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This is a question My Arch-nemesis

I lived in fear of a Darth Vader-esque school dinner lady who stood me perpetually at the naughty table for refusing to eat mushy peas. An ordeal made worse after I was caught spooning the accursed veg into her wellies. Who, we ask, has wrecked your life?

Thanks to Philly G for the suggestion

(, Thu 29 Apr 2010, 12:01)
Pages: Popular, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

Hmmm, I was out of work from november to march, during this period I applied for my dream job at a jobs fayre in a town nearby. I then got another (much crapper) job, which I left after they decided not to pay me!
it was then last week when I recived a phonecall saying I had an interview for the dream job i'd applied for months ago, i was over the moon and so enthusiastic they offered me the job straight away.
Then the job centre got involved...
They phoned me yesterday to tell me that i couldnt have the job i'd just got because i was no longer on benefits! this position was for someone on benefits, and apparently the fact that I was on jobseekers when I first applied, and that im still jobless now doesnt make a difference. ive since had to reclaim benefits (40 minutes on hold then 30 talking to the rudest most inconsiderate woman in the world!) to get my job so i can then sign off benefits again.
None of this makes sense to me, ive had nothing but problems in my relationship with the DWP and this is the icing on the cake- Not only have they done little to nothing in aiding me back to work, Their now trying to take work away from me, Surely something somewhere has gone wrong for this to be aloud to happen!! What a system.
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 22:22, 11 replies)
Potentially it was me
Anyone remember the twunt who used to wander round the library saying "can I remind you all that this is a SILENT study area?" - surely you must. Every sixth form library has one.

Well, I was that twunt. For a time anyway.

Having recently found myself in need for a job quite urgently, I went for and took a role which I was led to believe was IT related, but turned out to be more of a librarian's lackey. Oh well, it was money. The manager had a thing for ensuring that the silent study zones remained absolutely silent, so we all had to go on Sshhh duty all day, every day. It was crap. The thing about 16-18 year olds is that they're not that interested in working quietly. When they're working they're multi tasking, eating, chatting with friends or on the phone. When they're not working they're either playing the Helicopter game (awesome fun, even now) or looking at porn (also awesome fun, but in public? Really?). And I went round badgering them all to stop - what a cnut!

To cut a long story short, it was shit. I hated doing it, and was pretty roundly hated in return. I may well have been considered an arch-nemesis for some tiny portion of somebody's day. Maybe not. Anyway, time moved on as it invariably does and a better job came up. I took it. I feel much better now, calmer, as if I am doing something to help people rather than get in their way.

But you know what? I'm not sorry. You were noisy bastards.
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 19:13, 2 replies)
David Cameron
I know he's an evil Tory who would destroy the country, but given the chance, I'd sleep with him.

*hangs head in shame*
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 18:05, 17 replies)
My dog really hates...
...nuns, robins and white Hyundais.

I'd ask him if they achieve arch-nemesis status, but he's a fucking dog, people.
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 16:11, 5 replies)
Anyone ever had problems with Magpies?
A few months ago next doors cat (flossy) killed a Magpie and ever since we have had two of the buggers hanging around the garden. So essentially my cat's nemesis more than mine. Although they might have the potential to be my nemesis if this shit continues. This came to a head when my cat, who loves climbing trees, was being harassed by these two magpies at the top of the tallest tree in the garden (35ft). They are smarter than I thought and were trying to lure him to the end of the branches to make him fall, whilst trying to peck him when his back was turned and also calling on the whole bird kingdom of my town.

I am not kidding you when I say that their he-man like squawking was attracting birds for miles around that were swooping in low to see what was going on, Kites, Seagulls and the odd wood pigeon ...evil things I tell ya. The thing that freaked me out the most was the fact that they saw me looking at the unfolding drama through my top window and flew over to my ledge to eyeball me. Close up these things are massive, for garden birds anyway, it reminded me of a cross between the birds and the omen and now I’m worried they are going to dive bomb me in retribution for the death of their relation, even though me and my cat had nothing to do with it.....Anyone had any experience with these sinister bird beasts?
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 15:05, 29 replies)
My dad, as fans will remember, is an archetypal mad scientist - bald, bearded, bespectacled, little bit loopy, lovely chap.
Being a scientist, he doesn't do god or the supernatural, but one story he does have is not so much of an arch nemesis, but of karma:

My dad was lying in the bath one day - I think before my sisters and I were born - and there was a Yucca plant of my mum's at the end of the bath. My dad hated that Yucca. You know when you just ... don't like something. It was horrid to him in every way.

Lying in the bath, he stared at it, hating it and it's very existence (In a way, I agree with him - Yuccas are smug - almost gloating).

Suddenly, without prompt nor warning, the Yucca JUMPED into the bath with him. Within seconds, he was lying in, in essence, a pool of mud. The more he thrashed around, the more muddy and filthy the bathroom became.

