For God's Sake Nobody Ring Me!
The trouble started when two amazing things happened at the same time. The first was that I finally split up with a boyfriend who I'd become bored with, after weeks of chickening out of ending it because I'm too nice. The second was that to get over my guilty feelings I bought myself a swanky new phone. I made the mistake of keeping the same number sadly so it wasn't long after that the texts started from the ex saying he wanted me back, he'd learn to change, blah, blah, blah. Unless he could spontaneously grow a personality and an IQ better than that of a McDonalds career employee then I wasn't interested.

One night I was out getting drunk with a mate when my phone started getting messages. Many, many messages. The ex had decided to try a new tactic and pretty soon my inbox was full of MMS's entitled 'Sure I can't change your mind?' and each featuring a picture (from what turned out to be quite a large sequence) of him stripping off and then, well lets just call it posing so I don't have to disgust you with the details. Me and the mate laughed at them all and then I stupidly decided that maybe I should save them. For posterity you understand. Okay, maybe the occasional wank, shut up. I tried for an hour to send them, via email, to my computer. Something I could have done in seconds on the old phone but I just couldn't figure it out on this one in my drunken state. Naturally I hadn't bothered reading the manual, I am a man. 'Fuck it' I thought and just saved the pictures onto my phone. I'd figure it out when I was sober. My mate grabbed the phone and 'just to remind me in case I got too drunk' changed my wallpaper to what can only be described as 'a gigantic close up of a bell-end' (not one of my favourites to be honest, but still funny).

It was an outstanding plan that could only go horribly wrong by someone being so much of a drunken monger that they left their phone in the pub at chucky-out time. Bugger. So I woke up the next day, realised my mistake and sat there blushing furiously, wondering if the barstaff would know it was me. I didn't dare go and ask for it back and was mentally writing off the money it cost me. I suddenly realised that if anyone rang me, the barstaff might answer it and one of my mates would unwittingly grass me up. So I rang every single person I could think of telling them not to ring, although obviously not why, the bastards would ring straight away then. My final call was to one of my girly mates who I trusted enough to explain what I'd done. She laughed for a while and then asked if I wanted her to go and get it. She said she wouldn't be embarrassed. On the contrary she'd be quite proud and would think it was hilarious.

This was why, later that day, with me standing sheepishly in the doorway, hiding out of sight in case they recognised me, the woman I now love above all others wandered up to the bar and in an excruciatingly loud voice said "HEY. DID I LEAVE MY PHONE HERE? IT'S THE ONE WITH THE BACKDROP OF A BELL-END!".

"Is this it?" Asked the bewildered barman. "We found it last night, dunno what the backdrop is, we haven't opened it. It rang a couple of times though."

Bugger AND bastards, I thought.
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Mon 13 Feb 2006, 11:23, Reply)