Oh, the regret
I regret every drink I've drunk and every drink I've turned down
(Jugular, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 16:32, Reply)

Drunken party at friends house...
Back in '99 i took my then girlfriend to a party at our mate charlotte's house. claire (girlfriend) gets a bit pissed and we head upstairs to test drive Charlotte's new bed. after a resounding performance on both our parts, we head back down to the party.

Claire now drinks a half bottle of vodka in one as a bet and passes out. Charlotte then spends all night trying to fet into my trousers.

i had never really thought of her that way and found that the situation was a little disturbing - WARNING! this is what absynthe does to your brain.

eventually i decline her offers and retire to claire's house where she thows up on me. two weeks later claire and i split as she turns out to be a controling and manipuative evil bitch. Charlotte however gets it on with her new friend and i'm left wondering what would have been.

she still flirted with me after this and even though i was sorely tested i managed to say no on all occations - some things are left better to the imagination.

leaving things to the imagination is my BIGGEST regret!

*Knob Joke Here*
( Druss_The_Legend Splurge!, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 16:27, Reply)

speculus:
QUOTE:
On way out got spotted by the lads from work who were walking past on other side of road. I was LEAVING A GAY BAR. They saw me. Have never lived it down...


For fuck's sake.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 16:22, Reply)

not following the instructions of an MC

I failed to wave my hands in the air, like I just didn't care.

I blame this for my subsequent failure to party on till the break of dawn.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 16:20, Reply)

as someone who lives in a fantasy world

I regret not marrying a mermaid and living in her undersea kingdom when I had the chance.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 16:12, Reply)

when
I was very young, I was happy. and warm. and comfortable. then I was born, and never found my way back to that place... bummer.
(radja, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 16:05, Reply)

Mates little sister...
...not that bad - honest - me 19, her 18. new years eve in the year 2000. everyone else to bed, us quite sober, stayed up till dawn talking.

something really should've come of that night. ended up with an awkward hug on the landing before moving to separate bedrooms.
still cant get her out of my head-shit.
(hatofjam built a friend out of lego on, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 15:56, Reply)

Not having sex with someone who flirted with me incessantly all day Sunday
and knowing that it was going to be goooooooooood.... (been there before)
But instead, stupidly, declining, having to get to bed early because of a maaasive work presentation that had to be written. Responsibilities... and was ill.
Kicking self now although backtracking. Fast..
(MsRosalita, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 15:55, Reply)

Biggest fuckwit in the world
I deeply regret going out with a complete knobhead who goes by the name of Fuckwit (ok, ok so maybe that's not his REAL name but it should have been so that is why me and pals re-christened him with the appropraite tag). I met Fuckwit many moons ago at uni and all seemed well - lots of laughs and good times and we started "going out". All was well, though he did demonstrate some odd highly strung tendencies, such as huffing off in the night when I'd had a row with one of our flatmates (yep, I made the mistake of living with the nonce as well) and he couldn't handle the fact that he didn't have the balls to stand up for me. But I just let those kind of things slip.

So, things started getting a bit weird and i realised that he wasn't just highly strung - he was nuts. As in psycho. As in total schizo.

First off, he starts with the "where are you going?", "who did you talk to today at uni?", "who was that man you spoke to?" etc etc. Then he'd go through receipts to see what I'd been spending MY money on. Again, I thought it was a bit odd but nothing really to worry about. He upped his game by resorting to personal attacks - he'd tell me I was fat (I weighed 7 stone), tell me I was ugly, criticise my clothes, especially when I was about to go out, tell me to drop out of uni because I'd never pass. It had such a devastating affect on my confidence. He played on my insecurities and it worked. It was a gradual thing so by the time I realised what was happening it was too late - my confidence to leave was zapped.

It came to a head when he spiked my drink with some form of sedative on a night out, took me home, left me there alone (with me drifting in and out of consciousness and not knowing what the hell was happening to me) and then telling his friends that I was an alcoholic and making his life a nightmare!! So naturally, they started making my life hell too.

Anyway, my friends and family sorted me out and 3 months after kicking the skinny, weasly little scrote to the kerb I was back to my usual self. I got my degree, got a job, and, as my best friend told me, I got my sparkle back. He, however, is still a skinny, weasly scrote.

