She wasn't bonkers ...
But her mum was.

It was one of those fantastic moments. You just look at each other, and you know you have to do it. Right then. Right there. I was holding her tightly, kissing her fiercely and with passion, ignoring all the noises around me. Within just seconds I'd wrenched my shirt off and removed her t-shirt too. Up came her skirt as I kissed her and pushed her onto her bed. I was pulling down her underwear as I held her and kissed, removing my clothes quickly.

I fucked her senseless. It was so passionate, and I loved it, and I was so sure she loved it too. She must have.

I don't know why her mum was screaming "SHE'S ONLY 4! GET OFF OF HER!" the entire time though, while she was tied up at the other end of the room.

She was clearly at least 6.
(ratthingbazzterd, Sat 18 Nov 2006, 0:23, Reply)

I think that this fad of posting answers to the previous week's QotW on the current one...

...is definitely taking things too far.
(Generator cannot be named for legal reasons, Sat 18 Nov 2006, 0:17, Reply)

My current girl,
I fear I may make her into a nutter as she is very gullible, meaning I couldn't help convincing her:

Cows lie down when it's about to rain so it takes longer for the rain drops to hit them.

Sharks have claws.

I couldn't ride a bike and when she saw me ride one for the first time have me shout "PRAISE BABY JESUS! IT'S A MIRACLE!".

That I sleep with my eyes open after lying for about 20 minutes trying my hardest not to blink and making my most convincing heavy sleep sounds.

However I have been with some psychos in the past, one for example told me she had epilepsy which entitled her to burst out crying when she wanted, burst out into hysterics for hours, scream that the worlds evils were my fault, go into a 'smacked-off-tits' state and respond to nothing I said and also told me she had a brain tumour. Well when she started to get really bad I passively forced her to go to the hospital to make sure she was okay, turned out she had never had epilepsy or a tumour and had been lying to me for 2 years.

Ah well until my girlfriend's sanity finally snaps after I tell her ricicles are actually harvested by the little guy on the front of the box, she's beautiful and equal to me in the bonkers stakes.
(Vikingheadache, Sat 18 Nov 2006, 0:04, Reply)

"Look at this photo. He Made Me Cry. And my mother cry. Are you going to cry?"
I pulled this girl, Jackie. She has big tits. She was known, rather unoriginally, as Jackie Bigtits. She was gorgeous, half-oriental, with long flowign black hair, alluring exotic eyes and great big tits.

Somehow I managed to keep my natural girl-repellent in check and found myself back at her place, kissing and fumbling like a good'un. We end up on her bed, with only her panties and my boxers separating us. All is going well. I'm going to fuck Jackie Bigtits! I'm already a legend for getting those jubblies out, when the lads find out I fucked her too, I'll be a cooler than fucking Fonzy!

Everything is red hot when she, for some unfathomable reason I can't see now, gets up, wanders over to her dresser and grabs a photo. She shows me the photo. It's an Indian man, 50-60, in white pajamas with a floral necklace.
"What do you see?"
I tell her what I see "An old Indian guy" said with more than a hint of 'less talking, more fondling'
"No," she says more forcefully "What do you SEE?"

I realise now that I should have seen said something, anything. But all I could muster was a shrug. A silent shrug.

"This is guru Mbalmlalmbala [or somthing]. He's amazing. When I saw this photo, I cried. My mother cried too. Do you want to cry?"

Again, all I needed to do was make a noise, anything remotely sympathetic, encouraging. Again, she looked at me with those deep eyes, willing me not to fuck it up. And again, all I did was shrug. Silently.

Two, or five, or ten, or thirty minutes later, in a atmosphere so edgy you could have mistaken yourself for being in a morturary, we got dressed, and I left.

And walking home at 4am all I could think of was how that fucking old Indian twat had stopped me fucking Jackie Bigtits.

