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This is a question Where Did It All Go Wrong?

Woocfot asks: Tell us all about that turning point in your life when it started going downhill. Yeah, that drunken conversation with my dad when he suggested I become a civil servant. Dammit, I could have been an astronaut

(, Thu 28 Feb 2013, 11:32)
Pages: Popular, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

Birth?
I've been trouble from the start it seems.
Age of 5 a friend and I got a digger started on a building site across the road from our houses. I also painted the next door neighbours volkswagen beetle a fetching colour of green about the same age. A couple of years later I went out at night on my bike to play on the river near my school and in the grounds of my school, again a digger was involved - taken home by police. Age 10 - truancy, drinking, sniffing, smoking, stealing, vandalism, I was a one boy crime wave. Spent several says off from primary school destroying a large abandoned house, sawing bannisters, smashing windows, trying to cut down trees, sniffing petrol we found in a lawnmower, pooping in the living room. It's a common thing with people breaking in to places to poop there, I think it's the adrenalin that stimulates it.
(, Sun 3 Mar 2013, 1:36, 7 replies)
It was
just after that time when our ancestors took a different evolutionary path from the last common ancestor we shared with chimpanzees.

or last Thursday if you live in East Anglia.
(, Sun 3 Mar 2013, 1:25, 4 replies)
It all went wrong
when I made one of three or four popular culture references on an internet forum and the bad man called me names.
(, Sun 3 Mar 2013, 1:01, Reply)
The Green Eyed Monster
It all went wrong upon opening that first can of Skandia Green when I was 16yrs old (30p a can back in 1989, cheap as chips!).
This has more or less been the rollercoaster that alcohol has played upon my life since then;
Dark Rum - Oh my God, why the fuck did I have to drink that - mmmmm, not to bad when depth-charged in a pint of Moiphees.
Vodka - Sweet baby Jesus, what am I doing to myself - mmmmm, this is wicked when mixed with Irn Bru!!
Jack Daniels - Crap on a stick, why, just why?? - mmmmm, I'm sophisticated as fuck me, a psuedo Yank!
Whiskey - Drinking this makes me pull my cum face!! - mmmmmm, I'm seen as the mature gent about town.

Skandia Green - that's where it all went wrong!
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 23:22, Reply)
When I spotted two young women
in micro-skirts walking towards me one November evening and the first thought that crashed across my mind was:

'I bet their legs are cold.'

I was 39.
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 22:10, 2 replies)
It all went wrong QUIZ
It all went wrong for who or what when...

Bernard Butler left
John Nathan-Turner took over as producer
they let Joel Schumacher direct
he went electric
they changed the name to Snickers
Jonathan Ross took over as host
they cast Pierce Brosnan
Phil Collins took over as lead singer
he let his Californian wife join the band
he called that woman a bigot
they answered that distress call (several possible answers)
Robin Bailey replaced Arthur Lowe in the title role
Stephen Greif wasn't available so they cast Brian Croucher
Briana Corrigan left
a bloke fucked a monkey
all their specially tuned guitars and shit was nicked
they decided to rebrand it and reduce the alcohol content to 4.8% in order to 'offer the customer clarity'
they privatised it (many possible answers)
he didn't get a second series
they decided to make a fourth movie almost 20 years after the previous one
they made Paddy McGuire a sympathetic character after two series of him being a terrifying psychopath
Terry Bickers left the band (he's since rejoined, hurrah!)
Fred Freiberger took over as director (two answers)

That'll do for now though I can probably think of loads more... as can you.

Answers on a postcard please.

[Awaiting inevitable November 1991 jibes. Oh you cards!]
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 21:06, 64 replies)

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(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 20:41, 2 replies)
Testing out my brand new, super-powered NdFeB magnets
By attaching one to the bottom of my mum's pin box and holding it upside down over my lap.

The place I went wrong was when I forgot the existence of brass pins.