Oops, I rambled on quite a bit but it's good for the soul :-)
(angelica666, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 15:35, Reply)

Dumb kid
I regret being a little bit slow as a kid. My lack of cognitive abilities lead to the untimely demise of both of my pets.

First, Ben, my lovely little hamster. I used to get hours of amusement electrifying his cage and watching him jump. But that didn't kill him. It was my inability to tell the difference between a hazlenut (small) and a conker (large). The greedy little bastard ate the cocker I'd put in his food bowl and suffercated.

Now my gold fish. He was cold, well the water fell cold to me. And kettles...they made water warm...I knew that. I didn't yet know boiling water killed fish.
(hazeyb, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 15:20, Reply)

pjm
i know... somewhere there is someone having an awfully good time whilst i roll around in all their shit. quite literally.

oh well, it's all material for the best selling novel!
( rachelswipe with a fork, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 15:07, Reply)

I Regret
going out clubbing when I had the shits, finding the bog had no paper, and using an empty, inside-out salt and vinegar crisps bag instead.

It still makes me wince.
( MisterPunch did it that way on, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 15:03, Reply)

Facial
A very lovely lady, who I wasnt supposed to be knocking off, once gave me a choice of locations for 'unloading'. To my everlasting regret I didnt go for her face.
Damn. Damn. Damn.
(darfbozo, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 14:54, Reply)

I slept with my (now-ex) girlfriend's sister.
...but I don't regret it for a moment.

What I do regret is that 4 years earlier I was in a bar and I saw two attractive girls. I walked over and started speaking to the one on the LEFT. With hiendsight, I should have gone RIGHT.

I spent the next 4 years slowly building a relationship with the LEFT girl, whilst realising - at a much quicker pace - that I was actually in love with her sister (on the RIGHT).

And what's more - it was mutual: we got on great, there was no doubt that the attraction was there but there was always the small matter of her sister being my girlfriend.

And so after 3 and a half years, we did what any sensible people would do. We got drunk, slept together, enjoyed it immenseley, pretended to regret it as she cried because she really regretted it, wash, rinse, repeat for about 3 months.

After 3 months neither of us could take it any more - it was an impossible situation.

The actual girlfriend hadn't a clue, which made it all the more cruel when I split up with her seemingly out of the blue, I but had to break away from the both of them.

That was all three years ago now, and I haven't seen or spoken a single word to either of them since. Not an email, not a text.

There's not a single day that goes by that I don't wish I'd turned to the right.
(Flickr_Freak is a figment of your imagination., Fri 6 Oct 2006, 14:50, Reply)

Last day
Regrets are odd bastards.
One of my oldest friends was diagnosed with terminal cancer some 4 years ago and although fighting it with every ounce of strength he had he gradually slipped silently into becoming the grey, sickly figure his family gathered around in the Leeds Infirmary.
Not that I knew that at the time, no, I was far more bothered about telling the world about how my then fiancee and now ex-bitch from hell had ripped out my heart and dumped me. I wallowed in self pity while he wallowed in a morphine induced haze.
I visited him once, with a group of other friends, and passed the time of day and looked concerned. But my mind was elsewhere, because that ex-bitch was still twisting the knife in my stupid little heart and nothing and no-one could snap me out of this grandious despair, not even one of my oldest friends losing a leg, then a lung.. then all hope.

By some weird twist of something I found myself one day actually considering the notion of visiting him.. I trudged up the hill to the local infirmary to which he had been moved to and spent a sobering hour or so with him at his bedside. By now he was taking oxygen every few seconds and couldn't really talk. It was December, I gave him a miniature Christmas tree for his bedside cabinet and said ' See you later then..'
I was the last person to speak to him.

My regrets are obvious, spending far too much precious time wanking around, moaning about my ex.. and in a funny way I regret that I was the last person to speak to him. His father, his brother, any one of our mutual friends who had all been better bed side visitors and better company for him in his last few months should have been there, not me.
Not 'johnny-come-lately' me.

I regret not realising what was more important back then.
I make sure not to make that mistake again nowadays

Oh dear, sorry to be depressing, here.. have a lollipop.
(Hicksion, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 14:43, Reply)

I regret nothing I have done
That probably makes me a sociopath.

While I am busy being all blase and blustery, My only regret is not having done more of the things that I don't regret. Ner ner na ner ner.

