I knew a girl once. Took her to see India.
At the Oval.

Wish I could remember her name though. She's still got my wallet...
(Woodlouse say it with flowers. Send her a Triffid, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 12:25, 2 replies)

We had a really rubbish shag, and then I accidentally farted on her
Then I couldn't stop laughing. Then she asked me to leave.
( rofl harris, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 12:23, 6 replies)

Try not to break up at Alton Towers
The trouble with Alton Towers, or any big theme park I suppose, is queues. Big long boring queues snaking back and forth to cram as many waiting people into as small an area as possible.

So this is how I came to be fenced in with what must have been 200 people in front of me, another 200 people behind me and railings either side of me on the other side of which were yet more people. Oh joy.

There wasn't much to look at aside from reading the occasional witty T-shirt in the queue. I seem to recall the ride was called the black hole or something like that, so we couldn't even watch the ride as it was inside a big warehouse and we were outside in the cold drizzle that always seems to be Alton Towers weather on my visits.

Imagine if you will that the person you're stood next to is your pear shaped ginger girlfriend and tempers have been brewing all day. This is not the time to decend into a hushed voice arguament ultamatum.

I however did exactly that. So I got a slap round the face, one of those full contact loud snap noise ones that left half my face bright red and stinging while the staring onlookers made the other half of my face equally red.

Trouble was, penned in as I was there was nowhere to go. I couldn't get away from her or the onlookers so had to continue to queue in awkward silence for another 30 minutes until we made it to the ride itself. Praying to get separated and sit on different cars or even different goes on the ride, you guessed it we were ushered to the same car and had to sit pressed into one another on this dated rollercoaster. Awkward just doesn't cover it.

As the screams of excitement from other riders echoed round the dark emptiness I sat in silence, too angry to enjoy the ride or show any emotion at all. Of course the day dragged on even further especially when faced with the obligatory 2 hour drive to get home from there. Yeah I may have been a sod at times but I couldn't just abandon her miles from home.

Seriously don't break up at Alton Towers, it really spoils a day out.
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 10:59, 11 replies)

Artistic differences.
Well - that and my amazing smack habit.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 10:50, 4 replies)

We were on a break!

(kitescreech still here, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 10:34, Reply)

She broke my heart ...
so I ripped hers out.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 9:18, 3 replies)

My mate dumped his girlfriend after she shagged the bloke in the next tent at Glastonbury.
He already knew she had a loose definition of monogamy but hadn't realised she was thick enough to think he wouldn't hear the grunts and moans through two layers of tissue-thin nylon.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 8:44, 2 replies)

Went to a festival in Germany
and while in a tent in the middle of a field surrounded by all my mates and people she had only just really met I said I didn't see it working out and left the tent.

Worst thing was on the way back our first flight was delayed and we all missed the connecting flight home and all of us were stuck overnight in the airport and had to draw straws to see who would get the first seats home.

I drew a short straw so was on the first flight, her it was gonna take most of the day so in a vain attempt to look someway like a gent I swapped with her. I know it would be a better story if it was me that fucked off before her but ya know honesty and all that crap.
(Samantha Bricks Better half done a poo on, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 8:20, Reply)

lost it all
I moved from the US to Paris with no job just to be together with my girlfriend of 4 years who had gotten a year long job there. After a few months I ran out of money, and not having found anything to for work do as a non-French speaker, I moved back to the US and tried to start over, depressed, jobless, having sold my car and left my apartment before the trip, but at least I had the thought of carrying on for her to keep me going. Then she started seeing a Parisian guy and broke up with me.

I was so devastated at this point that I couldn't do anything- I stopped exercising, eating, going outside, had to rally all my strength to keep applying for work at all. I mostly just lay in bed, not even getting up to clean my place or go to the bathroom.

One day I woke up after not leaving the bed for some time, my bladder woefully engorged, and due to my morning tumescence and my position of repose, I actually ended up accidentally pissing into my own mouth.
( the prick of misery pierced my foot on a spiiiike on, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 5:14, 14 replies)

We shagged for a bit and I gave her a yoghurt.
Then she went to the airport and flew back to America. Quite tame really.
( clockworkrat has nice pants, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 2:37, 11 replies)

Pride and Plastering
I met a very nice girl once, well she seemed that way. She had a cute smile, a flippy fringe, nice legs and a charming ground-floor flat in London. The first couple of dates I was very gentlemanly but after a while nature took its course and I stayed over at her flat.

"Your bathroom light switch," I said. "Needs fixing." It was, to my trained feel, a bit spongy, and required quite a sharp jerk to come on, so to speak.

"You're a boy," said she, ever hopeful. "Fix it." She seemed to be saying it to shut me up rather than actually expecting me to do anything. I immediately, and fatefully, resolved to show her who was the new DIY expert in her life.

The next time I stayed over I woke up extra early, scuttled off to the nearest hardware emporium (via the local bakery) and returned in time to wake her up with the doorbell, bearing the necessaries for a romantic breakfast and (so I thought) an even more romantic bathroom-fixing session.

