Dear 'M. R':
I hate you. I hate you so very much. I hate you so much that it makes my lungs hurt. At least I think that's why they hurt. When I think about you these days, or when I give in and see you and you just betray me again, I actually feel physical pain. There are times when you've caused me to be sick, literally throw up, because of what you do to me.

I remember when we were just casual acquaintances...it must be four years ago since we first really met. I'd seen you around before then, in the pub and so forth. But when we were introduced properly, it was a revelation. From then on, you'd brighten up my night - you were just the one to round off my evening, and I got a real buzz from our interactions. But that was just flirting, really, and I hadn't yet become close enough to you for you to really hurt me.

It took me a while to realise that your intentions towards me were more than just casual. I've got to admit you were subtle about it. From seeing you when I went out at night a couple of times a week, I went to depending on our meetings. I really liked you, and I didn't think it was a bad thing that we were seeing each other so often. But it gradually began to dawn on me that you just weren't the right choice, and then after that that you never had been. I blame my girlfriend at the time. She encouraged me, and we often shared you....I remember the times the three of us went for a drive, just together in the car.

And now I don't love you any more like I did for too long a while. The problem is, you're in my blood and I can't get rid of you. I'm thinking about you right now. I want you so badly. And I know that I can't have you. And even worse, I know that I will. You're just a short walk away. I'm weak, and I fear I may never be able to quit you. Fucking Marlboro Reds. You don't even taste nice.
Apologies for length (~2" or four years, depending)
(Falstaff's Spiritual Successor, Sun 7 Mar 2010, 0:47, 3 replies)

To anyone who's ever used insults like "Spotty!" "Cooties!" "It's the Itchy and Scratchy Show!" "Scabby!" and so on...
...having chronic skin disabilities is like having corrosive acid dripped slowly on your skin, with the knowledge that it will continue until the day you die. It's knowing that every bee sting will become an infected abscess and leave a scar. It's not being able to exercise because overheating triggers a reaction.

It's having over two hours of medical treatment per day. It's taking pills that make you too tired to think, because that's better than being in pain. It's wearing long sleeved tops in summer and not being allowed to wear waterproof clothes when it rains in case they "sweat". It's avoiding make-up and beauty treatments because they set off a reaction. It's not being able to hug your mum, or your brother, or your friends, without knowing that it will hurt.

I know you think these are just words, but every time you make a joke out of a medical condition you're telling that person that every tortuous minute they experience, every time they make their disease worse in an attempt to appear normal, every time they flinch from someone touching them, is something that exists to amuse you. You're reminding them of something that, perhaps for a few simple moments, they've managed to forget. And these moments are all we get.

Not funny, but today I don't care. Sorry all. x
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 23:27, 8 replies)

dear friend
it was good to hear from you today. I didnt expect it and I dont expect to hear from you again. Still, its good to know everything we've been through hasn;t been forgotten and dismissed.
We've been through many times. People came, people went. Tears were cried over so many bad times but you were always the one that would just let me get the tears out. I've hurt my self so many times from when you make me laugh. Real, deep, heartfelt laughs. No one else could do that.
You were always there for me, but i was there for your too. The little presents that always had meanings, making sure you were always the last one i drop home so we could have tea and chats, staying up till 4am so your not alone even when i had to be up at 7.
Years passed, good times and bad, but you were always there. Even after i moved away, coming home meant seeing you. But that all changed this summer. We were silly. we crossed a line. we messed it up. things became 'weird'. Even weirder after Christmas eve.
But the weirdest thing? the night we stopped being friends is the night i realised i might love you.
I thought i found my soulmate, but ended up losing the best friend in the world. And you dont even know. you never know. and you never will x

Miss you
(Emily Salvage, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 23:08, 9 replies)

I don't know the guy personally
But a gentleman somewhere in the University has taken a few too many spliffs to the brain and has made it his mission to wage war on the E.U, which he compares to the Nazi party of Germanic fame, and he claims shares their fascist ideology.

His cogent arguments appeared at first on toilet walls with the biting "EU = [swastika]", but rapidly (d)evolved into what can only be described as a toilet essay in every sense on how the European Union IS the new Nazi Germany/Soviet Union rolled into one. His arguments run thusly (as far as I can tell - frankly they read like the ramblings of a Daily Mail writer's infant son at the pinnacle of a three day drugs and incoherence binge):

1. The U.S.S.R had a ten year economic plan. So does the E.U. (apparently)

2. The Soviet Union tried to get a bunch of countries to unite. This is the E.U's goal also.

3. The E.U wants to bin Christianity to make way for Muslims "with their funny hats" - a well-known fascist goal.

4. Something about Spain being bad.

and the crowning dog turd on the heap

5. The Nazis implemented anti-smoking policy. The E.U also wants to do something similar, therefore the E.U and the National Socialist movement are one and the same.

