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This is a question Horrible things I've done to a loved one

You shat on her Justin Bieber poster because you adore her. She cleaned the toilet bowl with your toothbrush for the same reason. Tell us of the times true love has not been as true as it should

Suggested by Edenmonster

(, Thu 16 Jun 2011, 12:56)
Pages: Popular, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

Not me directly,
but my pet. I remember when my friend gave me the bad news.

"Your walrus hurt the one you love," he said.
(, Wed 22 Jun 2011, 4:22, 6 replies)
When I was eighteen
my mom, brother, and stepdad moved into a new house with a sizable yard for an in-town place - 3/4 of an acre for those of you still stubbornly using Imperial measurements.

They extensively landscaped it and, as the grass was all new were watering it twice a day (underground sprinklers on a timer).

For no apparent reason, I took the cat out into the middle of this broad expense of lawn shortly before the sprinklers were due and dropped her there. She was happy enough to sniff all of the interesting smells.

When the first rumble of water flooding the pipes came she froze, trying to figure out what it was. Then two dozen sprinkler heads burst out of the ground with a loud hiss and began throwing water in all directions. And like Neo dodging bullets in slow motion, she shot across dozens of meters of turf, twisting and ducking streams and droplets until she was able to get to the safety of the driveway and the bushes on the other side.

Why did I do this? Malicious boredom.
(, Wed 22 Jun 2011, 3:39, 4 replies)
I made my dad kill his boss
Bloody Emperor.
(, Wed 22 Jun 2011, 1:21, Reply)
nothing. i'm very nice.

(, Wed 22 Jun 2011, 0:57, 2 replies)
I once made my mum
bring me a cup of tea, and then wank me off whilst I drank it.
(, Wed 22 Jun 2011, 0:22, 3 replies)
I once strangled my girlfriend.
She was small and, as a disproportionate number of women seem to be, constantly cold. I throw off lots of heat, so her favourite way to sleep was me spooning, with my arm under her head as a pillow.

So one morning, I apparently started pulling my pillow arm in, caging her throat as I did so. By the time she had woken up enough to realize what was happening, she had no air left.

She tried to struggle free, but I was too strong. She tried to say my name to wake me, but she could only gasp weakly. Finally she kicked back with her heel and connected with my shin, waking me instantly.

As I sat up and asked her what was going on, she hissed "Youtriedtochokemeyoubastard!". I had no idea what she was talking about.

She forgave me eventually, but her friends were noticeably cooler towards me once the story got around.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 23:48, 3 replies)
I seem to make a habit of it.
I hadn't been getting on with my wife... blah, blah, blah, convoluted bollocks etc. Turns out I was Henry VIII...
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 22:50, 7 replies)
i felt some harm had been done so i stuck his toothbrush up my bum (the bristly end)lose lose situation really if i was thinking clearly i would have just pissed on it.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 21:58, 2 replies)
How not to break the news to someone...
I've always been a bit of a performer in life; School plays, am-dram, all the really socially acceptable hobbies, until last year that is. I've been part of the northern burlesque scene for a couple of years as a photographer, taking photos of scantily-clad ladies shaking their tassels around the stage. After one particularly entertaining gig with a local circus group present, in exchange for some publicity photos I was offered the chance to learn firebreathing. With a battle-cry of "What the hell", I went for it, and things seemed to snowball from there...

I ended up learning more tricks over the next few weeks, and combining with my stage experience, I started performing for audiences, which my parents, although wary about initially, supported my little gigs. However, things started to change towards January; I'd been booked to perform at a burlesque night, and as I'd considered it beforehand, I decided that I'd combine my fireplay with getting my kit off. The result was...interesting; A dodgy step back up onto stage and a costume malfunction made things not exactly run smoothly (You can see the performance at www.youtube.com/watch?v=elrVTjWw7bE), but the audience loved it, and I loved that, so I stuck with it.

I failed to mention the stripping part to my parents.

