Worst hangover ever
Split up with a girl many years ago, had a break up shag, got heartily drunk, fell asleep (with her).

Woke up, felt immensely ill and vomited out of her window. Went back to sleep. Got woke up by her 'ex/current boyfriend (the morning AFTER FFS) offering me fried eggs. Ran out of the bedroom downstairs to the bathroom and was crudely sick all in the bath. Then had to get three trains home, with my throat like raw meat after ejecting vast quantities of snakebite and stomach acid outwards, feeling like hell. Funnily enough she didn't give me a goodbye kiss.

Meh.
(mr-lizard Hell's teeth man!, Sat 23 Oct 2010, 16:29, 3 replies)

Jesus
You guys have hooked up with some right nutters.

Luckily for me, my mum's a paranoid schizophrenic. To summarize what it's about, imagine someone who believes they are the very centre of the universe, and that universe and everybody it has one concern, to make them miserable.

Being brought up with this nonsense has given me a finely tuned loony sensor. It's been a foolproof method of only shacking up with self contained well balanced women. I avoid anyone who reminds me in any way of my dear mother.
( Ring Of Fire A petty, drooling belming butthurt retard., Sat 23 Oct 2010, 9:44, 4 replies)

Fatal Attraction without the bunnies or the hot sex.
(edited to get to the point and answer the question)...

(after a very odd sequence of events over several months..)

She seems to be either very drunk or has taken something. Her (male) work colleague who has brought her home is nearly in tears. Suddenly she is naked with a knife, bath overflowing with water running down the walls, chasing me to kill me/and or herself because 'she needs me'. My mum (there as moral support) calls the police and an ambulance, I am by then outside hiding in an alley. I am of course not 8, but nearer 35.

Ambulance arrives, she is eventually sectioned.

so, in a nutshell, that is when I decided it was over. The magic had definitely gone.

But of course it didn't end there. But that's for another question (perhaps-what's the worst time you've had to get rid of someone you didn't want to be with)?
(johnl tinga, Sat 23 Oct 2010, 9:16, 1 reply)

Back when I was young and naïve,
at the tender age of 16, I was somewhat unfamiliar to the whole relationship caper. It seemed pretty exotic and desirable to me, so I blundered into this rotten business the only way a socially isolated faggot from the suburbs knew how to: the internet!

At the behest of a friend, I signed up to a website whose intended purpose was to help young homos find friends and feel a little less strange/suicidal. The problem with this was that it had an upper-bound in terms of members' ages of 25, which made for some pretty unpleasant conversation.

Too nice to say no, I wound up talking to a 23-year-old who seemed a little eager to meet me. I could have taken that as a warning sign, but I was pretty stupid back then. Eventually phone numbers were exchanged and it just got so fucking weird.

Constantly, he'd be calling. Not to say anything, either. Just to talk about whatever stupid minutiae he had on his mind. But I was a little flattered, to have all this attention being paid to me. It was only natural that we soon met to go see a film or something similar.

Anyway, cutting all that short, after making me walk out of the film, he insisted that I return to his place so he could show me his turntables or some other shit like that, so I went. Not 3 seconds after getting inside, he wants to get down and dirty. So, we did. And it was alright by me, not being either a virgin or a prude. What really bothered me came later, when he insisted that I couldn't leave...and that when I tried to, he stopped me from doing so.

Still being a fucking moron, I let this crap relationship form, which basically consisted of him getting me exceptionally drunk, possibly also spiking said drinks, and accusing me of infidelity, to the point that he forbade me to talk with any males apart from him. This, while he saw no imbalance with going out to clubs and so on any and all nights of the week.

After a few months of emotional abuse, I was able to break free. Sort of. Calls didn't stop, for example, and if I answered I'd have to deal with a whole world of grief about how I was killing him. Lies weren't out of the question, with him dragging out that old stand by for insane rejects, "I have cancer."

There isn't really a happy resolution to all of this. With hindsight, I blame myself a fair bit for it all ever happening. Eventually he gave up on the stalking front, though I know have a healthy distrust of Mancunian accents.

