Just a simple thing...
It was only a day after taking my wife and new daughter home from the hospital (this was after a 24 hour labour that ended in an emergency caesarian and a four day stay) that we decided to venture out for a change of scene. We needed to pick up some baby stuff from John Lewis as Little Miss Fuckst1cks had turned out slightly on the small side and none of the clothes for newborns we had bought fitted.
We had finished our shopping and had headed up to the cafe to queue for coffee and cake. As I was paying, the store manager came over to us, took our tray and shopping bags and cleared us a table with easy pushchair access, set out our drinks and food on the table, and made sure we settled down OK. He also checked on us 15 minutes later to make sure we were OK and if we needed anything else.
So, to the average person this might not seem much, but to me who had spent the last few days running errands to and from the hospital, clearing up the house, fixing up the nursery, and dealing with well wishers, and Mrs. Fuckst1cks who had just had major abdominal surgery, no sleep for five nights and cracked nipples, the John Lewis manager had done the nicest thing by helping out two clueless and knackered new parents getting back to normality.
(Fucksticks, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 22:47, 4 replies)

My 18th
At my 18th birthday party, my mate bought a quarter, and put the lot in one, long spliff. It took four people sat side by side to roll it, and over an hour to smoke. I think it went round everyone at the party at least three times. That was pretty cool. Though really the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me is suck my dick. Unfortunately, my last girlfriend only did it once for me, in a whole bloody year, and you know what the most annoying thing about it was? It was the best blow job I've had. Bitch.
(tugger blah fucking blah, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 22:30, Reply)

This bloke shoved a chilli-covered vibrator up my ex's clunge.
Nice for me, but not for her. Revenge is sweet.
( idonthaveafunnynickname Drink-Aware? Sure. I'm aware I want another drink., Fri 3 Oct 2008, 22:21, 1 reply)

One of the nicest things that somebody's done
Was when I was assaulted. I was thrown into a thorn bush and kicked in by a bunch of guys, and my hearing aid was lost.

The next morning, a couple of coppers knocked on my door. They handed me my hearing aid, which was nice of them. But one of the coppers was called out, and he left first. According to the second copper, the first one had taken a shine to me and was so angry that somebody could beat a deaf girl up, he'd searched a thorn bush for three hours for it, and his arm was full of cuts from the fucker.

That guy didn't know me!
( Methylene Blue - electrohead, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 22:00, 1 reply)

Losing my virginity
She picked her scabs off first to make it smoother.
( enoughblueskyforsailorstrousers, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 21:58, Reply)

My girlfriend
The only woman in the world I can see myself with forever, the only person who gets my jokes, the only person I wanna fall asleep with at night, and wake up with in the morning, puts up with me.

She puts up with the fact I spend way too much time on B3ta, even asking what this week's challenge and QOTW are, she puts up with my obsession with retro games, she puts up with the collectible figures around my room, she puts up with my lack of style, my messy hair, my big belly, my stinky farts, she puts up with the fact that I have pictures of the top 100 video games pasted on my wall.

She turns a blind eye to the porn on my hard drive, she ignores my god-awful taste in music, she doesn't mind that sometimes, if she starts getting frisky while we are watching a film, it might take me a while to take my eyes off the screen.

I ask her why, and she says it's because she loves me. I think she is mad, but it is the nicest, greatest, most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me.
(bobman500 enjoys a grope as much as the next fella, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 21:41, 9 replies)

My mum
gave birth to me, i think that was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me....
(timewarper, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 21:10, 5 replies)

My housemates
have just done the nicest thing for me ever. They took me to hospital after I had an "accident" with gravy at work... My hand felt like it was on fire, and now it looks like there are tiny aliens trying to get out of my skin.... I love them for it though, and they made me some tea! :)
(timewarper, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 21:08, 4 replies)

