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This is a question Crappy relationships

"Recently," Broken Arrow tells us, "The missus informed me that her brother was moving with us." What has your partner done that's convinced you the magic's gone? "Breathe" is not an answer.

(, Thu 21 Oct 2010, 12:33)
Pages: Popular, 10, 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

My made up relationship story is true
On my first night at university I got drinking with a group of lads and, as 18 year old boys do, we all started boasting about sex. I had no sex boasts, having had no sex, but I still joined in. “yeah, well once I was shagging my girlfriend in her mums bed, and we were really banging it, and her mum walked in, and as she walked out she defiantly gave me a wink” I lied.

Why this imaginary mother would wink at a short spotty chubbster mounting her daughter, rather than vomiting in disappointment, was not questioned. I now realise that was only because all the stories told that night were lies,to call one would have collapsed the whole pack.

Once I’d settled into a social group my ghostly girlfriend followed me. She now had a name (Lucy) a vocation (studying medicine in Bristol, year above us) and an appearance (megafit). All this within a week, my most successful relationship ever!

After a month of audacious charlatanism I met a girl who I liked, and who I thought might like me. She wasn’t megafit like Lucy, but she was real. I realised I had to break it off with the nonexistent Bristolian.

But how to do it without looking a knob. I had boasted to everyone who would listen about how into each other Lucy and I were. If I just said “oh yeah, it’s over” they would assume I had been dumped, no doubt for being shit in bed. If I announced out of the blue I had dumped her then everone would think I was a bastard (yes I was self obsessed).

So I faked the collapse of the relationship over several months. Lucy’s behaviour became more and more unstable, the relationship more and more crappy, she would phone me in the middle of the night demanding I went to Bristol (/to my parents house). She would arrange to visit me in London and pull out at the last minute. I made sure all my friends knew that I had the feeling we were drifting apart.

After a about 9 weeks of this I faked a day long mega sulk, sighing loudly and doing a strange stare into the middle distance that I thought effectively communicated emotional turmoil. Eventually someone asked me what was wrong and I confessed “Yeah me and Lucy broke up last night”.

Hooray! I was free. I did date the real girl for a short while, but she dumpted me for being a twat. Various other relationships have come and gone, all of them real and most of them hard work. Sometimes I wish I’d stayed with Lucy, she would be an imaginary doctor by now, we could be looking for an imaginary house, maybe planning an imaginary baby. Life would easy.

And yes it turns out everyone knew she was made up all along.
(, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 11:44, 16 replies)
the hose beast
i won't bore you with too many details
i dated a girl briefly once. she introduced herself to me by telling me her mate fancied me. after spending all night chatting to her, about said 'mate' she reveals it's actually her. kinda fucked up, but sweet enough i think.

we date for a while. loads sex, loads fun. then it begins.
first she tells me she's pregnant, i freak internally but tell her i'll do what i need to to support her, though from choice, i'd say we're both too young, poor, and not ready to be parents. she then tells me she was lying, she made it up because she really liked me and needed to know how i'd react if something did happen.

a while later, she got mad over nothing, then dumped me. then undumped me the next day. this became a recurring theme, i was too infatuated to say no.

then, one evening, i had some bad news. a friend had been found by this girl i was also good mates with, hanging in his flat. a good guy with a lot of problems. i was gutted. i arid to meet this girl for a drink because i knew they were so close and she was in a bad state.
the girlfriend, let's call her bitch, because invoking her name, even now, nine years later, tends to have, shall we say, repercussions, tells me in no uncertain terms i WILL be back home by nine.
i tell her i'll be back when i'm back and not to push it, today's been hard.
she dumps me again, screams obscenities at me. now i've NEVER been unfaithful, not ever. no reason for jealousy. i just walked out. went to talk about my dead friend. got back, lights out, room trashed to fuck, Bitch gone.

next morning she calls, all apologetic, says i'm not REALLY dumped. i tell her too little too late, if you don't mean things don't say em, we're done.