Found out a few weeks later she's gone gay after me. So not only did I get zero kudos for getting the Bigtits out, I got ribbed for being denied sex by an Indian Guru *and* for turning a honey into a lesbian. Thanks, Guru whateverthefuckyournamewas.
(TheCrownPrinceOfZanzibar, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 22:34, Reply)

Um
Just realised - I've been the bunny boiler once. No stalking though - just texts and emails over the period of a few months.

Long story - details of which are witheld for a number of, er, personal reasons. She's still my friend though as I'm normal now, really I am.

This is apt as I'm good looking and she's a stunner :-)

I'm so sorry Jo......

Length joke here to cover all 3 of my posts - Heh heh
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 22:17, Reply)

Impersonation
Our lady had a political streak. Despite the (then) honourable member for Hartlepool, Peter Mandelson, being as gay as a left-hand thread, she thought that she could convert him to appreciate teh puss. Not that she'd actually try, it was just a fantasy of sorts, which I'd tease her with quite regularly. Except that teasing her wasn't enough... I found that I had an uncanny knack for impersonating his slightly wierd voice, and without any warning, talked dirty in Mandelsonese while we were engaged in naughties one fine evening. She speared herself on my knob, gripped me like an enormous spider and didn't stop until my poor podger felt a freshly butchered pork-rib. It wasn't right for days. i do wonder who was the scariest wierdo, her for having odd labour-party fantasies or me for egging her on. Since it's me telling the story, though, it has to be her fault.

No apologies for length, it was specified by the previous administration, ha ha.
(Jack Rarebit ...We like chillies, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 21:45, Reply)

ComplexStuff
Neither. You're just the male version of me.

Which is a very scary thought in its own right.
(littlesunshine licked your blinky diodes on, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 21:31, Reply)

he Kidnapped. My. Dog.
I'd been going out with the psycho for about 6 months. I was 16, him 18. Looking back it was clearly my fault,he stole my diary and decided I still had a thing for my ex (I didn't).

That night we went to a club and he drove me home as nice as pie. When we got to my house, 3am ish, he started his car alarm and put his hand on the horn. My dad woke up and came downstairs and the dog followed him- he grabbed the dog by his collar, ran off and put him in the front seat of his metro and drove away. (I should mention the dog was 13 years old and infirm....)

We were on the verge of calling the filth when he came back. I think he ran out of ideas, and remembered that he was allergic to the dog.

I dumped him the next day but that didn't stop the once a week or so sneaky shags.....a girl's got needs and hey I wasn't that attached to the dog! (and then I got back together with my ex..... serves him right)
(Madeleine Remnant, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 20:52, Reply)

Oral Sex
I met her in a pub in New York's Greenwich Village...a pub called "Swifts" and a great place to snag the ocasional lonely Tower or British Airlines FA.

Anyway, I met her there. Absolutely pissed. She and I traded numbers and the hell began almost immediately.

She worked in entertainment, for a venue/troupe that is world famous...and she was a looker! Italian American...lithe, long dark hair, olive skin...damn near to perfect.

Her job had her going Upstate to Albany, NY to do a performance for the State Capital and I was asked to join her. She left a key for me at the hotel front desk, in an envelope with my name on it. This was going to be only our SECOND date.

So I leave Manhattan and scoot on up there, check into the hotel, get her spare room key and biff off to the show to watch her art.

Afterwards: pub, light dinner, back to hotel.

Nervousness (I really like this girl and didnt want to screw it all up!) and she slips into bed and after some frolicking about, she has removed her bra and panties and sexily dropped them on the floor by the bed...looking up and asking me "Are you coming to bed or what?" Her sneer of cold command should have been a warning.

I stripped fast as I could and swan dived into the bed...and the kissing began. It was good...though she bit my lower lip a tad much...things heated up...then it got weird: She told me, in her best impersonation of the dark lord Satan, to "BITE" her.

Like a dandy in a white suit eating buffalo wings, I nibbled on her neck a bit...right up until I felt her fingernails DIG into my back and that Satan voice return with the following words "BITE ME HARDER!"

Many of you know I am a graduate of a military college and a former US Marine...I am no shrinking violet. So I launched into her as if I was a pilgrim father on the first Thanksgiving dinner of venison and cornbread.

