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With the Pope about to visit the UK, what better time to unburden yourself of anything that's weighing on your mind by posting it on the internet? Pay particular attention to the Seven Deadly Sins of lust, greed, envy, pride, posting puns on the QOTW board and the other ones. Top story gets to kneel before His Holiness's noodly appendage, or something

(, Thu 26 Aug 2010, 12:47)
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A tale of someone else's MASSIVE DRUGS.
I'll make this as quick as I can, because to really set all the backstory would be boring and take a long long time.

When I was fifteen or so, my mates and I hung around with a group of sixth form lads. As you do.
One of our number was a lovely girl called J, lovely person, but with a face like a smashed crab and carrying abit more around the middle than was healthy for a teenage girl. She was full of hormones but never got dates because - well, the poor love was pug ugly to be fair to her.

She got a crush on an older boy who was a sort of hanger on to our "usual" lads - he was into drugs in a big way. Speed was his thing but he wasn't choosy, anything would do. This was not exactly normal for a seventeen year old twenty or so years ago where I come from. So he wasn't exactly popular with us, but the lads tolerated him as they had grown up with him, but she was besotted.

One night when we were all hanging around the local church youth club (outside, we didn't go in), he turns up, and starts talking to her out of the blue. She's transfixed. A while later they go around the back of the church, and we all think "Ah well, at least she's finally getting a snog / fumble / whatever."
Time passes and he appears again, looking smug and cheery, but she doesn't.
Me and a mate pop around to see where J is. She's behind the church, split lip, crying, torn top, you get the idea. She won't exactly say what happened but the gen is, he was responsible for her split lip and roughed up appearance. He had wanted more than she was prepared to give aged fifteen - she, being naive and not used to dates, is thinking it's going to be a quick fumble and a snog, he has other ideas.

At this point I lost all rational thought and went after him. He was still sitting outside with the others, laughing and joking. I am told I suddenly appeared (I don't remember much of this, the red mist had descended), knocked him over, punched him in the face a few times, grabbed him by his hair and dragged him over to the wall that bordered the churchyard. We clustered around it of an evening but we couldn't sit on it because it was embedded at the top with bits of broken glass (nice !) and chunks of brick. I held his face about an inch from the pointy shards and expressed in no uncertain terms my displeasure at his actions and added that should I see him around her or us again, I would cut his fucking face off.

I shoved him away and he stumbled off down the road, blood and snot dripping. My mates, who had just stood there in utter surprise whilst this happened, asked me what it was all about and I told them. J comes back with my friend, still crying and blowing snot and blood. They discussed whether to go after him, but we decided against it.
Although we knew he was into drugs, we didn't know he was an utter, utter speed freak. It didn't seem conceivable really, we were on the whole "nice" kids. A couple of days later at school, one of the older lads came to tell me that the reason we hadn't seen the lad around for a few days was because he had had stumbled off down the street and promptly had a suspected heart attacked on the side of the road. Someone passing in a car had picked him up and taken him to hospital. The police suspected he had been done over but he told them he fell down earlier in the evening. He spent a couple of days in hospital and then went into what I guess you would call a drug rehab programme. He didn't return to school and we didn't hear much about him after that.

To this day I am not sure whether he had the heart attack coming, as he was a heavy heavy user of all sorts of drugs, and what I did was coincidence. Perhaps my actions were the things that brought it on (most likely). I know now I was pretty lucky to have not been at least questioned by the police, but I'm guessing as he had just sexually assaulted a fifteen year old girl, he didn't want the spotlight turned in him, or me, or her, too much.

I am not prone to outbreaks of violence, fwiw.

So there you are. Aged fifteen I very nearly killed a junkie sex fiend.
(, Thu 2 Sep 2010, 12:31, 4 replies)
Wonderful wimminz rage
Well done for the beserker, your friend is lucky to have someone stick up for her.
(, Thu 2 Sep 2010, 12:40, closed)
Sterling work
Plus, you know what they say: do MASSIVE DRUGS, have a MASSIVE HEART ATTACK.
(, Thu 2 Sep 2010, 12:54, closed)

(, Thu 2 Sep 2010, 13:07, closed)
What a load of nonsense.
An epic fail.

Let me understand this - a man who beat up a fat bird is then too weak/feeble/surprised to defend himself against another bird.

The, to add to the poetic justice, he has a heart attack (at 17!!!!) minutes after you showed mercy by not chasing him.

Do fuck off. If you're going to lie, make it credible.

BTW, is Joe, the Defender of All Mistreated Women related to you? Have you ever flying kicked a teacher?

You fucking idiot.

As a postscript, whie amphetamine abuse can make you aggressive and twitchy, it prety much always (in heavy use) removes the ability to have sex or get it up - never heard of Billy WIlly?
(, Thu 2 Sep 2010, 13:02, closed)

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