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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.

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)
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)
I used to be friends with Eric Clapton's son Conor

but we had a falling out.
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 14:07, Reply)
When I was in primary school
We had the local deaf school come over to teach us sign language. Didn't work, just ended up school vs school fights.

Anyway, one particular bitch clung herself onto me, and I ended up mates with her. I already knew sign language so I'd talk to her and batter anybody in my school who laughed at her (she was dumb [mute to merkins]).

Anyway, after 10 years of friendship and sharing everything and translating stuff between her and my family, we lost touch. I moved up to Edinburgh for a bit.

About three weeks ago, this blonde beauty comes over to me, snogs me (in the middle of a club) and grins. I barely recognised her.

She's now a model. Meh.
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 13:28, Reply)
When I was young, I had an imaginary friend.

Mine was the Fierce Bad Rabbit, of Beatrix Potter fame.

Anytime plates were broken, walls covered in crayon, the cat's tail shaved...I would stand there with a virtuous expression, and tell my family that my imaginary friend, The Fierce Bad Rabbit, did it.

Until one day, my brother shot my imaginary friend with an imaginary gun.


*Length? It's endurance that Rabbits are famous for...*
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 12:47, 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)
Best of mates
I had an intense friendship with a lad from School.

It was intense as i was playing away with his misses.

Had he found out he would of gone fucking mental.
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 12:31, 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)
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)
Gay Pyro Gang
Back when i had friends some pretty odd stuff occurred, and it probably explains my absolute lack of male friends now.

My very closest friend was a product of 'geographical convenience' as bart simpson so heartlessly (and brilliantly) put it.

There was the over the top obsession with anal sex, which gripped nearly everyone in our circle. This later involved me tying to explain to 5 guys of average intelligence that 'doggie style' does not mean anal sex. They had such little interest in vaginal sex that they had no idea of the female anatomy. This just further compounded my fear of sleepover rape.

Then there was the pyro aspect, which really did get scary. Every time we got together to smoke and drink, someone would set something alight. Mostly it involved things which were controllable, but sometimes highly explosive substances were used in extremely foolish ways.

I remember one incident that involved a huge 'foam' block at a local dumping site (in the park, nice huh). My friend dropped a match into the block and watched it sink down, declaring "that wasnt very good". Moments later i was hitting a giant foam fireball with his golfclub shouting futile orders at him. We just ran in the end. He later moaned that his new golf club was black, as if i was the one throwing matches onto flammable substances.

I did get revenge for his utter pyro gayness though. When i had finally realized that i was more sexually and emotionally mature than all of my male counterparts i started to hang around with much older people. One day he tagged along with me to play football, and had to run "home for tea", leaving all his stuff in the park. The (older) group of us took great pleasure of setting a small bonfire of his stuff and then stuffing the charred remains of it down a near drainpipe. He came back an hour later telling us that "ive left all my stuff, and that new jumper costs my mum £50, im in trouble". "what stuff?" we asked.

Other shit happened which involves him getting seriously injured, but im not sadistic enough to share those laughs. Oh and i saw him recently, he didnt recognize me (thank the lord, noone from school does). Hes moved bck in down my road. Im too scared to drop by, because i was fairly recently told that he is gay and still talks about me as his dream guy. ( this explains the realtionship better than i could above. We went through some rough shit together, and it was obvious to me that i wasnt just a friend)

Sorry for the length and lack of laughs.
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 5:01, Reply)
Why am I attracted to the mad ones?
He never wore shoes or socks even in winter in Aberdeen (claiming his Australian backwoods childhood had hardened his soles like leather) and dressed like a tramp (owning 5 pairs of the same shirts and cord trousers so that people who didn't know him suspected he was smelly and dirty coz he seemingly never washed his clothes), always called me "Pabbums upon old petal" in public- affettely denying me the macho cred I so much wanted (and I still think my rough tough exterior deserved) and once conned me into a 400 mile drive to chase after a girl who was camping in Skye by telling me we were going around the corner to buy chips; he didn't stop until we missed the Kyle of Lochalsh ferry by 15 minutes and then drove back all night down the side of Loch Ness while I called him for everything.