this prompted the worst six months of my life so far.
started with her telling me she was pregnant. standard.
i asked in light of the earlier situation if she could provide some kind of proof.. doctor's letter, hell, piss on a stick.. nothing. i told her till she did then i was treating it as another lie, but i was prepared to do the right thing if it wasn't.
then began the threatening texts, phone calls. i had to get her number, her mum, sister, brother, friends, workplace's numbers and emails, mobile and landline added to the blacklist so i could actually get work done.
i had to get her barred from the building by security. i had to get them to let me leave via the back entrance, because she'd be waiting for me outside on lunch, after work, attacking me in the street, screaming, crying, screaming for help then telling people i was trying to rape her.
then she started turning up at my house. one time, i came in, found the back door open, and she came at me with a fuckin breadknife screaming like a banshee.
she started telling anyone who would listen i was forcing her to have an abortion against her will. and believe me, it's amazing the amount who will listen if you're a new face on the scene and some girl is sucking their dick while saying how scared she is of you.
threats of violence from her friends, my new and now ex-friends, her family started. her dad and big brother turning up at my house in their car and sitting on the driveway calling me out. she assaulted my landlord, who is NOT someone you fuck with.. i got the flak for it.
one time i remember she was screaming in the back garden, tearing out clumps of her hair, went inside to try and minimise the neighbours getting pissed, and she started smacking her head on the floor, then BING, she went from banshee, to calm, blank eyed space cadet, developed a cockney accent out of nowhere and started going 'we''l be awwight, oi know ya loves me really'
gives me fucking chills.
she started leaving children's toys on the doorstep with notes saying shit like 'this is for our baby, you have to come with me to the clinic'
i did, she didn't turn up.
then when the abortion story ran dry, she changed tack. started telling everyone i'd got her HIV positive. finally, i reached a point where i had nowhere to run. i knew she had enough on me cos of my drug related activities i couldn't go to the police, so i moved house, job and social circle to get away.
it took three years before i could go out in reading again without fear, and even then she'd corner anyone i was with and harangue them with tales of how i was a rapist, had aids, beat her, anything and everything would fall out of that cunt's mouth like poison.
years later, and i mean years, maybe 8, i ran into another guy who'd been my predecessor. he had to get a restraining order against her. found out she went to a luxury holiday camp for a bit, the kind that pads the walls and everything is on room service.

about a year and a half back, i went for a job interview, aced it, got told i would be hearing back very son, saw her in the lobby on the way out.. an hour later i get a call, i'm not technically able enough. really? i told the fuckin interviewer something she didn't know. i KNOW it was her.

i'm withholding her name not to protect her, but to protect me. she's a bit lawyer-happy for someone who's a walking harassment suit, as i found to my cost when i retold a story like this to someone i thought i could trust not that many years back.

overall it taught me valuable lessons about trusting people, and self preservation.
reading. it breeds crazy bitches, and to them, i'm like a fluorescent light to a moth.

apologies for length. it's not funny either. bad times.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 15:12, 21 replies)
13 years we had been married
this past September.

For our wedding anniversary she gave me a bar. It was a bar that looked like a very nice cupboard, that sat in the corner nondescript, classy but not over stated but, when you opened the doors, it had 10 places to store bottles of hard booze, a 24 bottle wine rack, draws, glasses storage a few shelves and a top the folded out to make a wide serving area. To the untrained eye, you can't tell what it is (so I don't look like I have a pub in my lounge room).

For fathers day, she let the kids buy me booze (well she paid for it, directed them to the top shelf stuff and wrapped it up but, they handed it over).

She still enjoys and wants regular quality sex, she takes care of herself, she looks great, she is nice to my friends, doesn't have horrid skanks as mates. She has her own career, her own life. She supports me in more ways than one (and I hope she feels that I do the same for her).

She gives me a hard time when I am a slacker, she won't let me turn into a slob, she tells me when I am wrong and she helps me to see balance when I am on a rant.

13 years married, 2 years before dating etc, 2 kids, 3 countries, doesn't get too fired up that I think her sister is an out and out fuckwit and puts up with my cockfuck of a brother.

I am pleased to say, the magic is still well and truly strong and nowhere near gone.

So, amongst the nut cases, psychopaths, violent assholes and sad cases this week, don't give up, there are some sensational partnerships out there, and I am pleased beyond stoked that I have one. Don't settle for shit and don't give up.

A little upbeat for this weeks not so upbeat tales.

