Poor Lamb
I once had the misfortune to start dating a friend of mine when we were both on the rebound from previous relationships which had dissolved. It rapidly became apparent to everyone other than the poor lass involved that she was rather more interested in maintaining this relationship than I was, but I kept at it because, y'know, having a girlfriend is generally better than not having one.

While we were going out, a variety of misfortunes befell us.

First of all I accidentally set fire to her flat by throwing away a bottle of surgical spirit into a bin and then thoughtlessly flicking fag ash on the top. It turned into a fairly major fire and damaged quite a lot of her belongings before we got enough extinguishers to get it under control.

Then I took her to the cinema, and because I demanded to go for a beer afterwards we missed the last bus home. Because I was then too tight to pay for a taxi we ended up taking the long walk home up the steepest, longest hill in the city (which in Bath is pretty damn steep). Not too much of an issue for me, who went hiking in the countryside most weekends, rather more an issue for a short goth woman in high heels who chain smoked and spent most of her time indoors.

The crowning moment was when she was at my flat, sitting astride a chair and rocking back and worth while we chatted until she lost control and went smack face first into the wall. She lost several teeth, one of which was embedded in the plaster and left a mark that I proudly showed to visitors for months afterwards.

Finally I got bored and did the decent thing - stopped returning her phone calls, avoided hanging out in her favourite pubs, ignored her friends in the street when we passed and, eventually, stopped answering the door until she got the message.

Alison, if you're reading, I've grown up since then and am really very sorry for the way I treated you. But it was never going to work.
(MattDP (Squiggle), Thu 16 Jun 2011, 16:13, Reply)

Xmas Shopping
Upon one of my mates suggestion i decided to go with some pals out xmas shopping in town.
Whilst browsing in one of Coventry's finest department stores (Owen's) one of my mate's Phil says
"lets get a drink it will ease the pain of the amount im spending on these bloody xmas presents"

Many pints later all three of us are wankered and decide shopping is going to have to go on hold.
We decide to do the decent thing and leave my friends car in town and get a taxi.

I get home and pay the taxi driver. As i leave the cab the fresh air hits me and i start to think "shit shit shit im going to hurl" so after five minutes of key prodding i open the front door.
At this point all the shopping bags hit the hallway floor and im speed running up the stairs towards the shitter. I fling open the crapper door and barf into what i thought was going to be a vacant toilet bowl. What actually happened was i projectile vomited all over my mrs who was in the seated position on the throne taking a dump !!

Obviously my acidic sick had ruined my mrs's favourite wollen sweat
and i had to make amends and give all the shopping trips xmas gifts (that were for my mrs) to my mrs early as extra bonus gifts to smooth things over.

I was asked later by my lady friend why i didn't throw up in the bath or sink.....
my lame reply was i didn't want to block them up......
(Cov Boy, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 16:10, 1 reply)

Drains
About four years ago I moved in with my partner. We were close but we were still getting to know each other’s habits and idiosyncrasies. One warm evening in Torquay, we had just gone to bed after a long day at work and I had opened the bedroom window to let some cool air in the bedroom.

What Jen didn’t know was that I have terrible farts and can be at my most farty at night / morning (usually a few hours after dinner).
When she was gently tucked up and starting to drift off to sleep, I managed to let off a gut wrenching (silent) fart which smelt like someone had died in a sewer.

I kept quiet.

A few minutes later, Jen turned over to me and said “Oh My God! What is that terrible SMELL!!!”. I very calmly replied “It’s the drains outside. The hot weather must have caused them to smell really bad”. “Can you close the window” she replied!
I had a very difficult time trying to contain my hysterical laughter but I did what she said and closed the window. For the next five minutes, I had to bite the duvet to help contain my laughter.

The perfect crime!

...She knows better than to trust me now!
(RJWEcology is just sharpening his axe on, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 16:05, Reply)

Knock loudly...
... then FUCKING WAIT for an answer.
That's the advice i'd proffer to any parent of a teenage any with his girlfriend in his room.

My mother, had she realised this wouldn't have been confronted with the sight of her 18 year old boy slipping the full un-restricted length to his future wife who's dainty ankles were locked in passion around his neck. Both of them being buck naked and unhindered by any quilty covering.

I think it was quite evident that we weren't interested in the takeaway order she'd come in to consult us over.

