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This is a question Intense Friendships

The other night a friend confessed to a really intense friendship when he was young. Nothing sexual or anything, but it did extend to always going to the toilet together. As he put it, "we shared our poos."

Think back to the innocence of blood brothers and being friends forever and tell us the stories of loyalty, commitment and how it all went horribly wrong. You've seen Heavenly Creatures...

(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 10:21)
Pages: Popular, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.


Just remembered this one. It's too funny not to share.

I've had a fair few "best mates" over the years but one of the greatest was "Millage". We met as he was seeing the best mate of my girlfriend. Initially we didn't get on - in fact he hated my guts - but that all changed after a holiday together when his girlfriend dumped him and I was left to console him.

Time moved on and me and my GF split up and me and Millage became "pulling partners". (And no, not in the sense you're thinking of you filthy minded bastards!). We became a team who's one aim in life was to pull as many women as we could and have our wicked way with them.

My favourite tale about the two of us was the night we pulled two girls who were visiting Newcastle. We met them in one of our local bars and after a quick chat up they were ours. Mine was quite fit. Slim, dark with a decent figure. Millage's, however, was a moose. She was huge. Still, we weren’t fussy in those days and at the end of the night we escorted them to where they were staying - a campsite on the edge of town.

To cut a long story short we ended up in the tent with them and got down to business. Much fun was had until I heard:

"Tokyo? Tokyo? Come in Tokyo!"

Looking over too my left in the dim light of a torch I could see Millage on his back with the Moose riding him like a Grand National jockey. She was bent forward over him so her huge norks were either side of his head, practically resting on the ground and Millage had his hands clamped around her tits, pressing them to his head like they were earphones. At the same time he was twisting her nipples backwards and forwards, trying to tune them in and all the while he was saying:

"Tokyo? Tokyo? Come in Tokyo!"

Sex was impossible after that. Me and the girl I was with were crying with laughing - so much so that she almost passed out.

Great days and a great memory of a great bloke.

(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 17:37, Reply)
Cock tape
I knew two guys at my school who sellotaped their cocks together at the end. THAT'S JUST WRONG!!!
(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 13:27, Reply)
There But For The Grace Of God

Or how me and my best mate could have ended up in prison for life.

Looking back on my childhood it amazes me that I lived through it. The things we used to do were so incredibly, mind-numbingly dangerous that it's a miracle any of us survived. But we did. All of my gang made it through our childhood, past our teens and beyond - but how is a bloody mystery.

When I was kid in the 60's and 70's we used to spend most of our waking life outdoors. We’d play in the street, on derelict buildings, on building sites, out in the countryside, in farms, in quarries and even in the sewers (I'll explain about that later if I don't ramble too much). We were only indoors for school and to sleep. And some of the stuff we used to get up to was just incredible looking back on it now. For example we used to build dens in the fields. These weren't just a few bits of wood leaning against a tree, these were full-scale underground labyrinth that could take us an entire summer to excavate - they were bloody huge. And not only build them, we'd have to fight to keep them from rival gangs.

I remember one monster we dug. About 6 feet straight down then a maze of tunnels leading to a huge underground chamber. It was a feat of engineering braced and shored up with what was probably a small forest of branches and old timber. You could fit 25 kids in the main chamber easily. After we'd built it, it was taken from us by a bunch of older kids. They had girls and everything. Mightily pissed off that it was stolen, me and a mate decided to take it back - or destroy it. If we couldn't have it then nobody could.

So one fine summer day we went to take back our dugout.

Main problem we had was that there were two of us and around ten of them. They were also a few years older than us and considerably bigger. In a straight fight we'd have our heads kicked in. So a direct assault was out so that left a commando raid. My mate had managed to pinch a gallon of petrol in a can and I'd rounded up a load of bottles and some toilet paper. Only thing to do with these were petrol bombs. (It was the late-sixties. Paris riots and a all that so we knew how to make petrol bombs. Not that we had anything to do with the Paris Riots I hasten to add - but we'd gotten enough info so we knew how to make petrol bombs.). So we hid in some trees about 20 metres away from the dugout entrance and made about ten petrol bombs. We were using milk-bottles as previous experience had taught us that they were the best bottle for the purpose. Pop (soda) bottles might be bigger, but they were also too tough to break easily so milk bottles were our ordnance of choice.

Armed with our bombs we crept through the grass and assembled our little arsenal next to the main entrance. We knew the big kids were inside - we had seen them enter when we were making our bombs - so we were super-quiet until we had all bombs ready. Then we crept down the passage way (hands and knees - it wasn't very tall - and snuck up to the main chamber. I could see candle light and hear voices so we stopped and I stuffed the toilet-roll fuses into our bombs and brought out a Ronson lighter that I had. I lit the first bottle and lobbed it towards the light.. Ooops!