Don't hate on the Yuccas folks.
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 14:41, Reply)
They come out of the toilet and eat your bottom.

I have no real-life arch-nemeses, so I'll just carry on being afraid of the imaginary ones, thankyouverymuch.
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 14:31, 3 replies)
My Shower
Why is my shower my arch-nemesis?

Is it its incessant passive aggressive drip?
Or the fact that the temperature fluctuates between liquid nitrogen and molten iron?
Or even that the head continues to fall down and spray water at the wall throughout the whole ordeal?

No. The reason the shower is my arch-nemesis is that despite all these factors, it still lures me in with the prospect of cleanliness at least once a month*.

What a douche.

* That's normal, right?
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 14:29, Reply)
I feel inspired by "Hernandez Fiendish"'s post.

So, Julia - name changed to protect the whacko - was my nemesis using the same logic there.

At Uni, there were 5 of us, Steve, Mani, Nicki, Julia and me - we were the best of friends (still are - apart from Julia). Unfortunately, I fancied Julia. A lot. And despite the fact that I thought I hid it, it was, without a doubt, the most obvious thing in the world - in fact, if I'd tattood to my head "JTW loves Julia" it might have been less obvious.

It started well, we'd hang out, go to all the same lectures, stay at each others houses/halls/etc, go out together for all meals and nights out - we were all inseperable friends. What I didn't notice was the fact that I was, slowly, being manipulated by Julia.

She knew how I felt about her (hell, everyone did) but she had a boyfriend - I was single and sinfully geeky so I had no chance whatsoever at pulling on a night out. On those rare occasions where I **nearly** pulled, Julia would storm over, announce herself as my girlfriend and scupper any chances I had.

She didn't want me, but wanted to make damned sure that noone else could have me - she did a bang up job of it too as I didn't hook up with anyone I met at uni (there were two who I'd met at college and were outside of her influence - that being the equally mad Vicki and the lesbian Dawn - don't ask).

She treated me like shit too - fetch this, get that, carry this, pay for that - I, like a moron, obliged.

A couple of things stand out though:

* A uni "ball" - Ok, I was drunk, but she didn't discourage me from "flirting" with her (well, she started it and I carried on in my own awkward and, frankly, embarassing fashion) in front of her then boyfriend (who was a little more psycho than the good Mr Lecter) to the point where he wanted to stave my head in but it was my friend Steve who stopped him - NOT her.
* A night out in some club in Sheffield where she, for reasons that I can't even remember, threw a pint over me for "not paying her attention" even though I'd been keeping her company all night.
* My 21st where she originally hadn't planned to come as she was seeing her boyfriend and she then, at the last minute, came and then spent the evening crying about some problem with her boyfriend and moaning about the party - which my Mum had organised, let my friends stay over at hers and paid for.
* Her and a friend of hers flirting with 2 guys all night who, obviously, thought they were in, but then at the last minute after several hours of come-on the girls decided that me and my friend Mark were "their boyfriends" and we "weren't happy" with those two fridge sized gentlemen.
* At my uni house, coming over, getting hammered then throwing up on the porch and in the hallway and then complaining when my housemates were pissed off with her.
* After I left uni I, tragically, moved to a house near her in Greenhill - Sheffield and she demanded a key to the house. She didn't get it as Steve wouldn't allow it (I was going to though...)
* At that house warming demanding that the couch be moved outside - I did just that.
* Trying to freeze out my then girlfriend (who eventually came to be my wife (and ultimately ex-wife) who hated Julia - quite rightly too)
* Agreeing to come over to mine with all my friends for a night out and then cancelling on that morning for a hastily planned BBQ instead. It was bad enough that Steve and Mani couldn't make it for geographical reasons, but at that I was, inexplicably, crushed.
* When I realised what was going on, 3rd year at uni, and I started to stand up to her, she made every effort to put me down to everyone and wouldn't accept that I was no longer her lackey.

How was she my nemesis - Looking back, she was my closest friend for a while, but she did her damndest to ensure that I wasn't happy and was her "bitch".

It took me years to get over her, even when I was with the girl I was with. I felt like I'd had my heart ripped out, shown to me and then replaced with a rust spoon. I never quite worked out why a friend would turn on me like that.

I tried to patch things up with her after uni which failed as she wouldn't recognise or apologise for what she did - And I was forced to accept that she'd never be my friend again.

She did ask to be my friend on Facebook, but that was "ignored" - it's a real shame that notification can't be sent back - y'know with a "fuck off" message.... She, unfortunately, features in a Facebook photo set of mine as she was with us all at my graduation - can't be helped and I'm not petty enough to edit her out.

My friends like to remind me of this as, now, it's something I can laugh about as it was pretty much pathetic behaviour on my part.

