could nip to the Naafi and buy some sweets. This is back in the day when Naafis weren't run at extortionate prices by Spar. So off we toddled. Now, I LOVED cola bottles. I still do. Always a good option when I need to become hyper quickly. So, I had a plan to splurge my 50p on 50 of the finest cola bottles the Naafi had to offer.

Anyway, we got into the Naafi. Ed went first to buy his sweets. Now Ed liked cola bottles, but not nearly as much as he liked fruit salad. I may ahve been partial to cola bottles, but for Ed, fruit salad was like boy-heroin. He adored them. I, on the other hand, hated them. Hated the taste, the smell, everything.

Ed bought his sweeties, 50 fruit salad, and walked off chewing one. The fruity aroma was already turning my stomach. I purchased my cola bottles and out we went to sit outside.

"Wow" Ed said. "Your packet looks huge." (phnaar, phnaar). "Let's have a look".

I like a fucking tool, opened up the packet. Ed peered in.....and spat out a half-digested fruit salad into the packet of MY FUCKING COLA BOTTLES. I could have cried. 50p of cola bottles...ruined. I had no choice but to throw them away. As Edward laughed and stuffed 10 more fruit salad into his mouth, I turned to him and shouted.

"You're a dick, Ted."

/coat....
( Undercovercarrot got done for gross misconduct on..., Sun 21 Dec 2008, 6:53, 3 replies)

Lots of stuff
Wanking, hentai, actual porn, spending too much time on the internet, poking people, failing and bad jokes.
(NERDYLURKER is attempting to divide by zero, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 2:31, Reply)

When I'm at home...
I can't seem to prevent my hand from ending up down the front of my boxers. Apparently, according to my housemate "If you must know, I'm twiddling my pubes" is not a valid explanation to the question "What are you doing with your hands down your pants?". It's not like I do it in public.
( Slippery Mick ‏, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 2:00, 3 replies)

Lining things up....
...If I'm looking out of a window, I *have* to keep any upright part of the frame in focus and try and line it up with a vertical outside - say on the house across the road, or a lamp post. This involves craning, stooping, peering and squinting, and I get a small sense of satisfaction in knowing that either the window or the reference point isn't exactly plum upright (should it indeed prove not to be so...)

I've been doing this since I was a kid, and have absolutely no interest in horizontal alignments.
(Mousy Tongue ...Generally bemused by life..., Sun 21 Dec 2008, 0:26, 4 replies)

Medically proscibed drugs did me
I suffer with chronic pain after some extensive and painful surgery a couple of years ago that severed a few nerves. That surgery saved my life, but it came at a cost that although not always fun has had some silly moments.

The surgeon says wisely "Oh yes, some patients can suffer with nerve pain, take these drugs!" and he hands me a script for Gabapentine, a Neuro-suppressant and anti convulsant. I start shovelling them down my neck as instructed and start to get the odd side effects of Zombification... I was at work in my Lab and was working on some Electronics with a soldering iron in my hand when I passed out and fell from my chair to the floor. Work went Health and Safety Bananas and I was not allowed to work with hazardous materials unsupervised.

A few days later I was sat at my desk and everything went dark. When I woke up I was sat on the floor leaning up against my Fume cupboard with my Mum who worked in the same school looking really worried.

Turns out I was allergic to Gabapentine so I had to stop taking it. However my dosage was so huge, if I just stopped I was at risk of seizures. Hmm... seizures or black outs, nice choice. Fortunately I did not suffer a seizure, but I was quite ill.

Pain was still immense so I was proscribed Pregabeline. Another variant of the Epilepsy drugs above and I was assured that I would be fine. Cue more zombification and drowsiness. This time the dose was huge and yet the pain did not stop. I cried on my GP who informed me that I was suffering with depression. Add to my drugs a dose of the lovely anti depressant, Citalipram and I now needed a box to tell what drugs to swallow and when.

Nothing was working and I was also being bullied at work. Things came to a head and I was put on the sick for twelve weeks.