Sorry about the lack of funnies.
(, Sun 24 Oct 2010, 14:51, 9 replies)
Silent treatment
She didn't speak to me for three days because I was mean to her IN A DREAM.
(, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 0:09, 32 replies)
The bitch ran off with my spellbook!
The magic was gone.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 11:04, 3 replies)
It's been a long time coming.
It's been so long that I can't even remember who introduced us, most likely a friend of a friend, or even a casual acquaintance that I probably no longer keep in touch with. At first I was completely enchanted by you. I was a bit shy (still am), so I didn't speak much, just listened and learned and laughed.

You introduced me to some new friends, and I was endlessly entertained, sometimes to the point of laughing so hard my stomach would ache for days.

I didn't notice when the shine started to disappear. We were drifting apart, and I admit I was slowly, bit by bit, paying a lot less attention than I had in the beginning. It finally got to the point where I didn't even see you anymore, just popped in once a week to find out anything important. I don't think you even noticed I wasn't around.

It wasn't just me though. You slowly started to have less and less to say. The stories you told were beginning to sound like the stories you told before, with a thin coat of difference. Not enough to fool anybody, but it seemed to fool yourself. It got to the point where you weren't even trying to change them anymore, just saying "Remember that story I told way back then? Yeah. That." and that was the end of it. You barely brought forth a chuckle anymore, and nothing like the full belly laughs you used to give me.

But I'm still trying. I think our relationship can be saved. I'm begging, qotw. Please. We've both got to try to make this work.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 21:21, 5 replies)
Whisper softly in my ear, say the words I dread to hear....
Doesn't involve me directly but worth a mench, I think - yrsnyrs ago there was a girl living - or regularly visiting her boyfriend - somewhere up the road from me who had a healthy horizontal appetite, and who was LOUD. Seriously, crockery rattlingly, stuff your ears with cotton wool, turn on the radio and stick the pillow over your head loud. Her other half was clearly either extremely talented, or had a jazz cucumber that should have been reclassified as a marrow. So,you get the idea. Loud.

Anyway, after a few weeks of this, and after the usual nightime broadcast of groans, screams, wails etc, she yells out "I LOVE YOU". This was followed by complete utter silence. Never heard a thing again.

Struck me as quite sad.....
(, Mon 25 Oct 2010, 17:54, 5 replies)
Could it be magic? No. No it couldn't.
He was a friend of a friend of a friend, he was from out of town, he was older than me, he was oh-so-cool and oh my god he fancied me! I was absolutely besotted with him. I must admit, at the age of 22, I was still a little (ok…a lot) wet behind the ears. I’d only ever had long term boyfriends the same age as me and I wasn’t, and still aren’t, the kind of woman who can treat sex and feelings as separate. I fell head over heels for him but he was after an easy shag and knew just how to keep me hooked.

After about 6 months I realised that I didn’t really like the headspace I was in when it came to dealing with him, and I also realised that he was a little bit of a headcase. So, in a moment of strength and clarity, I decided to get rid. Unfortunately, this revelation coincided with me getting my very first place. Being a sofa surfer of no fixed abode, he realised that he loved me and wouldn’t it be a great idea if he moved in with me so we could both save money. Sucker over here fell for it hook, line and sinker.

Within weeks, the magic had well and truly buggered off. I had two jobs because he refused to pay for anything. While I was at my second job, being on my feet for 15 hours a day, he would have people round until 3 in the morning. My flat is a studio flat, bedroom and living room all one room, and I wasn’t allowed to go to bed as people would want drinks and food and I was the one who had to play waitress. If I asked if people could leave so I could go to sleep I would have the piss ripped out of me mercilessly. Nastily. He very quickly, but very subtly, got textbook abusive. This is where I thought I was too wise to get caught up in something like that. I’d read stories about domestic abuse victims, I’d donate to the charities, I was aware of all the tricks the abusers use, but I still fell for it all and I don’t understand how. I never thought I would. I thought I was stronger than that. I never thought it would be me.