One friend of mine decided, after I told him about this, that he was intrigued and went out with her for a few years. I pitied him and I got to hear that she, ultimately, is still a grade A whack-job.

One thing I do know is that in the intervening period, I now look about 100 times better than I did then, whereas she got chubby and her ass got big :)

Wow, I got carried away there - ahhh - b3ta therapy :)

ETA - if you're a Facebook friend of mine, I'll link you to a photo of her and even tell you her real name :)
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 13:52, 14 replies)
My manager - many years ago
After uni, I did a couple of jobs and ended up at the Global IT company that I'm at now. It's ok - I mean, I left and then went back so it can't be all bad.... (!)

When I started, I worked in hell, sorry Hull - My manager, let's call him Michael, for t'was his name - was, to be frank, a dooshbag - of the highest quality. I know dooshbag is a horrendous americanism, but it describes him perfectly.

My first week was where it went wrong - upon being asked where I want to be in 6 months, I said "in your job". This did not go down well.

The next 2 years were spent trying, desperately, to progress beyond the menial grade I was on to something a bit better, but I was undermined at every turn, reviews were harsh and negative.

He wouldn't hesitate to put me down in front of the customer and make damned sure everyone knew he was the boss and I was a lackey. I, somehow, never rose to this.

As a result of this, we fought (in the private office we had) tooth and nail. And, now I look back, it meant the I developed what could only be described as a fuck off great chip on my shoulder.

Over the couple of years, I grew to hate him - I saw my career (such as it was) stalled and I was desperate to get away from him, but at every turn, he would undermine me and scuppered any attempt at an internal transfer.

The only upside to this was Nicki who I worked with (who is still a good friend of mine 13 years later) who ended up being the referee between us and managed to calm me down when all I wanted to do was smash the little fuckers face in. Without her, I suspect that I would have thrown him off the roof.

Michael Wood - my nemesis - Since you left after 2 and a half tortueous years, I have progressed so spectacularly to be a well respected and highly skilled consultant - I hope that your career floundered and that you and your wife "Maris"* ended up in some council estate in the depths of Rotherham**.

* Maris wasn't her real name, but I called her that once and the name stuck as noone actually, ever, met her
** Ok, maybe not Rotherham as I wouldn't wish that on anyone....
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 13:19, 5 replies)
Me and the missus
went for a picnic and we sat down near a bridge. She handed me a sandwich and asked what condiment I'd like.

That was my arch name-a-sauce.
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 13:19, 4 replies)
It was good
I watched it last night, not the greatest of storylines, but it was watchable, especially as I am a Trekkie.

Oh hang on - "Arch" Nemesis.

Sorry - as you were.
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 13:05, Reply)
I created my current nemesis by being nice!
A few months ago the company I work for moved from some shoddy run down business park in the middle of Wakefield to a converted manor house on the outskirts. The place itself is placed in an odd location. It is surrounded by a few large houses that are owned by a few more well off people. To separate the toffs from the council estates located nearby the council has decided to leave a woodland area in-between that contain all types of wildlife. If the weather is decent I will spend my lunch hour walking around the place, it helps me wind down and gets me away from the workplace.

A few weeks back I was walking along and found a small pond. I had already started eating my sandwiches and decided to finish them off at the side of the pond watching the 3 ducks sat at the side of the water . The ducks eyed me up and slowly made their way across the pond to investigate. By the time they had reached me I had finished my sarnie and crisps and was about to eat the biscuits I had packed, one of the feathery buggers craned his neck in such a way that I thought the duck was trying to say “Ooh that looks nice can I have a try please mister”. As I was in a good mood I happily broke up two of my custard creams and threw them to my new animal friends who wolfed them down straight away.

I returned to the pond every day and would happily feed the ducks a few of my biscuits when I went. Until I forgot my lunch one day and had to buy a pasty from the local shop. I walked back past the pond and along came the ducks to greet me. As I had no biscuits I thought that they would be ok with a bit of crust from the pasty I was eating and threw it to them. Big mistake! Maybe there was some pepper on the crust or maybe Custard creams are like a drug to these feathered buggers as after one of the group tried to fit the crust down its throat it immediately spat it back up. The 3 ducks all looked at me as if to say “What the hell iis this , we wanted our biscuits dammit” I just shrugged and continued to make my way back to the office. One of the feathery buggers then decides that I must be hiding something and he is going to attempt to search me for food and starts to advance towards me flapping his wings and quacking quite loudly, I just walked away as I thought that the RSPCA (or RSPB) would jump out of somewhere nearby if I tried to kick the demented little sod.

After this incident the little fuckers have realised that they can’t trust me and will sit on the roof of one of the houses near to the woods entrance to watch me coming. For me the scene at the end of The Birds is a daily occurrence (except with 3 small custard cream addicted junkie ducks instead of murderous birds) If I even look like I am going to take a different route away from their pond the buggers will fly (well glide really) off the sodding roof towards me while quacking.

