Dyslecsia
I have a lot of problems due to my dyslexia, such as reading things. But I was close to tears when I found out Popeye had died last week. Luckily I re-read it and realised it was some other bloke.
(RandomTwat, Wed 20 Apr 2005, 11:25, Reply)

True Story
My wife was put on "bed rest" in the hospital when she was pregnant with my son. We weren't expecting him to come along for another week or two, so I went to work.

A couple hours later, I get a call from my aunt-in-law -- my wife's in labor. I tear-ass to the hospital, going 70+ mph in a 40mph zone, and 120+ mph in a 55mph zone.

After I get to the hospital, there's much running about in wingtips, and I barely make it to the birthing room. I'm there for about two minutes -- long enough to hold my wife's hand -- and out rockets my son. Literally. He popped out with such force that he ricocheted off the doctor's chest and landed on my arm. Fortunately, someone caught him before he slipped off and did some umbilical bungee-ing.

I began a full-on cry at this point.

As I've only been in the room for two minutes, I didn't have an opportunity to get a good look at anyone other than my wife. Up from my wife's business end comes an East Indian doctor who says, "Congratulations. Your son has committed his first assault."

So, there I was, winded, crying, and uncontrollably laughing like a mong.
( cciulla doesn't have a board sig., Wed 20 Apr 2005, 13:42, Reply)

.
I’m feeling a bit weird at the moment. One of my best pals killed himself on Thursday, and I have spent the last four days crying, drinking, trying to figure some things out, though thankfully, all with friends. Good friends. kinnda a bit numb at the moment and coming in to work and reading this question of the week is getting a bit much. The last month or so have been horrible, I split up with my girlfriend of 3 years, and the first time I saw her again was at the weekend. I am trying to deal with the loss of some one whom meant so much, and trying to communicate with a person who once was so close, but now feels like a stranger. I don't know why I am writing a message on a computer to a bunch of folk I have never met, or am i ever likely to meet. It is not like I don’t have anyone to talk too. I have great friends, and a very close family, but for some reason I feel the need to tell a web site. None of you know me, but reading other stories from people who have been through so much can give you strength. i am down, but soon i will be up. There are many wonderful things to look forward too. i can only hope i find them.

thanks.


Ben, i miss you. i will never understand why you did it. Rest in Peace my friend.
(Jeeves, Mon 18 Apr 2005, 11:12, Reply)

I was told...
Schindler's List was a 'full box of tissues' film.

Funny that, I only wanked once.

Thank you, please tip the waitress on the way out.
(Chickenwire social lubricator extraordinaire, Sat 16 Apr 2005, 23:41, Reply)

sobs
i cried my eyes out when my wife ran away with my best mate........




i really miss him.
(bovrilboy, Tue 19 Apr 2005, 15:14, Reply)

Schoolboy Error
I'd just got meself a new bird, invited her over for dinner. Rustled up a bunch of my patent veggie fajitas, for she and I are of the non-carnivore kind, featuring nice fresh chillis.

Anyways, get the dinner all sorted, decide to grab a quick shower so as to be all sparklin' on the off chance she got drunk enough to sleep with me.

Was just about to hop under the water when something very important popped into my head.. Now then - we all know chaps should never go out with a loaded gun if there's the slightest chance of knocking boots, don't we?

By this point, time was running short, so i set about emptying me pods before the missus pitches up... and completely forgot that I'd just chopped a load of chillis.

10 seconds in, mild itching.
20 seconds, things go red
30 seconds in... it's like the RAF has called in half a dozen napalm strikes onto my bellend.

Cry? Nearly fucking shat meself the pain was so bad.

Cue an excrutiating evening of crossed legs, wincing, watering eyes and constant trips to the bog to dip my cock in a sink of cold water.

Took about 4 hours to go back to normal, which was just about the time Mrs Grouch decided to jump me bones.

And - as an epilogue - the chilli was *cough* desensitising enough that I lasted an age.

Every red, inflamed, swollen cock has a silver lining, I suppose...
( Grouch would quite like his clients to stop being numptys, Thu 14 Apr 2005, 15:43, Reply)

Just a couple of weeks ago, on the day Pope John Paul II died.
I was hanging this picture up, and I smacked my thumb with a hammer. Made me weep like a twat.
(_(_(_(_(_(_(_(_(_ =o.o=, Thu 14 Apr 2005, 19:00, Reply)

Grand Slam
When Wales won the Grand Slam last month.

