Persistance works
My story of my relationship starts several years ago.
We met in our high school art class when the teacher moved the seats around thus putting myself next to the charming lady that would soon be my girlfriend. We talked to each other a little bit and got to know each other better etc etc. This goes on for a while, I introduce her to my friends, she does the same with me, and we get to be really good friends. Next year of high school starts and we're still best friends as always. However, it wasn't until around the senior prom that I gathered up the courage to speak the words that I wanted to say to her.
So after practicing in front of a mirror for some time, I got the drive to ask her to the prom. So I asked...
And she couldn't go.
But the story doesn't end here. Since she is a year younger than I, she still is in high school after I graduate, but due to her parents work, she had to move about an hour north of where she used to live. She starts going to a new school, and I'm off to the local community college starting my freshman year.

We remained friends, calling each other every once in a while, and I take short trips over to her house occasionally. This goes on for the year, and then at her graduation for her school, me and my best buddies go to her graduation. I haven't seen her in a while at this point (maybe like 2-3 months) and when we see her once the ceremonies are all over, I suddenly find myself yearning to be with her.

Then the next year of college starts for me, and her (we started to go to the same college), and we get even closer to each other than before. We see each other pretty much every other day at this point. I can tell we are getting to be very close friends at this point as we start doing a lot of things together.

Fast forward to the next year...

So I graduate from the college and transfer to a bigger one, and she is still at my community college. This is when we start getting serious. During the first semester, I finally throw out the question to her (when I'm back home for a weekend), "Would you like to be my girlfriend."
She sat in her seat, put out her hand, and said, "Sorry, I'm just not ready now..."

So when I get back to college, I'm heartbroken, (We are still friends though at this point) and the depression starts to set in a little bit.
But once the time gets to be about February, I say to myself that I'm going to get myself a girlfriend for Valentine's Day if it kills me.

So I start to scour the campus looking for potential girls. Day after day I search and search but no luck at all.

But then, the day before Valentine's Day, I get a call from a certain girl that I know... the very same one that turned me down only a few months before.

And here is what she said,

"I've been really thinking about it these few past months, and it turns out that I think I really do like you. I really do want to be your girlfriend!"

We're still together now, having celebrated over six months together of happiness and joy. Over 5 years in the making. And we're inseparable when we are together.
(IRP Guardian Fighting evil and boredom, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 17:40, 1 reply)

did someone say "meat market"?
I wasn't going to reply to this, but that phrase, back on pg. 1, brought back a particularly horrible memory.

Some important relevant facts about me:
- I can drink, but I'm slow, and don't like getting drunk;
- I HATE smoking (in all its forms). There is a permanent Zero Tolerance zone around me. I find it completely inexcusable.

So, on a Friday night during my first year living in Dublin, after a few Guinness at the famous Kiely's of Donnybrook, one of my friends asks the barman something like "where do we go to meet girls, then?". He pointed us at a nightclub up the road, in the basement of a hotel.

We get there, and I'm not impressed with the outside of the place I'm dressed in a polo shirt with no tie. Bouncer says "sorry, dress code, you can't go in." I say "OK, see you guys next we-".

Bouncer interrupts me, says "Hang on, you can come in after all". WTF? We get inside, £5 lighter, and... it's a meat market. Lots of people who have clearly missed the boat, and couldn't make it to the airport. I'm no prize, but did I belong there? Perhaps the bouncers were trying to raise the tone of the place by letting average old me in?

We got some drinks, and I hunkered down, sulking until we could get out of there. The air was blue with cigarette smoke, which only made me grumpier. I hadn't drunk anywhere near enough to forget where I was or what I was surrounded by.

After we left, the other guys told me that some girl was trying to chat me up; sat next to me, tried to make small talk. I have a vague memory of a blond, dressed quite nicely, in fashionable specs (like mine were).

I had blanked her out entirely, because she smoked. Chain-smoked, to be accurate. Oh well... I've never kissed an ashtray, and don't intend to.
( bnt what, me worry?, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 17:32, 36 replies)

The wooing went something like this
We'd known each other since school, but it was incredibly difficult to get her to come out with me. Her parents were strict and hindered her with a harsh curfew. They even insisted she be in bed by 9pm! Bastards!

I managed to persuade her to tell her parents she was having a sleepover at another girl's house, and we went to the movies. We saw Ace Ventura, I recall (a comedy that hasn't aged well, as it happens). Afterwards, the walk back to my place was through a dark, romantic forest.