My brother, who would be collecting said meal was, however, most amused. Thankfully he declined to share the tale at our wedding.
(Greencloud Wanted to go fishing on, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 16:02, 6 replies)

Poo annoyance

When Mr DBS is on the toilet, I like to stand just outside the door sounding worried and alarmed saying things like: "What was that noise? ...Are you ok? ...WHAT WAS THAT JUST THEN? ...Did you hear that? ...Is everything alright in there?"

This absoutely enrages him, because apparently I 'ruin a good poo' and he 'can't go'.
(DBS, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 15:54, 13 replies)

I told my mum I'd been attacked by a bloke with a knife when she saw a big wad of gauze on my face.
When in fact I'd been to the doctors to have a mole removed from the corner of my eye.

I told her the truth about 5 seconds later when I saw how distressed she looked.
( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 15:42, Reply)

This will make your eyes water.
My wife was in the garden and had got some dust or grit in her eye, so she sat down in the chair in the living room and sent me upstairs for the Optrex.

No problem, I went to the cabinet, grabbed the distinctive little blue and white dropper bottle and went downstairs. She tilted her head back and I proceeded to drip the soothing fluid into her eye. It didn't seem to be working very well.

It was only when the smell hit my nostrils that I realised that I had picked up a bottle of Vicks Sinex nasal spray, and was happily squirting menthol and eucalyptus oil into my wife's peepers.

At this point, I ran back upstairs, found the real Optrex, used most of the bottle flushing her eye out, told her the amusing mistake and then ran away and hid.

Amazingly, all parts of my body are still intact, although it was a close run thing.
( Amish Information Systems hates misplaced, commas, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 15:11, 6 replies)

Drunken Pissery
Pat Gash's story reminds me of an incident at the very start of my marriage.

I had been out on the work Christmas meal, held in a pub in the middle of nowhere, and I arrived home very much the worse for wear. After collapsing into bed saying how much I really, really loved her, I passed out into a fitful sleep.

All too soon, I was awake again, the pressure on my bladder saying that several pints of Guinness were fighting to get out. So, I staggered to the bathroom, and let go with a gushing flow of urine.

At least, I thought it was the bathroom. There was a scream. The light went on, and there was another scream. What I thought was the toilet was, in fact, her dressing table, which was now swimming in piss.

Her hair dryer would never be the same again (which solved the mystery of what to get her that year), but there was worse to come. The veritable Niagra Fall of urine had found - as if laser-guided - my Christmas present, hidden under her dressing table.

So, Christmas Day, my present from my wife of the next twenty years was a signed and framed photograph of the 1989 league title-winning Arsenal squad, yellow and stinking of piss. A collector's item, I think you will agree.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 15:02, 5 replies)

My mate works with a woman called Sandra
Sandra is a small wee person, about 5ft 3 at the most. Sandra is married to Mike who is by comparison, rather large and hefty. He sounds a bit of a cunt because he uses it to his advantage and pins her down and farts on her head.
One day, she decides to get her own back. He was in the bath and she burst in, dropped her pants and farted at him in the bath.


And promptly followed through.

Apparently he moved extremely quickly.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 14:53, 3 replies)

An American Haunting
About 5 years ago, I took my girlfriend to the cinema to see An American Haunting, which is a pretty terrible horror film.
If you haven’t seen it, one of the scenes involves the main character, a teenage girl, who is sleeping in her bed but is then woken by the bed sheet slowly being pulled down to the floor by an unseen force, she is then hauled out of bed and is given a bit of a going over by the “ghost”. It’s quite a heavy scene.

The film really wasn’t that good but had some how managed to spook my girlfriend to the extent she couldn’t sleep that night, kept jumping at noises and was talking at me for comfort.
After a short amount of time this became quite annoying so I pretended to be a sleep, about five minutes later she had settled down and I could tell she was starting to doze off so I started slowly wriggling my feet in little circles which had the effect of dragging the duvet in slow jerks down the bed.

