A few things.....
3 stories spring to mind for me, though not as traumatic as some of the others i've read here, but anyways, 1 of them would be strange from anyone else's POV, another irritating, and another was torture.

The strange one first:
I had journeyed from canterbury to gillingham to spend the day with my (at the time, our realtionship has since come to an end, dammit....) gf, anyways, it ended up with me having to take a late train back to canterbury (10:30-ish pm if i remember right....) anyways her dad kindly gives me a lift down to the station, knowing i was on a bound to end the day on a high note, as i made to get out of the car (cut me some slack people, this was my first relationship and as a result was still kinda nervous about it plus i was head-over-heels in love with her) so just before i get out of the car, i turn around to her and say "night my princess, i love you" and we hold hands for a few seconds and for the first time ever all my worries in life vanished, leaving me feeling incredible. Anyways, I then get on the train not long after and find myself a seat, the euphoria of what just happened hitting me in full force, i was slumped in my seat with my eyes watering, anyone who set eyes on me on that train probably thought i was high as a kite or a very close approximation.

The irritating one:
Another time me and my best mate from uni were both getting the bus from canterbury to deal to have a good ol' drinkup with a friend of ours as it was his birthday, so we get on the bus, chossing to sit right at the back as at the time it offered the most space. A few stops down the line, the bus is now somewhat more crowded than when it set off from canterbury, so cue a (very soon to turn out) family seating themselves on the seats around us. Off the bus goes, cue the stereotypical uber-noisy kids who won't shut the hell up. Thankfully that bunch of genetic party favours people these days call a family got off eventually, although it did leave my head pounding afterwards.

The torture experience:
The day after the drinkup, which took place that previous evening and culminated in me getting blitzed out of my brains as a result of downing a sizeable amount of a bottle of whiskey and of rum, not to mention a big bottle and a half of smirnoff ice and a few beers on the side as a result of a hefty game of fu-bar (and i swear the bastards rigged the deck but i digress). The result of me downing all of that was me almost pushing my best mate out of our friend's living room window (which was on the 2nd floor as it was a flat) scaring their dog (i swear they fed that thing nothing but pure, refined crack as it was permently hyper but i digress) and our friend's gf to the point that they both barricaded themselves in the bedroom (off on a random tangent again, prior to these violent events i did discover that i can play darts whilst heavily under the influence as hit the bull on my first shot). Anyways the shock of what I did soon hit home and that screwed me up good and proper, but enough of that, fast forward a few hours and i was (trying) to sleep on the sofa but this was hampered by a number of things, firstly still being in shock from what i did earlier, secondly now realising i was extremely hungry and thirdly their idiot-fucking-titty-bumwank busted answering machine that would switch itself on and off every few minutes. Having had enough of this, myself and my mate decide to take the earliest possible bus back to canterbury, which was at about 6:30am. What I neglected to realise was that this bus didn't go straight back to canterbury like our outgoing bus had been, this one was heading for dover and who knows where. All too soon the effects of last nights piss up were taking their toll on me and I was feeling a tad queasy, that coupled with the fatigue of a sleepless night and a headache as a result of the answering machine made me feel like utter shit, so from the start I knew I was in for a tough ride home. So most of the jounry home was spent trying not to throw up whilt feeling lousy all the way back. Somehow I managed to never throw up from all that booze which I thought a miracle but that none too smooth bus journey back was nothing short of torture for me.

Apologies for what probably seems like a rant but I felt I had to go into slightly deeper detail on certain things.

Length? The relationship - a little over 2 months, the outgoing bus journey - about 90mins, the bus journy back - about 2 and a half hours
(Howling_Mad Gave God the finger on:, Fri 30 May 2008, 11:47, 2 replies)

Just to clarify...
you were with this girl in uni then?
(Fuckarma was masturbating into your handbag, Fri 30 May 2008, 12:16, closed)