No food, but some consolation
One cold February evening, hung over, unshaven and with flu, I have to go out to buy food. I walk a mile or so through the drizzle to the shop, finding it has just closed. I shake my fist at the door and turn to go. In front of me a young woman, pretty and a complete stranger, spreads her arms and gives me a long hug, explaining she had just arrived too late for the shop too, and was waiting for a bus home.
(pseudomorph, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 20:46, 5 replies)

Poetry
First, a little background: two years ago, I ended a five-year relationship. The man in question, who I will refer to as L, was brilliant - funny, smart, successful, in many ways I feel he might have been my soulmate. But there was a big age-gap, and eventually our differing opinions on what we were looking for out of life made our relationship untenable. I ended it and moved out and back in with my parents. For a while it was too difficult for us to see each other, and we had no contact for months, but after a while we realised that we meant too much to each other to cut each other out of our lives. We had to work very hard at it, but in time we managed to build a really good friendship. We would meet up on a fairly regular basis for dinner, and would laugh all night.

This continued until just a few months ago, when I decided to move to a different town, 200 miles away from where I had been living. The weekend before I moved, I went for dinner with friends, including L. We met up at a bar first, and I was presented with a scrapbook another friend had made me, with lots of photos and letters from all my lovely mates (which itself was very nearly the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me). Included in this scrapbook was a poem written by L.

Now, let me just say that L is NOT the poetry type. In fact, as far removed from the poetry type as you could get. But he'd sat down and written the most amazing poem, which told the story of our relationship from beginning to end. He mentioned everything: how we had got together, holidays, days out, nights out, arguments, even the day I lost my shoe in a swamp. Every little detail, all the small events that are unremarkable to outsiders but somehow are marker stones in a relationship, was included. I was, and remain, astounded by the sheer thoughtfulness of it and the effort he had gone to, and it remains a wonderful testament to how important we were to each other that he would do that for me.

I know that I broke his heart, and I know that for a long time he would have had me back if I had asked, but he let me go with good grace, never making me feel bad and encouraging every decision I made, even if it eventually meant moving so far away from him.

So, L, thank you. For the poem, for every nice thing you ever did for me, and for being simply one of the best people I have ever had the privilage of knowing. I feel lucky every day for having had you in my life.
(G-Lo, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 20:44, 1 reply)

Thank you
Oh boy, here goes... wasn't sure if I would really be able to do this QOTW justice. It's such an overwhelming subject for me to try and address. But I just found myself writing, and writing, and writing... because I want to send my eternal gratitude out into the universe.

Apologies in advance for length. Hell, nobody has to read it, it's just enough for me to know it's out there.


My relationship with control freak ex was destructive and bad right from the start. I was 17 and slightly damaged, and he was 37 when we got together. He was like nobody I'd ever come across, he was intelligent, insightful, thoughtful... But more than that he was pure logic, and to my young, conflicted self he was the answer to all my problems. He answered questions that I'd never managed to find answers to before. I believed he was The One. He took my low self esteem and self loathing and dissolved it by making me feel I was special, and amazing and perfect.

However. It was quickly established that this came with a price. It was conditional.
If I was "good" he rewarded me with the most amazing love in the world. If I didn't reach his impossible standard, I was punished with abuse, rejection, scorn, contempt - in short being made to feel like the worst and most useless person who ever lived. Some examples: Not giving him instant responses. Letting any man take the impression that I fancied them (not just giving impressions, but anything which did not actively discourage it - so basically I had to be unfriendly to every male I encountered, whether I knew them or not). Giving someone else their cup of tea before him. Taping over a video I thought he'd finished with. Not 'communicating properly'. Not doing what he told me to do no matter how uncomfortable I was with it - and he made it my responsibility to do EVERYTHING from answering the phone, to managing our money, to dealing with people: friends, acquaintances, strangers, enemies - mostly to make people enemies, such was his wont. Voicing any opinions of my own which I dared to have that conflicted with his. The list goes on.