I was there and there were actually a lot of Welsh men crying that day. For as long as I can remember my grandad would tell me how "he was there" when Wales beat France 16-7 in Cardiff to win our last Grand Slam in 1978. Every time we'd watch a game together he'd tell me how it had made grown men cry with joy. He'd been slowly dying for the last few years so wasn't well enough to attend games anymore but I always used to watch the matches on TV with him, even passing up ticket opportunities to be with him. You've never seen anyone get so much joy from a rugby game as my grandad. In the last couple of seasons when Wales have been absolutely woeful he would say "I'd love to see us win one more title before I go". I think he was half joking but I used to get a lump in my throat every time he'd say it. He died at new year and it was mercifully quick. He just went to sleep and never woke up again. When the final whistle went at the stadium I just burst into tears, looked up at the beautiful sunny sky and said "I hope you're watching, Granch".

I miss him.
(R. Jimlad twitter.com/sirmarkymark, Thu 14 Apr 2005, 13:26, Reply)

Kitty
When i was about 8 or 9 we got this tiny little kitten, we let it out one night when it was about 3 or 4 months, it stayed out all night, something it had never done before.

The next morning when i got up i opened the door to shout him in he was lying at the door. He was in alot of pain so we immediately took him to the vets and i went to school. I got called to the school reception about lunchtime and my mum was there, she took me up to the vet and i could see by looking at her sommit was wrong.

When we got there the vet showed us into the holding bit and i saw him lying in one of those cages with a tube coming out of his side and looking very poorly.

She told me that they were going to have to put it down because its bowels had been twisted and it had internal damage which they said seemed to come from several sharp blows or what they thought was definately kicks...

i could have cried then but i didnt, i kissed my kitty and told him it would be okay and he would be fine and i was shown out, a couple of mins later my mum came out crying and i knew that was it, they had put him down.

i took the rest of the day off school and cried alot in my bedroom out of sadness and anger because what kind of fuckign idiot would do that!!!

i still get angry thinking about it 11 years on.

:*(

Sorry for length etc etc etc
( Bongmaster Is a Junglist Soldier., Sat 16 Apr 2005, 18:32, Reply)

I last cried a couple of Fridays ago
when I got a phone call from my brother telling me that our mum had died that morning. He sounded really choked, and I burst into floods of tears. Then he told me it was an April Fools. The fucking bastard shitfaced CUNT
(piehands, Fri 15 Apr 2005, 22:08, Reply)

Priorities for tears...
I had to inform a lady that despite our best efforts we could not revive her husband of 62 years (heart attack). They were on a holiday together as a last fling at doing their own thing together, before they were to return home and retire to the inanity of life in the nursing home they had agreed was best for their failing health.

Whilst my partner stayed with the deceased and waited for the coroner and police to arrive I sat with her and consoled her as best I could. “62 years eh? That’s a long time – you must have loved him very much” I asked. Through a torrent of tears and uncontrollable sobbing she replied “Actually we were together for 68 years all up and to be honest he was a mean and vicious bastard – always hitting me and not a gentleman in the bedroom at all. I grew to hate him.”
She went on to explain that she had hoped this last holiday away together was going to rekindle the love he used to show her when he was young. “At least I can kid myself that it was going to be a romantic holiday together” she said.

We spoke a while longer and she had truly had a horrific life at the hands of a very troubled man – some of what she told me beggared belief. Saddened as I was, I had maintained my professional composure and relative detachment as best I could.

It was whilst I was walking back to my ambulance that I failed to notice the concrete kerbing and I tripped and impacted my knee on a jagged rock, somehow also twisting my scrotum as I fell.

Now that bought the tears to my eyes.
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Fri 15 Apr 2005, 13:36, Reply)

hhhmmmm
the last thing i cried at was when i was melting plastic into a jelly mould so i could fool people into thinking i had jelly even when i didnt.
i acidently put my hand ito the setting plastic and severly burnt my hand.then the realisation of me not being able to have some plastic jelly hit me and i cried.
it ended happy though coz i made real jelly instead,it was purple.
( DR Mexico Hunt, Hunt, Hunt, He's The Huntsman!!, Wed 20 Apr 2005, 12:29, Reply)

Cry, no, vomit, yes.
Please Bunny 333 tell me you are American. I will cry if I find out some Brit or Aussie can write so much unrepentant sentimental bilge without any hint of self-irony. Well done on finding a girlfriend and all, but there's a time and a place (and generally it's in private).
Edit: Awwww! No fun! When I said private, I didn't mean take it away. I'm sure Catherine wouldn't be pleased you won't stand by what you wrote. Let's have it back. I hadn't finished showing everyone.
(Garnett, Tue 19 Apr 2005, 9:28, Reply)