I kissed her, though I was a little heavy-handed with her so she squealed. I covered her mouth with my hand to silence her, my other hand supporting her head at the back. I must've shaken her a little too vigorously as the next thing I knew, she was dead! After some furious sex, I dumped her corpse in the river and never spoke of it again.

It was all over the local papers later that week ("Girl MISSING" etc), but I think I got away with it - nobody suspects a primary school teacher of anything these days :) Lucky me.
(mmmkay, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 17:21, Reply)

Back in the day
This is a bit of a fuzzy memory so be gentle.

When i was around 8 years old(that's about 8 years ago - yes, i know, im a baby b3tan) i was taken to some god festival by my father who's big on the whole god thing(became a, how do you say, part time preacher-man earlier this year after doing a big course on it).

It was a hot sunny day in england i do remember, and i was in a field with a bouncy castle in it.

A girl of about my age approached me and said "i've just met Matthew and Simon!"
Me confused as i was, thinking she meant those of the 12 apostles responded with "But you can't...aren't they dead?"
She looked very upset by this "They can't be dead, i just got their autographs!"
*Me still looking very confused*
"Matthew and Simon from Blue Peter!"

There was an "ohhhhhh" moment and i quickly left after that.

I hated Blue Peter.
(El, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 17:18, 1 reply)

two girls, one lift
went drinking with a friend (named as b) back on leave from the army, we ended up a little gigglely after a bottle of wine each, no problem there what-so-ever.

i kinda had a boyfriend at the time, (lets call him x)an excuse for a man, soppy, nieve and one of those iritating christians who try to convert strangers over a pint. need i say more, he was a sympathy date, who i was only with to keep the family happy, as "he was such a nice boy"

x came down to the pub, pissing most people off with his, "where do you think your going when you die" routine so i go outside for a sneaky fag (he didn't know i smoked) and started talking to a gorgeous sweet bloke (who we'll call c) who looked a mix between johnny depp and mackenize crook (yes i know, odd, but i thought phwoar!!)

b from the army comes over, turns out she knows this bloke (c) whos now rolling a fag for me (sweet, i know).

he knew her from a few years back when she was best friends with c's best mates girlfriend. and all those years ago, b got very drunk with her friend and ended up getting a little jiggy infront of both the boys..

so c starts off the conversation, mentioning the incident that had happened, promting b to retort back that she still was slightly swayed by women (as was I now, apparently) and that me and her were actually planning a porn movie, in a lift.

hot, sweaty, hardcore sex between to v hot girls (well, im hot anyway), describing in explicit detail what we were going to do to each other, what camera angles would be used, the whole shibang.

needless to say, he was hooked. found me on facebook and started the beautiful romance. finally found the reason to leave the christian too!

so yeah, i pulled my now current boyfriend with porn!


(i actually found out from c's mate who was there at the time, that when he first saw me at the bar he thought i was the most beautiful girl he'd seen in a long while, and was determinded to get me somehow anyway...)
(mcspannered yes m'lord, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 15:12, 5 replies)

we met at the adoption agency
I said "do you come here orphan?"
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 14:25, 2 replies)

Beans on Toast
I met my chap at Uni. Having finally got up the guts to leave abusive bumhole boy, this man was like a breath of fresh air. Not a bad bone in his body, kind and really funny.

Despite him being terrified of me at first because I appeared to be slightly crazy and he was very shy, he stuck at his steady wooing plan for the next month or so. This involved inviting me back to his halls to write up our labs together and soon extended to watching DVDs of a Friday afternoon when we were hungover and couldn't be arsed to go to our "Computing for Chemists" lectures.

We had a term of field trips lined up, which was when we were thrown back to being teenagers, as a mutual friend would run between us asking if we liked each other and all that guff. We spent a fair amount of time of those trips flirting and holding hands like school kids on the bus home. For the first time in years, I felt free and happy. However cheesy it sounds, he really did put a smile back on my face.

Within a few weeks, he'd invited me to come back home with him for a weekend and I'd accepted, feeling excited and having major butterflies in my stomach. We hadn't even kissed at this point, but I wanted to so badly. I can honestly say that I knew I wanted to be with him for a long time.

After beating about the bush for a month or so, he invited me over for tea after a late lecture, where he proceeded to cook me beans on toast. We ended up spending the night together and have been together ever since. 5 years in November!