I know I should just go somewhere else for dinner but I don’t like the prospect of spending my dinner time in the office. I am also toying with the idea of putting bourbons in my lunch instead just to see how they would react, I can’t really beat the crap out of them with a squash racket can I?
(, Wed 5 May 2010, 12:00, 4 replies)
I have been debating whether to include this, but against all my better judgement, have decided to.

My real nemesis.

Her name is Alice. She is the epitome of the phrase 'vacuous, attention seeking spunk bag', yet seems detemined to haunt me for the rest of my life. Allow me, if you will, to take you back seven or eight years...

Belladonna is at secondary school. Not just any secondary school, but an all-girls one. She likes alternative music, and her sense of style reflects this, along with her everyday demeanour, and her *shock* willingness to learn. This does not sit well with the chavs and dolly birds. Belladonna is bullied. Quite badly. Just as she is about to give up hope, she stumbles across an enclave of like-minded people made up of a few people from her year, a couple from the younger years, and some from the older. This is good. She feels at home. She stops self-harming and enjoys the company of people who don't want her crucified for her non-conformism. She is introduced to Alice, a girl from two years above who shares her taste in music. Everyone gets along, and is happy. Alice, as the loudest (and in retrospect, most obnoxious) of the group, is Queen Bee. This sits well with Belladonna - after all, she and Alice are good friends, yes? Oh. Apparently not. You see, whenever Belladonna goes off somewhere, Alice takes it upon herself to disparage whatever it is that she doesn't like about Belladonna that day, despite complimenting her on it earlier. She doesn't like Belladonna's glasses. Belladonna's new shoes are stupid. Why is Belladonna always reading books? Eventually, Belladonna finds out about this, and is further back than square one would be, wondering why someone who she so (misguidedly) respected would hate her so much. Before, she had always known that her taste in music and clothes would get her bullied, so why is it that someone who shares those tastes would also bully her? Belladonna must be a bad person, she reasons. Depression kicks in again, and she is self-harming more and more, and trying to be needed by anyone who will have her. It is a bad time, and will continue for about a year, before she leaves the school and meets a certain Mr. Anodyne.

Fast forward in time...

So, you might see why I hated Alice at that time. However, you might also think that I should MTFU and stop whinging about what happened in secondary school. Surely a few snide comments aren't enough to elevate her to nemesis status? Well, no. For a couple of years, I'd forgotten about her. I'd regained my self-confidence, and just concentrated on Me and Mr. Anodyne, and getting myself an edu-ma-cation. But then, up she springs, into my life, over and over again.

The first time was when I had met my mum for a few post work/college drinks (she's cool like that). I went out for a smoke, and ran into a person I'd just made friends with a few weeks before - sat next to Alice. He introduces us and explains that they work together, before we point out (through gritted teeth) that we already know each other, and swap the least heart-felt smiles ever seen on humans. I made my way inside, and saw her (through the window) whispering to this person and looking at me. He never spoke to me again, despite the fact that we'd got on ridiculously well.

The second time I saw her was essentially the same. Someone I knew, and was friendly with whenever I saw, worked with her. As soon as Alice saw I knew her, the whispering began, and she never spoke to me properly again.

The third (and final - so far) time came only two weeks ago, when she came into the pub I was working in, with her new boyfriend - who happens to be the son of some of my good friends. Nothing has happened yet, but I had to put up with her screeching attempts to dominate conversation and pointed glares all night.

The thing is, I could have let all this go, but she is, quite literally, one of the most obnoxious people I've ever had the misfortune to meet. She *must* dominate every single conversation she's in, and is the kind of girl (who makes me sick) who must always point out to the guys in the room that she is infact, female. She quotes vacuous publications like Heat magazine (don't ask me how I know, long story) in an attempt to get laughs from people who haven't heard it before, and the thing that galls me most is that she is, without a doubt, one of the stupidest people I've ever met.

And I still don't know what the hell I've ever done in order to make her want to make people hate me. I don't even know what it is she's telling them, because all I ever did at school was listen to her and agree with everything she said because she was older than me and we liked the same music.

Fucking Twatbag.
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 20:31, 19 replies)
I think we're all forgetting what Nemesis truly is.
NEMESIS was the goddess of indignation against, and retribution for, evil deeds and undeserved good fortune. She was a personification of the resentment aroused in men by those who committed crimes with apparent impunity, or who had inordinate good fortune. Her attributes were apple-branch, rein, lash, sword, or balance.

That's the sort of thing reserved for important and powerful people. Instead of NEMESIS I got Mildred the Mildly Disapproving whose attributes are the Dreaded Tut and the Vexed Sigh.
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 17:31, 4 replies)
I'm basically a dead man.