Armageddon! The petrol bomb smashed just on the entrance to the main chamber and WOOOOSSSSHHH! huge bloody fireball rolling back towards me. This wasn't in the plan. Luckily it stopped short of me but a blast of red-hot air almost knocked me off my feet. We didn't think that they'd go off quite like that. Shitting ourselves about what we'd done we scrambled madly from the entrance and legged it towards the trees.

And then I remembered the lads still below. We hadn't meant to kill them - only scare them We only wanted to get the fuck out of our property and leave us alone - not barbecue the bastards! Panic started to set in. We were in big trouble this time! And then I suddenly heard yells and screams and crying. Looking back onto the filed where the dugout was I saw the earth tremble and heave and then disgorge these smoking kids. They were crawling from the ground coughing and crying, snot running down there faces and clouds of black smoke were billowing out of new holes in the ground. Somehow these kids had managed to rip down some of the supports and the whole main chamber had collapsed and they'd struggled out of the burning dugout and into fresh air.

And do you know what? Not a single kid was injured. Nobody burned, nobody trapped under the collapsed dugout, nothing. Not a fucking scratch. Yes they were shocked and scared but that was it. A genuine miracle.

Can you imagine what would have happened if things had gone just a tiny bit differently? Seven or eight kids burned to death or crushed? They would have locked us up forever and thrown away the key. We would have been branded monsters. God looks after fools.....

Still scared about what could have happened, me and mate made a pact never to talk about it ever again. Until now.....

Kids today have it too easy. We had to make our own entertainment in those days.....

(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 17:01, Reply)
friends are weird
me and dave, my uber best mate, have one of those friend things where you always know what the other will say, and get odd urges to do something really un-pc at the most inappropriate time.

we met under crappy circumstances in secondary school, and started off hating each other, mainly cos i was annoying and quite hyper. it was only til the day our design teacher told him to ignore my annoyances that we forged a begrudging respect for each other, that eventually blossomed into friendship.

after all, anyone who can ignore me staining his whole arm purple, covering it with glue, bits of paper from a hole punch, glitter, and various items of stationary NEEDS respect.

anyway, that developed into our friendship today, which led to the funniest thing we have ever done: Shit Wars.

we were at an exhibition, and both had been eating terrible overpriced food, and drinking heavily, as it was quite sunny. thus, after a while we both really needed the shitter. so, we went upstairs, and sat in cubicles next to each other. and so began the amazing war of shit.

me: (mortal kombat style) "FIGHT!"
*i shit*
*dave shits*
*both sniggering like teenage girls*
*i shit more*
*dave shits more*
*someone enters the cubicle next to me*
*dave cries with laughter and almost falls off his toilet*
*i pull paper really noisily*
*wipes arse*
*dave comes out shortly after*

it was fun. so, so much fun. please try it, noisily, in public. or at a really fancy black tie thing.

apologies for length and girth, it won't flush now. send me a plumber, worthy of mordor.
(, Sat 29 Jul 2006, 13:42, Reply)
Blood Brothers
Waaaay back when I were a wee scamp (about 6 if memory serves me correctly), I was part of a close-knit club called the "Secret Boys" which I now realise sounds a touch gay but I digress..

The three of us would hold meetings in our underwear and have wrestling matches in our pants as well as going for a pee at the same time and trying not to 'cross the streams' in a Ghostbusters kind of way. I now realise this sounds a touch gay but I digress..

One day my friend Jordan came into the meeting room (which was in fact my bedroom) and said he had found a way we could be friends forever - he saw it in a movie. We were intrigued...

He explained that we had to cut our palms and then shake hands to seal the bond. This sounded scientifically sound at the time so we thought we'd give it a shot.

So using Jordan's older brother's compass, we each carved ourselves a trench really fucking deep into our palms and then shook on it with each other to seal the deal...

Everything seemed fine after that although we were in a lot of pain.

Anyway, the days progressed gradually with more underwear-clad wrestling matches and communal peeing which I now realise sounds a touch gay but I digress..

Then on the 4th day Jordan didn't show up at my house. We called that day's meeting of and went to play football instead.

That night my mum came into my romo to tell em that Jordan was in hospital with Hepetitis (sp?) contracted via a cut in his hand, and that he was very, very sick. We went to visit him and he was not at all well.

A week later he died. It really sucked, and we were really upset for a long time but we never spoke of it to any grown ups. Ever. Jordan would have been proud, and I like to think that somewhere he's looking down smiling and peeing on us still.

The Secret Boys disbanded shortly after.

Apologies for length but not for girth.
(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 13:00, Reply)
Too much info...
I once developed a friendship with a girl at work; we used to occasionally have lunch together or chats over the watercooler, very pleasant but would often end up with her telling me about what she 'did' with her boyfriend. Of course anyone talking about sex is interesting but her confessions got more and more extreme until she told me that - whilst they were engaged in anal sex - she suggested to him that he might like to watch her having sex with me. And after some discussion and fantasising he agreed.