This final point was so strongly felt that he printed out several sheets of paper detailing it and put them up on lamp posts around where I live. There must have been thirty in all, and within a day all were gone, torn down in a fury by every member of the public who had heard of reasoning and intelligence.

Tenuously connected to the QOTW, I know, but his lamp post letters were never read. At least not without being taken away and binned instantly.

Length? I have a sizeable penis.
(StapMyVitals wouldn't mind a bit of that, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 22:58, 3 replies)

Dear x
I'm happy your exam is cancelled and your coursework is over. Mine, however, is still very much a reality, and when I don't share in your new found freedom it's because I have work to do. All my love. :-) x
(Sivvus trolley collision in the fruit aisle led to a jam, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 22:55, Reply)

Dear people who have phone insurance with barclays.
You are retards.
x
(King Baby Duck more than a ceiling, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 21:41, Reply)

Dear Ms. Edith Piaf
YOUR GAS BILL IS NOW OVERDUE!

Thank you for your telephone call received on 03/03/1960. I have thoroughly reviewed your case and whilst I understand that you are currently facing financial difficulties, it is unfortunately necessary for me to obtain some further information from you before a mutually beneficial repayment plan can be finalised.

1. When asked by our customer services representative if you owed any money to British Gas, you said, and I quote, 'No, nothing at all'. This is not reflected in our records, which show that your balance is currently Fr7.53 in arrears. Please provide us with a current meter reading as soon as possible if you feel that this is a mistake.

2. When asked by our customer services representative why you had apparently not responded to any previous communications from us, you twice responded 'I do not regret anything at all'. Please confirm your current contact address and telephone number with our customer services team (number at the top of this letter) at your earliest convenience.

3. You told our customer services representative: "everything is paid, swept away, forgotten". Again, may I draw your attention to your current outstanding balance of Fr7.53. Please provide us with a current meter reading as soon as possible if you feel that this is a mistake.

4. You told our customer services representative: "With my memories I lit the fire". That may well be so, but the fact remains that it took Fr7.53's worth of gas to keep said fire going. Please provide us with a current meter reading as soon as possible if you feel that this is a mistake.

You told our customer services representative: "I am starting again from zero". Unfortunately, we are unable to write off your debt in it's entirety at this time. Please provide us with a current meter reading as soon as possible if you feel that this is a mistake.

You told our customer services representative: "Because from today, my life, my happiness, everything, Starts with you!". Unfortunately, we are unable to offer incentives to existing customers at this time. Please provide us with a current meter reading as soon as possible if you feel that this is a mistake.

Kind regards,

N.D Bailey

Funds recovery co-ordinator

British Gas
( NotDavidBailey isn't all that sure that he is?, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 21:37, 3 replies)

Dear Ewe,
Baa baa meh-eh-eh baa BAA baa. Baa-aa-aa meh-eh-eh baa baa.

Baa ba baaaa?

Meh-eh-eh
Baa
( Greenbat, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 21:15, Reply)

dear mcdonalds
why did you do it? you gave me the most wondrous thing ever created, the cappuccino doughnut. then, you took it away. how could you? do you know how i craved for just one more of those greasy, fattening, coffee-flavoured rings of sugared evil? i can't even eat in one of your "restaurants" anymore.
that and the fact that my hygiene-unfriendly ex works for you. employees always wash their hands? don't fucking bet on it.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 21:02, 13 replies)

To my ex-boyfriend and my ex-friend
Dear Slag,

Ha! Seems that now you've got my ex all to yourself he's not enough, eh (guess I should have warned you about the tinchy cock and disasterous sexual technique but, hey, I was a bit busy being completely heart broken about being left for a moronic flirtacious cum bucket)? Well, I'm sure that when he realises that you're fucking his best friend too (and he will, mostly because I'm going to make sure that said best friend's girlfriend finds out) the shit will hit the fan enough to keep you entertained for a while.

Your days are numbered, bitch, and I will be cheering at the sidelines as you fall.