Length and apologies and stuff.
( Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Sat 23 Oct 2010, 7:45, 6 replies)

Friend of mine (no really)
Got married in August last year.
Was talking about the married man she was having an affair with by October.
Tried to commit suicide in January.
Was surprised when her husband of five months left her weeks later.
Got pregnant by the married man in March.
Had a threatening phone call from his wife and hasn't seen him since.
Is due in December: and having another affair with yet another married man - and I don't know how best to tell her she's an idiot.
(Mrs Trellis GIN, Sat 23 Oct 2010, 0:34, 13 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.
(ladydyani, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 21:21, 5 replies)

Last year on holiday
Not our relationship....but....

Me and Ms. Dchurch went to Greece last year for a holiday.
At the start of the holiday there was a couple in the room next to us who quite frankly could not shut the fuck up. Constant rows. Constant shouting. In the end it was starting to piss me off, when an almighty row erupted which pretty much the whole hotel was privy to.
Apparently, the bloke in this relationship had an affair and this holiday was their way of trying to patch things up. The row got more and more violent, and louder and louder as they both tried to shout above each other.
Then, as quickly as the row started, it went silent.

The next night, the pair of them were at the bar in the hotel. One at one end, the other at the other end; the woman now sporting a massive shiner.

To be honest, it wouldn't have matter where these two went to 'patch up their relationship' it was long dead, and if you're going to argue that much, you have to ask yourselves if it's really worth trying surely?

True, she got on my tits with her melodramatic crap and hoarse screaming, but a belter to the eye?
(dchurch bah, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 20:46, 11 replies)

The Wedding Dress Psycho
Sadly, the main story here is not one I've suffered but of a co-worker who seems to get all the psychos and stupidly tells everyone about them. We'll call him Mark.

Mark had broken up with his ex, and after getting police involved after she ran off with the keys and mortgage documents he was finally a happy single man.
So off Mark went and seemed to find himself a nice lady called Helen who from the offset was reported as being quite the normal kind of girl you'd expect, and even better that she was happy to suck face at the cinema.

However, as these things do when you seem to have a sign saying 'Psychos Apply Within' above you, things started getting interesting. By interesting, I mean her going into psychotic stalker mode.
At barely 4 weeks she was suddenly declaring that she loved him, but not only that but she would text and call him constantly and never leave him alone. So much that she'd often just pull up outside his house and watch to see what he was doing or invite all her mates round at a whim on a night out to get pissed and sleep over.
So the stalking continued, with him starting to lie about where he is and just trying to get some distance and get away until it seemed to peak one night in a text message declaring her love.
She then admits to Mark that she has a wedding dress. Now if this wasn't scary enough for about 4 weeks, she then tells Mark in the same txt that she also got it out of the cupboard and lost it. Lets be clear - she got (we assume) a big white dress out of her cupboard in her house or flat and it suddenly disappeared. Gone. No where to be seen. Not something you can normally misplace, like car keys and things. But a bloody wedding dress.

Summing up what he'd just been told, Mark decided the best thing to do was get the hell out of his house shortly after advising her she needs professional help. The problem was that she was sitting right outside his front door he was feeling a bit trapped. So after carefully retrieving his shoes from the landing where she could have caught a glimpse. He then proceeded to climb out a back window on the 1st floor, hang from the ledge while closing the window (he didn't want to give her any chance to get in) and then drop to the ground below and make his way to the pub unseen for food, pint and footy relief.

On getting back and reading the barrage of messages she had sent, she was desperate to get into his house and to be with him so she used the old 'forgot my... whatever' scam I'm sure we've all heard before. However, due to it being a rough area and Mark having CCTV at his house, he caught her in full colour dropping her 'lost' necklace through his kitchen window that had the slim top bit left open. Realising he wasn't going to come back, even with her offering lifts to wherever he was (I believe he said at his parents at the other end of the country!), she is then revealed to have tried using a long handled brush to get it back but fails miserably and causes a massive mess.

After all this, it took a call to Mark’s friend who was a copper, who was happy to go around give her the mean looks and stern words enough for her to stop completely and Mark has not heard from her since. However, we will never forget that wedding dress, and how it was taken out of her cupboard and lost forever....

First post, apologies for length!
(MinkyStoatyMoaty likes a good sniff, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 19:50, 1 reply)

married
by four months, he started an affair
by the 1st anniversary he told her he loved her
The second anniversary felt like a hard won thing. We had chips in a car park.
Divorced by the 3rd anniversary

When porn and ugly bints who live 150 miles away were more interest to him than me, I think it was doomed.

and because he was a compulsive liar

Worst 'one night stand' EVER!
( Citizen Cavy Admires your passion for conformity, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 18:13, 2 replies)

When he started sticking it into that new blonde assistant.