Now this may seem like a good thing but:

1. She was an absolute munter.
2. He was a vicious bastard who had been done for beating some poor lad to a pulp.

When she told me I panicked with the fear of having to decline and stated that I was in a relationship with another girl that worked with us. (I wasn't.)

All was fine until two weeks later when my 'imaginary girlfriend' approached me in a rather irate manner to find out why she was invited to go for a foursome with psycho couple as my partner.

Luckily I got fired a few days later.
(, Wed 2 Aug 2006, 12:20, Reply)
I'm a computer programmer...
... intense friendship is anyone who talks to me. I'm good friends with the 60year old cleaning lady who empties my bin. She needs someone to talk to as well.
(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 15:10, Reply)
I had a friend once.
Then I became mentally ill.
Now all my "friends" are dull, fat, ugly socially inept wankers on an internet chat room.
And they say the same things day after day.
And it makes me long for death.
(, Sat 29 Jul 2006, 23:31, Reply)
Here's another
When we were 9 years old, myself and two of my friends wanted to form a club. Everyone was doing it - holding regular meetings (read: asking mum "Hey can Tracy and Tahni come over tomorrow?"), making your own cool membership cards (there were those machines at the shopping centre), and writing a newsletter (Headline: "I'm doing ballet on Tuesday" or "We went to the shops!"). It was a cute thing to do, but what we needed was a catchy name. One that we would easily abbreviate to put on our cards, and which was very unique and witty. We decided on one which I'm glad to say I made up myself - 'The Kool Kids Klub'.

That's right, we were the KKK.

I even made membership cards.
(, Sat 29 Jul 2006, 13:01, Reply)
My Brother/Best Mate
My brother Colin is my best friend. My first ever memory is looking around and seeing his face.

We sleep together,
eat together,
we were always in the same class at school,
I always sit with him on the bus and
when I smoke he smokes.
I've got a funny feeling when one of us dies we'll both be buried in the same coffin

The only problem is Colin's a gay. Now I've got nothing against homosexual behaviour at all, but when you've got to share a bum hole with your siamese twin that's when the problems start.
(, Tue 1 Aug 2006, 20:56, Reply)
Intense friend

My imaginary friend was fun at first, but gradually he got really possessive and sulked when I played with some of my other imaginary friends. Then he started spreading really mean stories about me and in the end he used to hang around outside my house, just sort of staring. It was the imaginary hate-mail that really hurt though - blank pages. You can imagine.
(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 13:00, Reply)
The Tale of Stalker Boy
(I'll condense this as much as I can, it's a long story.)

When I was nine or so a new kid joined my school in the middle of the year. Nothing new there, except my mum struck up a friendship with their mum, and invited them both round for tea. I was NOT happy. The problem?
He was a BOY! Ewwww! (if you're nine it's ewww, anyway.)
Anyway, we shall call him Andrew, for that is his name. And on meeting him properly my mum announced that he was 'such a lovely boy, so gifted at the piano' and more or less said "you be nice to him or ELSE." I wasn't keen on him, he used to call me stupid names and rubbed my cat's fur the wrong way (she bit him, woo). So yeah, he only put on the nice act for parents. Git. And because our mums were friends, he decided we absolutely HAD to be friends and so wherever I went in school I had a fat-kid shadow. Even though we had absolutely nothing in common and he smelt (like boys do when you're nine).
Yay. So obviously at that age all my little girlie friends were going "Andrew fancies Maladicta! Andrew fancies Maladicta!". Bearing in mind he's still the campest kid I've ever seen, but he never denied it. Such was his power over people's parents that when he claimed some of my friends had ganged up on him and kicked him to the ground (there were apparently five of them and he was twice the size of all of them) my mum wouldn't let me see them out of school for a month. I was only allowed to see him. So yeah, one-sided intense friendship.

Fast forward ten or so years and we're doing A-levels. He falls out with a mutual friend (a bitchy gay guy called Tris) and spends all his time whining to me about how unpopular he is and how mean Tris is being to him, and so on and so on. And at this point, it's just me and him doing A-levels in French and German, So just me and him in the classes. In between making disgusting stories up about me getting raped by our disturbing German teacher, he liked to report back to me everything mean people said about me and then say "Calm down dear, it's a commercial" when I got upset. After we finally left that dump and went to uni I spent my entire first term getting preachy emails off him going on about "you're far too eager to loose [sic] your virginity and that's not right. You must wait for the absolute perfect moment and the absolute perfect person..." - annoying enough as it is, but meanwhile he's shagging anything with a pulse and expects me to act differently. He also wanted to meet "anyone you even kiss once to see if they get my approval or not, and if I don't like him and he's not right for you I will sort him out!!!!!". And "How do you know your 'friends' at uni aren't talking about you right now? They don't know you like I do.", "How do you know he's not with you for a bet?", "I think you should come home every weekend so I can give you a big hug!!!!!"