Dear Twat,

It's taken me the last year to realise that you leaving me for a slutty moron says more about you than it does about me. It says that you're a cunt.

Thanks for doing me a huge favour.


Now THAT's cathartic.
(purplebiro, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 20:46, Reply)

Dear R
The last time I got in touch with you was when I sent a heartfelt apology for my behaviour towards you and apologised for any hurt caused. Shortly after sending it I realised that actually, you are the total cunt. You took a teenage girl who clearly had issues, nurtured her to admire you and make her look good, got shit scared when she turned out to have functioning brain cells and wasn't like your other mindless fangirls, threw her away like a used toy when you finally got the attention you needed from a real girlfriend then made the teenage girl believe that *she* had hurt *you*.

By the way, if you want someone to fuck off, the way you do that is you tell them to fuck off. Not tell them you had "no choice" but to contact the police and will get a restraining order if they get in touch again, when up until an hour before you were acting like a caring friend. The fact that in the many years since I haven't made any effort to get in touch at all proves I'm not the fruitloop you liked to think I was and had you dealt with the situation like a real man, all would have been resolved nicely. I hope you feel like a total retard after telling everyone to watch out for me as I was going to be begging to be allowed to be your friend again only to find I was actually more than happy to vanish off the radar when I'm clearly not welcome. And I hope you wasted shitloads of money on extra security due to your fantasies that I'd turn up and give you hassle. You were just too much a pussy to gave the guts to tell someone to bugger off without the backup of your lawyers. Using the law to threaten people for personal problems shows what a spoilt rich wanker you are. Despite being a middle aged man with a successfull business, why are you shit scared of teenage girls half your size who do anything you tell them?

The reason I haven't been in touch isn't because I'm scared of you, in fact all my principles are telling me to stand up for myself and risk legal threats by telling you to your face what a first class cunt you are. The reason is however much your life has improved by removing me from it, mine has improved far more by removing you from it. Long may I have fuck all to do with you.

Yours very sincerely

GothicTechie.

EDIT: PS: I can't prove it was you who tried damn hard to ruin my life and came dangerously close to success, but if it was, I hope someone does the same to you one day.
(GothicTechie, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 20:40, 1 reply)

to my teachers
Dear Staff at all my schools, in particular the ones at comprehensive school,
Having spent years being told by you lot that I was thick, lazy,idle or just plain stupid I would like you all to know the reason I didn't get up to much at school even though I was verbally extremly gifted is called dyslexia. Yes it's a recognised condition world wide and you who claimed to know everything had never even heard of it. Of course the obvious exception was the old head of sixth form (Mr Y) who wanted to get me tested but the headmaster didn't believe in such a fad. So I should like to take this chance to say a great big feck you to one and all, thanks for making my life even more miserable than it already was and despite your best efforts I have made a success of myslef and now out earn the lot of you. I will see you again at your funerals where I'll be the one p@ssing down you open graves.
Yours,
big, daft and ginger.

P.S. Apologies for the destinct lack of humour but some wounds still bear scars.

oh and never mind the length madam, just feel the quality!
(The kneeling rifleman Is slowly getting there.., Sat 6 Mar 2010, 20:12, 16 replies)

Thanks
Dear makers of milkshake.

You have just made the last 4 minutes of my life very enjoyable with your banana/milk combination.

Kindest thanks

Giles.
(MistahG, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 19:52, Reply)

To My (Hurrah!) Former Employer
I have several points to make, I would have made them to your face or by cowardly email but the industry in which we work is so small and incestuous that it would no doubt come back to bite me.

I will, instead, slag you off on the internet.

To the Cheif executive. You are not head of fucking NATO. You are the cheif executive of a CHARITY that employs less than 200 people doing a hard job for very little money. Learn at least some of their names. You need to be nice to people that work for you for less than the going rate. They need to feel valued in other ways. Perhaps it's not best, then, to publicly suggest that one or two of them lie down in the road to stop your shoes from getting wet. On the shoes, you are nearly 60 ffs. Sort it out. Put your tits away while you are at it, nobody is impressed.

To your underling. You are an extremely unpleasant little man. You are petty, and you need to learn some fucking humility. Again, you are working for a CHARITY. Perhaps, it is not best, then, to buy a brand new car and parade it around when there are people around you facing redundancy? It is also probably not a good idea to have 20 different pairs of glasses to match your jumpers? Besides the fact it is insensitive, you look like a cunt. You are also the only person I know that could be slapped in front of a crowd of 200 and I could be sure that there would be no witnesses.