Time to come off of the drugs. Cue much vomiting, nightmares, flu like symptoms and more vomiting. I was so nauseous that anything could set me. I puked in the street so often, I lost any embarrassment of my foul bodily functions, with my new girlfriend (who bless her nursed me through all of this shit and still claims to love me!).

I am now clean, but it took three months to get rid of the addiction to proscribed drugs. However my pain returned and I collapsed in my new job after a week. to their credit, they have got used to me now and when I hit the floor, they don't worry any more (well not much because they are a really lovely bunch) because I explained I just need a time out to rest for a minute or two to get my breath back.

So I decide to see my new GP and tell him what is going on. He looks concerned, amused when I tell him of my chemical adventures and he sends me off to the local pain clinic (first appointment next week!), but not before writing out a script for another neuro-suppresant. This time it is bloody Tegretol.
I do wonder what part of him was listening when I said that I did not want any more dependency forming drugs?
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Sun 21 Dec 2008, 0:11, 2 replies)

Maybe a compulsion rather than an addiction
I can't stop cracking my knuckles. I've been doing it since I was about 10 years old and I'm now in my mid 40s. It annoys other people and it annoys me and I know it can't be doing me any good but I just can't help it. When it enters my head to do it I've simply got to or it drives me mental thinking about it until I eventually succumb. I wish I could stop.
( Ramsay Tupper, Sat 20 Dec 2008, 23:33, 6 replies)

Online dating
I just love it, but being young, open minded and attracted to older men, I find it FAR too easy to find success.

So now I pretend to be an overweight middle aged lorry driver from Croydon called Kev who has an interest in younger women.
(Lolitaslittlesister, Sat 20 Dec 2008, 23:32, 1 reply)

Status Updates
I am addicted to reformatting my thoughts into concise facebook status updates.

It is the most ridiculous addiction but I can't stop doing it. It's like an internal monologue announcing my every move to all the imaginary facebook friends that live in my head.

Instead of normal thoughts, I think things like 'Mr. F just drank a really nice cup of tea' or 'Mr. F is thinking probably that she should have washed these socks before wearing them again'.

I am a secret version of those people who only refer to themselves in the third person.
'Mr. F is ashamed to be in the same category as these people, even if only secretly'.
(Mr._F is not actually a man- this username is a lie!, Sat 20 Dec 2008, 22:50, Reply)

this isn't a story
The dilemma of "what's right" vs "what I want" it has always turned out for the best doing "what I feel is right" even if that ends in heartache and trouble and fear. Those are feelings at least. No feeling is nothing is death.

"heart"(whatever that means) over logic.
(Popiella Jones, Sat 20 Dec 2008, 22:40, 5 replies)

I have had..
.. one pint of stella, two pints of summer lightning, one pint of Tangle Foot, and a further pint of summer lightning. I get home to find my parents are full flow in dinner party mode and there are several bottles open. I help myself to a glass of damn good ribera del duero (classy red wine) and am going for another one. Later on I have half a bottle of wine in my cupboard and more of whatever the old badgers leave lying around. Along with a couple of grams of good skunk.

As addiction goes... Happy times!!!!! *

*I might internally contradict this message in the morning/early afternoon tomorrow and hate myself for it, but right now it's all woohoo!
(raymond "three griddle pans" luxury yacht lovin' the christmas action, Sat 20 Dec 2008, 21:55, 10 replies)

Reading on the toilet
When I was young it would always take a long time to produce my tangy butt nuts so I would take a book in with me to pass the time.

Now if i'm going to have a dump I always need to have something to read. This has resulted in my bathroom looking like a branch of WHSmiths and also means I never have to worry about running out of toilet paper.

This is not a problem unless I go to someone elses house and they are not considerate enough to provide reading material. I can strain till I nearly blackout but nothing happens. My bowels don't work and I end up having to read shampoo bottles or hairspray cans to get some relief.

I sometimes worry about being caught out in the wild with nothing to read and dying of constipation.

On the plus side no one asks to borrow books from me.
(Bo Nidle Coming back in from the cold., Sat 20 Dec 2008, 21:38, 17 replies)