.
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 18:05, 2 replies)
when i was young
it seemed that life was so wonderful, a miracle, it was beautiful, magical
and all the birds in the trees, well they'd be singing so happily, joyfully, playfully, watching me
but then they send me away to teach me how to be sensible, logical, responsible, practical
and they showed me a world where i could be so dependable, clinical, intellectual, cynical

yeah, round about there, that's when it all went tits up.
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 17:30, 4 replies)
When I wouldn't STAY ABOUT FROM HIS BINS.
:(
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 15:26, 9 replies)
November 1991

I got Carumped.

I was tall and slippery.

I see that as the beginning of my slide into fatuousness, philately, raging homeyness, sexual despondency, manic crying and persistent inability to slap reality.

I would myself, except I'm too much of a fop. Also, the prospect of another KFC, and a new series of CoCo pops, keeps me going. Yes I am that. It's the only way to cope. Constance distractions.

Now for another sausage (my 4th of the evening and by no means the last) before my weekly wipe.

Before anyone accuses me of swallowing custard , I'm not. These are the facts; this is how I deal. On these terms, I am happy
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 14:48, 6 replies)
My life has been greatly enhanced
ever since I discovered Mumsnet, courtesy of reading B3TA intra-user insults.

There are some rather uptight sweary Mums out there. Some of the exchanges would put rivalries on this site to shame.
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 14:00, 15 replies)
Same as everyone else
Oh, somewhere around 2008.
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 13:15, 1 reply)
At some point in September/October 1985
But I really fucked it up for my parents come June 1986 though
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 12:39, Reply)
Finding out
about the second law of thermodynamics. On the plus side it made tidying up seem like a waste of time.
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 11:20, 1 reply)
First time I met with my ex-boss was the job interview
I just knew there was something not quite right about him, very much an air of second-hand-car-salesman, too smiley, dead eyes, that sort of thing. He turned out to be devious, but not smart.

At the beginning (it was a new company, starting from scratch) he was clever enough to accomodate the employees, but even with that, within the first month a steady trickle of resignations began. There was little confidence in the chap as a professional, his incompetence was obvious. But he had state and private sector backing, oh yes. He had managed to charm those folks very well. very silver-tongued. Charmed them enough that they trusted him absolutely.

And so it was to be that over the next ten years he privately ran up a huge 'expense account' (read: stole a lot of company money). And this was on top of his already ample salaries. and on what did he spend all the money? quite simply: tat. He eventually blew over €700,000 on rubbish. An awful, awful person.

A combo of stupidity and many enemies was to be his downfall: for example - he was stupid enough to trust one or two people enough to give them access to the books. They waited and sharpened their knives, eventually giving it to him right between the shoulder blades.

The climax of the long-awaited court-case was just before last Christmas, in which the judge stated that the guy's arrogance and disdain for the law had not helped in her final decision which was payment of €100,000 by the end of this year, or face 5 years in pokey. Of course there will be the appeals and all, but looking at him on the tv cameras outside the court, he looked tired and broken.

Many of my colleagues feel sorry for him. 'I'm sorry', I tell them, 'but I cannot feel pity for pure stupidity.'
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 10:15, 3 replies)
Trust.
For my mums 50th about 20 years ago I decided to take her out to lunch. I was earning nicely and for me this was 1 of the first times I could give her a treat by buying her a nice, "proper" (expensive) lunch. I took her to a swanky restaurant overlooking the river. It was around this time that I was starting to ask serious questions about my dad & his heritage.

We were most of the way thru a nice 3 course meal. The worst thing about the meal so far had been a couple of investment banker types who had spent their entire lunch shouting into their brick-sized mobiles (1992, 'memba when?).

Then my mum tells me that there's something she needs to tell me.

A little background. Just quickly.
My mother and her husband moved from the UK to Africa to work - both working for lucrative copper mining companies. After a couple of years they split up. About 4 mths. after I was born my mums husband died in a fairly horrific crash where a driver went thu a red light and T-Boned him (drivers side).

