It's not just the quiet ones you have to watch out for...
It's their boyfriends as well.

First year at university, left it far far too late to sort out proper accomodation and ended up in a rancid basement somewhere on the Brighton seafront, sharing with a seemingly normal young woman. All started well. We shared stuff, and she could do the splits. Then she realised that a) this wasn't an episode of Friends, and b) she didn't actually like anyone very much.

She proceeded to get very demanding, bolshy, unreasonable, and attached to an intense, but small boyfriend who more or less moved in.

This was fine as I, along with the 17 other people crammed into this single family townhouse, would just amuse ourselves by laughing at her, and by laughing even harder at her boyfriend when he would threaten to 'Put us through a wall' for taking the piss out of her.

Did I mention he was small? And that five of us were in the rugby team, and therefore quite large? No? Well, it didn't seem to bother him though, as he knew something we didn't. We soon found out though.

The next year, after she had quit her course and gone off to spend her parents' money instead, there was an interesting article in the local paper. Seems her boyfriend, the little fella, had been caught literally red handed, as they were covered in the blood of the prostitute he'd just killed. He was also suspected of offing a couple more.

So now we knew too. He was a free range, grade A, no added sugar, mental bastard. Being put through a wall doesn't sound half bad in comparison.

Length? Well, she was reputed to have one like a mouse's ear, but judging from the sounds coming through the wall, he had no problem. I suspect that's where the problem started.
(Hampton St.Roker (has probably had your mum), Tue 10 Apr 2007, 15:33, Reply)