However, he did once sleep outside the tent on a Welsh hillside all night to allow me to indulge myself with a hitchhiking Spanish girl who we picked up and he fancied too but I got to first and didn't complain once when it rained. Nor did he mind when I laughed heartedly at him when a girl he thought himself to be in love with replied to his "Susan I love you" with the immortal words: "have you tried Milk of Magnesia?".

Ian, I miss you and your eccentric ways - getting arrested for standing creepily outside a female dressing room in Top Shop for three hours without moving (you bad), learning flamenco guitar by mail order rather than attending lectures and being kicked out of uni as a result, searching the world to find a woman who would keep you without your needing to work like the rest of we wage-slaves and astonishingly finding one in Hamburg by pure chance. Lazy but likeable I guess.

The last time I heard from Ian he appeared at my door with the aforementioned older rich woman on a day when I was elsewhere. He left a short poem scratchily written using a rotering pen on thin, thin paper and a German porn mag (well you do, don't you; it's only polite when visiting) through the letterbox and no forwarding address.

He still didn't wear shoes or socks either, an astonished neighbour reported to me later.
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 0:46, Reply)
is there
anyone who didn't do the cut your palms and be bound in blood thing as a child?
(, Mon 31 Jul 2006, 0:36, Reply)
Makin' your mind up
Well I think when we are very young we all have very intense friendships. And, all you boys who have played around with willies and such (pieeater eg) it's ok, it doesn't mean that you are gay. But I admire all of you who are still friends as adults with those kiddie intense friends. I'm not, I dumped all of them when I moved out of my one-horse dump of a town in the West Mids and moved to the SE.

Anyway, pre-teens I had a very intense best friend relationship. Despite her having short curly brown hair and me long blonde hair we used to try to wear identical clothes (and nag parents to buy us the same stuff) so we could pretend we were twins. ?!. We also used to write songs that we were convinced would eventually conquer the pop charts.

The culmination of this came around the time that Bucks Fizz were in the Eurovision Song Cntest with Making Your Mind Up. Best friend and I learned the dance routine to the finest detail, ending with us simulateously whipping each others' skirts off. Those were the days.

We lost touch at about 14 when she started shagging boys and I was still too speccy and shy to do so.

apeloverage- only one post so far? More more more.
(, Sun 30 Jul 2006, 22:59, Reply)
Good old days...
Me and my sister used to sit back to back on the toilet together - why we couldn't just take it in turns i'll never know.

Also me and a friend decided to exchange blood by removing some recent scabs and holding the weepng wounds together for a few minuets...glad she didn't have AIDS or anything...

And of course there was the 'Secrets Club'. And of course, the only rule was not to tell anyone else about the secrets club...so no one else joined. It was a pretty boring club.
(, Sun 30 Jul 2006, 20:14, Reply)
Violent but not abusive
Back in junior high, I met a guy who was in my grade but had gone to a different elementary school. For the first year, he was my arch-nemesis and we did whatever we could to "get" each other (little pranks, spreading rumors, the occasional act of minor violence like tripping each other as we're passing in the hall). Then, for reasons I can't even begin to fathom (other than that I was wearing more revealing clothes), we became the best of friends over the summer.

So now, here we are, best friends, a slightly nervous, very nerdy hypochondriac (I was "allergic" to everything back then, which he constantly disproved by sneaking things into my food and drink), and a large jock with an impressive intelligence. There was never even the slightest bit of sexual tension or attraction between us, even though we were in enough "private" situations to justify it, he's a bit of a ladies' man (to put it lightly), and I'm not completely unattractive.

Now, he had this idea in his head that I should learn to defend myself, in case I'm ever attacked by someone. So how, might you ask, did he do this? He tested my alertness by, as we were walking down the sidewalk from school, backhanding me in the face out of nowhere. I, understandably, wasn't all that happy with him, but his explanation was "you weren't paying attention!", and I couldn't stay mad at him after that. This was just the kind of friends we were.

So, we had this "hang out" place in the woods, where we chilled and built things out of scraps of wood and pushed each other into the stream running through it. One day, he found a log that must've weighed 200 pounds, maybe more. He TOSSES it at me (remember, jock), hitting me square in the chest (OW) and knocking me over. Fortunately, all I had was a few bruises and a good laugh.

