there's nowt as queer as folk
One of my ex-boyfriends broke up with me by telling me he was gay. I thought it was the feeblest, most made-up excuse for dumping someone, ever.

He has a nice boyfriend of his own now. I put him off women for life. Go me!

( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:54, 23 replies)

With one ex-girlfriend I did the following out of desparation...
1) faked an entire stag weekend trip to Ireland so I could sit at home instead of seeing my ex. Even faked phone conversations to airlines. I then got my mate Alan to tell her this. Didn't work.
2) Danced with friends of my ex of whom I knew she was jealous, because I knew one of her bitchy friends would tell her and I'd get dumped. Didn't work.
3) Ignored my ex for a whole week straight. Didn't work.
4) Told my ex that phoning her was less important to me than getting drunk. Didn't work.
5) Told my ex that I found three of her friends attractive, and that if I wasn't dating her I'd probably date one particular one of them. She dumped her friends rather than me. Didn't work.
6) TOLD HER SHE LOOKED FAT. Didn't work.
7) Missed our "fixing our relationship" date to watch the rugby in a pub. Didn't work.

8) Eventually she dumped me when I told her I didn't believe in God. Kinda stung that she had put up with me being a total cnut provided I shared her religious views, but heaven forbid I should not believe in fairytales! That's a dumpable offence!
(The Oscillating Gibbon is eating curried squid, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:53, 3 replies)

Similar to crackhouseceilidhband's non-hinting hints:
I don't think I got the message until far too late.
Psychobitch from hell
:(
edit - oddly enough... it's a repost.
(tweebianmonkey Should be known as Widget, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:52, 6 replies)

To be honest
My face, sense of humour and personality tend to solve this quandry all by themselves.

Kidding, just have nothing to answer on this as im rubbish at relationships. Still the current one is 5 weeks and counting whoop whoop!
(Halfy By light alone, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:52, Reply)

I personally
have no tales for this week, as I get dumped without trying - regularly.

This one is from my brother.

At the age of 15 (or something) he had just got his first serious girlfriend, through a blind date from one of his friends (who also got his, but not so blind, on the same night). Things went well for the first couple of months, until school broke for the summer.

A group of girls joined our usual group of guys (usual reasons, one or more of them liked any number of us at any time, the rest were just there), and one of them took a real liking to my brother. He would always be on the phone to his gf, but would be flirting like hell with this other girl. He told her that he wouldn't cheat on his girl with her, that wasn't who he was - but he did say that when he was finished with her, he would go with her after.

So spent a couple of weeks of ignoring phone calls, poor answers when he did answer, and general all round dickness.

He finally succeeded one night, by shouting to her down the phone "I'M SICK OF YOUR FUCKING GAMES" - to which came the reply (which we all heard, as he put it on speaker), "WELL FINE, FUCK OFF, YOU WERE SHITE ANYWAY".

Oh how we laughed.

Ironically, the reason he gave for not being with her from the beginning (I don't cheat), was the very same reason they broke up - he pulled another girl at a party he was at one night, while entering his now almost-permanent drunken state.


Apparently he apologises profusely for length
(bamboozled Can hear you getting fatter, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:49, Reply)

slight amendment
Despite my previous post detailing how phenomenally right-on I am (*snort*), I should admit that when I was younger - maybe 22 or 23 - I did once stay with someone an entire summer because I felt sorry for him, even though I wanted to be with someone else and I felt like a paedophile when I was in bed with him because he was smaller and more delicate than me.

I no longer do guilt as a reason to stay with someone.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:45, 1 reply)

Fly drive
Three years in and with no end to the relationship in sight, I ran her over with the car and moved to America.

Job done.