To you all...It is not my fault YOU lost the contract that I manage. You refused to get me involved in your tender, insisting that the scant knowledge that you have of what the people that work for you actually do was enough to show how you would do the job in the future. It certainly isn't my staff teams fault so maybe you shouldn't have punished them by making sure half their pay went missing? Maybe it also wasn't a good idea to tell them that I was responsible? They didn't believe you anyway, because you are a bunch of monkey wanking thundercunts.

Yours,

ATGIG
(allthatglittersisglitter, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 19:49, 7 replies)

Dear Mr Kinnock
I come from a poor but proud family in the Rhondda valley.

You may just remember my grandfather. He was the big deaf feller you came across in the Treorchy Labour club back in the early 1970's.

My grandfather was the feller you kept deliberately turning your back on even though you knew damn well he was deaf from birth and needed to lipread.

After an hour of this, when he threw his pint to the floor to get your attention and swang a haymayker at your smug face, he unfortunately missed and was bundled away out of the club and social justice was delivered to his ribs and face as he took a kicking from your "stasi" entourage of hangers on.

This, Mr Kinnock, caused a bit of a rift in our family. Grandad, a staunch and grizzled old Labour man had you worked out for the crook you were, but my Dad would have none of it. As far as my Dad was concerned the sun shone out of your damn arsehole. According to Dad, you were the great redeemer, come to save us all.

I remember well when I was a young child the arguments my Dad and Grandad would have. Not any ordinary argument, but an argument in sign language. The rapid silky sound of fingers moving rapidly over fingers and the slap of skin against skin, the exagerated facial expressions and most of all the periodoc thumping of a fist on a table or wall to push a point home or to interupt the other.

I always knew when they were arguing about you Mr Kinnock as it would always end up with my grandfather bellowing like an Ox in his very limited speech and Dad shouting back almost as incoherently.

My grandfather died in the mid 70's and was spared from seeing you go on to become leader of the party he so cherished, but my father still saw you as the great redeemer, the man to save us all from the Liberals and Torys.

Not even Mr Kinnock, could my father be swayed from your unholy influence when your stasi boys got hold of me, his beloved son.

Do you remember those cheeky likely lads who threw snowballs at you outside St Davids hall while you were preening and pontificating as the leader of the Labour party in front of the TV cameras. That was me . Those loveble rogues who you threw snowballs back at and got some prime "Lovable Neil man of the earth getting down with the yoof" TV footage from.

Want to know what happened the second the cameras were off?

Some very big nasty men lovingly pinned us to the wall by our necks, took our wallets and wrote down our names and address from them and after a nice headbutt to say farewell told us in no uncertain terms if they saw us within 100 feet of the glorious windbag they would break our legs.

Even after your cronies did this Mr Kinnock and beat up his son for the crime of throwing snowballs, My Dad was devoted to you.

Even after you snatched defeat from the jaws of victory in 1992 and let the grey man have another 5 years he still thought you were hard done by.

Until he saw you go into the European gravy train with the gusto of a starved pig.

And found the trough so fullsome you dragged you wife in to scarf up a bigger share.

When you finally showed your true colours, a little part of my father died there and then.

When Blair came to lead the Labour party it finished the old man off.

He voted Tory for the first time in his life and was dead from the cancer less than 2 weeks later.

For that Mr Kinnock, I can never forgive you.

To drive a good honest decent man like my father to turn against all he held dear and for him to see the start of the rot that became New Labour which has given us the monsters that are Blair and Brown.


I met you myself again, without a snowball in my hand this time, at a function in Cardiff a few years ago.

"You met my grandfather" I said

"Wonderful" you said

"Treorchy in the early 70's, he always regretted his punch missed" I said.

You looked at me for a moment, blinked and turned away without a word.

This time at least I didn't get beaten up by your stasi.

I look forward to reading your obituary you traitor!
( RadG Drinking Mojitos in the sun, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 19:38, 8 replies)

Dear Mr Ex Squirrel
I would have helped with your SEO if I could, I sent you several pages of suggestions about things to make your business website prettier, more functional and optimised. But after spending a good couple of hours writing down all these suggestions and even apologising that I could not help more (due to organising a wedding...mine) to receive a sarcastic reply advising "if you didn't want to be in touch then why don't you just say" is a bit of a kick in the vulnerables mate.