The only time we actually came to blows was when he decided to drop a tree on me. There were plenty of dead trees in the woods, so he pushed one over directly at me while I was busy putting something together. I mostly got out of the way, but it clipped me in the side (he hadn't noticed a sharp bit of branch at precisely the right length up the tree to hit me) and gave me a good scratch. I ran at him, got a few good hits, and was promptly pinned, his knees on my arms. Now, I'm not a small girl, I was about 5'9" (and not done growing) and had enough muscle to (barely) keep up with him on our daily construction projects. I struggled, I fought, I bitched him out, I couldn't move. He told me to calm down, and that he wasn't going to let me up until I do. So I, after a bit, say that I'm fine, let me up. He does. I hit him again. He pins me again.

I finally calm down completely, he lets me up, we head home so I can nurse my wounds, and we get drunk (him having disproven my allergy to alcohol months previous).

We're still friends to this day. He's a police officer, working to become a narcotics officer, and he's engaged to a lovely woman that I hope he's happy with. He's still an asshole, though.

Apologies for length and girth, he's lost some weight since then.
(, Sun 30 Jul 2006, 19:55, Reply)
Love like kiss or hate
My best friend at infant and junior school was a girl called Lorraine. We were very close and did everything together.

We used to play Love, Like, Kiss or Hate. For those who don't remember, one of you closes your eyes while the other one guides you up to a person who you have to say whether you love, like, want to kiss, or hate them without knowing who it is.

One day I walked Lorraine into a brick wall and she cracked her head open. Her mum wouldn't let her play with me again.

I still get a cold sweat when I think about it as I'm sure I did it deliberately. I'd like to point out I've never done anything psycho since - I'm now in my thirties and I've never hurt another living thing.

Well, apart from when my bedside lamp tells me to go out and kill small children.
(, Sun 30 Jul 2006, 19:35, Reply)
special needs friend
i made friends with a special needs boy once.
he loved watching bambi and he used to think he was
the rabbit thumper from bambi.
he would put his hands on his head like rabbit ears
and walk in front of cars. he thought i was a rabbit too.

i was in the car with my dad driving down the
street once and he started chasing the car
with his hands on his head like rabbit ears
so my dad shouted " your not a rabbit and she's not a rabbit now go home".

after that he decided he wasn't thumper the rabbit anymore and
became a deer.if i didn't call him bambi he'd get mad.

i haven't seem him for ages.
(, Sun 30 Jul 2006, 19:14, Reply)
I caught lesbia (24 hour bug)
Hum. Can't even claim youthful ignorance/ experimentation for this one as it was between adults.

She wasn't even really a close friend of mine - more a friend of a friend, although we were drinking buddies in a wider circle at work. Our friendship as such had been compromised somewhat by her catching me snogging her husband in their potting shed at one point. My bad, but to be fair we were something of a mucky bunch who had all dipped our hands in the sexual till with someone else in the circle at some stage (she certainly had).

Anyway. One day, a few of us went on a bit of an afternoon bender. No boys. As it continued on into the evening, an agreement was reached that we'd crash out at hers. Her and I proceeded to drink the rest of our friends under the table, creating a sense of solidarity. Around 5am, she made me the best sandwich I've ever had in my life (ham, coleslaw, fresh granary bap)and a mug of hot chocolate, and we crawled into bed together to watch DVDs. Ten minutes later, she made a pass at me.

Although stupidly drunk, I was still dimly aware that, despite owning three pairs of Birkenstock flip-flops, I am straight. Not to mention it was downright weird that this woman had wanted to kill me only a couple of months ago and was now enthusiastically pulling my BHS jim-jams off.

Did it anyway. Well, it WAS a lovely sandwich.

We're still mates. I drink a bit less when she's around now though...
(, Sun 30 Jul 2006, 19:09, Reply)
Well I haven't had a real friend since 2004
And have no stories for this question

But I do like the stories other people are posting! Heheh
(, Sun 30 Jul 2006, 18:26, Reply)
poo in the bath
My close friend when I were 10ish was a bit mixed up, but that was OK, because so was I. for some reason, my mother and her friends (including his ma) used to put the kids together in the bath when they got together. I guess it was probably to keep us out of trouble.

every time we bathed together, we'd sit at opposite ends of the bath. His mother would walk in at some point and be disgusted/angry that there was a turd in the bath. Despite he fact that it was directly behind his arse, he'd say "well, it wasn't me" and look over towards me pointedly, as if I had sneaked over behind him and coiled one out.