Cut to 15 years later, and she popped up on Facebook !!!!! Damn these internets :(
(ThisAndThatAndThat AndThatAndT'Other, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:33, 1 reply)

For once, when she was wittering on
about her colleagues, telling me in mind-numbing detail about the new wallpaper they had chosen or how they had potty-trained their children, and she realised my attention span had ceased many, many, minutes ago, and so asked the pointless question (for surely any adult can pick up on the numerous non-verbal signals that indicate that your listener is frankly not interested any more) "am I boring you ?", I answered yes.

And even that was not enough. And so, I had to try again. And again. And again to let her know, lovely but mad thing that she was, that she bored the pants off me.

And finally I had to do the unforgivable and tell her that the sex was pants.

In total, it took three or maybe four sessions to let her know that it wasn't working for me. Sessions which were like stripping the gloss off my soul. Her inability to comprehend the message was such that I felt like employing flow-charts to put the message across. And every moment spent doing it was pure torture.

I should have just shagged her sister like I wanted to; possibly that would have imparted the message quicker and given me some pleasure in the process.

Apologies for length (of opening sentence)
( I_Was_Mordred, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:32, 1 reply)

I doubt she'll be giving me any more trouble
Now that she's in the back of my freezer.
(tarbin tarbis, tarbit, tarbamus, tarbimus, tarbant, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:27, 3 replies)

Abject failure
"You know that girl I've been seeing?"

"Yeah, what about her?"

"God she's a bit of a dog. An' I didn't realise what a complete bunny-boiler she is too. And Ker-ist, don't get me started on her family."

And so, I went round all my friends, family and colleagues, in the hope that she might get the message and leave me alone.

We've been married for seventeen years now, and we agreed never speak of this thing, ever again. Except in every single argument we have, obviously.

Sorry, love. No, really.
( Scaryduck LIKES EGG, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:23, Reply)

I had to move!
Was seeing a girl in Watford and decided it wasn't my cup of tea so told her we'd go our separate ways. She cried etc etc.

Next day she phoned my flat... and kept phoning, and writing and seemed somehow to not want to get the message.

So I moved house.

After I got the phone connected a week or so later she phoned the new place (WTF!?) and I realised that BT were a bunch of twunts who would tell an axe murderer where to buy shiny axes from etc.
She then invited me to her birthday party (!?!?) so I took another girl with me, that seemed to get the message accross!
(golddust QOTW now revolves around being a cunt, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:19, Reply)

Faked death
There was this girl who just wouldn't get the message so I answered the phone pretending to be my dad and told her that I'd gone out to Iraq (1991) and been killed. Possibly the cruelest thing I've done.
(Fles is a man amongst gods., Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:13, 2 replies)

There once was a girl
I went to school with her, she was the year above me. We were friends. We flirted (in that kind of shit way that only socially maladjusted teenage boys can). And on occasion we kissed at parties (in the crazy tongue swirling way that only teenage boys can do).

We went to different colleges, but we stayed in touch. I invited her to my 17th Birthday party, we kissed. And then I lost my virginity to her worst enemy from school.

We headed off to Uni, I arranged to go to Bath and meet her once. I got the train all the way to Bath, but had lost her mobile number and didn't know where she lived. So I left her an e-mail telling her to meet me at the station. But she didn't get it until too late, so I had to get the last train home again.

Then, in the summer of first year at uni we almost slept together (I was far, far too drunk, and so was she). She was worried about me, I was going through something of a breakdown at the time. She came to visit me at Uni, we slept together, finally.

We stayed in touch, but nothing else happened until I finished Uni. We started meeting up and going to the pub or cinema, she lived in a disgusting little bedsit and we normally ended up there. But I always felt incredibly guilty that I was basically using her, and I felt even worse that she was completely happy with this fact.

I tried telling her that I didn't want to keep sleeping with her if it wasn't going to lead to anything more, and I didn't want it to lead to anything more.

She agreed. And then practically begged me to come back to hers.

I went around the world for three months. We didn't stay in touch.