There were hundreds of these emails, and basically, he was trying to undermine my confidence all the time, convince me everyone was out to get me and the only person I could trust in the world was him, because everyone else hated me, and so because he was my only friend I needed to spend £50 a week on coming home for about three hours. And in case you hadn't gathered, I was only allowed to have one friend. Him. Not to mention the lie he told me about how my parents asked him to tell them if a man even breathed on me - he begged me not to tell them I knew "because then they won't trust me any more...". He liked to smarm up to my parents every time he came over (uninvited, a lot) by asking them all about Wales, how he wanted to learn Welsh, and most annoying of all, he'd take the piss out of me in front of them for things he'd lost his temper over - stupid things like needing to go to the toilet during a film or get cash out would result in him yelling "OH FOR GOD'S SAKE! YOU HAVE NO COMMON SENSE!" and similar things, then going quiet on me for hours on end. He was a fucking nightmare and as he'd got himself in so deep with my parents (I'm convinced he fancies my mum) it took me months to convince them he was bad news and that no, I did not want him in the house ever again.

In the meantime, at the end of my first term at uni he invites himself down to stay (by telling my parents I'd invited him and by the time they mentioned it to me they were halfway there). Thank Eris it was the end of term because I'd told all my friends he wasn't my friend, but stalker boy, and I don't think I could have dealt with anyone I have respect for meeting him. So we spent a hellish day and a half with him wanting to meet up with all my friends so he could judge them, and giving me endless hours of lectures about 'forgive and forget' and the 'fun we had in our lessons' and 'what a special bond we have because of our languages'. That would be the same bond that only he can see.

It was the same a month or so before when I came home for a couple of days and the minute I got home he was there like a lovesick puppy. He backed me into a corner about coming to stay with him for a couple of days, and when I got on the train he rang me "Now then dear, you are on the right train, aren't you? The one that says Nottingham on the front?" (He always calls me 'dear', which is another thing that makes him such a prick.) And when I got off the train he grabbed me and hugged me (think the anti-escape orb from The Prisoner crossed with Homer Simpson) and said "Ooh, it's so good to see you, dear! By the way, everyone thinks you're my ex."
WTF? doesn't come close to what I said. So I had to spend a day or so with him and his surprisingly nice uni friends knowing that they all thought we'd... ewwwwwwwww (whatever age you are). So that was fun.

And finally, he was at his absolute worst Christmas 2004 - he invited me and my parents to theirs for Christmas dinner. Bear in mind my parents are at this point slowly coming round to the idea that he's an abusive cunt. We get there, and he hugs my mum and kisses her on the cheek, then does the same to me. Again, ewwwwwwww (you know what you do when scary lipsticky aunties with moustaches try to kiss you? Yep, I did that). He spent all of the time we were there trying to humiliate me by dragging up things from primary school and generally being his usual self "Ooh, do you remember when this happened, dear? Why don't you try the Elvis wig on? Does it still take you five hundred hours to get ready in the morning, and put on all your bloody make-up and do your hair and choose some shoes?". This is why I don't understand why any girl in her right mind wants to shag him.

Finally, he said it was time to open presents. He bought my mum a pot plant, my dad something random I don't remember and what did he buy me? A fucking lacy garter. "Er, thanks..."

The final thing he did that really pissed me off was his opinion of my choice of university. I go to uni in Canterbury, which is fairly sleepy and doesn't have the world's most intense nightlife, and I like it that way. He goes to Nottingham, with its 5000 clubs and someone getting raped, mugged or stabbed every day. He told me once "You live in a rosy little world there and it wouldn't hurt you to come into the real world..." (read: transfer to Nottingham so I can stalk you easier), and I said "At least I'm not afraid of being raped every time I leave my house." To which he replied "It'd do you good to have to worry about that, it'd toughen you up."

Since then I've blocked him on MSN, ignore all his calls and texts, and only see him when absolutely forced to. If he does contact me, I grunt answers and get away from him as quickly as I can. The worst part is that he thinks what he's doing is totally normal and can't understand why I'm 'so funny with me now, it must be her uni friends and boyfriend that have turned her against me...'. He also likes to brag about his sexual conquests to me (again, ewwwwwwww), and how because he's too pretentious to be anything like anyone else, he's "trisexual - gay, straight and bi all in one." Seriously. His mum knows better than he does that I'm sick of him - you know that Friends episode where Monica goes out with the guy from high school and he's no different? That's him, but looking like Toadie from Neighbours's ugly brother.

I would apologise for length, but I'm guessing he has none. I'd rather not find out. Ever. Ewwwwwww.
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 23:28, Reply)
bit too close for comfort
coupla years ago I had a super intense friendship with a friend. (I'm female and straight, he's male and gay)

he was really into cybersex and always used to go on about what fun it was and how I should have a go.