Also, when playing with toy cars, he'd always ask me which car I wanted, then declare that he was going to have that one, actually. Of course I just always asked for the shite ones, and he never noticed my ploy.

Apologies for the length (of turd)
(, Sun 30 Jul 2006, 12:30, Reply)
Friends with a Wigger ( white man who acts black)
Back in high school, about my Senior year, I met a Guy named John Agin. He was new to the point of no one seeing him, talking to him, etc. Now having been the same my first year, ( as i too transfered from another school), I immeadietly walked up to him and said hi and introduced myself. i hated seeing people sit alone. He introduced himself, with an incredibly heavy New york accent. It turned out that he was indeed from Queens. His grandmother had adopted him and moved him out to California away from his meth head mother. He was a handsome bloke, Emerald green eyes, short brown hair, a killer grin. only thing is is that he was the only white boy in the school who wore FUBU clothing. Now, if your not from america, FUBU is an expensive brand of clothing created by an African American man of unknown name, FUBU meaning " For Us, By Us." And John wore the brand well, from shoes to Ball cap, all had the FUBU logo. and he wore " bling." ( meaning heavy silver- gold necklaces and rings.) He even had a diamond earing stud. The fucker talked black, walked black, and dressed like a rapper. ( and not eminem. i mean ludacris. snoop dog. the like.) I ignored his clothing choice, and we became friends. I thought as other people who did as he did in the shcool, he would be made fun of and kicked the shit out of by the REAL black people. but oddly enough, he was accepted. not just by blacks, but by the mexican gangs. and they WERE GANGS. As our friendship grew and his grandma or " Mammie" as he called her got a liking for me, His ties to the drug selling and graffiti bits of his other " clique" got stronger, i guess. We were like peas in a pod, with one of them being a Wigger. Okay, i could deal. we even gave eachother tattoos. Mine said " Johns girl" and his was his nickname, " Lil' Wolf". Sadly, that tatt faded away, and now i'm glad it did. ( would look horid as a married woman and mother of 2, why with my hubbys name being edward.) ANYWAY. One day, his gang buddies got him into picking a fight with the star Quarterback, and at lunchtime it began. John walks up to Billy, and punches him square in the chest. Now i'm off a bit, and i dont see whats happening quite yet. But i can hear his Chicano pals laughing. My brother, Julian, tells me that Billy has John in a headlock, and is making his face into hamburger, and no ones helping him. So as the chivalrous and caring best friend / Make out buddy, I run fast as my short, chubby legs will carry me over to see blood fly from John's nose. I jump up the stairs ( hnear the football stadium) and Sock Billy in the face hard as i can, then a knee to the Testicles. this makes him let John go. ( didnt know he got billy into it yet. he kept.. details from me.) but sooner or later, this 5"2 woman has a 6"4 guy on his knees, face bloody and holding his groin. that was the power of ME, baby. Soon, me and john get dragged to the principles office. We sit down inside, wheezing, and john reaches across and gives me a kiss on the cheek and a high 5. I thought i did something good, you know. but then, His grandma called me and BITCHES ME OUT, telling me that i had better NEVER TALK TO, LOOK AT, OR EVEN THINK about her "poor Johnny" again. It turned out ( and i learned this years later) that John's mexican pals told him that if he didnt get rid of me, They'd hospitalize him. I guess it wasnt " Cool" nor a " gang status builder" to get your ass saved by a 'Chick'. So he told his Mammie that The fight was over me, that i told Billy a lie about john to make billy mad enough to beat the shit outta him. After learning the truth ( after seeing john once more when he came to my house and told me, then begged that i be his friend again) I could only close the door in his face. Neverheard from him again. I heard hes in Jail right now for drugs and attempted manslaughter of one of his so called ' amigo's.'
(, Sun 30 Jul 2006, 2:44, Reply)
D. -f-ing. U.I
My best girl friend, had at one time professed her undying devotion to me (in a non-lesbian sort of way). We were thick as theives. She even offered to be my designated driver on my recent birthday. A real friend. As we were leaving our final bar, she turned to me with a "I don't feel comfortable driving, would you mind?". Of course I obliged (after what felt like 147 birthday drinks). 5 minutes later, I was arrested for DUI and - $5380 USD later - haven't spoken to her since.
(, Sun 30 Jul 2006, 1:26, Reply)
me and my mate kev
me and this lad from school were mates for ages and he had this weird older brother called kev-cut a long story short i became best of friends with him,went on walks together-see gigs played music together all that gay mate stuff anyway about 3 years into our sorded relationship i was having a small get together at my house and kev got very drunk, his brother had allways warned me that he got strange when he drinks too much and has lost many friends through it-naaa i thaught not me and kev- were indistructable mates! a few hrs later and someone said - umm edd i think you should go have a word with kev he is meesing with your drums, i walk in to find him smeering butter allover the skins-"makes em sound better mate!" anyway at this point me and another friend carry'd him outside for the usual fresh air clear your head stuff when sudenly he picked up a empty plant pot plundged it into the pond and promptly threw it through the largest window of a guest packed concirvetory! so i asked him to leave - he ran off in the rain with one shoe on (it was mine) he reapeared about 30 mins later piss wet though with a empty bottle of beer in his hand and covered from head to toe in sand and threw his car keys in my face (here you go MATE! sell me car thattl pay for the damage to your gloriufied greenhouse) he turned round walked off into the moonlight and i never spoke to him again (his brother gave me my shoe back the next day, he had wrecked it by doing that thing where the card at the heel bends in on itself making it feel different to the other- i never forgave him)
(, Sun 30 Jul 2006, 1:20, Reply)
My "Legendary" Bra
Is currently in the ownership of a certain friend of mine. We first met about six months ago, lost touch and met again a couple of weeks ago.