I got back home. She contacted me. We went to the pub, we ended up back at hers. I felt bad. It happened again the next week. I told her it was finally over and I just couldn't handle treating her like that. She agreed and said we should be friends (but she said that every time I tried to end it).

I returned some stuff she had leant me. She got angry with me because I had parked outside, left the engine running and run up to the front door to give it to her. She sent me a rude text messaage.

A couple of days later she sent me another message asking if I wanted to go out that weekend. I replied in the negative and said it would be best if we just didn't see each other again. She repeated the assertion that we could be friends.

I had to point out that no, there was no way we could just be friends, I was far too weak (and i'm not proud of this) not to go back to sleeping with her once I'd had a few, so no we couldn't be friends, and when I said we shouldn't "see" each other, I meant that we should not ever be in the same room together.

I think at that point she finally took the hint.

I went to live in Australia for a year.
( Bazongaloid, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:12, 6 replies)

I told a girl I didn't want to go out with her...
At uni, a girl who I had the misfortune of being drunk with and pulling, big mistake, asked me out in the kebab shop later that evening. I told her no. She asked again. I told her no. This went on for a while until I eventually caved, thinking, "well it's about to be the Easter holidays, I'll dump her without ever having seen her."

This was all well and good, and I got on the train the next morning home. A week of her texting, and me replying sporadically and ignoring her phone calls, I was thinking I was doing an ace job of putting her off me.

One evening, I did happen to answer her call, the conversation went something like this:
Her “What are you up to?"
Me “nothing much, working tonight, got tomorrow off, working the day after."
Her “That’s good; I've booked a train to see you tomorrow!"
Me"..."
Her ”hello?"
me"...Err, that sounds... nice..."
Hang up.
Me "Fuckbeans..."

The next day, she arrived, and I showed her round my home city (Oxford), doing my best to not give off 'I fancy you' vibes. These consisted of:
Not touching her
Answering her very abruptly
Buying a drink and not offering her one
This list is by no means exhaustive!

Anyway, come the evening, I take her to my place of work, in the hope that if we were surrounded by friends, then she wouldn't be able to get her lady claws into me. This worked, and I eventually had to take her to her train.

"Yay!" I think, "I have finally gotten rid of her"

Until I get a phone call ten minutes later, "The train you put me on is delayed, and I have to come back, which will be too late for the last train. Can I stay at yours?"

Of course, being a gent, I say this is fine, I don't want to leave a girl stranded in an unfamiliar city, no matter how little I want to go out with her. So I go and pick her up, and take her back to my house, where a couple of friends are waiting to laugh at me. The plan was to get her drunk so she passed out, and I didn't have to talk to her anymore. The plan worked a charm, and the next day I carted her off to the train station and got her on the correct train.

A few texts about how she enjoyed herself later, and I feel pretty pissed off, she should have hated it!

Then, one night I get a text.

Her “this isn't really working as well as it used to, is it?"
Me “not really, although, I never really thought it was working"
Her “well you could have said something earlier; anyway, it means I can make it official with someone here at home."

I left it at that. But it did make me feel slightly aggrieved, that while I was doing my best chauvinist pig routine, to get myself dumped, she was cheating on me!

The Bitch!

Length? About two weeks, sadly, at the time my longest ever relationship, even though I spent the whole time trying to get dumped...
(The Kwyjibo A big, dumb, balding North American ape., Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:09, 4 replies)

I feel horrible
I had been going out with a girl for a couple of years and I decided that I had enough. Only I was too much of a chicken-shit to actually say it.

So I moved to England. And when she decided to come with me ....

I moved back again a couple of weeks later ....


And she came with me again =/ So I agreed to move about 60 miles away, and then changed my mind after paying deposits etc, and stayed at home paying rent for this place 60 miles away until I finally got the balls to do it a few weeks later.

me === coward.
(oeb, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:08, Reply)

Smothered myself in paprika and laxative.
Then told my cannibal girlfriend I'd been sleeping with her best mate.
( Boss Keloid Got your mother's maiden name tattooed on my arm, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 11:05, 2 replies)

Well...
...I jumped out of the plane.

