I'd have rather taken the expected thrashing......
In my youth, (about 10 years old) I went through a phase of supplementing my low pocket money rate by liberating coinage from my Mum's purse.
Being only 10 and not very cunning, I was found out and ordered to my room to awaiting what I thought would be the expected thrashing.

But she had learnt new tricks.....

Mum walked into my room, emptied the contents of her purse onto my bed and said
"if you want it so much, you can take it"
and then walked out.

emotional bruising leaves no scars for social workers to find

edit: ooo top of page one, surely that's the new "first post"
( Not just a hatstand inflamed in the membrane inflamed in the brain, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 13:08, Reply)

Actually one from my mother
Sitting around the kitchen table with my mum and my then-girlfriend of four years. We're talking about a friend of mine who is a bita lot weird, though I mention his parents are really nice. Mum says: "Oh, I've not met them, perhaps I'll meet them at the wedding."
"Er...what wedding?" I ask.
"Oh, yours of course," she replies, casting meaningful glances around. At this stage there were no plans for marriage, nor even talk of it. We broke up a couple of months later.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 13:04, Reply)

Pack Your Bags, 'Cause We're Going on a...
Guilt Trip.
Went down to me Aunt's and she immediately starts in with how lonely she is, how noone else in the family ever visits, how poor she is, blah, blah, blah. I am fed up so I tell her, you have one half-hour of bitching and then I leave.

Well, this turns out to be the best present ever. Nevermind that Dad takes her shopping and to Church twice/week, my M.D. sis visits every month, little sis waits on her hand & foot and brother "Hello Kitty" dumps cash on her the first of every month (he lives five hours away).

So time's up and I head towards the door.
"Where are you going?
"I'm Done."

I am the only one in the tribe that will talk back to her. My family loves me for it.
(Lister, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 12:49, Reply)

The Life Sucking Bitch
Recently had a little sprog with a girl who is the master of this trick.

"Do you want to feed the baby?"

There is no reply to that question other than yes that doesn't lead to an argument. Oh and it is asked regarless of what you are currently engaged in. I think the most interesting thing I was doing so far was being in the middle of hanging a wall cabinet.

It's great being me
: - (
(myohmy, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 12:40, Reply)

F**king Mothers, born with qualififcations in passive aggressive
My mother sits in the house all day drinking, and when I go see her she spends an evening either accounting tales of people I've never met and/ or don't like, OR has a tantrum and says she needs something from the shops refuses to let em give a lift and then leaves the house rain or shine. So I then Have to leave, in my car, and drive past her while she gives me stinking looks above my shouts for her to get in.
(rhyddman, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 12:35, Reply)

An unintentional guilt trip...
A few years ago, I went for a week's holiday with Mr Rakky to Amsterdam. We spent a pleasant few days getting minced and watching porn - really quality time together. One afternoon, emerging from the gloom of a coffee shop, I realised that my wallet had been stolen. In it was all the money, credit cards train tickets etc. In a panic, but still out of my tree, I phoned my mum to ask her what I should do. After a bit of faffing around, she called me back and said that she'd organised a Western Union transfer of some cash and that she'd cancelled all my cards. I was so grateful that she'd done all this for her stupid pot-addled daughter that i said "Mum, I don't know how I can ever thank you." Except it came out as "I'm not sure I can ever forgive you for this." There was an awful stunned silence on the other end of the phone. Then a tiny voice said "Yes dear." Arse...

Did you hear that? That was sound of my b3ta hymen ripping...
(Rakky, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 12:33, Reply)

It's a female thing isn't it?
Girlfriend calls up crying.
"What's wrong?" I say.
"You never want to spend time with me!" she wails.
"But-but-but-I saw you last night. And the night before you stopped over at my house, and the night before that..."
"I'm just in the waaaaayy! You only spend time with me if you've nothing better to do and you don't want to come out with me tonight!"
"Did I say that? What the fuck?"
"Don't you want to come out tonight?"
"Well, if you're going to spend the time alternating between crying and accusing me of neglecting you or not loving you, then frankly, no."
"Waaaah!"