So there you go, romance is indeed beans on toast.
( El Lazarus is calm now, Ish,, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 14:20, 4 replies)

we met in high school.
Her parents hated me, but we stuck together.

Her 'friends' wrote horrible graffiti about us in the toilets, but we stuck together.

Her brothers threatened to beat me up, but we stuck together.

In the end I was banned from teaching.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 14:05, Reply)

We got off to a shitty start
Following on from this:

www.b3ta.com/questions/gooutwithme/post231567

Here's my side........

So, the prelude to our meeting involved him watching scat pron. (He says it was cringeworthy.) My combats were those camouflage ones, with tassly bits dangling from every pocket. On which I'd pissed earlier in the evening. (That's why I binned them in the end, every time I went for a wee, at least 2 or 3 tassles would sneak in the pan before I realised.)

I'd been dragged into the god-awful HQ by my girly friends - it really is a hideous establishment; an unadulterated meat market with sticky floors (spilled alcopops & manfat). We got chatting to some blokes, one of whom, Dave said, "You'd be really good for my mate over there," and promptly deposited a tallish, attractive bloke in front of me, dressed like an old school goth with fuck-off spikey hair. "Yeah, he could be my cup of tea," thought I, "I'll give him a whirl..."

He was wearing a particularly good quality tactile leather jacket, on which I commented. "My wife bought it for me," was his snooty response.

"Fuck that, and him then," thought I, and returned to my mates. A short while later, Dave comes back over and says, "You two hit it off then? Have you arranged a date?"

"Er, no."

"Why not? I really think you two would get on like a house on fire..."

"The fucker's married! I'm not playing..."

"Yes, but they've been apart over a year, he's moving on! Please, at least swap phone numbers?"

So, at Dave's insistence we did. Then all his mates left as did mine, and we were alone. We chatted about the usual - music, art and beer. On kicking out time, the taxi queue was snaking around the town square like a smelly burbery python. So I accepted his offer of a coffee at his place, just up the street, from where I could call a cab in comfort.

My problem on entering his place was where to sit in order to cause the least possible damage/offence. You see, not only was I dangling pissy tassles from my combats, but I'd also "done a Pooflake" towards the end of the night and spectacularly shat myself. (IBS combined with too little to eat + too much beer.) Luckily, or perhaps not, it was a watery one as opposed to solid, so I'd managed to clean it up reasonably well and padded my floorpan with extra bogroll to be on the safe side. I scanned the furniture: a cream sofa from Ikea - that was a no-no... aha, a black leather chair! I could get away with that if I was careful. So I sat side-saddle. As I swirled my coffee I couldn't help admiring his extremely horny boots (in my head, lest he thought I was a perv) Then I noticed his CD collection; Violent Femmes, Iggy Pop...

So my taxi arrived, he escorted me out and we arranged a date for the following week. That was 5 and a half years ago....

The irony that we met on March 14th, Red Nose Day that year, as opposed to 4 weeks earlier is not lost on me. Thank goodness for Dave and his insistence.
( Tourette's ( . )( . ) has a monkey hair in her fried egg, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 14:04, 14 replies)

she had cataracts.
Eventually she said she couldn't see me any more.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 13:57, 1 reply)

she said I treated her like an idiot.
I said "I just wanted to make you feel special."
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 13:53, Reply)

we met at the leper colony
but we split up.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 13:51, Reply)

Not really romantic
But at the end of 2006, I met a 19 year-old on MSN. We proceeded to have a month's worth of casual fuckbuddy sex.

Not really on topic, but I was 36 at the time, and I just wanted to boast. Sinking the pink with a 19 year-old does wonders for a 36 year old's ego.
(David CopAFeel Used to be The_Elcat - Spouting crap since 1970., Sat 30 Aug 2008, 13:44, 2 replies)

Dogfish, Indoor Climbing & Chunder.
Back in the mists of time, when your humble correspondent was happily engaged hacking up fishies by day and staring at small bits of them through microscopes, he shared a lab with a nice young lady called A.

Apparently she'd been nervous of him for a while at first, due to the leather, enthusiastic participation in silly sports and to be fair a Jockanese accent. As time went by, she realised that actually he was a jolly nice chap, and sharing of notes and so forth occurred.