Everytime I’d speak he’d pick apart the things I’d say or make fun of imagined speech impediments. Near the end, I barely spoke. If I asked him to contribute to the finances he’d start yelling and screaming about how I was trying to wreck his life. If I asked him to pack up and leave, he’d refuse. If I wanted to get out of the flat to get some air he wouldn’t let me. He would lock and barricade the doors and wouldn’t let me leave. I was terrified. There was nothing I could do. It very quickly turned physical. At first, inanimate objects got the brunt of his rage. My coffee table, chest of drawers and shelving unit all got turned in to kindling. There are still holes on the doors and walls where he’d throw punches or things. Then I was the target. It was just grappling at first; he’d grab me and throw me about. One time, he spat at me. I came over all bold and told him if he did it again I’d slap him. So he hocked up a loogie all over my face. I slapped him. He grabbed me and forced me to the floor with one hand squeezing my neck, his knee on my chest pinning me down, the other hand pulling back and punching the floor closer and closer to my head, all while he screamed in my face about how useless, stupid, annoying, worthless I was. I’d scrunch my eyes shut and beg him to stop, while trying to pretend it wasn’t happening. That was his favourite way of grinding me down. It was almost every day. There didn’t seem to be a ‘trigger’. It didn’t matter if I was nice or mean, if I stood up to him or turned into a passive idiot, I’d get a beating. I’m only a skinny thing and another of his favourite tricks was to grab my forearms near my elbows and grind the bones. He was very strong. It hurt like hell. Near the end of the ‘relationship’ and during another of his rages he had me by the arms, had backed me into a corner and was calmly telling me how stupid I was. He’d never been calm before. Perhaps he was just messing about this time. I tried appealing to him, told him he was really really hurting me and he was going to break my arms if he carried on. He smiled. And squeezed harder. I asked him to let go again. Nope, squeezed harder still. That smile terrified me. He actually thought it was funny. He was enjoying it. So, I thought to myself, this is getting tough now; you have to get out of this. Kick him in the balls, and when he lets go, scarper. I kneed him in the balls, I put everything in to it so fucking hard, and went to pull away but he pulled me back and kicked me in the stomach. Even when his balls must have obviously been screaming at him, he had the piece of mind to take a step back so he could get a good run up. I dropped like a sack of spuds while he stood over yelling about how I was going to have to take him to hospital because he balls were swelling up.

Not long after that last incident, about 7 months after he moved in, I again asked him to leave. And he did. It was like something clicked in his crazy, crazy mind and he quietly packed up his stuff and left. The relief was unbelievable. I found out afterwards that he had routinely beaten his ex-wife quite nastily, and he had proper mental problems although I never found out what they were. I was so angry for so long afterwards. At everyone and everything. I was angry at myself for being such an idiot. Such an unbelievable fucking idiot. Why did I put up with it? For so long? Why the fucking hell was I so infatuated with him?! Why didn’t I turn to anyone for help?! I was angry at his friends for not telling me what he was like. It turned out his friends knew him for the cunt he was and had an idea about what was going on. I was angry at my neighbours when they said in passing that they would hear him going on at me. Why didn’t they help? How could they sit there, with just a wall between us and let that carry on?! God, the anger. It was so explosive. Some of it was justified, some of it wasn’t. And then one day, it just wasn’t there anymore. I had changed. Looking back, I had changed for the worse. I was cynical, pessimistic, empty. Looking back, I really should have gotten help. I never realised at the time (you never do though, do you), just how much of a pit I was in, and just how close I was to falling off the tightrope.

Luckily, everything turned out for the best. I got over it, got my life back on track and everything is looking better and better.

I wittered on for quite a while there, didn’t I? Sorry about that. If you know, or have an inkling that someone is being abused please help them. Please don’t turn a blind eye. You’ll probably (rightly, to be fair) think that it’s none of your business and/or you don’t want to be involved, and they will most likely tell you they don’t want the help. There’s nothing you can do but be there. It means the world.
(, Mon 25 Oct 2010, 16:54, 20 replies)
I used to work as an electrician for P&O ferries
out of boredom I replaced all the electrically operated switches on all their ferries with dog poo.

Man, those were some crappy relays on ships.
(, Thu 21 Oct 2010, 12:49, 4 replies)
Not me but...
A family member complained to the folk living in the flat above them that their noisy daytime romps were playing havoc with her sleep (shift worker). The husband chose that moment to explain..."but I'm not home during the day!"

The same could not be said for his wife. I believe that may have triggered some relationship issues.
(, Mon 25 Oct 2010, 18:12, 4 replies)
Tore my heart out & showed me, Mola Ram style.
1st time poster,long-time lurker so be gentle - unlike the whorebag to be mentioned.
I was young, naive & overlooked OCD (3hrs to choose a shade of red paint? No, that's normal darling...isn't it?) and haughty disdain because she was way above my usual gfs/random shags. And no, alarms didn't ring at why such an attractive woman would be single.
A lot.
Shall I mention spending weekends at hers (still living at home at this point, early twenties), arriving on a Friday evening and being told Saturday afternoon I had to leave as "I was in the way and you stop me doing stuff I need to do because you're so fucking slow at walking and just want to hang out all day".