Ocasionally I would lift my head to take a look at the tracks of teeth marks I was leaving on her neck, shoulder, chest, back...admiring my work...she looked like the discards from a velociraptor picnic...and every time I bit her, she moaned with greater energy.

It was at about this time that I realized that her moans were pretty rhytmic and rapidly increasing. Shortly after this realization, she was 'done' and she pushed me up off her, causing me to lose my precarious balance (I was working on biting an area that was tough to get to from the Missionary Position) and I fell off the bed. It was then that I realized, that while she had just achieved the Big O, I was nowhere near that point because I was too worried about biting her effectively.

She rolled over and went to sleep. Fair enough.

The next day, I took my time driving home to NYC, parked my truck and headed into the apartment, checking my caller id, I had received 27 calls...in a little over 5 hours. ALL of them from the same phone number: Hers.

The next day? 25 attempted calls. One voicemail: as if she hadnt just called me over 50 times in less than 30 hours: "Hey Citadel! Just wanted to see what you were up to! Give me a call. I Love you!"

I had my home phone number changed within 4 days.
( Citadel Because the world needs less morons, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 20:43, Reply)

What?
Between boyfriends and out on the pull....I go clubbing with my younger cousin...she was 14 I believe....We get to the club - on in Northampton, can't remember the name...anyway...she hooks up with friends and current man...I'm left alone. In a nightclub. In a town I don't know. With no one I know. So, what do you do? You try out what Cosmo says works....you pick out the very best looking guy in the place...check....and then stare at him...check...when he looks at you - as they always do...check...you smile, slowly....check....According to Cosmo he will then come over to buy you a drink...Bloody hell! This actually works!!! Woohoo! And there was me thinking that Cosmo was only any good for knitting your own orgasm!


Anyway, very good looking man (one I would never normally approach - out of my league!) comes over to me....Oh! feeling frisky! He starts to chat....feeling friskier! We go to quiet bar....he buys me a drink....coming over all warm....he spends half an hour talking to my breasts...yes, I know that they are on display (sort of) and (at that time) look very juicy..etc. etc....but my face is a few inches higher....


Club closes...need to find cousin...she has tongue down throat of random man...drag her away...need to find taxi to get home to Auntie's house....Breast man following like a dog on a lead (now there's a thought!)...we get to taxi rank.....he decides that now is time to get down to business....much passion in the bushes....he asks me back to his....hmmm, tempted, very tempted....Decide to get a conversation going (why?) anyway, ask him what he does for a living...."Can't tell you" ....what? Yep, he remains silent about his job and makes random suggestions that he is a big time drugs dealer....yeah, right.....


So anyway, back to his...fun ensues....just as passionate as the fumble in the bushes....get a taxi back to Aunties...all fine and dandy until the following morning.....He is standing outside Auntie's house....What the fuck is going on? Go to speak to him....he refuses to talk...but then does (?!)...undercover stuff....oh, fuck off! Mad as a tree!



But length? Oh yes....and Girth...give it to me!
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 20:27, Reply)

Not Gertrude...
Strangely enough, there was one before the earlier first post story (Woo!) - So Gertrude wasn't the first hottie (Ok, Gertrude wasn't a hottie after all - see my earlier post about that psycho).

Anyhoo - I digress.

Let's call her Esmerelda.....

It was wayyyy back in the depths of time at college - She was a hot brunette (Ok, so she wasn't hot really, but I thought she was) - She had a great body and seemed totally normal.

When should I have heard alarm bells?

When my college friends started deserting me because they hated her? No.
When she attacked any college friend who talked to me? Especially the women... No.
When I found out that her uncle had abused her as a child** ? No.
When she decided that she was gay? No.
When she got a girlfriend who was manipulative and hated me? No.
When she got a gay bloke friend who hit on me repeatedly? No.
When she, her insane girlfriend and the guy tried to convince me I was gay? No.
When I went to Uni and she stayed with me and upset my new Uni friends? No.