He dumped me frequently for such offences as these, making me beg and promise to change... usually he would tell me I had two minutes to convince him to take me back, and if I didn't manage it I was full of shit and worthless. Despite the "two minute" rule these situations would last hours, sometimes days. Somehow I always managed it eventually, but it was a game with love as the prize and rejection the cost of failure, for which he had made the rules, and I didn't understand them... I would end up utterly wrung out, my mind and body disintegrating.

Basically, he had all the power and I had all the responsibility. His manipulative mind games made me uneasy but I had to convince myself of his absolute infallibility, or I would be having "bad thoughts" which would cause me to collapse in fear and panic. If I even had so much as half a thought I knew he would disapprove of I had panic attacks so severe I threw up. As I was terrified of him sometimes I would lie to avoid his wrath... which led to further panic attacks, and eventually full blown neuroses. I had to police every single thing I said, did or thought. I had to convince myself of all sorts of things, and I had to do it well. I could not harbour resentment. He did a comprehensive job of brainwashing me. In fact, no, he was more clever than that - he actually managed to get me to brainwash myself.

I couldn't work (and he didn't work either) so spent all my time in the house with him.
My life with him was miserable. It made me ill, mentally and physically. I couldn't eat and was very underweight. I had few friends, and certainly none who I shared my inner turmoil with. My family were unaware of the extent of the destructiveness of the situation, but he convinced me they were bad people too, and that I should cut them from my life.

As anyone who has ever been brought up in a strict religion - say, the Jehovah's Witnesses - will tell you, you reach a point where you have keep on believing what you have always believed, because you have to keep going. To admit to yourself the scale of the wrongness would destroy your whole life, and would cause you to realise the magnitude of your wasted self and soul. But sometimes, you just become more and more unstable until the truth comes bursting out of you like an alien out of John Hurt.


So this story has a happy ending. A happy beginning, in fact. After 12 years I left him.


During the split he put me through months of mental and emotional torture, cumlinating in my having a massive mental breakdown... and yet somehow part of me that I didn't know I possessed got me through it. I got through the overwhelming pressure he put me under, the manipulation, the threats to kill himself, the times he held me hostage to get me to change my mind, the times he fought me to stop me getting away from him, his boot in my face when I went for the phone to try and call the police... I stuck it out. There were times when I was convinced suicide was the only escape from the trap I was in. Times when doing things to feel physical pain was the only way to escape the pain in my head. Times when my brain packed up completely and stopped functioning, short circuiting and making me twitch and flinch at random. I knew it was the toughest thing I would ever have to do, and doing it destroyed me, but I did it.


The nicest things anyone has ever done for me are as follows...

My family:
For being cool enough to let me go in the first place when I was a headstrong teenager, knowing that if they tried to convince me he was bad I would just dig my heels in and it would cause rifts between us.
For being there with unconditional love and support when I finally found the courage to leave him.
My mum for her pragmatism, for instantly taking me in when he threw me out of the house, making sure I was eating proper meals for the first time in years, and going to bed at sensible times, giving me a copy of How To Mend Your Broken Heart and paying for me to have nine months of counselling.
My stepdad, for his acceptance when he came home to find I was staying for an unspecified amount of time, and for his practical advice and good humour for the following three months of sharing his home with me.
My brothers for forgiving me for falling out with them at CF ex's bidding and shutting them out for four years, and for putting their time and energy into me to help me learn what it feels like to be a normal person. My best friends.

Not one of them ever judged me or said "I told you so".

My boss:
For her empathy and compassion. For her tolerance of my fuckedupedness while at work, not firing me when I was late because I had been prevented from leaving the house by CF ex or had crashed my car because I was too exhausted to drive, or when I forgot to pass messages on because my head was broken. And for her guidance and encouragement towards emotional and spiritual health.