Now, before you make a lemming-like leap to the wrong conclusion, absolutely nothing of that nature occurred, although the night she spent in his bed after getting blootered did cause tongues to wag. (He was in a sleeping bag on the floor. Gentleman, see?).

In fact she had a jolly nice chap back home, got engaged and married a few years later.

Haaanyway, one fine day in the middle of the night, she escorts some of her chums from Halls to the chamber of fish-genocide.

Completely oblivious of their arrival, clad in a blood and other suspicious juices coated labcoat, dissecting merrily away, and probably bombed out of his teeny-tiny on the ethanol wash that was massively over-used, your hero doesn't even grunt at them.

Now one of her friends was a slightly quiet Welsh lass. Tall, slim, moderately deranged, liked nothing better than wearing a sort of white jimjam costume and hitting people. The depths of her derangement can be illustrated by the fact that as she saw yours truly gaily slicing his way through a former Dogfish, she decided there and then that she was going to marry this object.

(Not that she told me, or I'd have jumped out of the window in terror, and we were on the third floor.)

There then followed a campaign of intimidation. Her friends knew of her deranged passion for the balding Jock. He was completely oblivious, and after a couple of crap short-term 'relationships' after the big heart-break, wasn't too keen to get serious: being in his final year, vaguely considering signing up to wear green for a living on behalf of Big Liz, and basically wasn't after anything more than mindless shagging. And beer.

However, Operation 'Get Osok' had started.

Somewhat bewildered by being repeatedly invited out by this bevy of young ladies, which was unusual as they were first years, and as such did not often socialise with grizzled third years (the Union Meat Market and Pull-A-Fresher nights don't count) also factoring in the uncomfortable truth that he was basically quite ugly and had limited success in the pursuit of phlange over the years....he stayed in the lab.

Well, the thesis needed doing, and training dogfish to do dolphin stylee tricks doesn't count.

Eventually however, A's fella visited. And as it was a special event, your hero turned up.

Funnily enough, the only space open at the table was next to a tall, slim Welsh lass. Who didn't even mind when climbing the wall behind the table, including placing a DM briefly in her crisps, was the logically correct route to the gents.

All seemed to be going swimmingly, and indeed 'something' was developing in the heart, mind, and most importantly trousers of the narrator, when the Welsh one started to turn a fetching shade of green.

Now she wasn't drunk, but..ooh, she's gone white with green patches...to the Ladies, with female escort.

Allegedly what followed was "HUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRGGGGHHHHHH......Swooshhh....as a flood of dodgy Newcastle Brown issued forth in biblical quantities.

Oh.

Never mind, being a Gennelman of the proper type, the offer is made to walk the Welsh one back to her room, as she is still feeling distinctly dicky. Unknown to said Gentleman, the table full of friends is ninja-ing along twenty yards back muttering such things as 'Gerrin There Ya Puff' an so forth from the males, and 'Awwwwww' from the fluffy laydees.

Back to room. *Thinks* *Thinks Once Again* *Bugger*

"Do you fancy coming out for a drink sometime?"

*Shit*

Captain Fuckwit has just offered to take the vomit champion of North Wales out for a beer.

*Double Shit*

*Sinks into floor*









She said yes.

That was 15 years ago.

We're still together.

Which if nothing says wonders for her patience, strength of character, and willingness to put up with very long sentences.
(osok Rebel without a clue, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 12:58, 2 replies)

What first attracted me to my last boyfriend
was the drinks i was about to obtain from him.
He obviously took it the wrong way, stupid boy.
(sarah90 >you, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 12:12, Reply)

Romeo and Juliet eat your heart out
My best friend Rosie and I had gone out for drinks after work.

This sounds as though it could have been us sipping cocktails in a sophisticated London bar, after a day of meetings, manicures and yah-ing into our mobile phones, swishing our perfectly coiffed hair about the place and looking every inch as if we'd stepped out of a Cosmo fashion shoot, and if it was, this story would be much, much different. As it was we were between terms at university, working our grubby little fingers to the bone in the conference centre catering department.

We spent that summer being hot, sweaty, and pickled in cheap vodka whenever we weren’t working any of our regular 60 hours a week.

So, out for drinks after work meant we put on clean clothes and some mascara, and headed to our local. Once inside we avoided touching the walls and doors or indeed looking at anyone.

We headed to the corner and sat down, carefully not leaning on the table lest we stuck to it, and not leaving our feet in one position on the carpet for too long in case we stuck to that too*.