Look at this guy.

And his name's Raven.
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 17:18, 3 replies)
My first proper job
I had a pretty tough childhood, my parents never really wanted a kid and I had no other family to speak of, so they abandoned me around the time I was due to start school. I spent my youth going from one foster home to another, never really fitting in. They weren't exactly nurturing places, I never got anything to myself and rarely got a full meal, so I took up a dodgy cash-in-hand job to try and survive. Of course, I never told anyone, I'd just sneak off instead of going to school and deliver packages for the local toy store.

A few years later I was caught up in an accident and laid up in hospital for months in a full body cast. In hindsight it was the best thing to ever happen to me, it got me out of that rut and I decided to spend more time on my education. In whatever free time I'd have from day to day I'd study science, I even managed to get a place at the open university to read nuclear physics. Just as I was finishing I got a lucky break; the local news station in my hometown picked up on me graduating (it must have been a slow news day, but I'm not complaining) and the manager of the local nuclear powerplant saw the report.

I guess he must have felt a little sorry for me because he managed to rationalise giving me a job as his 2nd in command on the strength of a single news report about my work ethic. However, when I turned up I found out that he was a very fickle man and had changed his mind in the intervening time and hired someone else. His assistant (who was the campest man I've ever seen in my LIFE) took me to find my new job 'somewhere out of the way'. I should have just walked out right then and there.

I got my desk set up and my new co-workers came around to introduce themselves, two of them seemed nice enough, but the third was the embodiment of the word 'oaf'. A fat, obnoxious american bloke who I later found out didn't even go to university. He rifled through my things, laughed at his own stupid jokes and mispronounced even the simplest of words.

As the days progressed it got harder and harder to stand him, whereas I'd had to work hard for everything I'd got the same had just fallen into his lap. He had a job where he was responsible for the safety of thousands of people and as far as I could tell he didn't even have a secondary-school education, let alone any idea of what he was doing. He'd engage in reckless behaviour that by all rights should have killed him and escaped unharmed. When I tried to intervene with him messing around with a jar of acid I did manage to save his life, but got a reprimand from my boss for damaging company property.

I'll admit, it got to me. A lot. I started thinking of myself only in terms of being his enemy, the hatred slowly grew and festered in my mind and he did nothing to stop it. In fact, after I'd blown up at him one day I felt a bit guilty, so went to his house to apologise. Not only did this utter twunt have a beautiful wife and three lovely children, but he was having lobster for dinner. I was having baked beans! I lost it.

The next day at work I decided that I'd had enough of my life, I wanted things the easy way from now on. Why should I bother with safety gloves? He doesn't! He's fine! He's got lobster! I don't need the gloves either! Because I'm Homer Simpson! … It did not go well.

- Frank Grimes
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 17:13, 1 reply)
My Car!
My car, it's pure evil. It's not the newest car in the world, and it is a Vauxhall, but I look after it and get it serviced but that's never enough for it. Every time I save up some money, for a new telly for instance, it senses and deliberately breaks an expensive pars.

Worse it always does it at the worst time: half 11 at night at Liverpool airport, knackered after a day trip to Ireland? Perfect time to have the oil pump disintegrate and come within inches of destroying the cam belt! Even better a 2 hour tow back to North Wales.

Taking your misses to a job interview? Alternator goes and no car for you.

Giving your friends a lift to look a wedding interview and running late? Why not snap a suspension coil and ruin the CV joints at the same time.

It even let's me think I've fixed something myself with the Hayne's manual, by not having a fault any more, waits until I've told people I fixed it, then breaks down this morning with a faulty starter.

It even waited until last week's question closed before doing it! It's evil, pure evil!

First post please don't eat me!
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 16:56, 8 replies)
every single person on the tube
every single morning. lolling around, taking up all the seats, taking up all the standing area, crowding up all the doors, making every single carriage crammed and sweaty and hot and fetid and full of perverts, stopping me from getting on and getting to work looking cool and refreshed and professional but instead making me look harassed and hot and uncomfortable.

don't they understand i am entitled to an entire train to myself ffs? honestly, just how selfish can you get...
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 15:42, 11 replies)
My brother...
...He says he doesn't have an arch-nemesis because he's too awesome.

And he might be right.

But probably not.
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 13:10, 7 replies)
As if by magic, (Or how to set your goals)
My nemisis' name has just popped up on Facebook. He was the man to change my life for the better.
(Skip if you're looking for funnies)
When I was a young lad, I had a passion for my sport. So much so, I went for the county championships. I managed a bronze which you might think was not too shabby for a first attempt. Not for me. The chap who won, T, had ruined my sport. Shown me how good I should have been.
So I quit. Like many others at sixteen no doubt, I found the joys of sex, drugs and an element of rock an' roll.