Yesterday
I laughed so much I cried because I caught my dad on my sisters dance mat.
(WaffleMonster, Mon 18 Apr 2005, 16:57, Reply)

I seldom cry.
It’s not a thing that I find easy to do. However I do remember the last time I shed a tear. Twas the summer time and everyone was out having a good time, enjoying the fine weather and such. At the time my friends and I were enjoying a few quiet beers in our local beer garden while watching the ladies do the whole summer clothing thing. Dave turned to me and said his rabbit had died earlier that day. At first I thought it was quite funny but as my beer haze started to clear and I felt the cold sobering truth fill me up. I realised that no longer would I enjoy sneaking into Dave’s garden at the crack of dawn and having my way with his beautiful rabbit. I held back the sorrow and pain till I got home, where I finally broke down in dismay. I now sneak into my mate Sue’s house and bugger her chinchilla instead. Funny how life goes on even through the worst of times.
(The Badger King woo yay hoopla, Fri 15 Apr 2005, 17:44, Reply)

Bee spaff juice
"John! Another bloody bumble bee got stuck in my bedroomroom this morning! It was shagging my windchimes and it came all over my boyfriend!"

My sister told me this at 7:40am,
I was crying so much through laughing, I couldnt get into my car to drive to work and ended up being 20 miniutes late.

Then I had to tell my boss why I was late. and she started laughing so much she was crying.

dunno if at me or because of my sister?
(gristy Twice as a rabbit, but oh, how a reputation sticks, Fri 15 Apr 2005, 13:30, Reply)

When my mum came along wearing headphones
and told me that the ice cream van had run out of cups of wank.
( Bob Todd whee, Fri 15 Apr 2005, 13:04, Reply)

Iraq
I lost 33 of my staff in one week there. Then I got emailed footage of three of them being executed. So I got outstandingly drunk and wept like a banshee. I am not in the army.
(junglejim, Thu 14 Apr 2005, 12:33, Reply)

what made me cry last...
Saturday just passed, I was in the car heading somewhere. Usual Saturday city-centre traffic :(
Rumbling along at slightly more than walking speed in 2 lanes of traffic, I saw an old lady on a traffic island waiting to cross the road. I stopped. Why wouldnt I stop? letting her across wouldnt cause me any delay. She shuffled out into the road. Would any of the twats in the inside lane stop to let her all the way over? Would they bollox. They were all in far too much of a hurry to get into the supermarket carpark.
The poor old lady just stood there with the sadest expression on her face I have ever seen, wondering why no-one would let her across. Had to choke back a sob there for some reason.
In the end I leaned over and flung the passenger door open. That stopped the traffic pretty quickly I can tell you.

The combination of that poor old womans expression and the added realisation that a such huge majority of the population are arrogant, ignorant, impatient, rude wankers got me really rather upset.


yay, first post.
(dave likes cheese, Tue 19 Apr 2005, 18:48, Reply)

Kitten murder
this wasn't the last time but it was the most dramatic, in that i was sitting in the street and just sobbed for an hour following a phone call from my parents.

Apparently my cat Mr Blonde (who was only a year old) had gone missing for a few days - he had never been gone more than a few hours before. Anyway, apparently he returned home, meowing pathetically and with a footprint-shaped dent in his side, bloody and with maggots everywhere. Some fucker had stamped on him.

He died literally within 5 minutes of making it home. Which meant that for 3 days he was suffering but he still needed to be home before he died.

I would be happy to go to jail for murder if I ever found out which cunt did it.
(soma9766, Sat 16 Apr 2005, 10:35, Reply)

Google ads on b3ta make me cry..
=(
(Tezzrexx http://5punk.co.uk - b3ta gamers, Sat 16 Apr 2005, 0:16, Reply)

An Onion

( dr_fonz, Thu 14 Apr 2005, 11:56, Reply)

Gutted
I last cried when I was on the way to the hospital for my test results and I ran my mother down and killed her - couldn't stop as appointments are really hard to get. As I was pulling up at the hospital I got a text from my girlfriend finishing our 5 year relationship as she was running away with my wife.

With tears streaming down my face the doctor told me that my cancer was in remission but that the test had revealed that I had advanced AIDS and I'd be lucky to see the end of the Summer. As I was driving home Terry Jacks "Seasons In The Sun" was playing on the radio and the poignant lyrics distracted me so that I failed to see the three year old child on crutches and knocked him straight into his parents.

All in all a bastard sort of a day.