Jacqueline Skipworth
(Clerk T Hazarde are all the wine, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 18:09, Reply)

No Match For The Hora
Her: Listen, it's going be every weekend now. I'm going to travel to San Francisco every weekend to do Israeli Folk Dancing.

Me: Why every weekend? You won't like it. They've got traffic jams there. They've got crazy people. They've got Arabs.

Her: EVERY weekend....
(Perv With A Dog had his eyes pecked out by scrub jays on, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 17:59, Reply)

Where to start?
I was engaged to a guy; he'd been my first proper boyfriend, I thought I had to marry him, for some strange reason. I don't think that now of course.

So many things signalled it was over....

Farting - This one was probably the biggest clue. In bed:
"Can I ask you something? It sounds a bit disgusting, but... can I fart in bed?"
"What? NO!"
"Please"
"What? The bathroom is just over there"
"Can't I just... stick my arse out of bed? Oh please, I really need to"

Either go ahead and do it anyway, make it manly and loud, make it comic, a resonant basso profundo! Make the bed vibrate! Overcome me with your fumes!
OR
If you're going to be all polite about it, go to the fucking bathroom and do it there.
Do not *whine* or *beg* to get my permission
( Peapod Has returned to the fold on, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 17:23, 18 replies)

bella
my relationship with bella was an odd one. i'd known her since she was a baby and, although i was not overly fond of her, i didn't actively dislike her.
when her family was moving house, she came to stay with me for a week until the move was completed, as she had nowhere else to go. after 2 weeks, i phoned her family, who basically told me that she was my problem now, they didn't want her back.
what could i do? i couldn't just throw her out onto the streets, so i let her continue sleeping on my couch.
after a while, we started enjoying each other's company, snuggling up together to watch telly, sharing the odd bag of quavers(she loves quavers), just getting really comfortable with each other.
her behaviour soon started to change, though. she started staying out all night, then waking me up at 7a.m to let her in. there was no point giving her a key, she'd never use it. she never paid for food, but ate plenty of what i paid for.
i knew the magic was gone when, one sunny day, i walked into the living room to find she'd brought a bird in to the house. i don't know what they'd been up to, but this bird had bled on my couch.
i was not happy.
bella's stuff was soon packed up(she'd never do it herself) and she was packed off to live somewhere else.

i'm never offering to look after anyone's cat again!
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 17:14, 6 replies)

The worst possible line to a lovesick college boy
"I think of you as a brother."

This was after her friends left her an apartment for two weeks (they honeymooned) and we played house. We left technical virgins, but she was the first woman I literally slept with overnight and did certain other things with.

Because I was lovesick and hopeful, I didn't say what went through my mind (and I should have):

"You obviously come from a much closer family than I do."
.
(ChiTown Guy Dating when 35+: sane, single, attractive - pick 2, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 17:09, 2 replies)

I've sworn off foreign women for the time being.
my last two relationships (I am US):

Woman from Beijing, an MBA, was supposed to be looking for a job in the US so I could follow her (I am a journalist, so she'd make more money). Turns out that instead of looking for work, she spent all her time online searching for proof that I was cheating and not actually working 50+ hours a week and nights.

So we're fighting, and she begins an actual business presentation of what's wrong with our relationship (me) by showing me online ads without photos that she thought could be me. One guy was 15 years younger and lived an hour west of Chicago, whereas I lived a half hour east -- and he was looking for local girls. She also used a calculator to show me that the weekends we spent together didn't add up to the actual six months we'd been dating.

I walked out before she got to any Powerpoint presentations. She did, however, stalk me later when I was dating:

The Welsh woman now known among my friends as the English Mental Patient (she'd been court ordered by the divorce court she was going through in Chicago to get psychiatric help -- before and after I was with her -- for a suicide attempt on the eve of the divorce and then her attitude after I left).

I knew it was over when I unexpectedly showed to her apartment after she got off work, and she didn't answer the doorbell, then when I phoned her, it took her 15 minutes to come to the door and get me. She usually just buzzed me up.