Always in the back of my mind was what could have/should have been. Always too, was the knowledge that T would be there, no doubt far ahead of me.

So ten years or so later, I decided that I needed that bit of me time again, regardless of the fact T would be there, got back into the sport, trained mercilessly and found a new level of desire to win. It took three or four years to get to the level I felt comfortable with.

I went back to the county champs. T was there, looking just as able but with ten years of extra training under his belt.

I won the first comp. I won the second later that year. I even won the tougher third comp. So that year I held all three possible county cups in the sport.

T did not look too happy. I'd like to think I spurned him into more training, because the following year he came back for more. I beat him in all three disciplines again. (Particularly proud because I now had my name on the trophies spanning two centuries!)

At this time I'd also been coerced by my coach into doing masters internationals too. This meant even more training and lots of time away. (Didn't do too bad either, bronze in 2000 worlds best result, got a silver in 2001 Europeans!(Yes I know you don't care!))

This meant at the county champs third time round I was ready. Really ready with a few tricks up my sleeve. Yes I won, by a long way, and T retired from the sport. As did I. Not only had I beaten my nemesis, my own goals and the ravages of time, I had done it by a long way.
Apologies for length but not for content. A boring post I know, but relevant for once, and particularly touching as I was trying to think of a nemesis and up his name popped!

Who knows, ten years have passed since then, maybe I should give it another go?
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 12:25, 20 replies)
I've had an arch-nemesis since school
He describes himself as a Chaos Magician and is obsessed with Aleister Crowley, Black Magick (the 'k' is extra-important, of course) and martial arts of varying deadliness. He's written a book about martial arts and meditation and has a collection of knives and blades - he used to write the names of his enemies on his sword with Tipp-ex, it now has so many names on it that he could probably use it as a cudgel. Mine's been on there a few times. Since discovering Derek and Clive he sends me abusive text messages that begin and end with "you cunt", usually enquiring after my girlfriend's bra size.

The amount of stories he's supplied me with over the years could fill QOTW by themselves - e.g. Out of his mind on saké he wrestled a deer to the ground in a Japanese safari park, left the country in shame and then spent a week hiding out in Leeds to prevent anyone finding out - and he's always been good value for money, going so far as to email me lurid descriptions of his murder/rape/suicide fantasies that made me genuinely wonder whether I should report him to the authorities.

The thing is, despite all the above, we've remained quite good pals over the years and still meet up for a drink every now and then to discuss how our nemesiship is going. He's probably the best arch-nemesis anyone could ever have, so if he is reading this, cheers fella :)
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 12:23, Reply)
I don't have an arch nemesis
As I really am better than absolutely everyone.
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 12:06, 2 replies)
My Arch-Nemesis
was my first girlfriend who I now know to be a complete and utter cunt of the highest order. Sadistic and twisted, cruel and patronising. Evil, manipulative. Horrible. This isn't a kind of "she tore my heart out and ruined my life". Those kind of stories are for diaries and crap poems.

Instead I'll tell you how she liked to behave. The first six months of our time together was fine, a bit rocky since it was my first real relationship with someone, and I figured I'd have to take the highs with the lows. Then it gradually descended into just a real abusive horrible relationship in which I felt trapped. I mean, I was no 100% perfect boyfriend since I had no idea how being with someone was meant to go, especially at the age of 15/16. But conversely I don't remember doing anything henious in order to warrent these horrible episodes. One of the problems was that she was a year older than me and I was still in many ways a child. Unable to stay out too late because of parental worries, etc.

Some choice cuts were:

- Arguing about something, and then her initiating make-up sex, and at the point of climax, getting off me and standing over me, shouting and screaming, continuing the argument, leaving me spasmodically writhing in a fucking horrible intense mix of pain and pleasure.

- Flinging an entire pint over me at a club night I'd gone to just to give my demo tape to a local band. She threw the pint at me - totally unprovoked - then fled the club. Cue two hours of searching the city for her, only to find her hanging over the edge of the riverbank threatening to jump because it "was all my fault". I coaxed her back over the edge, which she responded to by smashing me across the face, letting my glasses fly and crack on the pavement (and then me doing a kind of "Daphne-from-Scooby-Doo-pat-the-floor-because-can't-see-anything" impression, as is often reminded to me by my friends and witnesses of the night). That night, because I was so confused as to what had happened, I did the worst thing and left my friends in Cardiff with no money or any way home so I could take my girlfriend home in the car. All the way home she pummelled shit out of me as I drove her to her house. (Similar thing happened in V festival in 2002, when she forced me to leave my friends in Staffordshire because she'd argued with her friend - my best mate's girlfriend.)

- Forcing me to try to get off with some strange guy at a club because she thought I was "bisexual but afraid to express it". When I told her I didn't want to, she threatened to leave me and spill all my secrets to friends and relatives (since I was younger and it was her who introduced me to drink and drugs mainly, she had a lot of shit she could spill to get me into a lot of shit with my family).