My new ex, the one who has proposed to marry me on my 40th birthday despite our current separation:
For the little extras he gave me when I started going into his coffee shop for lunch, when he realised I didn't have much money.
For his friendship, which made me feel like I was a worthwhile and likeable person.
For his understanding of my neuroses, including my requests that we would never make promises to each other, and my aversion to the word "perfect", whereupon he coined the word "perfucked" to describe me.
For showing me what love TRULY is, and thus achieving the only thing that nine months of otherwise outstanding counselling could not. When I was not sure I deserved his love, he said to me:

"Fuck deserving. Deserving love implies that you can be undeserving of love. Well my love doesn't work like that - you don't have to earn it, it's a gift, I am giving it of my own free will, you can do what you want with it, but you can't give it back because I won't accept it. It's yours now, unconditionally."

So now, at the age of 32, I feel like I have been born again (scuse the god-awful cliche). Every day I am thankful that I've been given a second chance to live my life. I still feel unworthy but so, so lucky to have the people who helped me... and now I have to stop writing because I can't see for tears.
( warmfuzzies Isn't here, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 20:32, 23 replies)

At the risk of him reading this...
it would have to be Mr Trouser's proposal. He went to a_lot of trouble to get the ring made, get it delivered to where we were staying on holiday and keep it all a total secret from me! I was totally stunned and couldn't talk for about a minute which, for me, is quite an achievement!

I try to do lots of little nice things for people, rather than doing any major big ones, but my sound employment advice is usually a favourite!
( Mrs Trouser is probably annoying Dave just by being here on, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 20:24, 1 reply)

the nicest thing
The nicest thing that anyone ever did for me was done by my wife and B3TA. She's foreign and doesn't speak English. we were lying in bed, post coitus, and having one of those little chats. I forget what prompted it, but she finally asked me, "how do you say I hate you in English?" I'm not sure why, but I guess it must be my prolonged exposure to B3TA, I answered her, "Fuck me in the arse."

She practiced the phrase several times. "Fook mi en arse," "fook mai arse," "Yoo fooking mai arse," etc.

Then she asked what it really meant, and I told her.

She said, (this is a translation) "what are you waiting for?"

This has lead to continued wedded bliss. Thank you, B3TA!
(nezumi, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 20:16, 6 replies)

my cat
gives the gift of fluffy fatness :)
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 20:02, 8 replies)

Best. birthday. ever.
On the Friday before my 21st birthday (the Saturday), 6 of my friends let me know that I needed to pack a bag after work for a weekend and that they'd pick me up that evening. I packed and they turned up with a mini-van thing for a mystery trip. After a couple of hours driving from the big smoke, it looked like we were heading for Bath.
When we arrived, they had rented a 7 bedroom house with en-suite bathrooms, a jacuzzi in the back garden, a fully stocked booze fridge and food everywhere. Then they blindfolded me and took me down to the basement which had been filled with balloons and had a pinata. Then we proceeded to get drunk for three days, laugh x a billion and have the best 21st birthday I could have ever had. Just thinking about it now makes me do a massive happyface.
(dolores_haze, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 19:42, Reply)

I suppose I should continue the story...
One of the first posts I made in here, one which surprisingly (to me) ended up on the Best Of page, was a rather painful story of being sexually assaulted and hurt. Some here expressed surprise that I was willing to have sex after that. So now I'll give thanks to those who helped heal me.

Dana- sweet little thing that she was, she could tell from the first time she met me that there was something odd about me. She tells me that I was nice, polite and sweet, but skittish- when she put her hand on my arm I jumped as though stung. But she was kind and patient, and after a time took the lead and kissed me. It was a good beginning. We ended up being good friends for a time, but nothing more. Still, she was very sweet to me.

Kathleen- taller, curly brown hair and blue eyes. She too was patient about me being so jumpy, and eventually we ended back at hers. The first time, the sex was a bit awkward as I flinched when she would touch my arse or reach for my belt to undo it, but after a few times I was able to relax and enjoy it. Too bad her goals and mine were different- I was not the fatherly type. But still, she broke the ice for me and allowed me to get back in the saddle, so to speak.