Fast-forward to March, and another gig booked in, with a bit of publicity attached. Me and the organiser were whisked away to a well-known Yorkshire newspaper for a photoshoot and interview so we could get some more people interested before the event. I figure the story'll be buried somewhere on the entertainment page, under "Local nut-job sets fire to self", or something like that, so I didn't really worry about it. Cue a few days later when I open the paper, and what do I see?

My big gurning face plastered all over Page 3.

Needless to say, my parents decided that it was their day to buy this newspaper, and when I got back home that evening there were some interesting reactions. Bless them though, my parents are people of infinite patience, and after they got used to the idea they were happy with me performing.

Although I doubt they'll be showing up at any of my gigs any time soon.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 21:52, 6 replies)
One time when my nephew was wanking with his headphones on, I pretended to be his mum and left a cup of tea on his bedside table.
Also, I got chilli on my cock.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 19:40, 3 replies)
I play my girlfriend at chess
which is pretty cruel when you think about it
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 19:31, 8 replies)
A previous post shamed me into admitting this.
I sometimes beat my girlfriend, sometimes a few times in one night.
Usually, though, she beats me or we just go at it for a while but nobody wins.
Online trivia games are fun.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 17:44, 2 replies)
I just farted in my cats face
No fucking cheezeburgers here, mate.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 15:59, 6 replies)
I pissed in my brothers shoe
and then blamed it on the foxes.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 14:46, 7 replies)
Dirty tricks
Not me, but a friend, dreamt up quite a nasty little trick.

He kept an open bag of Cadbury's buttons next to his side of the bed waiting for his moment to strike. Then, while his girlfriend was sleeping in the nick following an evening of the rumpy and the pumpy, he slid some buttons between her bum cheeks.

Naughty boy.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 13:26, 13 replies)
This has been touched upon in replies to other questions,
but, the reason I am not really getting involved this week is that you don't get to be an alcoholic and come through to try and stay sober without having to live with having done some pretty horrendous things to people you love and who love you. Whether it is by selfishness and withdrawing from the world, to missing out on simple things you should be sharing with people, to things said in anger, or the worry you will have caused. To the people you've hurt when behaving impulsively, who you've cheated on, lied to, abandonded or just made feel small and helpless.

And although there's normally not much I won't overshare on QOTW, almost every story I think of this week makes me want to apologise directly to the person I did it to and not share it here.

Although I have to say, I never, once, stuck my finger up my girlfriend's arse, then in her mouth, then fucked off to the pub for seven hours, so I have that going for me at least.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 12:11, 15 replies)
Threatening to bash mummy.
I'm going to preview this tale with a couple of salient points - I'm an only child, my mum was a single mother all of my life by her own choice (she had boyfriends but never wanted to settle down). She raised me to be generally polite and respectful towards people who had earned my respect, she also taught me to never hit a woman (which I have followed as rule ever since). We very rarely got on (chalk & cheese) but I had a lot of respect for her due to her drive and achievements.
About 5 years ago my mum died. It was mostly the lung then brain cancer that got her (but she did manage to get her PhD 6 mths. before she karcked it - I made sure she was Dr. on her grave slab thing as it was obviously important to her). She was adamant that she wanted to stay at home for as long as possible, which meant I had to care for her and eventually coordinate all her home-care. This entailed me basically having to leave my wife and bubby and return to the family manse to live (on & off) for about 6 mths. which as you might imagine was fairly stressful.
I had to attend to all of my small,frail mum's needs. Including bodily lifting her into and out of the bath (she was a Pom and I indulged her because she loved having a bath - 1 regret I have is that when she went into palliative care I tried very hard to get her a bath and couldn't). Anyway - one night I just couldn't do it. Mum started getting upset @ not having her bath and things went from there. All of the frustration I'd felt over the last 6 mths. came out - having to wait for hours at a time after the scheduled appt. time to see her oncologist, missing my missus & 2 yo. daughter, watching my mum get even sicker after every round of chemo/radio. Everything... I ended up standing over my mum shouting at her (bearing in mind that we fought like cats & dogs anyway).
She said to me at a lull in my tirade -
"Are you going to hit me now?" not flinching but genuinely scared.
I knew she was being manipulative. But it stopped me dead.
I said matter-of-factly - "No Mum. You've always taught me not to hit women." But it hit me a bit like a brick shouldn't (thank you Mr. Adams). In that moment I saw my mum as human being rather than a parent and it scared, shamed but enlightened me.
Non-the-less the horror feeling I had & the fact that my mum seriously thought I might have hit her left me sobbing. (Call me an Internet Pussy once you've worn these soles 9-2-5).
She gave me a big hug.
To all the Usual Suspects - trust me nothing you could possibly say would make me feel any worse than that moment. But I'll steal your thunder by saying -
My Mom.
Apologies for length? Try the 2 years it took from her being diagnosed to when she died.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 11:18, 61 replies)
Pearost but I still feel bad Mum
When I was 14, you bought me a Sega Megadrive as a surprise Christmas present and hid it in your cupboard. You bought it early (maybe around August) to ensure you had it in plenty of time.