When Gertrude took me to one side and told me that Esmerelda was a freaking nutter?? Actually, yes. Gertrude did do some good I guess - that and I thought I was in with Gertrude.

Esmerelda had come up for a long weekend - she stayed the Friday night and came out with us and she was damned annoying to boot - I had words with Gertrude and on Saturday morning I literally dragged Esmerelda down to the train station, put her on the train and never saw her again.

Ok - hands up to this one (I hang my head in shame) - I did speak to her a few times and I went for the out-mentalising her by telling her that I loved her.... Worked though :-)


** True story - it meant that I stayed another 2 years....
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 20:19, Reply)

It's not about me, but my mate Paul.
He was in this massive band in the 60's... you may have heard of them but I can't mention their name.

Well... He married a one legged former smut star a few years ago... and you can imagine what happened...
( Master Of Turnips. Only gays and morons believe in ghosts., Fri 17 Nov 2006, 20:16, Reply)

Outmental the mental
The only way to deal with a mentalist is to be more mental than them*. Logic and reason don't work; you can't tell them their behaviour is inappropriate, you have to show them. Escalate the madness till they back down, if you've gone as far as you dare and they're unfazed - run, run like the wind.

Story? OK, when I was much younger and foolisher I very briefly went out with a girl who wanted to take things slow with me and not go all the way, but had no such qualms about fucking some guy she'd just met when we'd had a minor row. And then expected us to carry on seeing each other as though she'd done nothing wrong. I don't know if all Welsh women are like this, but I'm not prepared to run the risk of finding out. This is why I turned down Charlotte Church (I'd do Ruth Madoc though).


*may not work on actual mentals
( Beve The Spaniard broke off his horse's head, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 19:59, Reply)

Rugby Player
Sexy, all of the sex, just...amazingly fantastic.

Asked me to give him an enema using only an Evian water bottle. For the thrill. Deadly serious.

Two minutes after he asked me, he was my ex.
( Methylene Blue - electrohead, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 19:55, Reply)

Schoolgirls
When I was a convent girl....sooooo many years ago. There was a girl in my year called Maria (yep, start all the jokes...) and she was absolutely crackers...actually most of the boarders were (boarding school - I was a daygirl, despite the two hour daily travelling time - threatened to run away if parents sent me to board...although I could have had a full scholarship if I'd done that...)Aannnyway....Maria shared a dorm with my mad but lovely friend Julie...Julie is barking and Mr Chickenlady is terrified of her...especially as she keeps making passes at him...ahem...

Back to the story...so we are all about 13 and Maria is going through her daily 'mad as a barrel of squirrels' lark...which involves climbing out of the dorm window onto the stone balcony (Victorian house used as the boarders house)...oh, and this balcony was above the front door...right where visitors could view the ongoing saga that was Maria....So Julie - royally pissed off by Maria (as usual...Julie narrowly avoided expulsion - she decked another girl because she wanted to go home, but the other girl thought that the smack with fist was justified, so kept quiet...nice school!) Jules follows Maria....Maria is now sitting on stone railing of balcony....."I'm going to jump" says Maria...."So fucking do it!" says our lovable Jules....Maria bottles out so Jules pushes her.....OH MY GOD!!!! Don't worry...it was only about 12 foot and Maria was fine.....In fact she came to stay with me for the weekend not long afterwards....and kept me up until 3am playing 'monopoly'....well, if that's what you call it.....she was banker....
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 19:53, Reply)

Nuts?
Maybe I should give an example...

Girl I was dating recently (I moved cities but wanted to remain friends - think she expects a re-kindling of romance). Wants to know EVERYTHING about EVERY girl I talk to.

I had an argument with her the other day on the phone; she had had a bad day because she´d been an hour late for work.

"Why?" I asked.

She´d recently lost her mobile phone, which usually served as her alarm clock. Ok, so far so not-insane.

ComplexStuff: "Why don´t you get an alarm clock?"

Girl: "I don´t like using batteries"

CS (expecting some recycling/environmentally conscious-based answer that at least I could have partially understood): "why not?"