That night we happened to meet Rosie’s cousin Big Daft Richard and Big Daft Richard’s friend Simon in the pub. It must have been a Friday as Simon was a vision of crisp Ben Sherman, too much hair gel and a lovely thick Potteries accent to go with his slightly vacant expression. But at least he was clean.

The boys' plan was to go to Valentinos** and look for easy ladies who were wearing boob tubes. Our plan was to stay in the pub and not go to Valentino’s to be the sort of easy ladies wearing boob tubes they were looking for. However, our plan backfired as they decided*** that we and the pub were much more fun. Rosie and I, hardened by days of drinking Tesco value spirits, easily held our own as Big Daft Richard and Simon sank pint after pint.

Eventually, after an evening of Richard and Simon working their way through several vats of cheap fizzy piss, they went outside for yet another cigarette, leaving Rosie and me in full animated discussion**** and oblivious to their absence.

Then, suddenly, rolling towards us like a sack of mad pigs on stilts, was Big Daft Richard. He crumpled onto the chair next to mine, put his enormous ham-like arm round my shoulders and slurred, in his best Stoke voice, “Simon’s been sick in the car park, but he wants to know will you have him a date.”

Not wanting to speak through the beery fug, I wrinkled my nose in a “no, sorry” expression of mute distaste and shook my head.

And they say romance is dead.


*quick getaways were frequently necessary
** “nightclub” in Hanley and the cultural hub infamous chav hunting ground in North Staffordshire
*** were incapable of moving after 7 pints
****overexcited squealing and gossiping about everyone we knew from work
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 11:42, 4 replies)

a lot of women seem to think
that everyone who's into jazz singing must be gay (at least anyone under 800 years old).

A lot of women seem to think that everyone who's into water-skiing must be a rich wanker.

A lot of women seem to think that everyone who's into Dungeons & Dragons must be a pasty-faced nerd.

So if you're into all three, as I am, you can have a very hard time meeting women.

Anyway, I'm happy to say that I've finally met a woman who doesn't make inaccurate assumptions about me based on stereotypes. In fact she says she's also into scat, watersports and role-playing! She seems to be really into D&D - she says she has a dungeon set up in her basement.

I'm really looking forward to going over to meet her gaming group tonight.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 11:25, 6 replies)

I'm so sorry
So, I manage to cut through the social anxiety.

I've got her number.

She agrees to come back to mine for 'a little bit of privacy' whilst her mates waited for her at the club.

We're on my bed, tearing each other's clothes off.

Now, time for a bit of 'Q&A':

Did I forget to have any condoms?
Did I fail to get it up even when she said 'no bother, I'll just have to go down on you instead' (HER ACTUAL WORDS)?
Did she fall off the bed as she moved to do some kind of routine to 'get me going' (her words again)?
Did she crack her head on the wardrobe as she fell off?
Did she proceed to vomit everywhere?
Did the bog seat smack her on the nose after I'd managed to haul her half-naked semi-unconscious body to the toilet to save the mess?
Did this mean she'd become a bloodied, panda eyed, crying, vomiting, complete car-crash of a woman?
Did I escort her back to the club?
Did her mates threaten to call the police after I'd returned her looking like what can only be described as a victim of domestic violence?
Did this whole farce fire me back into the socially-impaired class of human beings?

Yes. Oh yes.

The best thing about it, I called her the next day to see if she fancied 'trying again sometime'.

The response was, shall we say, lacking.
(scentless_apprentice takes two bottles into the shower!, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 10:42, 3 replies)

I got my current missus
off her tits on Ketamine, then we had sex.


It's been a year and a half now.
(Scrumpy does not negotiate with terrorists,, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 10:41, 1 reply)

Meeting The Perfect Partner
I spent many years looking for the perfect woman. All through my youth and early twenties I bounced from one short term relationship to another. I met numerous really nice people - smart, beautiful, caring and so on, but I just couldn’t find ‘the perfect woman’ – and that’s what I wanted and that’s what I was going to hold out for: The perfect woman. After all, why sell yourself short?

In time I realised there was no one local who fitted my criteria so when I was in my late twenties I left my home town and my family and friends behind and covered the country looking for ‘her.’ But although I dated and romanced loads of women the ones I met were always too tall, too short, a bit podgy, too thin, wrong hair colour... etc. You know what I mean. I wasn't after second best so I moved on. I wanted to hook up with the perfect woman, and that's a fair enough desire.