Instead of getting dumped out by the skydiving instructor, that is.
(FleetlordVT, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:59, Reply)

My hint is: don't hint
I don't even know if I have any decent stories for this week.

When it isn't working I say: "Look, it isn't working, can it be made better? No? Okay, let's call it all off".

When they say the same, or drop hints to the same, I think: "Oh ok, I have some dignity, I'll walk away and not make his life hell".

I'm friends with the majority of my ex-blokes. I liked them enough to be with them in the first place. The others were cunts.

I don't have one-night-stands, I don't play mind-games and I'm completely open about what's going on in my head. Bizarrely, in some fellas' eyes that makes me all sorts of evil.

Fuck me, I'm well-adjusted.

( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:56, 18 replies)

as I have no story for this, have a kind of related one
BEWARE: incredibly long pearoast:

I've only ever related the full extent of this to one person, and will now share it with you.

I had been seeing my ex for two and a half years. Both of us happy and in love for most of the time, albeit I was stoned at least half of it.

We had been living together before we got together at uni, and continued to do so throughout the whole of our relationship. this never caused any troubles.

We shared the same group of friends, a very close group, and everyone got on amazingly well. (and smoked a lot of dope)

it happened that on my course there was a girl who I had liked from pretty much the moment I met her (before I met my ex), she was attached at the time unfortunately, and I was a long-haired overweight metaller. not a good basis for a relationship.

This girl and I became good friends to the extent of sitting together in pretty much every lecture we had for 4 years; we had an arrangement whereby she informed of what work I needed to do and by when, and I checked hers for spelling and grammar. This worked beautifully for both of us.

There was never any thought of a relationship between us until towards the end of our final year at uni we had a field trip to Barcelona, and it became apparent to each of us seperately (when incredibly drunk) that after another month or so that we might not see each other again. (I was no longer a long-haired overweight metaller)

Nothing happened on this trip save for a couple of hours holding hands (possibly some of the happiest hours of my life, and I was unbelievably, rip-roaringly drunk. Three sheets to the wind. Nissed as a pewt. etc.)

On return from Barcelona we parted, with some thinking to be done.

At this point I had decided that my future with the (now ex) girlfriend was not going to be to my liking. Frankly she was becoming a little annoying.

Coupled with this, on a night out with some coursemates, the new girl and I again ended up holding hands and repaired back to hers for a talk (and talk we did). we also shared the best first kiss one could imagine.

I walked home on cloud 9, although with every step closer to my house it was coming home to me that I'd have to split up with my (then current) gf, who I lived with, shared a group of friends with, and who was in the middle of writing her dissertation and would shortly have her finals...

this left me in a dilemma. my nature wouldn't let me break things off with her due to the things mentioned above, and clearly I couldn't continue the way things had been. I wanted to be with the new girl.

So I broke the news to the current gf that I wasn't sure if I loved her anymore, and needed some time to think about it. This led to me jetting off to Swansea for a few days to visit my mate at uni there and going on a massive bender (I think)

a few days later I returned to work on my dissertation etc. to find that my gf had gone to home to work on hers thus leaving me in relative peace.

Now, at this stage I didn't know who knew what out of my friends, so I resolved to keep as much to myself as I could. Spending all day in the library or computer room revising and writing my dissertation and coming home in the evening to lock myself in my room, smoke fags (had given up pot for the duration of this) and chat with the new girl on msn.

Some afternoons were spent in the arms of the new girl, never going that far, but far enough to make me feel somewhat guilty about my double life.

this went on for some time as exams were dealt with and dissertations finished.

One day I was at home and my old gf had been shopping in town. I had finally insisted to myself that today was the day I had to break up with her, regardless of how hard it would be.

I see her arrive by taxi via the gift of my window, and basically run upstairs, bursting into my room.