Unfortunately for our hero pineapplecharm, the bastard who'd installed the old switch had done so before plastering the ceiling, meaning said switch was deeply sunk into the hardened surface and wasn't going to come off easily. Not wanting to make too much mess, I rather hopefully held up the switch part of the new unit to the wall-mount part of the old.. but sadly the new screws didn't bite the old thread, and the old screws were too big for the new holes. So I took it home again.

The next time I stayed over I brought the new switch back but, in the meantime, had drilled out the screw holes so it would mate up to the old 'heel' so securely cemented into the fabric of the room. Alas, I then discovered that the switch had been sufficiently weakened by my drilling that the screws crushed it to the point of cracking in two.

A third visit was required. Now bear in mind, gentlemen, that each of these occasions was predicated on a sufficiently seductive date to secure an invite back to her flat. This is no easy feat when your motivation is merely to have vigorous carnal relations; when you also have a secondary agenda of bathroom light repair it becomes a masterwork of deception and cunning.

It was shortly after visit four, during which I resorted to chipping a large chunk of her ceiling out with a screwdriver, that I suddenly realised that, to put it gently, I wasn't quite as keen on the old girl as I had been a month or two before when we'd met. All she ever talked about was her sister's kid, and her rich ex who had taken her travelling. And she wasn't nearly as pretty as I'd thought. It was a time to move on. And this left me with something of a dilemma: the bathroom ceiling was now a half-destroyed eyesore. Would I man up and realise that lying to her was much worse than leaving her with a minor repair outstanding? Would I bollocks.

Yes, folks, I continued to date a girl I'd completely gone off - conniving my way into staying over three more times (replastering, undercoat, topcoat) before, finally, announcing the job was done, cadging a lift back to Berkshire and then, during a meaningful chat in the park, ditching her as bluntly as I could.

I must say, it was a pretty good job, even if it took a while.

The switch, I mean, not the relationship. I fucking suck at those.
( pineapplecharm D d M Y, H:i, Fri 13 Sep 2013, 0:40, 11 replies)

Ha!
Blokes on the internet pretending they've had girlfriends and are not virgins.
I'm going to enjoy this QOTW!
(Docofair, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 22:29, 2 replies)

Bastard
I went out with an artist for three years and thought he loved me. Then one day I get the phone call to say he'd gotten engaged to his other girlfriend, (she was tall, blonde, willowy and very talented...I'm short, dumpy, and "beautiful on the inside", no surprises but it doesn't make it any easier) and he wanted me to know as I was such a good friend... Fucking cried for days.

She later broke up with him and gave the ring back, and the prick then has the nerve to tell me that in the same breath as asking me to be his girlfriend again.

Er, no. Swivel hard and fast, dear boy.

Happily, I'm now with my soulmate, so the cnut did me a favour in dumping me. :)
(wolfpussy will nibble your fingers on, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 22:23, 12 replies)

Brought it upon myself perhaps, but still
I had thought my backpacking days were over.

That was until I met James in my new job. James was a company IT guy and all round generally decent chap and he would sit there and quietly absorb the travellers' tales Sarah, another co-worker, and I would share. One company night out, in the pub, James revealed he'd been listening to our tales and wasn't getting any younger and wanted to jack his job in and do the working-visa year-in-Oz thing. I obviously had loved my wandering, did I want to go with him?

There was a problem - I was in a relationship.

Luckily, knowing I was a dromomaniac and that I still had the travel bug in my system, the girlfriend didn't mind if I went. We had phone, we had the internet and could keep in touch. Two other friends had heard about the plans and wanted to quit their jobs too so they could come along (though they'd be joining us four months in) and she'd know I'd be with them. So off James and I went to Oz.

James, it quickly turned out, hadn't been on a holiday without his parents and had never been abroad in his life. He couldn't cook, couldn't do much of anything as it turned out and wouldn't lift a finger to do anything that needed doing. I was the experienced traveller, obviously I had to do everything. Setting him up with the tax authorities? I did it for him. Setting him up with the reciprocal medical aid? I did it for him. I even had to get a spider out of his room at one point. Okay, this *was* Australia and their spiders apparently eat people but this one was tiny.

We soon went our separate ways. I made a new circle of friends via my temporary job and being on my own and ostensibly single, at a glance, I started to get offers from Australian ladies and female backpackers both. However, knowing my girl was waiting for me I informed them, with much regret, that I had a girlfriend and was unavailable. Six or seven girls I knocked back (though one of them was a flake, a tarot card reader had said her future hubbie would be a Brit and I showed up the very next week). The others were wonderful girls though.

I remained faithful, in spite of temptation, in touch with my girlfriend the whole time; enjoying what I imagined would be my last serious bout of travel before settling down.