Monica- sweet, uninhibited, a bit wild and kinky. She too helped to bring me out of my shell a bit. Long dark hair that she loved for me to pull (gently) during sex. She also loved going down, and got me comfortable with that as well. Again, our lives were sadly going in different directions, but for a few weeks it was wonderful.

And finally, Jan. It was she who finally got me to open my heart a bit, to speak of what had been done to me. She held me as I cried, really wept, for the first time in a year. She took care of me when I was at her little cottage in the country, and I did the same for her in my flat- but mostly I was in her place. I've written about her before as well. It ended very sadly, but we had a good run together. I still sometimes wonder what would have happened if we had stayed together... but in any case, I was much closer to being whole again thanks to her.

I know that none of them read this site- or at least if they do, they have not contacted me. But even so, I'd like to express my eternal gratitude to them all for healing me as gently as they did. I know that I was more than a little challenging, but each of these wonderful women did their best with me.

Thank you...
(Shimrod, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 19:14, 6 replies)

This may sound a bit odd
but stick with it - all will become clear.

The nice thing I did for other people? I told a long standing friend that I never wanted to see her again. We'd been friends since the first day of high school and this was when I was 25.

On that fateful first day of high school, P and I made friends in registration (or homeroom as we called it) by dint of being seated beside each other. The teacher was a bit OCD and made us all sit in alphabetical order, regardless of whether or not we knew each other. We were told that we had to sit in the same place every morning for the next year, so I reckoned I may as well make friends. Better than sitting in silence every morning, right?

I did notice that when the first break came around and I headed off to meet up with my primary school friends, she tagged along. I had kind of expected her to meet up with her primary school friends, but didn't exactly give the matter any deep thought. Over the next few weeks, she got to know all my friends. Fair enough. I never met a single one of hers. The adult me would wonder why, but at 12 I never considered it. Some weeks later, one of the girls asked me why I'd described her new hairstyle as "horrendous". I hadn't said any such thing, and told her so. We nearly fell out. It felt a bit odd. Soon after, another friend asked why I'd said something nasty about her brother (who was the most obviously gay 14 year old I'd ever seen, but who I liked). Again, I denied it, and again avoided a fall out. The pattern was repeated many times, and thick little sod that I was, I never worked out where all this was coming from.

I drifted away from my primary friends to a new group in second year, and P stayed put with the old bunch. A few months down the line, I had a bit of a revelation regarding these new "friends" and distanced myself. The old gang seemed glad to have me back, and all was well. There were no more "why did you say such-and-such" conversations and I forgot all about it.

The years passed, and we all left school. Some went to Uni, most went straight into work. One or two headed for the dole queue (this was the 80's, it wasn't exactly unusual). I kept in touch with the ones I liked best, as you do, and somehow P was one of them. I made new friends at work, and some nights out ended up with both groups meeting up. At far too many of these, I would end up denying I'd said something nasty about someone. Still the penny didn't drop. I'm not always the sharpest tool in the box, and am far too willing to see the good in people.

Finally, I worked it out. A girl I've been friends with since primary school asked me at my "leaving work to have a baby" night out, why I'd said I wished I'd never asked her. I stopped dead, and asked who'd said that. P had said that, she said. In strictest confidence, and only because "If it was me she said that about, I'd want to know." It dawned on me (belatedly) that every time P was on a night out, I'd end up denying something.

Well, I may not be the sharpest tool in the box, but by god I've got a temper. I stormed over to P and told her in no uncertain terms that the game was over. This was my night out and I didn't want anyone hanging around who was lying about me behind me back. I blame the hormones, but I actually threatened her with extreme violence if she didn't leave rapidly. She left, rapidly.

I then had the most horrendous half hour as all these friends took turns to recall horrible things she'd said about me, lies she'd told to them and me, and I'd been oblivious. Not one single friend of mine had liked the girl, and when I stopped and thought about it, neither did I. All my friends had been tolerating her because they thought she and I were close. I'd tolerated her because I thought the others liked her. I'd done us all the most tremendous favour, however late in the day, by finally seeing through her.

