Bless me father for I have sinned



About ten years ago now.

A mate of mine, Joe, who was always a bit 'fragile' had a serious mental breakdown. He was diagnosed with schizophrenia after he broke into a cafe, smashed up the place and then tried to top himself.

Anyway, we all rallied round to help him through it, well, everyone but the selfish cunt that is yours truly who resented this baby sitting lark.

He constantly called round to our house as it was near the city centre and his parents trusted us to look after him. The odd visit I wouldn't have minded but he practically moved into our front room and would spend night after night drinking umpteen cups of tea and hogging the tv remote.

A few months of this and I'm getting more and more fed up. Then one night, as he was wittering on and on about his problems, I lost it, opened the front door and invited him to stand on the other side of it as I'd had enough. He stormed off down the road and I breathed a sigh of relief.

The following morning, there was loud knocking on my door. His mother and sister were outside wanting to know where Joe was as he hadn't come home the night before. Before I could stop myself, I came out with "Eh? But he left here for the last bus in fine form." They left highly upset to contact the police and I tried to get my story together.

Long story short, Joe showed up two days later after going on a major bender - mixing whiskey with his pills which wasn't a good idea. He smashed up several cars and tried to break into a pub several miles outside the city. He had no memory of me chucking him out, in fact, he didn't recall even being at my house that night so I was in the clear.
(Fanta Menace Is tall enough to see over the fence, Fri 31 Aug 2007, 13:32, Reply)