I grow weary of trying to be nice only to have you turn again when I've done nothing wrong. I think friends isn't really an option when it comes to us.

I would delete my e-mail address if I could, so that I wouldn't receive updates on the several children you have now (that are both fathered by your partners ex apparently) but I still need the address and why should I have to delete it.

We broke up 6 years ago, I am now happily married, there is no need for you to be in my life but I wish you well and I really hope you are happy too. But please do not email me any more. I will not reply.
( 99redbuffoons Reversed the polarity of the neutron flow at, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 19:23, 2 replies)

A brief compilation:
Dear J,
If you spend half an hour insisting women have it much easier than men, you will not then get to see my boobies. Furthermore, I will never forgive you for taking me to see Rock & Rolla.

Dear Another J,
Rape jokes are not the same as flirting. Being a student of...let us say Flower Studies, because I think you read b3ta, does not make you a freelance flower. My friends don't hate you because they're cliquey elitist dicks (though they are), they hate you because feminism is catching and they've heard you talk about women when you're not trying to convince me you're a New Man.

Dear at least half the people on my course,
Spelling and grammar are important. Particularly if you plan on going on to be a...flower, where knowing the difference between its and it's tends to come in handy. Did you all miss that one lesson at school on the correct use of the apostrophe?

Dear sibling,
Shut the fuck up about New Zealand and how it's your spiritual home and you're going back there so some German dude called Konrad can teach you to ski. Also, stop telling me to quit smoking.

Dear Brian McNair, alleged authority on flowers,
You're a cunt. There is no causal link between the increase in female gardeners and the decrease in pretty flowerbeds. It is arguable, even, that there has been a decrease in pretty flowerbeds. If a flower is found all over Scotland, it is not 'regional'. I have no idea why my lecturers bum you so much.

Dear self,
Shut the fuck up and write your dissertation.

Love etc
(Shinigami, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 18:50, 3 replies)

More like "Letter they'll never care about".
It's not all about how much money it makes or how much tax it generates.
Sometimes, it's there because it makes everyone's life just that little bit richer, providing a Public Service, just like you should be.

Don't sell our state owned enterprises to people that only care about how much cash they can fleece out of us.

Please.
(Scritty Bakerman., Sat 6 Mar 2010, 18:50, Reply)

Dear Flatmates.
You are all fucking pigs. How you can stand to live like this and not give a shit astounds me. I can only put it down to the fact that you're all so used to having Mummy/Daddy/the maid picking up after you at home that you still haven't realised even after five months of uni that dishes do not magically clean themselves.
Even the pious, self righteous twat that keeps putting up rude, passive agressive notes, I know who you are and half the crap in that shitpile is yours. Get over yourself.
I am so fucking glad I'm not living with you next year, if it's this bad WITH cleaners, I don't even want to know what it'll be like without.
Pick up your shit, wash your dishes, and for fucks sake please stop having screaming sex during exams. I know I can be pretty loud, but I really don't need to hear you shrieking like a fucking banshee all night before the hardest exam I have to sit.
I hope you all get food poisoning from the death trap you like to call a kitchen.
Loves
(Applebite Uh! A cow!, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 18:48, Reply)

Dear Girls
I had to leave your mum.

The constant unrelenting mental torture she was putting me through was making me ill. Nothing was good enough, not enough money, not enough time. I wasn't allowed a social life but mocked for that too.

Her expectations of life and the way we should have lived it were, if I am being kind, a complete fantasy.

Your mums over emotional "sack cloth and ashes" approach to dealing with the trials and tribulations of life combined with the bizzare idolisation of her immediate (and hideously disfunctional) family have left her bitter and self absorbed.

This, of course, will make uncomfortable reading and I understand you may feel I am attacking your mum. But thats how I felt at the time.

The truth is that we all benefitted when I left. In the long run.

Except, there is not a day that goes by that I dont have this aching void where you two should be. Even now, now that you are both teenagers, I miss you like hell. Seeing you for a Sunday isnt really enough but you wil soon be old enough to make up your own mind about stuff like that.

Love

Dad

(that was a bit unexpected..soz...but never about the length)
( Fire & Forget it's the only way to be sure, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 18:31, 2 replies)

Dear Police "Service" of [insert region]
I appreciate fully that traffic cars are expensive, as is the training of officers to patrol in them, so I can see why the use of speed cameras is tempting.