Er..I thought that's what couples did? Aaaaanyways...I got screamed at for not spending the weekend at her flat looking after her new kitten when I was supposed to be recording with my band (was ok for her to go out with her mates though). Was ordered home Saturday afternoons as mention, until she started acting lessons across London and needed somebody to ferry her to and fro. Suddenly I'm allowed to stay the whole weekend. Or drive her up to Manchester so she could buy a motorbike.

It slowly dragged on for about 18months with me unable to see I was a weak-willed doormat of a chap and she was a domineering uncaring witchfuck. The clincher?
A friend she used to work with that she had never spoken of before invited her to Washington DC for the weekend to see his new place that came with his new job.
I wasn't invited at all, "because you couldn't afford the flight" apparently. Steaming angry at myself for putting up with this treatment, I agreed to pick her up when she got back.
Except she wasn't on the return flight. Came back 3 days later and told me I had no right to be upset as "nothing happened anyway".

Huge row, I was starting to finally stand up for myself and she was shocked I had actually got upset at last.
And 3 days later was her work xmas party.
I got to look after her kitten as she went off and got drunk and stayed in a hotel. Phone rings at 4am, and it's her sister in another country far,far away asking to speak to her.
Turned out her dad had died a few hours before and the task of telling her fell to me. But I didn't know where she was staying, she didnt think it mattered that I knew because it was her work party and no I wasn't invited as I "wouldn't enjoy it".

And now the hard part - I tracked her down and had to drive out to the hotel (near the seaside) to break the news her father had died during the night. Her boss tells me the room number (he knows as I spoke to him to get directions) and I head up, knocking on the door thinking how-the-fuck-do-I-tell-her?
Door opens...can you guess?...and bloke blinking hungover at me says sure she's there but sleeping, can I come back later?
18months of being ordered around, cheated on and emotionally assfucked came spilling out, all mixed in with self loathing at putting up with her shit.
"Ok mate" I say, shaking with adrenalin,"Tell her...ah...her sister rang, her dad died last night. And tell her she's a fucking bully and I should have grown a pair of balls ages ago. She needs to get to the airport as soon as possible, it's not my fucking problem anymore."
Bloke was dumbstruck, I exhaled like a freediver surfacing after 4mins and walked away.

Does it make me a bad person for not giving a fuck if she was ok? I know I was a pussy for putting up with many,many instances of being trodden on. Like I said, I was young (an old bastard of 38 now) and stupid, blinded by norks etc etc.
Never spoke to her again after leaving that hotel and genuinely don't give a flying toss if she was ok.

Apols for length of 1st post and lack of funnies.
Have had many shit relationships since, some good ones and am now quite cheerfully ensconded with Missus & Mini Blast.
And if *you* read this, I know it's been over 15yrs and a lot of water has passed.
I still hope you cried yourself dry on the plane over to bury your dad, you horrible horrible harpy.
(, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 14:37, 27 replies)
When I got this answer phone message:
“Hey...er... oh I’d hoped to speak to you but you must be in work... Sorry to leave this message. Well, erm... remember I called you last night? And I was a bit drunk? Well I sort of got a lot more drunk. And I lost my friends.... but I got a lift home from these three random guys. Erm... well I thought they were a taxi and one of them had really cute eyes so I let him shag me on the back seat... and then then I kind of drunkenly figured that the other two would feel left out so I let them shag me too. Anyway, to cut a long story short, I felt really guilty this morning so I went to see my ex-ex-boyfriend.... and I’ve sort of shagged him too. Erm. Sorry?”
(, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 12:53, 24 replies)
Mrs Legless

My phone is set-up with custom ring-tones assigned to various people. For example, one bloke, who only rings me when he has a problem, is set to Yoda saying "A message from the darkside there is..." A hospital I do a lot of work for is the theme from Holby City. You get the idea.

But I can't help thinking that the missus would be justified in giving me the boot as I've changed her ringtone from Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" to the much better "They're Taking The Hobbits To Isenguard"

Who says romance is dead?