We all raised a glass to "Never seeing P again in this lifetime" although mine was fresh orange and lemonade. In a pint glass, for that extra touch of ladylike class.

Fast forward several years, and I put my name on Friends Reunited. God knows why. Anyway, she sent me a message via the site, and I replied, also via the site. She got two words.

Fuck off

Like I said, I may not be the brightest star in the sky, but when I bear a grudge, I bear it forever. Besides which, I've still got the same friends and they'd lynch me if I brought her back into the fold.
(TheWeeWitch hasn't been here much recently .., Fri 3 Oct 2008, 19:09, 3 replies)

She...
...said yes :)
(Fleximus Rex briefly gave up lurking on, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 18:54, 2 replies)

knights of the road
i've already posted a story about my wonderful mates, but this is about the kindness of strangers.

about 10 years ago, i was hanging around with 2 girls i'd known from school. friday and saturday nights, we'd take off to a small local nightclub. this club was owned by my parents' boss, so i was well-known to all the staff. there was a private bar upstairs, where the staff could go for a quiet drink after the club shut. i very often went up there with them. my mates would generally go home with whoever they could drag back to their house, safe in the knowledge that i would get a lift from one of the staff.
new year's eve rolled around and, once again, we were at the club. at the end of the night, i said goodbye to my friends and headed towards the stairs, only to find that the upstairs bar was closed that night. realising that my mates had the last of the kitty and i was now penniless, pissed and about 7 miles from home, i started to panic. the club was shutting, the staff were all heading into town, what could i do? start walking, of course.
i'm hardly the most fit and agile of people, so a 7-mile walk seemed like a 70-mile trudge. i felt utterly sorry for myself.
after about 2 miles, i was exhausted and very cold. i was also(due to being pissed) starting to long for my ex boyfriend. sitting down on a handy wall, i buried my face into some railings and began to sob.
it must have been about 10 minutes later when i heard a beep. i prised my head from the railings and turned around to see who was beeping. it was a large removals van, out of which were climbing 2 men, one quite young and the other in his mid-sixties. they asked me what the matter was and, between drunken, self-pitying sobs, i told them. they immediately offered to give me a lift home, which i gratefully accepted.

kids! NEVER accept lifts from strangers! better to be safe than sodomised!

they drove me all the way home, even driving the wrong way down a one-way street in order to drop me off right at my door. they gave me cigarettes and coffee from their thermos, they were true gentlemen.
it wasn't until i got into the house and looked in a mirror that i realised the railings i had been cosying up to had been coated with vandal grease, which had given my entire face delightful convict stripes, which were offset by my smudged lipstick and the mascara that was now sprinting down my cheeks.
so, to the two men who came to the aid of a drunken, distressed, dishevelled, convict-striped, insane-looking woman on new year's eve/day about 10 years ago, you have my eternal thanks.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 18:21, 4 replies)

Merith Gram is one amazing lady
She of www.octopuspie.com fame was quite possibly one of the coolest people at the UK webcomix thing 2008. (some of the other artists could of fitted nicely in to the never meet your heroes QTOW). Me and a mate chatted to her about this and that for half an hour. She was happy to be here even though her $200 became £85 in the airport. She even made the point of doing a custom signature her book, she was doing one picture for all of them but took the time to do a custom doodle for me.

Thanks Meridith! She restored my faith in internet people.
( willenium Fist bump for verification, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 18:17, 1 reply)

A few years back
my best mate and I got involved in a rather unfortunate scrap outside our local pub with what can only be described as a gang of local neds.

It had been happy hour all night, doubles for the price of a single, and this led to a lot of merry scottish people falling down drunk come closing time. I'm not the sort of person who gets into fights and neither is my mate, but we were drunk, a local twat started on my friend, blows were traded and the next thing we know there's twelve of them on us. I escaped with concussion, one eye swollen shut, a perfect footprint on the top of my head, masses of cuts and bruises and two staples in the back of my bonce. My mate got taken to hospital by ambulance, I was taken in later when my sister in law found me insensible in a blood soaked bed.