Unfortunately, a camera on top of a pole, or some low-paid non-plod parked in a van at the side of the road pointing lasers at people is no help when there's a chavmobile mating with my exhaust pipe because the missing link behind the wheel is aggrieved that I'm somehow impeding his progress.

Your cash machines (sorry safety cameras) also have a blind spot when it comes to detecting the dickheads whose mobile phones are permanently stuck to their ears while they weave down the middle of the road or pull out in front of people they can't see because the arm holding the phone gets in the way.

Where are you when the pubs chuck out to catch the drunk drivers before they endanger everyone else who has the misfortune to be in their vicinity?

Where are you when the kids can't cross the road to school because drivers won't stop?

If that's what you call service, your definition differs from mine.

/rant
( Snappyuk gets BIGGER with free sample., Sat 6 Mar 2010, 18:25, Reply)

Dear Amorous Badger,

If you don't like someone on here, then why bother reading their posts?You have an ignore button for a reason, use it.

Your QOTW Fail Archive was quite funny for a while, but does it not become tiresome having to look for the worst in QOTW? Surely you can just read the good, creative writing on here from the many talented writers, and pass over the ones you don't like, just like the rest of us? QOTW is full of lies and stupid stories, but have you never read a fiction book? Many are written in a way that it is meant to be believable, doesn't mean they are true. Have you written a letter to Stephen King, saying "this REALLY happened"? No? I didn't think so.

It becomes an effort for people like me to even read the replies on certain stories, when they are funny and obviously not true, when I know that you are going to be coming up with such a witty original comment that you haven't done a million times before. Your constant pathetic comments on stories that you don't like are sucking the enjoyment out of QOTW.

If you have that much of an issue with the as many of the QOTW answers as i have gathered, why not stay on /talk? Save yourself the effort of reading all the positively ghastly lies that people are purposely writing with the ultimate goal of getting in the Archive?

Some of the replies on here may be worthy of mockery, but does it mean it is your duty to find each and every one, and let them know that you've seen straight through them?

You have attacked some genuinely creative and interesting pieces of writing whilst not actually contributing anything yourself. Is your Archive your way of collecting reasons why you shouldn't bother writing? As a reminder that you might end up receiving some criticism yourself?

It has become weary.

Please cease and desist,

Yours,

dezorama
( the pink chicken sniffer sniffs pink chickens., Sat 6 Mar 2010, 18:10, 32 replies)

Dear un-named male friend,
We're pretty good friends. You have a lot of troubles and issues right now, and I am more than happy to be your sounding board and look after you while you're going through this. I understand that you're pouring out your heart and innermost thoughts to me, and although I don't consider us bestie mates or anything of the sort, I understand that you might need some reciprocation. So to demonstrate my equivalant trust in you, I told you a little secret about me. It was only a small secret concerning the identity of the person I had a mild crush on, nothing important but I thought it would make you feel trusted.

I was then rather surprised that the next time we were in a gathering of friends with facebook on in the corner on a computer that you purposefully logged into my account where on the facebook feed was a post from my crush. I didn't really expect you to say loudly 'ooh he's cute,' and then to look straight at me and say 'oops I better not say that while Amberl is here.' That was bad enough. The reason this crush is kept absolutely secret is that he is in a relationship and I would never ever make a move or let my feelings be known while that is the case. So for you to turn and say 'and he's in a relationship naughty you,' made me look a selfish twat. To make a further comment to the effect that his girlfriend is prettier than I am, just added fuel to the fire. Trust is earned, and small things can matter. Please do not be upset or offended that I will not tell you anything further about myself. I am happy to listen, but I am not happy to be taken for a fool. A man who cannot be trusted with small things, cannot be trusted with big things either.

Your friend

Amberl
( Amberl was stripey and dominated Europe, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 18:03, 19 replies)

To the guy I thought I knew.
Although I didn't like you giving up on a future together, I eventually understood why you thought you had too. It was painful for a while but I figured we could remain friends if we put the work in. I waited for you to contact me again and say hi or start some silly conversation which would put me at ease and re-start our friendship but it never came. The pain of the breakup then festered longer and longer as I realised you didn't care as you had proclaimed. The bitterness crept in and sucked away at my self esteem until I started to regret our time together.

And then just as I started to be happy again, I get a message saying it's all my fault we didn't stay friends and I made things difficult for you. Luckily I'm now strong enough to not let you hurt me with this accusation and past the desire to want to remain friends.