- Nearer the end of the relationship, I remember spending four hours on public transport to go visit her in university only to be delayed by half an hour because of train troubles. I got off at her stop, with a bouquet of flowers, which she took off me and stamped into the floor, giving me a huge torrent of shit about why I was so late and inconsiderate. She stormed off and we didn't talk for the whole weekend.

- Driving to university to see her for the weekend with her sister, to whom she told she'd fucked some guy the night before. When I got upset about this, she said "Don't be a fucking crybaby, it was just a fuck."

- Hearing her father had been caught with child porn on his PC, which meant he had all his computer equipment taken off him. Months later, he asked me to set up a new computer in his office, which I declined to do. When she heard this, she battered shit out of me for not supporting her father. (He got off all charged of child pornography possession, by the way.)

- Forcing me to leave her house after an argument, then lying underneath my car so I couldn't drive away, screaming at the neighbours about how she would kill herself and I'd be responsible.

There are many, many more instances which prove that she was a horrible person, but I am 100% convinced that I have repressed these memories just because they are so disgusting and horrible.

I can't express enough how much I felt trapped in this relationship. I didn't know how to end it, plus her endless shower of abuse and terror made me scared to leave. At the end, after three years of this, I tried my best to tell her it was over, but she would still come to my house and act like nothing had happened. She would not pay attention to the fact that I wanted to end it. I didn't know what to do.

So, I fucked her sister.

Plenty of times. When she was sleeping in the next room, too. I would fuck her, tell her I was leaving for a cigarette, then go and fuck her sister.

This carried on for a couple of months, then I moved away to university and started a new relationship with someone far far better. I went home on the Christmas holidays, having already told her on the phone that I was seeing someone else, and found her crumpled in a pile on the floor of her room. I told her it was definitely over for good. In her last-ditch attempt to keep me, she tore off my trousers and gave me a teary-eyed, desperate blowjob. I pushed her away and left, never saw her again.

I was told some months afterwards that she intended to sue me for giving her a cold (from stress), which turned into a chest infection, which turned into pneumonia, which - apparently - could have killed her with her bad asthma. Part of me wishes it had.

I'm told now she's engaged to someone in Manchester. The poor cunt.

Apologies for length (but her sister didn't complain).
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 11:31, 44 replies)
Jeremy Clarkson
It would be very easy for me to launch into a lengthy diatribe about how much I hate this man, how much he infuriates me and how much I want to smack him in his smug face with a shovel. Doing so, however, would simply mark him out as "someone who I find annoying," rather than a nemesis - I am possibly missing the precise meaning of the term, but in order to be my "nemesis" he must have some way of infuriating and frustrating me on a more direct level than by simply being an arrogant cuntflap.

Now, my general objection to the man is fairly obvious, and certainly not unique to me: he's one of a cohort of people who, for some inexplicable reason, have been given regular columns in national newspapers, in which they seem to have free rein to spout their opinions on whatever they choose. This cohort includes such fine, upstanding specimens as Melanie Philips, Jan Moir, Richard Littlejohn, and, of course, Jeremy. Many of you will recognise these names as regular peddlers of arrogant, ill-informed, often bigoted, frequently delusional bullshit.

Now I appreciate that Clarkson probably knows a lot about cars. Top Gear is probably a suitable environment for a man who clearly likes nothing better than to drive an unecessarily massive car, and preferably using it to run over some foxes and/or French people in order to assert some sense of great masculinity which I have to assume he cannot derive from his own genitalia. If I want to know about some gross, unwieldy, inefficient monstrosity that comes under the loose term "4x4" and can be made to sound really exciting if described in that bloody silly voice he always puts on when talking about a car, I might ask Jeremy.

If, however, I want to know about something other than cars, I probably wouldn't ask Jeremy. The man knows about cars and journalism. As evinced by various incidents over the last few years, he clearly doesn't know about online banking (how I laughed when he published his bank details in the paper and someone managed to hack into his account thusly). Somehow, of course, he felt he was in a position to describe the event which triggered this as a "big polaver over nothing."

Ditto climate change and the environment. Most scientists will tell you that there is a great incentive to stop burning fossil fuels, partly due to the emissions, and partly due to the fact that, at the rate we're going, we'll run out of them fairly soon and then we'll be a bit fucked. Scientists who, even if they don't work with these matters directly, must have read at least some of the peer-reviewed literature in order to understand how their work relates to these things. Many of them would say we ought to be worried.

Not Jeremy. No, he's spotted one or two articles in the national press which suggested certain elements of the changing climate might not be as bad as previously thought, and has decided that the whole thing is, once again, a "big polaver over nothing." No need to worry, folks, the scientists might be predicting doom and gloom but Jeremy reckons it's going to be fine. Well, thank god for that...