Her bag and contents including phone, wallet etc. had been stolen while trying on shoes

(a lesson here for you girls)

I naturally tried to comfort her. While I didn't want to be with her anymore, I still cared for her very much, and respected her as well.

Unfortunately she detected "something wrong with my hug" and decided that I did indeed not love her anymore.

This led to the breakup where I uttered all the cliches (It's not you, it's me etc.)

The part I felt guilty about (and did up until I heard that our friends had found out the truth some time later and informed me that I did the right thing) is this:

she repeatedly and insistently, whilst staring at me, asked if there was someone else. I went through a massive debate in my head in a split second, looked her in the eye and said a clear, firm "No"

this was repeated several times with her asking "why don't I believe you?"

eventually this passed, there was some awkwardness, and I once again, drove to Swansea for an almighty 3 day bender in relief and celebration.

I've seen her once or twice since then, and things were awkward (what can I say, I'm awesome, I affect people) but now things are all good, she's happy, and the new girl is the current Mrs Vipros of 3 years and counting. we are just about to buy our second place together.

I'm certain I did the right thing. and the few people who I've told or who know the story have backed me up on that, so I feel vindicated.

The moral of this story is that while honesty is the best policy, a lie if delivered effectively and with conviction can save someone you care about a lot of heartache.

and save you from a whole load more explaining!!!

many apologies for length, but it's wasted my last half hour of work, and I like to think it's a reasonably interesting tale.

if I've blurred any details, and you are dying to know more then message me and I'll try and clear things up.

that is all
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:54, 4 replies)

Well...
I ate a lot of curry and a whole packet of senna pods.




I'm so so sorry
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:45, 13 replies)

my guilty pleasure
is posting 13 weeks late

(probably the wrong number but I just want to get this in first)
( Vipros. clever got me this far, then tricky got me in, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:44, 4 replies)

I did once resort to repeatedly dosing a girl with laxatives.
In retrospect, this was a silly thing to do in my own house.
( Dr Preference AjcuiVd289, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:44, Reply)

possibly the point
where I officially wrote to him via recorded delivery to tell him to cease all contact or I would be getting a restraining order.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:41, 3 replies)

Why I hate planes.
Sorry for posting this here but the last QOTW unexpectedly closed early.

· Planes contribute to the Venusforming of our lovely planet more than any other mode of transport.

· Planes fly over the in-between parts. Trains go through.

· Planes may be fast but they’re a horrible way to travel – a bit like a flying bus.

· I’ve never once met an interesting person on a plane. Have managed to do so on busses, trains and boats. Amongst my inner circle of friends, only one of them has met someone interesting on a plane, but they were from Kyrgyztan, and we all know what the Kyrgyz are like.

· Unlike trains and large boats, planes don’t let you walk around, stretch your legs and explore (unless you don’t mind pacing up and down the aisle).

· Planes have the lowest chance of survival if something goes wrong.


Douglas Adams said it best when he said "It can hardly be a coincidence that no language on earth has ever produced the expression “As pretty as an airport.”". To date, this is the best novel-opener I've seen.
( mistaspakkaman and the inedible shifting caterpillars, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:41, 2 replies)

Pah!
I'm too desperate to make myself get dumped.
( girlinthehole, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:40, Reply)

1
*&^£ING CUSTOMERS!!!!!

but at least I can eat this scone now without getting crumbs all over the f5 key
(happylittletulip helpless and delicious, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:39, Reply)

First
first

edit:

I hate you, you and your mad skills. Stupid daytime tv distracting me.
(PenguinOfDeath is Scottish, and most likely angry, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:39, Reply)

Cunt
\/
(Belgaer is, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:39, 1 reply)

First
As always.

A story will be added, when I'm less busy.
It will involve "falling" down some stairs, and a lot of amphibians.
( Cawl, Thu 5 Jun 2008, 10:39, 36 replies)