(I do regret going 'ner ner na ner ner' though)
(Siouxfan I'm not staring at you, I am just short sighted, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 14:01, Reply)

The Shame...
When I was young I spent a couple of years after A Levels (which weren’t good enough to get me into the Uni I wanted) bumming around, working temp/bar jobs then back-packing, grape picking etc. Actually ended up with possibly the best job in the World (if you ignore the pay). I was in Nice in the South of France working for a guy called Jean-Claude who sold sugar coated peanuts on the beach. As this was illegal, I acted as a lookout for him, walking along the Promenade des Anglais (appropriately enough), keeping pace with him on the beach below. When ‘les flics’ turned up, I’d turn to him, wave and shout “Hey John!”, as if I’d spotted a mate, he’d duck down until they’d gone. So, I was getting paid for ogling topless women all day and topping up a tan.

Did I regret any of this? No, but bear with me.

I was part of a group of mainly English speakers that hung out together, Brits, Irish, Aussies etc. sound as a pound to a man…except for a couple of nasty-minded English boys. One day, a couple of the gang were leaving, both Londoners, one was Jewish, the other of Italian extraction – nice lads. We saw them off and returned to the beach.

At this point, nasty piece of work No.1 (can’t remember his name) started spouting an extreme anti-semitic tirade. His favourite anecdote was how he put dogshit through a Rabbi’s letterbox. Now, for those of you that didn’t know, my grandfather changed his name from Greenberg to Grimsdale* to appear less German during WWI. I’m not immediately Jewish-looking and this nazi had obviously no idea that I was.

Regret? Not saying a frigging word at this point, not punching him in his horrid face. In fact, no-one said a word, to be fair, they got the message that their views weren’t generally held and they were shunned from that moment on, but the private torment, the churning shame of that moment burn in me to this day. I can’t explain it really except to say that all my life I’ve shied away from trouble, I am, I suppose, a coward.

If you’ve never seen ‘A Gentleman’s Agreement’ starring Gregory Peck, try to catch it some time, it may help you to understand me.

Enough therapy for one week…normal service will be resumed shortly.

*Well, you get the idea
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 13:58, Reply)

FiftyFour
Get out of stoke mate, it will be the death of you!

Not joining a rather well known band :-(
((((InfraSound))) SUNN0))) > YOU!, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 13:49, Reply)

Regrets
I'd dearly love this post to be funny, but unfortunately it's difficult to muster comedy when reviewing this list of unmitigated dumbassness. These include:

Marrying ex-Mrs PJM, who is in with a shout of winning the "most monumentally selfish and arrogant person who's ever walked the planet" award. Highlights include her having a fling with a mate of mine, having the front to blame me for she couldn't keep her knickers on. Apparently he had a tiny penis - so that's all right then. She bitched to me about the fact that none of my friends wanted anything to do with her after that and suggested they were being unreasonable. Then there was the moment I suggested we get relationship counselling, to which she replied "great idea. As most of the problems in this relationship seem to be because of you, why don't you get counselling?". Married life was a drugdery of more or less constant verbal abuse if I didn't go along with exactly what she wanted, exactly when she wanted it and her habit of making snide remarks at me in front of my friends and family. I actually put up with this shit for five years, blaming myself for it every time before I finally saw sense when I had barely a shred of self esteem remaining.

Not getting together with Georgina ten years earlier. She's pretty, affectionate, loyal and very, very sweet (basically everything the soul destroying twunt referred to above wasn't). Back in the day she was seeing one of my friends who treated her like shit - which set the stage for most of her subsequent relationships. She had a soft spot for me and vice versa but we both kept quiet, however things didn't work out because we were both carrying a good deal of baggage which proved insurmountable. Maybe ten years earlier things would have been different and I'd have not married ex-Mrs PJM.

Coming home from a night on the lash with a very lovely lady it uni (who's name reminds me of something you see first thing in the morning), whom I was crazy about. Anyway, we ended up sharing a bed for purposes of sleep all platonic like. I was doing well until she uttered "Be careful, you might wake up to find me making mad passionate love to you!", whereupon I spent the remainder of the night behaving myself because I wasn't quite sure where I stood but in considerable gentlemanly discomfort. I apparently had a pronounced limp the following morning.