So.
Mum tells me that her dead husband, whose surname I have, is not my real father.
My real dad is a bloke my mum met thru the local rally car club.
Whose middle name I share.
He left his wife (& young son) to move in with my mum. She got pregnant to him. They lived together & I was born. Then she caught him in bed with her best friend and kicked him out. (Once a player...) He returned to his wife and had 4 more legitimate children. Around the same time my mum's husband was killed in said car crash.

All of a sudden the dead bloke I thought was my dad wasn't my dad & I have 5 half siblings. 1 of which I used to play with fairly regularly when I was a kid.

My mums reasoning was apparently twofold - 1st she was a single mum in the 70's, if my name matched her married name it was easier and less to explain. Also my dad is South African whereas my 'namesake' dad was from the UK which meant that I qualified for dual nationality. & importantly (for my mum) a British passport.

I wrote a very long letter to this bloke (pretty sure my mum had given him the heads up anyhoo) telling him who I was, where I was coming from etc. I got a note back telling me that "I have two parents who love me." But specifically asking me not to get in touch with his kids. In the mean time I'd also got in touch with other members of his family.
His younger sister, my aunt is also a "black sheep" - they're typical Afrikaners and she has her own reasons for being "different" but talking to an aunt I never knew I had was a real eye opener.

End of the day that lunch was when I finally found out that you cannot trust everyone,no matter how close to you they are & no matter what you think you may know (despite your suspicions) you cannot always rely on those you love to be honest with you.

Not so much when it went downhill as when I learnt that you really have to chose who you trust.
EDIT: I could easily get in touch with my half siblings but... If my old man doesn't have the balls and they're none the wiser, why bother. I'm pretty sure I'm not his only bastard child.
(, Sat 2 Mar 2013, 6:52, 37 replies)

When I turned 28
(, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 22:43, 4 replies)
No wonder it all went wrong for Dr Skagra when he got 'clopped.'
www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Clopped
(, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 21:09, 29 replies)
November 1991
was the month before December 1991.
(, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 20:33, 5 replies)
When the cord was cut and I started to breathe unaided.

(, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 20:26, 2 replies)
prrooprrooprroop!
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(, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 18:55, 14 replies)
Mum and dad went for a drink one night and left my hotel window open.

Bindun, surely...
(, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 17:13, 7 replies)
Pesky kids?

(, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 16:54, Reply)
Back then it all seemed so bleak
The misery, the mania and the hopelessness was really piling up. I never thought I would make it past thirty, it was all so self indulgent.

Then in 2003 I went into therapy, life went down hill from there. The mania faded, the misery passed and a new feeling of hope was born.

My admitting to being a cheerful Gothic type was my downfall, I got a suntan, I stopped listening to the Cure and Siouxsie every day and I even stopped wanting to sleep in a coffin.

If I were not so happy, I would kill myself!
(, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 16:41, 4 replies)
I never should have put my kids up for adoption...
....blah blah blah Star Wars.
(, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 16:37, 4 replies)
One of my workmates, R, is proper fucking gannet.
One day, a relative brought in a HUGe cake to say 'thank you' for the care their mum had received on the unit. did any of us see it? Did we fuck. Greedy cunt had gone for his break first and scarfed the lot. As I said at the time 'Where did it all go, Ron?'
(, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 16:36, 2 replies)
lots of little ways
"go on, it's only a ciggy. try it, you'll be fine"
"weeeeeelll, ok."

"it's just a glass of cider. you'll like it, i promise, it doesn't get you drunk."
"weeeeeelll, ok."

"come on, we'll just snuggle."
"weeeeeelll, ok."

"it's only weed, you'll have a laugh. try it!"
"weeeeeelll, ok."

yes, i am a weak-willed fucker.
(, Fri 1 Mar 2013, 16:29, 2 replies)

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