I remain, as usual,
( Legless Mister Stabby - shanks for the memory, Fri 15 Apr 2005, 16:06, Reply)

Not really the last time, but it might make people laugh
Woke up in hospital just outside Prague after an ill-advised Absinthe binge. Later found out I’d been found in a pool of blood and carted off in an ambulance. At Accident and Emergency they cleaned me up and realised it was just a broken nose, so I went to a drying-out clinic where they did blood tests and then on to Intensive Care when my blood-alcohol levels came back.
When I woke up I got up to leave and felt something on my arm – a drip needle, which I promptly removed. Went to get up again, and felt something on my chest – the ECG pads – peeled them off. Went to get up again, and, ehh? What’s that? Lifted the covers and saw the catheter, which I removed. Now doctors wince when I tell this story, because unbeknownst to me at the time, catheters have a bubble that’s inflated after insertion and deflated before it’s removed. I pulled the catheter, with bubble still inflated (to the size of a small grape) all the way out. Apparently lucky not to do lasting damage, I cried each time I pissed for two days after. Apologise for length? – I was more sorry for each painful inch than you’ll ever be.
(Scoobs, Fri 15 Apr 2005, 9:52, Reply)

Last request
My colleague's eight year-old son was in hospital for the last time with leukemia. I called Ben and asked if there was anything he wanted or needed. His response,"Don't forget about me, Uncle Dave." I found my face was wet after I hung up. And I will always remember.
(Lister, Fri 15 Apr 2005, 4:04, Reply)

Actually,
the last time I cried was whilst watching the guy making the pizzas I was waiting for.

I was very drunk and the way he made the dough spin out into a flat pizza base was so beautiful that I actually started to cry.

Of course I had to cover this up with lots of coughing and a big delve about to remove something from my eye.
( chthonic, Thu 14 Apr 2005, 23:11, Reply)

Last time I cried
was at the funeral of a friend of mine after she killed herself. Her 13 year old son was completely emotionless until her coffin started moving behind those curtain things, at which point he tried to run after it and then collapsed onto the floor, literally howling and gasping for breath.
(lolaphallus, Thu 14 Apr 2005, 11:39, Reply)

make cry me
The last time I cried was Sunday when I spent almost 15 minutes making a pefect sandwhich and then as I was walking into the living room I tripped over my cat and my sandwhich went all over the floor and my fucking cat started eating it.
(Kerflabjeje, Tue 19 Apr 2005, 21:49, Reply)

Very boring management training course
(Prince2 if any of you have similarly suffered). Our instructor was a serious South African woman who had a piercing laugh which sounded like Dr Evil from Austin Powers. She used to laugh quite unexpectedly. My mind was numb on day 2. When it's numb, it tends to wander. The guy sitting next to me put his little finger in the corner of his mouth just like Dr Evil when she laughed. I corpsed. I laughed so hard that I to stagger from the room with tears rolling down my face. Outside, it wasn't so funny. Tragically, it was funny again once I re-entered the room and I had to leave again. I thought my chest was going to implode. It must be like drowning! Neee-haarr-harrr-harrr!!
( Pfffwwttt... I told you so., Tue 19 Apr 2005, 11:35, Reply)

Deliberate deceiving...
Reading these posts makes me realise how much my job (paramedic) makes me accept truly sad situations with little or no emotion...and even that realisation doesn't make me emotional or teary eyed. I guess it’s a way of retaining my sanity, but I do wonder at what cost.

I did get a request once via the police to speak to the wife and young son of a man who had committed suicide in an incredibly bizarre and tortuous manner. He died in my care as we arrived at hospital and the possibility of survival was always nil. The wife and son wanted to be reassured that he died in peace, in no pain and had he given a message to pass on to them.

Frankly he was in extreme pain and a lot of mental anguish and confusion, but he did have a lucid period of about a minute when he told me some personal stuff – none of which involved any messages for his loved ones. The liaising police officer sussed out a few background details about the family and we both conspired to concoct a story that we thought they would want to hear – how much he loved them both and that his son shouldn’t give up on his learning difficulties and that he was sorry for hitting his wife.
And more stuff like that.

Man, the look on their faces as we spun our web of deceit – pure tears of happiness in the midst of a tragedy.

The police officer and I had a few drinks later to debrief what we had done and even though I felt the eyes welling up a bit, there were still no tears. Out of the blue the cop tells me that it really bugs him that he doesn’t get teary eyed/emotional anymore, so it’s not just me.



And for fucks sake can we get back to something more amusing for the next QOTW? With this question and no newsletter all in the same week how are we supposed to get our daily grin to cope with it all?
(emadex thinks the world will end on, Mon 18 Apr 2005, 5:20, Reply)