Good luck with your future.......you're going to need it.
( girlinthehole, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 18:01, Reply)

Dear handsome,
I guess I was in love with you just a tiny bit before we even met. I already knew so much about you, and how you looked. Then one day early last year, we finally met with our friends and had a very, very funny day. When you left, to go back to your hometown, I knew I was smitten and even though I had said I wanted to give myself a long stint of single-dom, after a horrible marriage, if you had asked me out there and then. I would have said yes. Absolutely.
You came to see me again, and we got together, kind of. I came to visit you a few times, you always made me laugh harder than I ever thought I could. But after a while I became aware that it was starting to hurt. We slept together for the first time. Then I realised that your obsession with another woman, was firmly there, and not going away. As our relationship was casual you would talk about her every time I saw you.
People would ask you why we weren’t together and you would say you wanted to be single. I understood that, really I did, but my love for you was so powerful it overwhelmed me. You would get close to me and then run away. Being honest with myself, I did the same thing. I was too scared of how much I could feel. I tried to break off contact and tried in a round about way to explain how my heart was aching and I had to for my own good stay away. You kept in touch. I don’t think you understood how hard I had fallen.
I came through a bad few months and felt more in control of my emotions and we continued to be more than friends. I had other ‘more than friends’, but none whom I really felt anything for apart from having fun. I think then you started to see me differently and then I began to fall in love with you all over again. You would tell me things you would never tell anyone else. I knew you needed me just as much as I needed you. You cried about things that made you sad and I looked after you. I have tried to inspire and support you to make the changes you need to make your life all you want it to be.
We were always in constant contact with silly messages and phone calls. I lived for them.
Then I would visit again, but you would make me feel unwelcome unintentionally, I knew you were not having a good time emotionally, but I promised myself I wouldn’t do it again. Then one day, it really did all get too much and I freaked out and cut you off. I was astonished at your reaction. You were so very upset, and your apology broke my heart. We were actually quite honest with each other for what felt like the first time ever. We told each other we love each other, and I know we do. But I know you will never love me in the way I want you to. Spending time with you recently was magical. You never fail to make me laugh and your arms around me really do feel like home. They feel like home.
After nearly a year of falling asleep thinking of you, and thinking of you as soon as I wake up I decided that enough was enough. I have reached the point after nearly 2 years alone that I want to be able to shower my affections on someone, plan things together and feel again. I was never going to be able to do that while my heart was ‘you’ shaped. I have met someone lovely, and he seems to like me. I have to give up on you. I know I don’t want to but I have no choice. I wish you would do something monumental to make me change my mind. It makes me so sad to give up on the man of my dreams, my world, my universe, my everything.
At least I know we will always be friends, and everyday I thank the stars for bringing you to me.
That is all.
( Herb Alpert's Taxi Driver I have very beautiful lips, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 16:02, 4 replies)

dear inanimate objects.....
...which stop working inexplicably.

Please.


Just.


Fucking.


Work.











Please!
(tinypod will never learn. Ever., Sat 6 Mar 2010, 15:52, 1 reply)

windsocks
Dear Female Pornstar(s),

When having a sterioded freak with a 10" penis make love to you with all the subtlety of a pneumatic drill forcing it's way through layers of concrete, please do not ask him to "fuck my little pussy." You have taken many similar phalluses in your career, which will leave your vagina with all the tightness of a wizard's sleeve.

Your in wanking.

TexasPete
(TexasPete enjoyed being sexually molested by your Father on, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 15:51, 4 replies)

an open letter
Dear Mr O'Brien

Please don't lie and worm your way out of paying a, quite substantial, traffic offences fine.

MTFU and pay it, don't say you live in the same house as I do as you clearly don't.

Regards
( Jinxy13 is hating the S key, right about now., Sat 6 Mar 2010, 15:30, Reply)

Dear HP
All I needed from you was a driver for my shiny new scanner/printer. If I had wanted to clog up my wife's laptop with bloated crapware, I'd have installed Norton.

When I buy a pound of apples at the market, the vendor doesn't force me to buy some fetid bananas and a bag of mouldy plums, so why do you think you can get away with it?
(lolwhites, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 15:23, 1 reply)

Dear Ginger
Ginger you..
You ginger sons of gingers and may your gingers ginger in a ginger...
Yours
slightly peeved of Barnaldswick
(TROLLING AWAY living under a post ironic bridge, Sat 6 Mar 2010, 13:37, Reply)