I would say you should have heard her scream but it’s quite possible that you did.
( Dervel OTBC, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 14:52, 3 replies)

TheManWithThePlan reminds me
"blah blah blah"
Madeleine McCann
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 14:47, 1 reply)

Mrs Vagabond is quite wee - 5'2".
On weekend mornings she has a habit of snuggling up behind me in bed, then manoeuvring her knees, then feet into the small of my back, and slowly pushing me out of bed, by which point, since I'm then "already up", she tends to conclude that I might as well go and make the coffee.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 14:45, 17 replies)

True story
After staggering home late one night following a heavy drinking session, I silently slid the key in the lock, took off my shoes, tip-toed up the stairs and into the bedroom before quietly removing the rest of my clothes and slipping into bed next to her. I then stealthily twisted myself off until I was ready for action, gently tugged her knickers down, spat on my cock and jammed it right in her tight little arsehole. It was the first time she’d ever had a cock in her tradesman’s, so as you can imagine it was quite a shock for her - the shriek she let out must’ve woken the whole street!
We had to put Nan in a home shortly after that incident, and the rest of my family still won’t speak to me :(
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 14:41, 1 reply)

I made my own gran eat sheep shit
Seriously. This is not on them qotw lies.

She was a greedy old so and so in her dottage, and would always squirrel away sweets about her person for later consumption, and would always pounce on anything we kids had.

Which is what led to the sheep shit incident, when, having returned to the car from a walk in the hills I brought some in by accident on the soles of my shoes, and got them on the seat as I clambered in.

"Ooooh, what are those!?" Says greedy gran
"Chocolate covered raisins" I replied

Nom nom nom fucking nom. Not proud.
( rofl harris, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 14:24, 2 replies)

I killed my Nan with a knife
Then bought her council house
(888777555, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 14:18, 5 replies)

It may not sound like much, but
When walking along holding hands, and one feels a sneeze coming, or an itchy nose, or a fly in the eye or whatever, one goes to lift one's hand to rid oneself of the feeling. Mrs Vagabond and I will resist - clamping harder onto their hand to disallow them to.

It can be really quite claustrophobic if you've suddenly got an itch or whatever.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:53, 2 replies)

Was in a club
with my mates, she with hers. Was boring so we left and went somewhere else, didn't tell her we'd gone.
(MikeyNiv can coin snatch 32 pennies, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:49, 6 replies)

It wasn't pre-meditated,
but I was once rifling through the top-draw of junk looking for some money or something, when I came across a box. Without thinking (that's me!) I took out the box, turned to my girlfriend who was sat on the bed and went down on one knee.

"Sarah?"
"Yes??" *glee hands*
*opens box*
"Have you seen my cuff links? They're ace aren't they?"

I won't fully describe what happened next, but much tears and flouncing was involved (and that was just me).

They were ace cuff links though.
( Zak McFlimby Twibbling @McFlimby, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:48, 16 replies)

I married her.
Too obvious ?
( number5 has been fighting tramps and losing., Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:39, 2 replies)

I made her move ...
to Norwich
(Biff..., Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:38, 8 replies)

Top 10?

( Agnostic Antichrist Baltimora, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:30, Reply)

Pissed freely and thoroughly...
on her revision notes and books, prior to an important exam.

In my defense:

I was sleepwalking/(pissing),

I was very very drunk,

It hasn't happened since in the following 10 years we've been together,

I did dry them all with a hairdryer for the next 4 hours.
(Pat_Gash, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:25, 2 replies)

"blah blah blah"
Josef Fritzl
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:09, 2 replies)

Ex-girl friend wakes me up in the middle of the night...
It's not what you think, she's had a TERRRIBLE NIGHTMARE. I hold her and when she's calmed down a bit, whisper in my best gruff monster voice "maybe it was real, bitch". Mean? Yep. True? Yep. Warranted for years of manipulation and beeling? Yep.
(impossibly witty twat No, YOUR Mum etc etc, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:08, 4 replies)

Made Rory Lyon Cry by being a nasty bully.

( The Mock Turtle ™ --- Thinks you are a cunt, on, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:05, 38 replies)

3

(Dan dan dan They tik urh jerbs!!!, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:02, Reply)

Horrible thing?
I turned out to be a raging homo, men men men.

Poor dad... He so wanted someone to watch football with...
(Helo, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:02, 12 replies)

WOOHOO 2 :)

(Bermuda_import Beach party this weekend, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:01, 2 replies)

I'm quite selfish in relationships
I always come first
(TheManWithThePlan cussed your mum on, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 13:01, Reply)