Unfortunately you underestimated the sheer nosiness of your son, and one bored afternoon when you took my sister to ballet, I found it along with a copy of Sonic the Hedgehog.

I couldn't believe my luck, so I thought I would push it as far as humanly possible. I very carefully unpacked it from the box and proceeded to plug in and play for the next hour until I was certain you were due home.

I repeated this little ritual twice a week (in tandem with my sister's ballet lessons) right up until Christmas when to be honest I was a bit bored of it.

The lack of enthusiasm on my face Xmas morning must have broken your heart, as I barely touched the thing all day. I always feel bad about this at Xmas, especially as I now have my own kids and know how hard it is to save up for things you think they'll love.

Still it serves her right for never buying me a Mr.Frosty when I asked for one every year, and buying my sister one when she didn't even want it.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 11:06, 10 replies)
Drove while drunk
And killed my passenger, as well as myself.

I'm such a jackass.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 10:41, 12 replies)
After quite an argument one morning
she went out in a bit of a strop. The peace and quiet was nice, but then I realised she'd taken the wireless router with her. I couldn't get on the internet at all. I think she was expecting me to cut the grass and trim the hedge as otherwise I would be bored rigid. So I completed the last 2/3rds of Half Life 2 and made a start on FEAR so her ploy to spoil my day of reading B3ta and trolling the website of the local rag was all for nothing.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 10:41, Reply)
After rudies
I always make sure she lies in the wet patch, by pulling out and spunking on her tits and face.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 10:33, 1 reply)
My younger brother
bought a Suzuki ER50 when he was 16. He was absolutely beside himself with excitement as my Mum took him to pick it up. I was 20 at the time, and had an RD250LC, so I was determined not to be impressed with this silly little kids bike.

He wobbled his way home, and arrived on the drive with a fanfare of 'Win-din-din-din-din' 2 stroke noise, and a few 'peep-peep' noises from the hooter, signalling that I should go outside and check out his new machine. He sat stride his pride and joy, revving it gently.

'Go on, give it some throttle', says I. He dutifully wound it up to a screaming crescendo, whereupon I stamped on the gearlever, putting it into first gear.

I swear, he didn't move an inch. The bike flew out from under him, leaving him standing exactly where he was, and wheelied down the drive before landing in a heap in a nice soft bush.

At 20, I was pretty much independant. I still got grounded for a week.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 10:07, 6 replies)
Last Saturday I woke up to a very angry girlfriend indeed.
She said she had woken up in the night to find me sat on the end of her bed pissing on the floor. I of course knew this to be a lie. I looked at the end of her bed, and the floor was dry, with no hint of a pissy smell. She used the fact that her shed hair was stuck to the tiles and not fluffy as proof. I was having none of it.

She then picked up her shoe, which was quite wet and did smell a bit of piss, and waved it in my face. I saw this for the ruse it was; she had obviously pissed on her shoe during the night, and was using this planted evidence against me, so I grabbed the shoe, and rubbed it on her face, accidentally elbowing her in the face in the ensuing scuffle.