In my early thirties I decided to take my quest overseas and I spent many years searching far-away places for the ‘right one’... All around Europe, through Africa, across the Americas... but again, despite meeting many great girls, I still had no luck on the ultimate partner front. Plenty of lovely people, but just not the one I was after.

However perseverance is a wonderful thing. After years and years of active searching I finally found her – The Perfect Woman. I kid you not: She was wonderful; she was faultless, she was everything I had ever dreamed of. Perfection. I was ecstatic. Finally, after all that work, all that searching, I had located the perfect woman.

And there is no doubt in my mind that we would have lived happily ever after except for one small issue: She was looking for the perfect man.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 10:39, 4 replies)

Well.....
I was working as a waitress in a cocktail bar..
(The Apeface Cherub is not a cunty-uber-cunt, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 9:41, 4 replies)

I have the unenviable ability
To scare girls away after being with them for only a couple of weeks…

The asking out isn’t the problem – every girl I’ve asked out has said yes, which I suppose is a minor plus point (well, apart from one girl who I accidentally asked out whilst ridiculously drunk, but let’s not go there). However, after my first serious relationship which lasted around a year, I had a spate of several relationships which ended after 5 days, 2 weeks, and a month respectively.

In each case, no reasons were given, and I’ve no idea what the problem was – well, with the exception of the third one, which I’m fairly sure was as a result of excessive alcohol consumption. Me and some friends were invited over to a birthday party at the then girlfriends uni halls; this being uni, of course we naturally assumed it would be a party of the drunken variety. Even if it was on a Sunday… So we turned up a wee bit merkled on vodka, only to discover that it was in fact a *gasp* sober party – hilarity ensued. Namely, the girlfriend refusing to speak to me, one of my mates getting a bit sweary, and another spectacularly failing to match co-ordinates with his chair. However, the shit successfully matched co-ordinates with the fan the next morning… Anyway, I’ve rather majorly digressed.

Thankfully, things are going swimmingly with the current girlfriend, and we’re now coming up to the four month mark, so it would appear I’ve succeeded in not scaring her off =)
(Captain Backfire, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 9:23, Reply)

Bulge
Met this lovely girl at a pub, definitely some chemistry there. Flirtingly she smiles and says 'So is that a gun in your pocket or are you just pleased to see me?'

Torn between honesty and desire I reply 'A bit of both to be honest - this is a rape'

lies

( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 8:57, Reply)

never try and be romantic.
After I'd been going out with this particular lady for a few months I wrote some 'committment vows' for her. I arranged a surprise party. The idea was that she'd come in and all our friends would be there, I'd read the vows and it'd all be lovely, then we'd go off on a surprise romantic weekend. I even arranged to have one of my friends, who was a bit of a would-be sound engineer, record the whole thing so that it'd be a memory years from now blah blah blah.

She was mortally offended! We did go on the weekend, but she was really tense the whole time, and she broke up with me very soon after that. So in the end I spent hundreds of dollars to be left with minus one girlfriend and a state-of-the-art cassette recording of our relationship ending.

I don't know - was the whole idea patronising? Was it being too forward? Was it putting her on the spot? Was there something wrong in the vows themselves? Was she just nuts? I don't know - I still have the recording, maybe someone can listen to it and tell me what went wrong (download and judge for yourself).
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 8:02, 1 reply)

I was sitting in a bakery...
...in a rather questionable part of town, eating a pie and reading the newspaper when a homeless man smelling of piss comes in and approached my table...

"Why 'ello love, would you marry me for a million dollars?"
"Do you have a million dollars...?"
"..*mumble mumble*..."

He starts to walk away, but then pauses before turning around to face me again:

"You haven't got a spare $2, have you?"
(quis, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 4:19, Reply)

Oh I just thought of a positive one!
In highschool I sat next to Kristin, long blonde curly hair, bright blue eyes and an adorable laugh. lucky me Eh.

