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)
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)
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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)
(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)
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