This led to a good half hours nagging, which got right on my tits, so I threatened her with an infilltration; an idle threat I often make, but never follow through with, which is why she didn't take me seriously. This time though I whipped her knickers off, stuck my finger up her bum, and put it in her mouth, which is, of course, what an infilltration is. Things quietened down after that. Mostly because we were both laughing so much.

The question of breakfast came up, and I offered to go to the supermarket for bacon and eggs. She agreed, so I posted what I had done in QOTW suggestions on b3ta, and headed into town. My hangover was kicking in at this point, so I decided one to blow away the cobwebs was in order. When she came and found me seven hours later, she was the second most angry I have ever seen her.

That night we had a discusion about the future of our relationship. I was hammered, and refused to promise not to do similar things again on the grounds it's a promise I can't keep.

Things are fine now.

I'm nice really, I promise.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 8:48, 15 replies)
Siouxsie Sioux wouldn't answer my letters
so I started Sum 41.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 7:27, 3 replies)
old school prank went bad.
okay this is kinda mundane but when i was at high school we had a cemetry out the back of the school and my house backed onto the cemtry at the other side...

one particular year me and a couple of mates tried to pull a prnk on a couple of friends by placing masks etc throughout the graveyard.. i even used the guy intended for 5th and made it look like someone had hung themselves...

so feeling quite proud we set the bait and sat to watch... half an hour later and my younger sister finds the bait and walks into the GY, queue much screaming and running back home...

good news is the guy worked like a charm, bad news is my parents moved house because my sister was so scared of the gy, and my xmas was also canceled that year..

still don't care though, it was worth it.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 6:09, 2 replies)
Men are a bunch of bastards, Chapter 835
OK, bear with me, gentle readers. I hesitated a long time before posting this, not least because if the fact that it has been posted on the interwebs became known, my life would become a very fetid and stinky place for a very long time. So, in time-honoured tradition, some details have been changed to protect the guilty, but the essence remains the same.

A little while ago I was on the verge of breaking free of what can only be described as an abusive relationship. It wasn't her fault, really, as she'd had a bit of a strange upbringing and didn't apply the conventional rules for being in a relationship, but still, the psychological damage was there for the offering to anyone who stepped within intimate range. I'd returned to my home town, having shacked up with her for about six months before realising there was no way it was going to work, and had gone out on the town to celebrate my fresh status as a single man. Several months later, I was going out with a greenhorned girl several years younger than I (mid-twenties to my early thirties), after having sworn that I would play the field and not settle down with anyone for a good while. The fact that I wasn't over my previous love, combined with the fact that my new love wasn't right for me for a whole range of reasons too tedious to be contained within this margin, meant that the new girl and I ended up officially splitting about six months down the line.

I say "officially" for a reason: in true bastard male fashion, I continued to see her and sleep with her for numerous weeks whilst in the very process of trying to renew my relations with my original love, who to her credit had expended enormous efforts to remedy the problems that had made me flee in the first place. For several months I saw Girl 2 during the week and Girl 1 at the weekend, neither suspecting that I was still in contact with the other.

The climax (fnarr) occurred one evening after Girl 2 turned up on my doorstep in tears one evening. I'd had a few beers on that particular evening, so rather than send her packing and concentrate my efforts on rebuilding whatever relationship I might have had with Girl 1, I invited Girl 2 in and was very...sympathetic. Half an hour later, and halfway through the sympathy, my mobile phone rang. Girl 1 wanted to know whether I had seen Girl 2 recently. What I neglected to tell Girl 1 was that I had unplugged myself from being conkers deep in Girl 2 to answer the phone, and had replugged myself in during the conversation. "No...haven't seen her in ages...I really want to see you again...", all while buried up to the nads in Girl 2.

Bonus bastard points: that was the night I introduced Girl 2 to anal. Yes, I have no soul; what did you expect? I'm ginger.
(, Tue 21 Jun 2011, 0:50, 7 replies)

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