Girl: "They don´t look pretty and I don´t like the smell."

Thus a debate insued as to utility vs need for asthetic pleasure (smell? WTF?!?)

She got upset because I wouldn´t accept she had a valid, rational argument. Mad as a sack full of squirrels!

Still, as long as she doesn´t read this I´ll still be getting some next time I go home...
(ComplexStuff Was confused by life on, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 19:36, Reply)

Squaddies
It was sort of a blind date...his mate was shagging my mate....I met him from the train...he farted in the car....eeeeewwww!! and laughed afterwards.....I gave him a blowjob in the B & Q carpark (what a slapper!)...didn't realise he hadn't meant that at all...he was only after a quick feel...oops...he was a virgin...oops....only stopped when the security guys turned up......


Um....who was the bonkers one? He was very good looking....model material....but gay....


Length - OH. MY. GOD. (Actually tooooooo much - yes guys....you can get too much of a good thing...particularly if they don't know what to do with it.....) Girth....not that impressive...but I was only a convent girl.....
( chickenlady b3ta's very own Elizabeth Taylor, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 19:36, Reply)

crazy cock touching massive bangers bitch.

long story short.

Mental girl in shit local night club batchwood.

Grabs my cock, grabs mates cock, grabs other mates cock.

Turns round smacks randomer in face 3/4 times for no reason, doesnt explain.

Gets back to cock grabbin with bit of added tongue in my mouth.

Was absolutely mental, but gave me a raging hard on, and had a very large set of chesticles.

Please dont judge me for letting an obviously mental lady touch me on my rude bits.
(fwack bang on it, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 19:25, Reply)

Works both ways
Nearing the end of school I'd started fancying one of my long term friends, we were getting on better than we used to so I thought it had a chance.

Then came the phone calls, the constant answer phone messages and emails and the hysterics.

Fortunately I got better and stopped doing that after a while.

If she's reading this, Happy Birthday by the way.
(thePontificator, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 19:23, Reply)

Misfortune
I often meet girls I am attracted to. This attraction often lasts right up until I find out they like me too... Then I´m always compelled to think:

"they like ME?!? There´s GOT to be something wrong with them..."

Then I usually find something wrong with them.

Am I bonkers? Or is it just the entire female population?
(ComplexStuff Was confused by life on, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 18:38, Reply)

Sorry
I was that girl.

I am much better now. I am not on the medication any more and I've had a lot of therapy.

And I've apologised to the guy I was mainly a nutter at.

Still great in bed though... you can't remove all the mentalist traits, you know...
(Clarabelle is reverting to type on, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 18:34, Reply)

Never dated her, but she was bonkers.
I was fresh out of college, and excited to have my first Big Boy real job. As adjunct faculty, I'm not strictly a professor, but I can work with students, which I was looking forward to doing.

There was a grad student who worked down the hall from me. Because English was not her first language, I volunteered to help her with grammar, spelling, etc. on her dissertation.

Out of appreciation, she started leaving bowls of jelly beans, candy or other little gifts outside my office door. Okay, maybe that's just her culture. But soon she was coming to my office once every couple hours, and wanting to stay and talk; at first about her project, but then about whatever. I started telling her she shouldn't be coming down here so much, I didn't have the time to sit and talk all day. But she kept coming. As did the gifts. Soon, I was getting full plates of (wonderful) ethnic food on my desk. I finally had to tell her it wasn't appropriate to for a student to be giving a faculty member all these gifts.

So she started leaving them at my home. Garden gnomes would show up mysteriously in the night, Shel Silverstien's "The Giving Tree" was sitting on my doorstep one evening, and it got to where I dreaded the sound of footsteps in the hallway at work.

She started calling me two or three times in an evening, sometimes in tears wanting to know what I meant by something I said, and why I was toying with her feelings. I'd know it was her when I picked up the phone, there was a silence, and that accent calling my name made my heart sink. I finally told her never to call me at home anymore.

So the office visits increased. Being the nice guy, I told her I would still help her with her English, but NO GIFTS!

