Nuclear spuds.
The former Mr Droog:

Once refused to eat a jacket potato that I had microwaved for him. Rather than tell me that he didn't fancy a jacket potato, or perhaps that he preferred his potatoes when cooked in the oven, told me that, when microwaved, potatoes retain the 'gamma radiation' given off, and that ingesting these radioactive - presumably glowing green - spuds caused stomach cancer. My claim of "bollocks" was met with full on hissy rage at my not believing him, and therefore not trusting him etc etc etc ...

For the first six months of our relationship, he told me that he was half American on his dad's side, he had a dual nationality passport, the lot. He even referred to his mum as 'mom' (but everything else was spoken in a perfect English accent ... prick...). I found out after we split up that the only tenuous link he had to the yanks was that his auntie had married one and now lives in New Jersey.

He said he was part Scottish, his family had it's own tartan, and often wore a kilt. I believe he still maintains this to be true even to this day.

Told me his sister's then boyfriend (who is a lovely chap and who I have remained friends with to this day) was the best guitarist ever, and was so good and so competent at strumming right-handed that he decided, just for the hell of it, to learn how to play left-handed and became super über guitarist again, only left handed. He's an alright guitarist as it happens, but he's not a professional player by any means and has never played left-handed in his life.

Told me he once modeled underwear for Marks and Spencers. Any requests for proof / model shots etc were met with abupt changes of subject / random hissy rages at my not believing / trusting etc etc ...

He told me that the reason he lost his job at a computer shop was because he didn't like the shifts, and the reason he lost his job as a carpet salesman was because the new boss 'didn't like him'. He lost the first job when he was caught nicking a game, and the second when he was caught trying to smuggle a full roll of carpet out the back to give to his mates (his mates, by the way, were oblivious to his thievery, as he had told them that the carpet was lying around and they were going to chuck it out, and them taking it off their hands would be a favour to the company. Not so.)

I could go on and on. Quite how I managed to stick with this phenomenal bullshit artist for two whole years of my life is beyond me.

ZOMG LENGTH!
( Droog is too orangey for crows, Thu 29 Nov 2007, 15:03, Reply)