I'll try anything once.

so M and I created a male persona for me and I went online. he sat behind me as I typed on the pc. I got chatting to a guy, he got frisky and I got a bit weirded out by the whole thing (well, I found it strange answering questions about my fictional penis. maybe I'm just a bit prim).

anyway, I really started getting uncomfy with the whole idea, and turned round to ask M what I should do.

only to realise that M was happily fwapping away.

actually, that wasn't the event that ended our friendship but that'll do for now.
(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 13:03, Reply)
camp friends
me and my mate; we've chatted in teepees, bonded in marquees, argued in gazebos and laughed in wigwams.

you could say our friendship was in-tents.

shoot me now.
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 15:20, Reply)
The morning after
my best friend and I exchanged blood [back in Primary school days], he walked in to the classroom, sat down beside me and announced in his gravest voice; "We've both got aids and we're going to die". Neither of us knew anything about Aids other than that it was bad, so of course I started shitting myself [figuratively] whilst he remained perfectly calm, neatly setting his excersize books out on the desk.

The next morning, we were apparently dead from aids and had come back as ghosts. We had to concentrate if we wanted to have any physical effect upon our surroundings, which probably resulted in incredibly constipated girning everytime we opened a door. However, we had to keep the fact that we were ghosts a secret from the adults so that we wouldn't get in trouble for giving each other aids, which resulted in conspiratorial whispering for about a month or so whilst we searched for a way to come back to life.

Needless to say, one morning my friend walked in to the classroom, sat down and announced "Joe, I've figured it out, we're alive again!" just as I was concentrating on opening the little draw suspended beneath my desk. Sure enough, I found that I no longer needed to concentrate to pick things up, and we had been miraculously cured of both aids and death. I never recieved an explanation from my friend, but it was good enough for me because he was the leader of our gang so any bullshit he made up was accepted as Bible.
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 12:36, Reply)
When I was 3 years old & at playschool (kindergarten to the 'merkins)
I was best friends with the teachers daughter who was in the same class. We played together & shared secrets & the days were always sunny & we had jelly & ice cream and said we would live happily ever after in our gingerbread house. On a playschool trip to the local church we walked arm in arm down the aisle & had a pretend wedding in front of the playgroup. Soon afterwards I went on to the local primary school & she went to a posh public school & I never saw my beloved again.

Now what I want to know is whether this is legally binding 26 years later, because I heard she's a doctor now & the little ginger girl I 'married' is now a stunning redhead.

So how about it Becky? Lets consummate this thing we started, lets pick up where we left off. If not, how about a sympathy shag? C'mon bitch I haven't got any in fucking ages, and you owe me big time after leaving me in this shitty little village to rot...or are you too good for me now, little miss big-shot doctor...whore, at least send me some revealing photos...anything...bitch...

Sorry. It's my problem and I'm dealing with it.
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 11:25, Reply)
early transvestitsm/gay experience...
Long one but you need the background...

So, as you do at school everyone has a best mate, from about the age of 8 or 9 i used to be best mates with this kid from the same village, we went to school together, we hung around together, his older brother bought us newky brown when we were 13 and we got pissed together, the first time we got stoned (thanks to his brother again) we were together.
So anyways, his mam gets asked to look after a house round the corner whilst the occupants are on holiday so we get the keys and decide this would be a good place to hang out with a couple of beers rather than outside the shops...

As you do when you're 15 we started to have a root round the house, and eventually ended up in the bedroom, going thru the wifes undie drawer and she had some pretty nice stuff, bras, corsets, sussies etc. Now, i had already previously experimented with transvestitism (i had 2 sisters for gods sake, who wouldnt succumb to the temptations of the laundry basket) so when it was suggested after a couple of beers that we put some of the gear on i didnt have a problem with it. So, half an hour later we'd put the gear back and were having a laugh about it as you do.
Next day he suggests we go round there again, drinking happily and the conversation turns to the previous night and the underwear so we go upstairs and i pull on some gear, as does he. I needed a piss so nipped for one, and when i came back im treated to the sight of my mate lying on the bed with a stiff cock in one hand and a camera in the other. It was at this point alarm bells started ringing but he asked me to take some pictures of him, so i thought fair enough and snapped off a couple thinking i'll leave in a minute..
So, he then asks if he can take some of me and i say no way, the same response he got when he asked if he could suck me off, or indeed if i wanted to suck him off.
I ran downstairs calling him a dirty fu$ker and got dressed, and after a couple of minutes thinking about it shouted that i'd be down here when he was done.
Anyway, a while passes and he comes down obviously shitting himself that it would be all round school the next day but i assured him that i wouldnt say a word and more beer was drunk

Anyway, perhaps unsuprisingly he came out a few weeks later although i would hope he broke it to his mother in a subtler way

So, that was pretty fu$kin intense for a while i can tell you!
(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 15:33, Reply)
Tender love
We were only 14 when our tall ship was wrecked on the rocks off an unknown Pacific Island. We were naive, but our nakedness stirred feelings in us we could not explain. We were both past puberty: she had large, firm breasts and I was experimenting with powerful erections.