She came into my office one day, and we talked about her project. She finally asked: "Do you know what Friday is?"
"February 14th," I said, afraid of, but knowing, what she was getting at.
"And that is?" she asked, excitedly.
"Valentine's Day," I sighed deeply.
"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" she said and started making the shape of a box in her hands and nodding.
"NO GIFTS!" I snapped at her.
"Why are you being so mean to me?" she burst into tears and wailed.
"I'm not mean, I'm just being firm. You need to leave now." With that, I pushed her out of my office and locked the door. Which, brilliant me, meant that I was trapped. I spent the next 15 minutes barely breathing, listening for her to leave. I didn't hear her leave, but when I finally got the nerve to look out, fully ready to call the campus cops, she was gone.

I got home to about 5 phone messages, all of which were her in tears. I unplugged the phone and the next morning sent an email threatening harassment charges on her if she tried to contact me through any means for any reason. Surprisingly, she listened and that was the end of it.
( setimret likes his metaphors mixed, not stirred, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 18:17, Reply)

help im trapped with a wierdo!
I once met a guy in my regular pub where all my mates would gather of a weekend. he seemed like a nice guy, told me he had split with his long term g/f and was not looking for a relationship, just wanted to take me out abit & get to know me better & see what happened. nothing scary there.
So a while later i agreed to meet him and after a few drinks and a game of pool we went to his house for a smoke (the type that would get u barred from most pubs). After commenting on his fantastic book collection (as he had hundreds of them) he told me they were mainly books about witches as he used to be one (eh? alarm bells start ringing about now)and starts to tell me all about his coven & the day to day habits of a witch....all very strange (and not atall comforting in the white witch/one with nature sorta way).
Now i'm pretty open minded, but this was a first date after all. He became so wierd i nearly ran out of his house, but settled on making a lame excuse & never seeing him again.
I think I had a lucky escape.
I saw him recently sporting a tramp-like beard......brrrrrrr
( catswhiskers the cats mother, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 18:14, Reply)

I am fortunate enough...
...to have never gone out with a crazy person.

That said, my last girlfriend thought that losing a game of Tetris against me merited curling up on the bed and sobbing for half an hour. What's worse is that I apologised for winning.
(Squirminator2k is funny 'cos he's ginger, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 18:03, Reply)

There have been many
In fact, enough to warrant this

And I'm not naming any, for fear of being murdered.
( Hankster, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 17:41, Reply)

hmm.
In a bar. Handsome, charming guy after a few drinks and a lovely conversation asks Dixon if he wouldn't mind going somewhere "a little more private". A short car ride later and they're at guy's flat.

"Let me put some music on" says guy. Something classical - all very nice. A look around the flat sees he is a man of culture - lovely antiques, Opera CDs, etc.

"I need to get something - get naked and lie on the bed"

Dixon does - actually nervously wondering what "something" was.

Guy returns into room, naked except for trainers and some kind of instrument used for polishing wood and proceeds to sit on Dixon's face and empty his balls on his chest.

"Now get out."

Confused and blue balled Dixon says "eh?"

"Get out - I'm not having your cum in MY flat."

After a few power games of him standing by the front door and pretending to think about unlocking it, and Dixon asking him how many breaks would he like to have in his jaw exactly, Dixon finally flees into the night knowing it could have been much, much worse.


I really have been very lucky in the "lunacy" stakes...

Oh, except my ex who crushed my self esteem over a protracted operation lasting 13 years - and thought Mein Kampf was a book on relationship counselling
( Dixipoos Bye Bye Blackbird, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 17:36, Reply)

Lunacy? None thankfully.
Sorry for being boringly normal, but there ya go.
( TBL I posted this on, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 17:17, Reply)

i should have called it quits after the tongue biting
But i got her phone number and made the mistake of telling her where abouts i live. Got home from we are scientists last week to find her sitting on the sign for my street pissed as a fart. i probably shouldnt be seeing her tonight but she seems keen, and im not one to turn down easy sex.
(fwack bang on it, Fri 17 Nov 2006, 17:13, Reply)