I'm ranting a bit now, and many of you are probably wondering how this makes Jeremy my nemesis. Surely, you might think, Melanie Philips is equally full of shit, and probably spouts more of it onto the page on a daily basis. You'd be right, of course, Jeremy is by no means the only offender, let alone the worst.

The reason he's my nemesis, rather than just "that twat who I wish would be banned from any and all written publication," is because, every so often, just when I really am frothing with rage at the insufferable image of the man, when my housemates are watching (another fucking repeat of) Top Gear, and when I feel I could not hate the man any more universally...the bastard says something funny. It's probably scripted, almost certainly not his own "wit" shining through, but it's enough to make me smirk, and in doing so, it softens the boiling rage with which I want to brutally assault the man.

It's not fair. I loathe the man, and I want my hatred to be complete and consistent, because the objectionable cockdonkey seems to diametrically oppose everything I stand for - and then the bastard makes me laugh, making a mockery of my irrational hatred, fettering and bridling an anger that was previously unfettered and unbridled. This doesn't stop him being a cunt. It just frustrates me.
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 11:22, 31 replies)
Look at this smug fucker. Sitting there like a cunt.

(, Tue 4 May 2010, 8:57, 6 replies)
My Arch-Nemesis
Back a year ago, I had a job as a trainee mason pavior for the local council(Newcastle if you must know), I was fucking loving it, until I was put on a site with DUN DUN DUNNNNNNNNN..... Big-nosed inbred fuck. This guy was a real tosser, I mean it, you wouldn't even piss on him if he was on fire , deliberately pissing me off just to see if I would "bite" (retaliate by shouting and getting pissed off and what not), the fucking roid head, gym fanatic nufter. Occasionally I did, throwing the odd shovel or two, but this was when I was getting to know "oneupsmanship" and how it was used, except in my case it was three-ups-manship to my pissy one. He would throw a scotch egg off my head, resulting in being called EGGHEAD, then, I was squirted with a water hose... "EGGHEAD WETLEG", then as I ate my more onion than usual onion salad, I burped, the smell of onions and death leaded to... "EGGHEAD WETLEG DEATH BREATH". After weeks of torment I thought, this is it. I began to plan, the night before my plan was carried out I found out the local bus routes from the site to my house and what time was closest to 11:30am (This is what time you finish if you put in for a half day holiday). Anyhoo... I popped into the local sainsburys just round the corner. I bought a pack of eggs, fresh prawns and OXO cubes.

11:00am - I picked up the key to the cabin which held our bags of work gear and food.

11:02am - Kettle boils, and proceed to crush every single OXO on his fruit salad and pasta,and drown the twunts food until an apple slice or two bobbed to the top and gasped for air. I then found some empty cable ties and took liberties on his bag.

11:10am - I pop back to the cabin to break 2 raw eggs and empty a whole bag of prawns in to each of his trainers. Threw his bag onto cabin roof(about 10ft high)

11:25am - Slipped on my trainers, took the 1 egg left and grasped it in my palm, waited until he turned away and smashed the egg over his gelled hair screaming "EGGHEAD"

11:26am - Sprinted like fuck 100m down the road, seriously, it was a run even Usain himself would've been proud of. Sharp right along the alley way with the poser cunt not fucking far away from me, think the russian chase scene in Rock'n'Rolla and you know what i'm talking about until I saw the number 40 bus slow right beside me as I stepped onto it. God himself couldn't of asked for better timing.
(, Tue 4 May 2010, 2:23, 6 replies)
Foiled again...
Curse you UnderDog!!


Dr. Simon Bar Sinister
(, Mon 3 May 2010, 23:28, Reply)
My arch-nemesis: Depression
Many of the stories on here tell of people having their happiness and well-being crushed by some fuckwit in a position of seniority to them at work; but what if that fuckwit lives inside you?

I've always been shy and lacking self-confidence, but for the past 5-or-so years, it's been exacerbated by depression. Not serious throw-yourself-out-of-a-fucking-window depression, you understand, more the type that drains you completely of energy and enthusiasm for everything, meanwhile reducing your sense of self-worth to absolute fucking zero. Just to add to the mix, you feel like a complete failure because of your inability to MTFU and deal with the minor stresses of life.

I'm lucky that my family are supportive, I've reduced my hours at work to lessen the pressure of long hours, and the happy pills take the edge off the lows, but I still wake up every morning wondering whether it will be a good or a bad day.

If my nemesis was external, at the very worst I could run away, but when the enemy is within, that's a little harder to do.

Apologies for complete absence of funneh but they reckon this sort of shit is cathartic. Who knows?

Insert length gag here.
(, Mon 3 May 2010, 22:29, 10 replies)

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