Soon we were sleeping together for warmth and security. The softness of her skin aroused unknown urges in me. The fulsomeness of her naked buttocks jostled silkily against my adolescent pride, creating a curiously pleasurable frisson.

It was a stormy night with the monsoon lashing down when it first occured. Simultaneously frightened and excited, we huddled together in out makeshift shelter. A loud thunderclap crashed immediately overhead and she thrust backwards, impaling herself on my waiting member, She gasped. She froze. She began to roll her hips and slide back and forth as the storm raged overhead.

I grasped her breasts and held on tight as she rode the storm, pushing furiously back onto me as the rain soaked our bodies. As we we jointly reached that pinnacle of ecstasy, a lightning bolt sizzled ultraviolet into the palms around us. My seed pulsed deep into her, and her virginity grasped tightly as it ebbed away.

She was my very best friend.
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 16:38, Reply)
My Mrs and her 'special friend' at Primary School
My Mrs confessed to having a 'very special friend' at about the age of 10
her and this other girl were thick as thieves, were in the same classes and generally used to do everything together .............when I mean 'everything' I include pissing on each others hands in the toilets at lunchtimes.

you should see the things shes prepared to do as a grown up.
(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 15:35, Reply)
barbed wire necklace
My best friend in high school once gave me a necklace she'd fashioned by hand by twisting together links of copper wire. It poked me mercilessly and I wore it anyway. I'd bought the spool of wire for her at a Canadian Tire after she'd been caught trying to shoplift it and had been duly humiliated by some power-hungry aisle cop. The necklace, which featured a wire-wrapped pendant of her namesake gemstone (which I had given her), was presented as a going away gift when I left for university. We'd had an intense sort of friendship - lots of driving out into rainy wilderness parks of a Sunday night to listen to radioplays on CBC whilst hotboxing her little alien-green Pontiac Acadian, sometimes giving in and making out in the backseat until dawn, or under cottonwood trees by the river in the pouring rain, you know, moments that go straight into a 17-year-old girl's psyche and lodge there like a throwing star with pictures of kittens on it. We used to go down to a field behind a burned-out house and read under the apple trees. Once I duct taped her to her own roof rack. I took her to her grad. My boyfriend hated her.

So when I came home in the summer and announced I was getting married, something changed - I guess she had other ideas. However. The following year, when my husband and I moved back to this neck of the woods, she decided she was his new best friend, and things became very strange indeed... She convinced him to drive to Nevada with her to go to Burning Man (I couldn't go because I was pregnant and working), and seemed to really get off on my mixed feelings over the arrangement (the snickering kind of gave her away). They stayed away an extra day or two, driving past through our city and on up to the west coast to camp on the beach... they became fast fast friends and spent many an evening running around stealing roadsigns or dropping ecstasy or God knows what while I stayed home and washed the dishes and took bubble baths and tried really fucking hard not to feel sorry for myself. They didn't (so I hear) actually go to bed together until about four days before the baby was born. I didn't find out for five years. But when she left flowers on my doorstep with a cryptic note when I was at home with my wee infink, I knew there must be a reason I wanted so badly to pitch them out.

My ex-(for reasons unrelated, even!)husband's childhood teddy bear vanished from our house the night they spent together. He's convinced she took it. When I came home from the hospital I found her initials carved in my bathroom door.

Why aren't people resonding so readily to this question? Jesus. Because it's fucking personal. If anyone I know happens across this posting, I'm guaranteed a "get OVER it already". Trust me, I'd dearly love to. But I really want to strangle that woman and fuck her corpse.
(, Thu 3 Aug 2006, 7:53, Reply)
Young discoveries
A long long time ago,when I was about 5,I became very good friends with a girl down the road to me named Laura. She was slightly psychotic and possesive of me,but as I was a weird loner kid,I didnt have anyone else.

Our antics included covering our entire bodies (including one on the vag) in stamps from my Polly Pocket stamper set,and,as most young friend do,we shared baths. One thing really sticks in my mind,and that was one time in the bath. I said "have you ever looked inside your front bottom?" To which she replied "Yeah,theres a little willy in there."
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 10:08, Reply)
When I was 10 I had my braces put on. I was the first in our grade to go through that, and felt very left out. During school yard catfights, the topic of my braces was always used as a 'discussion point', and it was what made me unique - until Tracy had hers put on.

We immediately changed the class-seating arrangement to the effect that we shared a desk. We aptly named ourselves 'Braces Buddies', which to us was a very exclusive partnership. This continued until my family moved to the other side of the country (Perth to Brisbane) when I was 12 (braces had been taken off since then, by the way).