P.S. Mrs Legless is just under 5 feet tall

(, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 1:21, 6 replies)
mad sam
i once foolishly started dating a girl based on the fact she had big blue eyes, perky tits and wanted to choke down mym hog right there in the club.
warning signs i ignored..
1: saying 'i love you' when she left in the morning.

really, it shouldn't have gone further, but i was somewhat delusional on the old party prescriptionds at the time, and a bit emotionally spannered from the last nutjob (whole epic coming soon)

2: turning up unannounced that night with a bag saying she was staying for a couple of days- (my brain was going 'hang on' but my penis was going 'listen fucker, it's been six months, you fuck this up i'll assfuck you while you sleep so help me GOD')

3: constant, needy text messages. i mean every ten minutes or sooner, until i'd fall asleep then there's be a dozen waiting in the AM.

4: introducing me to her parents as her 'fiance' after a week and a half- both her parents gave me a look which, in hindsight, said 'JUST FUCKING RUUUUNNNNNN!!!!!'

5: this was the grand finale. i had to work late. she decided i was seeing another girl. i rang her from work and said 'call this number, see who answers and how' sure enough- through to switchboard. she's having none of it, turns up at my work. i come out, she's having none of it, i'm screwing someone in the warehouse. fuck this, back inside. she storms off screaming crying and gibbering.
goes very quiet.
turns up the next day a bit subdued, i think fuck it, might as well dump my nuts again. afterwards, she goes for a shower, comes back crying, tells me she was so angry last night she went and got spitroasted by her two horrible skaggy chav mates in a squat. wonderful! so, without further ado, i tell her to GTFO and not come back.
she spazzes the fuck out, screaming, hitting me, refusing to leave. i call her parents, they tell me good luck, i'm on my own.
finally, with the help of a housemate and his gf, bundle her into the girl's car, drive her at top speed, while having to physically restrain her crazy screaming ass to her house, where she promptly leaps out the car door, sprints across the road into the dark. off we drive, all is well until about an hour later when her dad calls me to say it's ok, they've found her, she was sitting inside the fencing of one of those electrical substation box things screaming obscenities.

total time of dating- two.fucking.weeks.

mad bint. and you know what? literally about four years later i see her in a local club. i ignore her, then i'm at the bar with my girlfriend at the time, and her big fat mate comes bumbling up, pushes my girl aside, and says to me 'SAM LOVES YOU WHY ARE YOU IGNORING HER?!?!
i said 'well, considering we left it as her fucking two dudes because i had to work late, and me dumping her, i feel that's the best way.'

later she cornered my gf in the toilet and told her a bag of lies that i was sleeping with her, we were engaged etc.. even gave her dates, one of which was when my gf and i were at a gig in london.
Reading breeds mad bitches.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 14:11, 15 replies)
My Mom told me after my dad died years ago.....
"Sure, your dad and I fought a lot, but there's no one else I'd rather have fought with."

Remembering this has cured me of the "grass is greener" syndrome many a times.
(, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 23:37, 4 replies)
The worst relationship I ever had to suffer
was a many-to-many. I used non-integer primary keys with different names, the field names didn't match the column headings and don't get me started on the inner joins. Glad I gave up on that one.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 15:00, 7 replies)
The way I dumped my ex was pretty crappy
I said to her "You know how I told you that being with me would be like a rollercoaster? Well, there's a weight restriction"
(, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 8:29, 15 replies)
Even though she was using me, there was always magic.
She'd turn up from time to time and she knew how I felt about her, but her child-minding job meant she was often away. We'd go for walks together and all sorts of adventures, but it just never really went anywhere. The point I realised it wasn't going to happen was at a cafe. I'd just told her how no-one I knew compared to her and she told me how she loved how I never tried anything on with her and that she always felt safe around me.
The last I saw of her was when she flew out of London. I looked up at her and managed a smile, then carried on with my street art.
It all worked out for me in the end, as I started a sucessful medical career in California and my son became a police detective.
But I still miss her.
Don't be too long, Mary Poppins.
(, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 12:10, 2 replies)
She got a puncture

(, Thu 21 Oct 2010, 21:31, 3 replies)
My nephew
He's an absolute arsehole, impetuous, aggressive, empty head full of stupid ideas and BOY does he NOT know how to pick a fight with someone his own size. The number of times I've had to drag him away from a fight with someone many times his size... He also thinks he can drive despite the fact he's not even old enough to own a driving licence. As if that wasn't enough he has a range of annoying catchphrases, something asinine about 'Puppy Power'

signed, Scooby Doo.