Then there was my failure to phone the lovely Melanie MacDonald, a friend of a girl I was briefly seeing back in the day, who'd actually walked up and handed me her phone number in a club twice (some years apart!) and suggested we "get together". I can only put down my non-telephoning to a bad case of recurring fuckwittage. Mel, if you're reading this it was because I had no idea why the hell a pretty, witty and clever girl like you wanted anything to do with a herbert like me.

Then there was me thinking that my much missed and incredibly chilled out cat, Leonard would be okay after being chucked outside my new place for the day while I was at work. Poor little bugger was four miles from home when he was eventually run over. I still haven't forgiven myself for that one.

Finally, there was the monumental mistake of buying an Alfa Romeo thinking "surely there can't be THAT much to go wrong with it?", not realising that they are assembled out of left over parts from Airfix kits by a factory full of ADHD afflicted 8 year olds.

NB - After reading some of rachelswipe's posts, jeez you're owed some good karma girl!
(Bicycle Repairman "you're also a bit of a wanker", Fri 6 Oct 2006, 13:42, Reply)

The thing that kills me every day...
About 2 and a half years ago i found out that a girl in my Secondary school who i had barely noticed before had taken a real liking to me. So anyway we were introduced by a friend one night whilst out getting pissed, and i must say she was, and still is, absolutely gorgeous. and smart, and funny, and good-natured. Generally perfect in every way. Unfortunately at the confused age of 16, i found it very hard to accept just how much this girl liked me. Usually the girls who showed this sort of affection towards me were either complete Pug-ugly mongs, or a bit mental, or had STDs, or all of the above.

To be honest i was kinda shocked and scared by it all, and found it very hard to get close with this girl and really open up to her.

Anyway the long and the short of it is, i basically told her (i hate myself so much for this) that she was very nice, but i just didn't really want a relationship with her or anyone. She was quite upset and we didn't speak for about a year (not because she refused to talk to me, more just that we didn't really see each other much as i had left school by this point and lived in a different town).

Anyway, flash forward a year, and i see this girl at a mates house party one night, and OH MY GOD it suddenly hit me. What the fuck had i done??? This girl is absolutely amazing, the perfect girl for me...Even though i was 17, i could actually imagine spending the ret of my life with her (corny as it sounds). To be honest, from that night on, i started to gradually fall in love with her. Problem is she's been going out with this other guy for the last year now and i think it's gonna remain a long term thing.

I still think about her every day and kick myself for being such a fucking twat and letting her slip away.

..And if you're reading this Katy Macintyre, I'm sorry i fucked things up and i love you. Really.

I Think the lesson for everyone here is that if something good comes your way out of the blue, FOR FUCK SAKE hold onto it..cos it'll be gone sooner than you realise if you don't.

*Apologies for general boringness of this post...but when a QOTW pops up that you can really relate to, sometimes it's just gotta be done*
(BatCountry organised, attended, and was thrown out on, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 13:36, Reply)

Lesbians
Got very drunk after work one night with some of the lads. Left before the footy finished as was ballooned. Got "talking" to two pretty girls in the street sort of "aza azar azar I luv yerz aza zar hic". They said they were lesbians and I didn't believe them and harried them mercilessly thinking I was "in". They went into a gay bar to "prove" it. I followed them in. I eventually decided I wasn't "in" at all and had absolutely NO CHANCE. I think I was asked to leave by a large gentleman. I left.
On way out got spotted by the lads from work who were walking past on other side of road. I was LEAVING A GAY BAR. They saw me. Have never lived it down and it's something that is difficult to deny. It just makes things worse. What can you say? The rumours went round work like wild fire and got funny looks from just about EVERYBODY. Still gotta laugh. Sob.
(speculus, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 13:36, Reply)

no, I regret nothing

except sometimes I wish I had eyebrows.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 13:34, Reply)

Wise
Che Grimsdale - Wise closing words there. I've often thought about most of those....

I left my job of 8 plus years in July - shoulda done it sooner.

That's the job part sorted, now to fess up my feelings... Well, we'll see about that.
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 13:34, Reply)

EEEEeeeeeevil
Reading all these stories reminds me of a whole bunch of stuff I've done this year that I really, really shouldn't have and ought to regret, but I don't. I seriously think I've had a conscience bypass....

Anyhoo

I regret sticking with an ex who I was about to dump until I found out that her Uncle had not been a nice man to her. I, like a good** man, stuck by her side and supported her.