Funnily enough, things never turn out how you imagine though. I didn't last the whole year, I cut it short with three months still left on my working visa. When I got home the girlfriend had a kid. Not mine either.
(Dildo Bugger destroyed a ring on, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 21:20, 36 replies)

I have no idea why this made me think about marital difficulties.
metro.co.uk/2013/09/09/feral-pig-drinks-18-cans-of-beer-fights-cow-and-then-passes-out-drunk-under-tree-3955542/
( Amorous Badger NAKED BEA ARTHUR PHOTOS 4U, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 20:18, 3 replies)

Once
I had a shed that had developed rot, so I had to break it up.
(Eukanuba, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 20:17, Reply)

www.b3ta.com/questions/habits/post777147
( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 20:01, Reply)

"I don't believe you."
"I don't believe you."
A bint I bonked for a while once said that, when I told her I didn't want to be her boyfriend. Why would I lie about that? I was confused by her claim - maybe that was the plan?
Anyway, I had been trying to be the gent, and let her down gently, but she refused to believe me, followed me around, showed up at places when I was out with mates (like waiting in the lobby of the cinema when I'd gone to see a film) and so on - I came home one day and found she'd washed my car while I was out... this woman I'd dated once. .. a week or so after I told her it was over...

Anyway, my patience, tolerance and ability to stand such things in silence is strong, but when it breaks, it breaks catastrophically.
I took a deep breath and started trying new tactics:

"Will you please fuck off?"
"I don't want to ever see you again."
"You are repulsive, really, and you're acting like a crazy stalker now."
"We have nothing in common."
"Having sex with you was chore."
"You're 19, and you have bingo wings."
"Your taste in music is pathetic - what? Yes, I said it was a chore: I'd rather wank. Oh - right, bye then!"

Turns out you just have to be honest.
( Invisible Wizard - 9th Level Pissant, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 19:46, 2 replies)

Still turned up to the gig
I broke it off with a girl once after a six month relationship. I was to do a DJ set in a bar that night and she still turned up, on her own, and sat there crying the whole night. Wasn't happy about that one. Decided not to drop the Jean Grae song "How To Break Up With Your Girlfriend" as it would probably have been in bad taste.
(Mr_Lew, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 19:36, 6 replies)

She thinks SHE'S the passionate one :(

( drimble he'd been white, he'd been black, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 18:54, 2 replies)

She kicked me out of the flat two days ago, as it happens
We aren't broken up yet (and I hope we won't be) but this is going to be a delicate few weeks.

Edit: And there's the breakup. One year, six months, thirteen days.
( MatJ LOOK, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 18:23, 6 replies)

Don't worry about it
There's plenty more room under the patio
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 17:29, 2 replies)

Remember that time when ###### was in scotchland trying to boff that ugly whiny one off /talk
and then somebody that was probably me made her upset on the internet and she sent him home. That was lol.
( Dr. Shambolic je suis charlie, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 17:05, 17 replies)

Basically, Winona Ryder is starting to annoy me.
These constant cries for attention and then refusing to answer my letters and calls are pissing me right off, and I'm thinking about leaving her for Natalie Portman (now).
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 16:55, 18 replies)

has anyone said b3ta yet?

( Monty Boyce, My cheese game is strong, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 16:55, 1 reply)

I avoid this sort of problem
by never getting emotionally involved with another human being, ever.
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 16:55, Reply)

Work...
We had a young student working with us for a few years, she was completing her law degree and had joined the company to do some work to gain experience in litigation.

Most of the single guys at work were pretty much smitten with her, but all of them were to be let down because she had already had a stable relationship that had been going on for a number of years.

About a year or so into her employment, the flame dwindled and after a small argument, mutually agreed that it was no longer working and they agred to go their seperate ways.

They continued to flat share in their two bedroom place until they both found something more appropriate for single living, and a few months later they had fully gone their seperate ways.

This is where it got interesting. It appears that he felt vindicated in posting pictures that were taking of her, legs akimbo in bed, pleasuring herself on a revenge porn site. Over time, this knowledge became widespread and with great speed had spread to our office. The information rapidly spread amongst every male working their and before long we'd all seen these pictures.

Eventually, one guy decided that it'd be sensible to do the right thing in the hope of getting a shag, whilst she was still on the rebound, and tell her about the website, pictures etc.

He didn't get anywhere. Christ knows why he'd want to, the pictures had revealed that she had spaniels ears for tits and a lady garden that looked like she was receiving oral from Leo Sayer.

More happened, but it's even more boring. Fuck knows why I thought this would be interesting to be honest.
( Muns, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 16:50, 4 replies)

I once bought a girlfriend a flash-light as a gift.
We split up shortly after. But as far as I know, she still carries a torch.
( JeffTheDogFucker Can you dig it?, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 16:39, 9 replies)

i broke up with a girl, just after xmas.
she'd got me an awesome xmas present too...
it could've been worse, I coulda spoilt her xmas and not got the present,
nobody wins in that version.
At least in this one, I got a great gift and she got lots of free time,
win-win right?
( Ya What Skiddlyboop, Thu 12 Sep 2013, 16:29, Reply)