(Oh sorry, i thought you said 'Scrappy relationships')
(, Thu 21 Oct 2010, 19:49, Reply)
After another horrible night out ending in an argument
my girlfriend at the time made me sleep on the floor.

I was later awoken by her crouching over me doing a wee on my head in her sleep.

This made me realise that somewhere deep in her subconscious she really hated me. Walked home with wee wee dripping down my face (possibly mixed with tears) and never saw her again!
(, Thu 21 Oct 2010, 17:14, 8 replies)
I had a major operation on my leg (see Blood QOTW in profile)
I was in hospital for a while and every day my girlfriend would come and visit me, tell me how much she missed me and how she couldn't wait for me to get home.

On the day I was due to go home she came to the hospital and we went home. I went in the house and she didn't. I've seen her maybe twice since just in passing in the street. She had moved everything out whilst I had been in hospital. I was on crutches with leg in full length plaster. If I cooked a meal I didn't even have anyone to carry it in to a different room so I had to eat at the cooker every day. The stupid cow had also put a rug down on the kitchen floor. The slick lino kitchen floor. As soon as the crutches hit it I went flying across the kitchen and earned myself a trip back to the hospital I had only just left.

I never got any explanation as to why she walked out.
(, Thu 21 Oct 2010, 14:49, 4 replies)
Ok, it's Thursday & not many people will see this...
I've refrained from posting this week because there's been plenty of stories of the type I have about some of my exes... and with Jess the magic's never going to go, it'll always be in my mind.

I just have to get on my soapbox for a minute though: please, people - if you're with someone who's making you unhappy, do something about it! I could have still been with my wife if I'd tried to stick at it and make it work like everyone was telling me... never in my life has someone made me so miserable, so after trying some marriage guidance counselling (which Jess convinced me to try) and realising it was never going to work, I bit the bullet and left.

That doesn't make me a big man, or better than someone who would still be there, but it did mean that I ended up with someone who made me happier than I've ever been in my life... and then sadder than I've ever been, but that wasn't her fault.

If someone offered me the chance to go back & have forever after plodding along with my wife & being sort of okay sometimes, or repeat what I did, I'd take the repeat, even knowing the absolute heartbreak that it ended with.

And before anyone points it out, yes I know that for lots of people it's not as simple as I've made out... but "doing something about it" doesn't have to mean leaving, it could just be sitting down and having A TALK.

Lots of love to you all,
Prof KM xx
(, Thu 28 Oct 2010, 10:08, 6 replies)
To all the girls I've loved before...
You, who pretended to be a Christian when I got too horny at age 16, thanks – I still remember the taste of you. And you who, while going out with me, was seeing the biker you eventually married – I hope you didn't get cheated on too. And you, you dear old nutter, who dumped and reclaimed me three times before I finally got wise, I hope you made something of your art and are not now working in a prison. Oh, you are? Shame. And as for you, you drunken wretch – I hope you regret nearly blinding me in an argument about whether listening to reggae is racist if you aren't black. For fuck's sake. Did you eventually get yourself a black man? I hope so, and I hope you kicked the drink. Or died. And as for you, love of my life, when you finally get over your problems (because you will) and realise you were incredibly cruel to the man who loved you more than any other for 10 years – I hope you don't regret it too much, and find someone else really nice. Me, I'm okay, and settled with a splendid woman who is probably not psychotic and hopefully appreciates the man I've learned to become through endless, wonderful love and war. Bless you all. (Sorry, I haven't invented a new term for breasts yet. Bear with me, I'm new). Cock.
(, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 13:04, 32 replies)
When it began, it was like a fairytale romance. We only had a short time together where we could really be ourselves, but it was magical. We'd hold hands, look into each other's eyes, she even told me she wanted to marry me.

Then she told me she'd held hands with 3 other boys in the playground that morning. So I dumped her and went on the slide instead.

(, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 12:39, 6 replies)
The break up orgasm
At 18 years old, I had moved out of home and had my first boyfriend. Three months in and I thought things were going fine. One summery, late afternoon we are having (what I thought was) a great shag.