However, we can always rely on the kindness of strangers. My then wife's uncle had just started a delivery job for a local butchers, and had answered his phone while in the van to be told of what had happened to me and my friend. His driver, who he had only met that day, asked what was wrong, and when he was told, pulled a SAWN OFF FRIGGING SHOTGUN out from under his seat and said, calmly, "where do they live?"

Yes. There are some very unhinged people in the world, but erm, I suppose it's the thought that counts.

They all apologised to me a year later, by the way. I don't think any shotguns were required.
( baw__bag contains traces of nuts on, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 17:50, 2 replies)

Potroast, but JTW's post made me want to bring it up.
I never knew my dad growing up, met him for the first time 4 years ago. He flew to New York from London, I flew from California.
We met, and had an amazing time. My whole life became "complete" when I met him.
Nobody has ever made me feel so amazing as when, on our last night when we parted, he kissed me on the forehead and said "I'm proud to have a daughter like you".

Yeah, can't get nicer than that, IMHO.
( Batshitmentalist is sane for once, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 17:46, Reply)

It's funny that this QOTW should come up...
I'll post this on behalf of those concerned, as it's pretty damn unlikely that they hang around here.

For a number of years (10+), I've been a regular lurker in the car newsgroups on Usenet. Over the years, the crowd on there has remained pretty consistent. I've never met any of them in real life, but I feel like I know them all.

One of the longest-serving posters, a lad by the name of Dan, has struggled with cancer for the last few years, and he's been through a pretty rough time with it from what I can tell. He doesn't like talking about it, and never brings it up unless he's prompted to.

Like everone else on there, he's a bit of a car nut, and owns a very nice RenaultSport Clio R27. However, shortly after he bought it, his cancer was diagnosed as being terminal. A few weeks ago, the cancer spread to such an extent that he can no longer drive. As Dan is also a member of and a regular poster on a Clio messageboard, he put the car up for sale asking if anyone was interested, not mentioning the exact circumstances behind it - just that he was selling it due to illness. Today, he made the following post on Usenet:

****
There is a thread on ClioSport, started by me. A few people had been asking why the R27 had to go etc, and what was I ill with. Then one evening, I was feeling really down, so I thought, fuck it, I'll get it all out in words, and tell them. Felt really good to vent it all to what felt like a 'someone' to be honest.

The response over the past few weeks has been massive, 285 replies (inc a few from me answering/thanking people) and maybe 50 private messages, wishing me well, and saying 100% nice things and it's felt like I've had load of extra friends routing for me really almost! This was amazing, the way the club pulled round, and some of the fantastic offers of help and even a £300 Red Letter Day (which I couldn't, and wouldn't accept of course - although I have accepted a free Mug from the site admin haha!).

So, as if that wasn't enough (which it was many times over in my book), a young lad, can't have had a lot of money (has a 1.4 Clio), won £30k on the National Lottery Daily Play, then he proceeded, he said because of that thread and how lucky he felt, especially with there being some very sad stories in there from other people as well, to donate £10k, split between 3 cancer charities and one local (to him) hospice.

I just couldn't really think of words to reply for ages, I felt good for inspiring him, but obviously it was 100% him, I didn't suggest it or anything. So there you go, young lad with a 1.4 Clio, with a huge sound system (describes his car as excessively loud!) in, who you'd probably label as a worthless chav if you saw him driving around, along with all the replys, 100% restored my faith that there are still quite a few nice people left in the world :-) Even those who you'd least expect...