2 years later, Tracy's family decided to pack up and move to Brisbane. Tracy moved into a house about 300 metres away from me. We attended different schools, but all of my school friends knew her as "that girl who is always at Talbo's birthday parties" and all of her school friends knew me as "that girl who is always at Tracy's birthday parties". In fact, on my 16th birthday I attempted to turn my living room into a gaybar as a theme for the night, and it was Tracy who spent the entire evening stirring up mocktails for my schoolfriends that she barely knew.

What has never really occured to me until now is that, throughout this entire relationship, we've never discussed our friendship. We've never even really referred to each other as 'best friends'. Everything just 'happens', and it was only when I was going through high school (all girls school - very catty) and experiencing a myriad of bitchiness, backstabbing and insincerity, that I realized exactly what she means to me.

Now we're at the same university - we catch the bus there together whenever our timetables allow it.

So there it is. No life-altering crisis, no crazy circumstances, just a girl that I've known for a very long time. What surprises me is that, owing to my constant moving around the country because of dad's job (before settling in Brisbane), she's the only non-family member that I've known for more than 10 years. Everyone else has come and gone, except for Tracy.

The only regret I have is that I've never turned to her and said 'you know, you're a really good friend'.

I don't know how to finish this post.

*EDIT* On the first day she came to school with her braces, I was trying to mentor her, and told her not to bite down really hard on her braces. She bit down really hard on her braces, and had to go back to the ortho on the very same day he had put on her braces, in order to get them fixed.

*EDIT* When I was away on holiday, she called me (long distance) just to tell me that she just drove through a tunnel where somebody had written 'TALBO' on the wall. She ended up adding 'ROCKS!' next to it, eventually.

*EDIT* Our families went holidaying together to the coast, and she and I spent most of our time in the hotel room playing the CSI Board Game.
(, Sat 29 Jul 2006, 12:43, Reply)
Once upon a time I was in love with my (female) best friend. As life is horribly unfair, it just so happened that the lady in question was heterosexual.

One night we got rottenly drunk with a male friend and ended up in a rather rude situation. "Result," thinks I, "now I can get a good grope of Best Friend's rather fabulous norks". Alas, she was less than impressed with my blundering ministrations, and perhaps fortunately I passed out soon after.

The next morning I had to go to the chemists to get her the morning after pill as she was too ashamed to ask for it herself. Woo.
(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 16:34, Reply)
Pooh sticks
My friend any myself used to play Pooh Sticks with a difference. My house was a 5-storey building with a soil pipe that ran up the entire height of the back of the building. Down at ground level, there was a pipe that came from the sink in the basement and flowed directly into this soil pipe. It was not glued on, and only held in place by a C-shaped bracket, so could easily be moved up or down, allowing access to the soil pipe.

So, what we'd do was to save up our pooing times until we were both allowed out to play. Then, one of us would rush up to the 2nd floor and curl one out. The other person would stand downstairs with a large twig (or twigs) inserted into the soil pipe and catch the brown bundle of joy. 2 floors up ensured that the poo was nearing terminal velocity by the time it reached the sticks. You can imagine the results. It was then customary to throw the prized catch at each other.

I haven't played with poo for nearly 20 years now.
(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 15:16, Reply)
Barbie Porn.
When I was a wee lass of seven, I had very few friends, and the friends that I did have weren't very fond of me.

Well, one of these friends was another homeschooled girl like me, and one day while she was over at my house she had a camera with her and got the bright idea to make barbie porn.

I was horrified and a bit confused at the whole thing, and hid the barbies in my closet. She decided to threaten me with "I won't be your friend anymore!"

So, I gave in.

We then proceeded to make a very strange stop-motion animation barbie porn film, including beastiality (barbie+beanie babies) and gangbangs.

Not intentionally depraved, mind you. We were young, and innocent, and we just stuck things together and went something like "OH WE'RE HAVING SEX *kiss kiss kiss*"

Imagine the looks on our mothers faces when we proudly showed them our creation at the end of the day.

Ah, the pastimes of little girls.
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 19:03, Reply)
The Shrine
I once knew a bloke called JC who worked at the same place I did. We went out for Friday beers a few times, had a laugh and became mates. All quite normal.

Then it started. So slowly I didn’t notice until it was too late.

I used to stay over at his place on a Friday quite regularly after work, and got to know him and his fiancée quite well. I thought it was a bit odd that if I was still in work clothes when I went round he used to try and insist that I borrowed some clothes of his, but let it slide.

One day apparently out of the blue his fiancée dumped him, refusing to say why. I felt quite sorry for him and so started spending more time with him, then when he had to give up the flat they’d shared I invited him to move into the spare room at our place.