Chris Brown - stroke in - "Um, I really enjoy this with you"
Me - stroke out - "Yeah, baby, loving it"
Chris Brown - stroke in - "I need to tell you something"
Me - stroke out - "AAAAH, bout to 'splode"
Chris Brown - stroke in, stroke out, stroke in - "I am definitely in love with my ex and can't do this anymore"
Me - with ankles around the neck and wrinkly eyebrows clashing badly with an O face - "???".

Chris Brown, the music died that day.
(, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 10:58, 14 replies)

When she screamed and bled unexpectedly while I sawed her in half, I knew the magic was gone.
(, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 19:13, Reply)
Hmm why
I have a number of reasons why the relationship failed.

1. He was a bit of a celebrity and had come from a wealthy family so he always was away mingling with people or photographed flirting with women much better looking than me. Naturally I was bound to get a little jealous.

2. The mood swings, when he wasn’t looking like an airhead in front of the press he could go from charming to broody in the company of certain mates of his.

3. The anger was also an issue, he never raised a hand to me but I once saw him beat the living crap out of a bloke who was dancing with me (True I wasn’t too happy with the creep who was swinging me round but he really did a number on the poor sod).

4. The lack of time we actually managed to spend together he was either out most nights (I think we only managed to see him a number of times in our last month together).

5. The issue he had with his parents, Jesus the number of times he went on about his mum and dad really did start to grate on me, maybe I’m just a little jealous because I am not really close to my folks (They hated their daughter working for a newspaper)

6. The kinky shit he was into. Man I thought that I was a bit risqué but this guy really went to town on the whole PVC stuff and not just in the bedroom!

Better leave it for that now as he probably will find out about this and be pissed. He is the world’s greatest detective you know.Love Vicki Vale
(, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 15:16, 3 replies)
First love.
When I was eight, I bought her polos to prove my devotion. She took them, ate them and stole mine too.
She then went and kissed another boy! With fresh, minty breath that was mine by right! The minty jezebel!
Snakes with tits, I tells ya.
(, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 12:17, 12 replies)
A tale of two crappy relationships?
I will admit that this is pretty epic and may not put me in a good light but it is the way it happened and I’m not too bothered about your opinion I have made my mistakes and can live with them. Flame away if you want I can take it, I’m always prepared for the worst.

I started to become attracted to S quite a while back, she was great, funny and seemed to get along with me pretty well. The only downside was that she worked for me and was also in a pretty long term thing with an acquaintance I shall call T.

T was a bloke who was the polar opposite of me, we had been mates at one point but had really drifted apart (hence why I called him an acquaintance earlier). By this point in my life I valued my career and took a mature and businesslike approach to most things he would spend his time reading comics or playing with his toys (Collectable figurines was a name he liked to give them but really they were sodding kids toys) – he also had no real aims in life and seemed to just bumble along doing bugger all.

One night S was working late with me and she mentioned that she was having problems at home and was getting sick of him being immature and she was slowly falling for another bloke. To cut this epic tale short that bloke was me, we started off with an affair that eventually led to her asking me to start a proper relationship with her. What I didn’t realise was the nutter that T was hiding behind his slacker demeanour.

Firstly he set himself up in a house with another woman, and attempted to get S back. The thought of living without S seemed to have unhinged him a little as the next time we met ended with me in the back of an ambulance with my knackers in extreme pain. I also had my car vandalized and was beaten up thanks to him. A few months later and he appeared to move on, but what I didn’t realise was that I should have paid attention to S.

This woman who ditched her bloke for a more mature man had decided that I wasn’t really what she wanted and ditched me too. It turns out that the whole time I had been seeing her she had been also leading T on with false hopes of getting back together sending him letters and calling him on the telephone. S had enjoyed the attention she received from him. and the vain bitch was also pretty jealous that T had moved straight in with another woman.

Anywhoo T must have seen sense in his time away and told S to sod off (rumour has it that he started into a relationship with the lass he was shacked up with and had a daughter that he tried to call Luke, hope that this isn’t true that’s a horrid name for a girl). As she was left with no other person to feed her ego S decided to come crawling back to me. Naturally I took her back because I love her and you may call me stupid for doing so but I don’t care because I'm Duane Benzie.

Gotta go, the telephones ringing.

Usual apologies for length and deep voice.
(, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 9:22, 6 replies)

This question is now closed.

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