Having him introduce me to all his friends as "the girl whose bra that is" and seeing the looks on their faces, well that's intense.

I am reliably informed that it has been wanked over by at least two different people. I'm not sure whether to be disgusted or strangely proud.
(, Sun 30 Jul 2006, 0:11, 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)
when i was a kid I had a friend who lived
round the corner from me. we used to make bands and play for our parents and record 'tracks' on my tape player. The band was called Two Star Petrol and between us we played flute, recorder, tennor recorder, penny whistles, keyboard and pan lids - it was all very experimental. Our early 'hits' were called things like 'Pumping Petrol' and 'Leaking Petrol'. Later we got a social conscience and made our most popular song (we actually played this one in public once) about the environment the chorus of which went:

We were given ths planet to live on
Not to chop down all the trees
Or to kill all the birds and the animals
Whenever we please

And so on. We also made a newsletter (well about 2) Two Star Petrol memorabilia (mostly pencil sharpeners with tipex on them) and 'fan papers' which were presigned pieces of paper to save time on autographs.

She moved away when I was about 12 (and she 10), and we kept in touch for a while. When she visited last we melodramtically and ironically joked that we'd never see one another again. That was 10 years ago
(, Sat 29 Jul 2006, 23:17, Reply)
When I was in primary school
I had a friend two years younger than I. We used to compare nipples and watch each other wee.

Now she's a suicidal wobbly-throwing druggie.
(, Sat 29 Jul 2006, 22:40, Reply)
hey, you're tall. yep, you're fat. yep, lets be friends.
My mate Stick(tm) is a buddy most would envy. He and I have spent many nights cooking things for no apparent reason. We made pasta. We made sausages. We bought 20kgs of chicken bones on a whim to make stock. We mostly talk about food and then eat. Sometimes we look at girls while we eat but mostly we eat. And drink.

He is the sort of guy who agrees to a road trip from Sydney to Melbourne (1000kms each way) for a gyros (similar to a kebab) from Lamb's in Carlton. I can recommend that as a trip.

Things have reached a situation where I email him if I eat something good and he sends me photos of his latest self made kitchen gadget.

He has even given up a lucrative career in IT to pursue the upper echelons of the ice cream industry www.patandstick.com.au/

The only regret I have is that being gay is illegal...
(, Sat 29 Jul 2006, 21:25, Reply)
i dont have anyfriends, sorry.
(, Sat 29 Jul 2006, 20:47, Reply)
me and my lobster
see, my friend lobster was like, doode can i drink with you? and i was all like ya. and then we drank gin, and it was like wow. and me and her were like going at it for like 2 hours. i'm a chick by the way. it was fun. but ya, we are both rather straight now. UNLESS alcohol is in the vicinity. :D
(, Sat 29 Jul 2006, 19:56, Reply)

This question is now closed.

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