*****

Brought a tear to my eye, it did.
( rubberduck should only be used after consulting with your GP, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 17:40, 1 reply)

Revenge/Avenged
My mate Tim and his brother beat the shite out of a group of pikey cunts who had previously put myself and a friend in hospital for fuck all reason.I feel this deserves mentioning as the revenge beating occured in the local burgerking on a saturday afternoon when the place was full of parents and kids from a nearby swimming pool,though thankfully the manager just handed over their order and asked them politely to leave.Suffice to say the pikeys never bothered us again and i know who some of my true mates are.Cheers Crazy Tim!!
(yob soddoth happiness is a Dane called Hamlet?, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 17:19, 3 replies)

short and sweet
like a dwarf dipped in honey

When my two best friends decided to get married they asked me to be an usher, even though they had tonnes of family members to pick from.
(Halfy By light alone, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 17:18, Reply)

Yes, I accept charity
The nicest thing anyone has ever done for me has got to be pretty much everything my friend Catherine has ever done for me. When I was training to be a midwife I met Catherine- we were in different years but same hospital and we were pretty much instant friends. I didn't really have any other friends in the town and I spent so much time round at hers with her and her family. She and her then-husband gave me a job at their restaurant and many lovely evenings and weekends, dinners and even a couple of trips away. She lent me the money for my flat deposit when money was tight.

Then I was reassessed for my student loan and bursary and awarded a whole £1400 for a YEAR. That and I was diagnosed with ME so couldn't work on top of my course. I was ill, depressed, away from home, struggling to stay afloat with uni and placement and could not even afford to drop out of uni as I was too poor to defer! And the contract on the house I was in ran out on 8th August; a month and a half before my course finished. I was penniless, in a hell of a lot of debt and now homeless.

Catherine insisted I stay with her and her family, rent and board free. In return I helped out with the kids and generally was an extra pair of hands but it wasn't enough and I don't think I will ever be able to convey how grateful I am for all that she did for me during a spectacularly poor time of my life, given that she effectively saved my career.

Thank you, Catherine- and you know you can ask for anything, any time. One day I'll find something big enough that I feel I've paid you back!
(Clarabelle is reverting to type on, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 17:07, Reply)

I always hold doors open for people
but there comes a point sometimes when there is a bit of distance between the person walking to the door. so i think do i keep holiding the door for another 5 seconds and risk making me look a tit or do i quickly slam it shut.
(yousatonmybiscuits liberty city has the worst cab drivers, Fri 3 Oct 2008, 16:54, 7 replies)

I've been thinking long and hard about this
And in all honesty, my life has been a bit streetcar, if you think about it. Very much dependent on the kindness of strangers. And thinking about it all, I find it very difficult to actually pick just the one thing to choose. But the most recent example I can think of is Nigel, my new landlord.

Time for a bit of a backstory here, I think. I needed to move out of my previous place, it's not that we didn't get on, but the person I was living in was moving on as well, so time for me to move on. So, onto Gumtree I hopped, and started looking round. Some of the flats I looked at were truly grim- little better than student digs at full market rates. They were discarded quicker than a free upgrade to Windows Vista. So, more looking. Enter Nigel.

I found his ad, emailed, set up a viewing, and he passed the first test of a prospective tenant with flying colours. That is he picked me up from my place of work to look at his house, made me a cup of tea, and then gave me a lift back to town so I could get the train all the easier. Like I say, flying colours. Obviously a bloke worth paying rent to.

So, agreements are made, papers are signed, and it comes up to the moving day. I was having trouble hiring a van, on account of not having a valid driving license. Hey, not all people over the age of 20 can drive, you know? Anyway. Nigel, the absolute legend that he is, hired a van, drove down to where I was living at the time, and then helped me pack my stuff into the van, drove me up to the new house, helped me unload, take it upstairs, and then helped me set up my bed. And then, to top it off, sorted me out with a cracking Chinese takeout (at his cost), gave me beer and sold me some cigs at cheap rate to make sure I didn't spend too much in the first month. And clued me in about a job which is less work and more pay.

You couldn't ask for a better landlord. So Nigel, I salute you.
( jim_bob can herd cats., Fri 3 Oct 2008, 16:53, 3 replies)