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This is a question Cringe!

Chickenlady winces, "I told a Hugh Grant/Divine Brown joke to my dad, pretending that Ms Brown was chewing gum so she'd be more American. Instead I just appeared to be still giving the blow-job. Even as I'm writing this I'm cringing inside."

Tell us your cringeworthy stories of embarrassment. Go on, you're amongst friends here...

(, Thu 27 Nov 2008, 18:58)
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At least I never saw them again...
Ah, it was all a dream. Thank some god or other for that. I thought as I shook the sleep from my weary head and took in the strange room that surrounded me. Why am I sleeping on the floor with only a thin blanket to keep the cold off my bones? Why on earth am I not using the bed that, hold on… yep, the empty bed that’s only a foot away.

I couldn’t make myself comfortable so I clambered onto the empty bed, where I immediately sank into the middle of the mattress and disappeared into a world of softness that couldn’t have contrasted more with my previous spot.

Ah! My brain said again, the girlfriend’s grandparents house. The ridiculously soft bed that forced the pair of us to occupy the precise same part of the mattress. My endless complaining, which meant either a makeshift floor-bed or a needless and ultimately futile argument. Then the dream. It really was a dream, I’m sure. There’s no way I wandered, naked as nature intended, around her grandparent’s house in search of another bed. It must have been a dream. I couldn’t possibly have had a conversation with her Grandmother, while my tackle hung uselessly in the cold night air. Sure I’m naked now, but I didn’t, nay, couldn’t have wandered into their room and…

“Morning, Sleepy.” Ah, she’s back, and all chirpy too; well whoop-de-fucking-do for you.

“Hey baby, sleep well?” Is what she should be asking me.

“Yes, thank you. Need I even ask if you did?” That’s better. Kind of.

“No, you don’t need to ask, I slept very badly, thank you.”

“So I understand. Breakfast’s ready, if you’re hungry.” What did she mean by “So I understand”? I'll ask her...

“What do you mean by...”

“There’s a towel if you want a shower.” Don't interrupt me woman...

“Thank you sweetie, but what...”

And out the door she goes, without listening to a word I'm mumbling at her.

Then she puts her head back round the door and, with a huge piss-taking grin spread across her face, she delivers the very words I really didn't want to hear:

“Oh, and Gran says it would be nice if you'd put some clothes on before you come downstairs. We don't want you wandering about all naked again, if it's all the same.”

Fucksocks.
(, Mon 1 Dec 2008, 14:49, 3 replies)
A gem
An absolute gem. *click*
(, Mon 1 Dec 2008, 15:00, closed)
Excellent.
Good story, told well. *clicks*
(, Mon 1 Dec 2008, 20:27, closed)
Brilliant!
You captured nicely the creeping dread of realisation and recollection - like a cringe in slo-mo.
(, Mon 1 Dec 2008, 21:59, closed)

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