Supported her while she descended into insanity, drink and eventually drugs and treated me like an utter bastard. All while I stood by and tried to help and started to get dragged down with her - I fortuntately wised up when I went to Uni and she decided she was a lesbian (and got a fat ignorant girlfriend).

Took me about 3 years to get my head straight and shake off the complex and insecurities that I gained because of that episode.

Regrets? Of being so damn stupid and blind? Hell, yes.

I've got some prozac - Anyone else want some?

**For good man, read "moron"
(james_tiger_woods is going to start his killing spree on the, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 13:30, Reply)

I wanna tell you a story…
[No apologies for duration, if you can’t last the course, you’re no match for me]

Many, many years ago, in a far-off suburb in North London there lived a young man called Che Grimsdale. He was a fresh-faced young man of 17 with a ready wit, skinny legs; he was as horny as the brass section of the London Philharmonic Orchestra and well practised in the arts of fwapping. At this time he had a best friend who was on his third or fourth girlfriend, having popped his cherry a year or so before, but our Che was one of those lads that a) are very shy with the opposite sex and, b) seemingly unattractive to girls. Yes, our Che had never even kissed a girl, had never been ‘on a date’ or ‘gone out with’ a girl. The very name Virgin Records made him blush and squirm and he was more or less miserable when not stoned out of his gourd.

Now, in order to earn some cash, he got a Saturday job in the kitchen of a department store restaurant, and in this kitchen was a catering student by the name of Paula. She was a comely wench, svelte of figure with silky blond hair, though her face was nothing to write home about. Anyway, Che and Paula got along fine, working in the confines of a tiny kitchen, banter was bantered, glances were exchanged…Che got a little hot under the collar.

One Saturday, it so happened that Che and Paula took their break at the same time, chatting away, Paula suddenly came out with a comment that is seared on Che’s memory as if it happened yesterday not in 1980:

“Don’t you think that the nicest thing two people can do is spend the night together?” she breathed.

“Yeah…” Che replied. “ME TOO” shouted little Che from the cover of Che’s suddenly too tight underpants.

Anyway, she invited me round to her place, and in her large bedroom we listened to David Bowie and chatted about this and that. I found out that she was an amateur gymnast (moan…) and she she showed me some of her moves. She was wearing tight jeans and a tight top that looked like it was actually her gymnastics one-piece. We ended up on her bed sort of play fighting…

The regret? Not being able to say: “Look, Paula. I’ve got a confession, I’ve never had a girlfriend before…can you show me what to do? I’m in your hands, guide me, teach me, earn my never-dying gratitude.”

I didn’t, a friend turned up with her brother to give me a lift home. The next Saturday I invited Paula to a party. By damn fool luck I was offered the chance to try acid that night and didn’t turn it down. When Paula turned up at the party I was tripping off my head, I tried to introduce her to a mate: “Paul, this is…er…” “Paula”, she said. That killed her interest in me.

I was 19 before I finally popped my cherry…but that story can wait for another day.
------------------------------------------------------
Words of wisdom from one who’s made plenty of mistakes in his time: 99% of the time it is the things that you DON’T do that you regret, it is much rarer to regret something you DO. Take that chance, accept that offer, ditch that girl, walk out of that job, tell her/him how you really feel, go on that trip…and you can blame me when it all goes pear-shaped.
(Che Grimsdale Best before:, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 13:29, Reply)

I regret the 4 pints I had last night
It’s not the hang over, I enjoy those, when they are on work time - It means I don't waste my weekend feeling bad.

I regret smell of the beer farts. I use the word regret like some might use the term proud of...
(waxdart hello., Fri 6 Oct 2006, 13:23, Reply)

I regret dropping out of college...
...in June. I should have fucking done it in October.
(><(((">, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 13:04, Reply)

Regrets, eh?
Starting Smoking.

And never taking LSD, Mushrooms or any other form of hallucogenic before becoming a responsible father.
( mikemystery blames the parents, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 12:52, Reply)

I regret eating that bag of salt and vinegar crisps
as I am now dead thirsty and the water cooler is MILES AWAY :'(
( Droog is too orangey for crows, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 12:50, Reply)

my worst regrets are rugrats

but my best memories are mammaries.
(apeloverage committed the vile act of onanism on, Fri 6 Oct 2006, 12:24, Reply)