Psychological Scarring
I have never been too good around the opposite sex.

After a few early knockbacks at school I gave up on asking girls out. This trend continued throughout college and university fuelling my parents beliefs that I may be gay. Thats what you get when you have a half-Irish, Half-Scottish Father who thinks he is quite the ladies man, but has only his repetoire of stomach churning chat up lines to show as evidence.

So, time goes by, I drop out of uni and find a job. There are a couple of minor flirtations with ladies, but nothing serious. Then last Christmas, after travelling back up to my North Eastern homeland I met a lovely lady. She was the friend of a friend and we hit it off. We saw eachother a lot in the week before I was due to return to Manchester. All was going well until a particularly drunken evening a few days before my planned departure. Long story short...sharp nails, exposed genitalia, blood loss, swelling, embarassing trip to the doctors surgery and application of topical cream.

Since that fateful evening I have not had the courage to ask any other girls out. It's official, I have the fear, I may never fornicate again.
(fan-dan-go because mutton chops are cool!, Thu 28 Aug 2008, 21:34, 3 replies)

Hang on...
Are you me, but with added idiocy?
(scentless_apprentice takes two bottles into the shower!, Thu 28 Aug 2008, 21:42, closed)

no no
he is a northern me, but my genitals have never been mutilated
(Halfy By light alone, Thu 28 Aug 2008, 21:47, closed)

Hang on
I am northern!
(scentless_apprentice takes two bottles into the shower!, Thu 28 Aug 2008, 21:58, closed)