Well After getting to talk a few times. conversations started with me asking to borrow a pencil (even if I already had one) Talk turned to chatter chatter turned to likes and dislikes and the next thing I knew I was singing to her in the middle of lessons (got a few detentions for her!) I eventually wore her down with wit and charm (god knows when your as ugly as sin you gotta have something up your sleeve)

Then came the Prom (leavers dance) And we all decided to go as a group. I went with the Kilt (and if I'm proud of anything its that I look damn good in a kilt!)

anyways there I was looking spiffy on the last night of school (my last chance to go for it) and I waited till our song came on (the one I had requested, the very song I sang to her in maths) She started blushing instantly and i whisked her up to the dance floor (swept her clean off her feet)

We dated for about a year. But in the end we were looking for different things
(tammybear1985, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 4:10, Reply)

5 Years and counting...
one day about 5 years ago I was collecting for a charity with my cadets. when I looked in a shop window and saw the most beautiful girl I've ever met.

I have spent the last 5 Years being her "friend" I even became good friends with her friends and even flat-shared with some of them. I've never kept my feelings a from her, I've told her dozens of times that im in love with her. I fear I've become a security blanket for her. I'm the one she tuns to when everything turns sour.

The most recent of dramas being her finding out that her BF of 1 and a half years, has a wife! As much as I can see that im being used to comfort her in times of need. The Feelings I have for her keep pushing me back to her.

just a quick vote... how many of you see sitting in bed in PJ's watching dvd's cuddled in, something you do with a "friend"??? Oh and Her insisting that I run my fingers through her hair and tickle the (erogenous) back of her kneck???

Ah maybe someone here can help me out!
(tammybear1985, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 3:44, 8 replies)

Why, I hit her in the ass with a football. How else?
My current flame is a soccer chick (that's what we call it here). And she's good. Really, really good.

So in college I see her playing in a league with a buddy of mine, and I tell him he's GOT to introduce us, for she's fit and has a face that makes you certain some poor bastard has already written her some shitty poetry about "radiant beauty" etc.

He brings me along to a game, and I'm on defense. There's a shift in movement, and I've got the ball at the top of our own box. She's right in front of me, racing for the half and anticipating a nice leading pass, which she will then carry to the opposing goal and dazzle us all with some brilliantly placed shot, maybe top corner, maybe through the legs of the keeper. There was nothing between me and her, and nothing between her and the goal. With so many strides ahead of any other players, she was all but already on a breakaway. It was a done play.

But, you see, she was really quite fit. I mean really well toned and with womanly curves that I just couldn't ignore. So when she turned to run for a pass, I couldn't see anything but that magnificent posterior, which I promptly nailed. With the ball.

Six weeks later we were dating quite regularly, and when I brought up the story she remembered it quite clearly and wondered exactly how I could have messed up such an easy play!

Six years later, and we have tickets to watch Beckham play tomorrow. She still distracts me from soccer now and again.
(jessemoya, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 3:32, 3 replies)

We all get one "real life scene straight from a movie", and this was mine.
So there I was, the super cute new kid in school, asking a girl to dance at homecoming.

I had just transferred from a rough public school to a fancy private school, and at 16, I was the heartbreak of the couple dozen girls that were sick of the same couple dozen guys they had been going to school with for ages.

Still unsure what to make of this new level of attention from girls, I was hesitant to approach the gal I'd been admiring from afar. But if I was a grade older then I've got that going for me, right? She'd probably say 'yes', wouldn't she? I could do it. I mean, she's smart and beautiful, she seems really sweet - I bet she's funny, too. Maybe we'll really get along. Maybe she'll think I'm funny!

Just at the moment I was trying to dare myself to approach her at the dance, the music changed to a slow song and all of her friends she'd been dancing with started pairing up. She looked around once, twice, and then started towards the door to the punch.

Somehow I'd already started towards her. Before I could stop myself I had stopped her after only a step: "Hi Katie. Um, would you like to dance? With me?"

She looked me up and down, chuckled once, and spat, "Nice try..." as she turned and walked away.

"NICE TRY," SHE SAID, AS SHE TURNED AND WALKED AWAY.

I stood there not knowing what to do. I had to get off the dance floor, but I couldn't very well FOLLOW HER. So I stood there awkwardly, in front of all of her friends, the scene replaying over and over in my mind, until she was gone. Then I left. We never spoke again.

...

I've told that story countless times over the years because you know what? I'm glad I stepped up. I got over the rejection (cold as it was), and now I know, instead of wondering for the rest of high school if she might like me back.
(jessemoya, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 3:14, 2 replies)

by screaming
"I subscribed to your bloody porn site, and I spent six months tracking you down - YOU OWE ME!"

Still single - women eh?
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Sat 30 Aug 2008, 3:04, Reply)