Even the most together and secure-in-themselves girls I've known have pulled this sort of thing out of the bag. Usually, and this is the crucial thing, during that time of the month though to mention any correlation between hormonal imbalace and manipulative hysterical behaviour would result in a verdict of suicide on the coroner's report.
( emvee cruor deo cruoris, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 12:32, Reply)

Rodger's passive/aggressive guilt free afternoon
The other day I left my cubicle during work hours for an extended period. I often do this. I only do this because no one says anything -stupid government nimrods. Sometimes I just walk the streets aimlessly, other times I go home or to the movies. Anyway this day I went to the Swingers Adult Theatre, about 10 minutes walk away. I was sitting watching a movie about 2 ladies weeing on each other when a great big man wearing only workboots and socks came out of one of the cubicles and slapped me repeatedly in the face with his tockley. As I said he was a huge man, maybe a labourer from one of the building sites, so I just sat there and thought of my favourite
A Team episode. He went away after a few minutes. A little later a young guy of middle eastern appearance resplendent in a tiara, exotic black wrap around and moulded padded breast type things beseeched me to enter his cubicle. Well I bet he's sorry. I gave it to him, drove him into next week you might say. Then I went home on the bus and had a rest. Guilt? Me. Nah.
(rodgerroop, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 12:22, Reply)

Via email
my friend let me know that I hadn't been asked to be a godparent to her youngest (despite the fact that if I hadn't have gone on holiday with her, she wouldn't have met the father and therefore wouldn't have conceived the yongest...)

I mailed her to let her know that I was a bit pissed off and hurt about this, seeing as I wasn't even to be told about the baptism (lots of other friends were also kept in the dark, with a very weak excuse given)

Her response? I quote:

"I'm very sorry you feel that way. We didn't ask you, not because you're not good enough to be a godparent but because I've always wanted X to be godmother to one of my kids. You will definitely be asked to be godmother to my next baby, although I hasten to add I won't be having any more as my family is complete."

So, they are (subtly) suggesting I'm not good enough for this child, but I'd be perfect for the next, never-to-be-born offspring. Funnily enough, I haven't spoken to her since...
(ricky_darkholer is blonde on the inside, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 12:13, Reply)

My ma
she's 1/2 Italian so is on the permanent aggressive!

Anyway...about 8 years ago when a pile of cops bundled round the parental home to search for fruitcake....my mother said 'I looked out of the window and shouted have you forgotton your key again and was faced with 5 policemen'

Oops
(Oops....did I say that out loud cos I really bloody want to., Thu 13 Oct 2005, 12:05, Reply)

young and drunk
Rewind 16 or so years. It's xmas eve and I'm 14 years old. "Mother, I'm going to a party at a friends house and will be home before midnight so father christmas won't take my presents back."
5 hours later police find me slumped in a phone box incoherent and drooling as a teen does after lashings of cider. Taken home and wake the next morning..xmas day mind you..to a thrashing by father and mothers quote of. "It's the lying that upsets us". "Hmm" says I "what do you reckon the chances last night of me getting anywhere near the front door if I'd told you I was out to get shitfaced on a street corner with a gang of like-minded youths? None I'll wager" cue further thrashing from father and wailing from mother. A lovely xmas all told....

Slightly off subject maybe but I rarely post so gimme a break.
(bluebiscuit, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 12:02, Reply)

Uhm..
I just act oblivious to my girlfriends passive aggressiveness...I musch prefer an argument where I can be frightened.

"Oh, your going out tonight with your mates? Well, I guess I can sit at home and do some extra work for Uni..."

Honestly, she's now about 3 weeks ahead of the course :D
(Milkshake, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 11:55, Reply)

The mother in law.
Well, my long term partners mum anyway.

She's the most passive agressive person I have ever met.

Not only that but she is a terrible mother and grand mother.

She'll have the kids and then spend the months leading up and months after going on about how they'll only misbehave when she has them anyway. And how lucky we are that she see's them once a year.

The real pisser is that my missus has now started down a similar path. I get it all. Months of emotional blackmail before and after any event that I'm planning to do without her. Constant reminders of how unhappy she is with every aspect of life and how it's all my fault. But never directly to me. It's driving me bloody insane! :-)
( Evil Bastardo, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 11:43, Reply)

Guilt trips
Aged about 7, my Nana would give me some spends, then open her purse and get great delight in showing me that she had £1.50 to last her the rest of the week.
(finbarr, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 11:42, Reply)

Passive-Aggressive? Just plain cruel
You'd think it'd be the upper generation that lays the guilt trip on, alas.. they don't, they're wonderful.

However. My 4 year old has got it down to an artform in one line.

Mini-me: Do want to play with me?

This is not an innocent question, its loaded to the hilt.
If you say Yes, you have to drop everything you're doing, and not allowed to stop or the question, "You no want to play with me anymore" accompanied by the hung head and sad face.
If you say No, he'll drop the bombshell "Are you no my friend?"
Excerpt from conversation this morning.

Son: Can we play a game?
Me: Not just now, I've just woken up and I need some coffee.
Son: You no want to play with me because you just woke up.
Me: Yeah, maybe later once I've had a coffee.
Son: So you're not my friend? You might be my friend after a coffee?