One or two of his friends whom I’d got to know made a few comments about how cool it was that JC & I would have a new gay pad, but I naturally assumed this was their sense of humour so again thought no more of it.

I started to notice a few things of mine going missing, but as it was a shared house populated my a bunch of slightly dodgy types, with even dodgier mates, I chalked this up to experience and made sure my door was kept locked.

One day I passed JC’s open door on the way to the shower and saw what looked like one of my house plants in his room. Cheeky bastard, I thought, I’ll make sure I ask him for that back.

Then one day I met a young lady (who turned out to be the future Mrs Soapy Norris as it happened) and things rapidly escalated.

He shaved his head bald. Just like mine. Grew a goatee. Just like mine. Dropped his midlands accent and adopted a West London accent. Just like mine.

If I arranged to go out with this girl, or any of my friends without him, he would throw a tantrum like a four year old, saying I wasn’t paying him any attention. I was best man at my mate’s wedding and had to meet up to discuss details – JC went mad and demanded to know why I couldn’t do this by videoconferencing.

It was at that point that things clicked into place and I realised how blind I’d been. Oh dear, I thought.

So I confronted JC at the next opportunity and said what the hell is all this about? He said well, a psychologist would probably say that since I split up with my fiancée I’ve started fixating on somebody else, and that person is you…. Oh dear oh dear, I thought.

I moved out very shortly thereafter. Before I went I made sure JC wasn’t in then entered his room to get my plant back.

Let’s just say I wish I hadn’t.
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 16:56, Reply)
Loving foulness
I know its slightly different,as its my boyfriend,but we do take romance to the extreme sometimes. As in,licking each others eyeballs to see what they taste like,sharing breath, eating each others bitten off nails and finger skin. Also,if he's just tried a food and doesnt like it,sometimes he'll spit it into my mouth,baby-bird style so I can finish it. Oh,and I sit in the bathroom with him so I can talk to him while he poos.

All done in a very loving,affectionate way,of course.
(, Sat 29 Jul 2006, 10:19, Reply)
I had the last laugh...
Real intense friendship with a lad a year younger than me. We met at nursery school and went through the whole of school together - not always best buddies but when we reached 5th year for me 4th for him it got intense.

So much so that he insisted that we had to see each other every day. If I went anywhere with any other friends he had to come too - this in the end cost me friendships coz they felt like they were being stalked.

This went on till after we left school (he quit a year early to follow me to college and then quit the course he was on to go onto the same course as me...). Then all of a sudden he decided he didn't want to be friends anymore. I had no idea this was coming at all. We had just sat and had tea with his mom and dad and he said "Don't want to see you anymore. Don't come round my house. I want space".

Utterly devastated by this revelation I got up and his dad said "I'll give you a lift home, don't want you walking when you're upset". Upset 18 yr old girlie gets into car with 54 yr old bloke who takes advantage of the situation by parking up on the 3 minute ride home to snog her for 15 minutes to make sure she's okay...

And that began a 6 month affair where I learnt never to trust a clergyman, how to give head to someone driving without hurting your back, and how sweet it is to gain revenge...

Length, girth - not bad for an oldun...
(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 13:34, Reply)
My friend...
Andy became best friends with this guy from school, lets call him S. S was a little weird, but Andy didn't seem to notice (or care).
So S and Andy are hanging out at Andy's house, when S suddenly suggests naked wrestling. Now, Andy was 14/15 at the time, so immediately realised this was the gayest thing he'd ever heard. He declined, but said they could play normal wrestling. S wants to turn the light out, and Andy is willing to compromise on this occasion.
Out goes the light, and wrestling ensues. Andy's arm starts to hurt so he turns on the light, turns around and is met with the sight of S lying stark bollock naked on the carpet.

Thus ended the friendship of Andy and S.
(, Fri 28 Jul 2006, 13:28, Reply)
Monkey - what a wierdo
When I was younger (bout 10 ish) I used to hang around with this kid nicknamed Monkey. Just in case you were wondering, he was called that because he looked like a monkey in all his baby pictures.

Anyway for his tenth birthday he had a party round his house. Me and a few other kids from school were invited. We were all messing about, getting sugar rushes off the vast amounts of cherryade and sweets we'd been supplied with by his mum.

Monkey had a giant teddy bear, roughly about the same size as him which we were pretending to do Wrestling moves on, as ten year olds do. Monkey, being a dirty little bastard got a bit over excited and pulled his trousers and pants down and started to try and shag the teddy bear while shouting 'Oh its Jet' (Jet from the popular early 90's TV series Gladiators by the way)

Fair play to Monkey, if you're gonna have imaginary sex with a teddy bear in front of your mates at least do it while shouting out the name of a fitty. Jet from Gladiators was a right looker! Nevertheless that vision will stay with me for the rest of my life. I stopped hanging out with Monkey a short time after that.
(, Tue 1 Aug 2006, 12:14, Reply)

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