Aaarrrrrgh... I'm sure he misunderstands what the word friend means, but its... hang on... I've got to go play a board game.. I'll finish this later....
(NoMoreFaith can believe its not bloody butter, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 11:42, Reply)

stupid sister
picture this:

i'd been working all day (8 hour day with only 45min break in between) then went to work another 7 hours at my ex-weekend job. Got home at 2am and decided to sit down and chill out in front of the tv watching infomercials. Doing what they do best, i managed to fall asleep/pass out in front of the tv.

Suddenly at about 4am, i hear this loud banging on my front door. Then the windows. Then i hear my name being yelled outside. I open the door to see my sister, drunk and crying. I ask her what her problem is, and i get "because you wouldn't answer your phone, i had no way to get home so i had to give the taxi driver a blow job to come here and drop me off"

as if that wasn't enough, i told her to walk off the booze and go home. I firmly said i wasn't going to be driving her home because i was too stoned and half asleep. She goes "well, i don't expect you to drive me home.. i'll just walk home in this cold wind, by myself, at 4 in the morning. Don't worry about me, i'll be fine"

i go "ok, see ya tomorrow" and shut the door.

about a minute later she comes back and starts banging on the door and windows again, i open the door and she starts hurling this abuse to me "you don't care about me, why do you hate me so much wah wah wah.. its cold out here"

i throw her an old jumper of mine and tell her to piss off or i'll call the cops. Then i shut the door and turn all the lights off. I didn't hear from her again til i called her the next day.. to which she was completely back to normal

haha i love passive aggression.. no one gets my sympathy when i get rudely woken up
(brotagaia, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 11:37, Reply)

I have a cure...
...for people who do this - respond to PAGT's of the 'so you'd rather...' / 'don't you worry about me' / 'you go right ahead' category with this simple phrase:

'Look, either say what you mean or just keep your fucking mouth shut, you manipulative twat'.
Garnish to taste with something like, '...not got the time, the patience or the fucking waistline to walk on eggshells, got it?'

It works like a charm - a number of girlfriends, boyfriends (variety due to latent homosexuality) and close relatives have gotten the message straight away. Admittedly, one or two of them have, er, re-assessed thier relationship with me as a result, but if they're the type that enjoy turning some poor bugger into a life-size marionette with that shite, then the chances are we're both better off without.

Hmm, I think this one may have touched a nerve with me - ah well, bile can be a good thing as long as you don't have to drink it afterwards :)
(thatblokeoverthere not quite as much an arsehole as I thought, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 11:37, Reply)

Parenting tip #1
Most effective way to disarm your child;

"I'm not angry, I'm just disappointed"

Works every time.

B*stards.
(Spoil Me please, oh, please, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 11:33, Reply)

unstoppable tide of guilt. and babies.
SEVEN of my wife's friends are currently pregnant for the first time.

My wife is not.

Need I say more.
(Ali Bongo 9000 Ali Bongo 9000, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 11:24, Reply)

I don't understand the question ?
Why can't you make them easier?! I'm sick and tired of damned hard questions. Do you think I can afford to sit here and waste my time looking up those long words?

/harumph!!!
( Signify, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 11:07, Reply)

I laid the guilt trip on my Dad the other year,
he went mental because I moved the freeview box from one room to another, and he could't figure out how to reconnect it himself so he could watch some shitty program that night.

He bursts into my room and says something like, "You are not supposed to move that fucking box! See all the trouble you have caused by doing this?" (He said more but I can't be arsed typing it.)

I simply replied, "Dad, Mum told me to move it, and could you please go away as I am trying to revise for my maths A Level which is at 9am tomorrow"

Once he realised that I was right, and outsmarted him, we didn't speak for about half a week.
( moomin-papa ; folkin class., Thu 13 Oct 2005, 11:05, Reply)

The girlfriend, yesterday
"I guess you had a good day at work, darling, I stayed at home and did some laundry. And whilst I was cleaning out your pockets, I found this Bounty wrapper..."

(wrapper had been ironed flat, and was presented on the pristine white kitchen table)

I look at her, she looks at me. Her eyes never waver. I droop my neck, put my coat on, and go to the shop to buy her a Bounty.
( Grrrmachine the indifference engine, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 10:52, Reply)

I'll always remember, with fond memories,...
...the time my Dad left my Mum.

I'd been planning on moving out myself when he dropped the bombshell, announcing he'd beaten me to it and I had to stay with my Mum "because she needs you". Cut to several weeks of purgatory later and my Mum comes to me for a 'chat'.

"I just wanted to let you know that if anything happens to me, the mortgage will be paid up. We've got insurance."

I sat and quietly nodded, fully understanding what she was getting at, but refusing to comment. She continued.

"See, the thing is, I can't carry on without him."

I then spend quite some time trying to explain to her that suicide isn't really something that she should be contemplating. Who'd iron my shirts, for heaven's sake? :o)

Of course, I'm then in the wonderful position where every time I come home I never quite know what I'm going to find when I walk in the door. Hanging from the rafters? Holding an empty paracetemol bottle? Ah, the joys of divorce...

I could write a book on the number of times the old ratbag has ruined something good in my life by ensuring her own needs were vociferously campaigned for. Emotional blackmail is her forte. Considering she's almost illiterate and can barely string a meaningful sentence together - she once blamed television interference on 'Asthmatic Ferrets' instead of 'Atmospherics' - she's absolutely bloody fantastic at making me feel guilty for having anything approaching a life.

I have long since moved out, but every time she phones me she says, "I thought I'd better phone you because you NEVER phone me".

I am consumed with anger because, despite all her shortcomings, I still love the old ratbag.
(Ravenhill, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 10:50, Reply)

My problem is your fault...
I once made the mistake of employing someone who used to be a friend. This 'friend' had barely worked a day in her life and in her late thirties decided she needed some work experience. Foolishly I got her a job working with me.

After a long period of putting up with her demands, I had to point out that I didn't exist to fetch and carry for her and that the workplace was not going to be custom designed for her needs (sitting down in the warm on her fat arse doing f*ck all) and that I really didn't see much point in her continuing to 'work' for the company.

Her response to any criticism was to smile patronisingly, look off into the distance with a semi-vacant look and say "I really don't think you should bring your personal problems into work".

It was so passive aggressive that it still makes me angry now! That was about five years ago and I still want to smash her in the face with a big hammer repeatedly, until I have eliminated every last trace of that smug f*cking smile. And then set fire to her. And then do it all all over again. Aaaaarggh!
(Wascally Weasel now with 100% fewer jokes., Thu 13 Oct 2005, 10:50, Reply)

My mum..
Lovely woman, but Queen of the Guilt trip. For example, last year we went out for her Birthday for a biiig posh meal (the kind of place where they expect you to eat your pizza with a knife and fork!) If it was a member of your table's birthday, you could ask for the waiters to come up and sing happy birthday and wave sparklers about.

When my mum found out about this she got all panicky and said "Oh no, please don't get them to come over, I'll get all embarrassed, I just want to eat my food, have some drinks then go home!" Fair enough, thought I, and we didn't bother.

When we were leaving, it was obvious my mum was in a bit of a huff. I asked what the matter was and she hissed: "I can't believe you didn't get them to sing happy birthday to me... you don't love me at all!"

Erm..... Yeah. Woo anyway, first post!

Apologies for length, but if you say it's too short or too narrow, I'm going to slit my wrists RIGHT NOW!!!
(theneuroticpanda, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 10:47, Reply)

truetruetrue
My mum to my girlfriend, who had just moved to england and had recently passed her university degree:

"well done dear, we didn't think you could do it!"

(this kind of thing happens quite a lot when your mum's first language eesn't eengleesh)
( fridge_magnet, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 10:30, Reply)

Don't trouble yourselves clicking 'I Like This!'
I've decided I don't want to win this week's question so don't bother voting for me. Sure it would be nice and all but my priorities have all changed since our Johnny was killed in that underwater explosion. And what with that coming on the heels of my entire family being killed in the yachting/floating zoo accident where Grandma was murdered by an enraged giraffe. Sure, winning this week would give me a reason to keep living, but that's fine, you just go on about your lives, don't worry about me.

P.S. On an unrelated matter, does anyone have a noose I can borrow?
( Gleeballs is mostly made out of chocolate and hate., Thu 13 Oct 2005, 10:05, Reply)

Celtic relatives
Anyone who has a relative from the Celtic rim (fnarr, fnarr) will really get this joke:

Q. How many Irish grandmothers does it take to change a lightbulb?
A. None. You go out and enjoy yourself. I'll just sit here in the dark.
( calgacus Non sum qualis eram bonae sub regno Cynarae, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 10:05, Reply)

My Granny
She was the ace at this. She would say "I'm all alone in the world". And then lean face-forward into her dinner. At Christmas. When she had been invited down especially *and* after my dad had driven a 450 mile round trip to pick her up, just to prove she wasn't bloody alone.

I know it's really bad to feel this way about your grandparents, but after a 'holiday' that involved her telling everyone that she wished she was dead (and incidentally pointing out that we all weren't a patch on generations of the Weasel family gone by) I think we all kind of wished that she was.

Edit: That's not really a passive aggressive thing is it? That's more mad as a badger really...
(Wascally Weasel now with 100% fewer jokes., Thu 13 Oct 2005, 10:01, Reply)

Girlfriends are expert at this:
“Oh you want to go out with mates Saturday night?”

“No no no, that’s cool, you go out and have a wicked time… I need to reorganise my stationary anyway.”
(Minty Hit, Thu 13 Oct 2005, 10:00, Reply)