Oh, and she was leaving on a day trip the next day with a singing group to Wisconsin, but she didn't want me to meet them and the only man with them didn't show while I dropped her off and was waiting a bit to make sure she was safe.

On the brighter side, a woman asked me to a play tonight. She's a US citizen of Swedish extraction named Olga. And she's a nurse.
(ChiTown Guy Dating when 35+: sane, single, attractive - pick 2, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 17:02, 7 replies)

Postcards from planet mad, part 2
So we'd split up, and I was getting on with my life. She'd immediately got pregnant, and moved in with the lucky guy.

Out of the blue, I get a phone call from her. She's distraught, weeping and wailing, and talking about suicide. I decide I have to get over there; I still care about her, even if I wouldn't touch her with yours, now.

So I shoot over on my motorcycle, as fast as I can, run up the steps, and ring the bell.

Nothing. Nada. Silence.

I bang on the door, call through the letter box; still nothing. I'm getting really worried now, imagining her lying in a pool of blood on the floor, or dangling from the light fitting. I begin eying the window, and wondering if I can make it onto the window ledge without dropping three metres into the basement or impaling myself on the iron railings.

Then I catch a movement in the basement window. It's her! I attract her attention, and she comes to the front door.

"Hello," She says, looking puzzled, "What are you doing here?"

Mad bitch had completely forgotten about the suicidal phone call, all of twenty minutes ago.

.
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 16:38, 3 replies)

It was obviously a bad idea from the start
But one day, my GF and i were walking somewhere and bored. One of us (i can't remember) suggested that we rate each other for certain categories, a la Top Trumps. A short while later it was decided that the categories would be:

Looks
Body
Intelligence
Personality

I gave the GF pretty good marks all round, with excellent marks for "Body" and "personality" (well, you've got to, right?).
I was pleasantly surprised by the marks i got for my physical attributes. I am not particularly modest but would never have scored myself 9s for looks and body. She then, in all honesty, scored me a 3 for personality. A 3. Not even a 5, as in "i don't particularly like your personality, but i appreciate less than 5 could be quite insulting". Just a straight 3.

She still married me though, and still is married to me. Thank Darwin for shallow women!
( 100% Cock Raw like carrots., Fri 22 Oct 2010, 16:21, 2 replies)

Similar so many other stories here, my first girlfriend I had to dump when I found out that she'd been
Showing off her fanny behind the garages for 5p a shot.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 16:03, 5 replies)

Choices
You can chose your friends, but not your relatives.
(uncle_bud is not the jelly roll king., Fri 22 Oct 2010, 16:03, 3 replies)

Lesbians IRL are never as good as you think they should be
The first time I met 'The cow' [names changed to protect me from being sued/pursued] was when I was at Uni and working at a petrol station, weekends, to earn a bit of extra money. she was sweet natured, cheerful and very friendly. we got on like like the proverbial house aflame.

we worked adjacent shifts, so I often took over from her, or she took over from me. as it was the weekend, we rarely saw the boss.

we had a flirty thing going on, nothing serious, but she was coming on to me and I actually liked going into work knowing she would be there to cheer up the beginning or end of my shift.

Long story short, she had only been there about a month before she started nicking goods and cash. for the next few months I was (unknowingly) under suspicion of stealing (we both were) and shortly after that she was sacked.

Now, you'll have to take my word for it, but I never stole anything from that place... not a single £1, not even a tube of smarties.
so it was quite a shock when the cows GIRLFRIEND came and started harassing me at work, to the extent that I had to phone the police to get her out of the place, it was a big shock. The Cow's GF accused me of thieving, and passing it off onto poor innocent Cow. After two weeks of threats, I had to get moved to another petrol station to avoid the cow's GF disrupting business [and scaring the shite out of me]

Lesbians IRL are evil, scary bitches
(essexfriend, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 16:01, 3 replies)

The first love of my life
It was a whirlwind romance, our eyes met across a crowded room, I knew she liked me and she knew I liked her, our friends could talk of nothing else and just like that we were walking hand in hand across fields in an endless summer declaring our love for all the world to know.
We were inseparable, before long we shared our first kiss, one thing led to another and we swapped fluids*

It wasn't meant to last of course and things came to a head when we arranged to meet up in the town park, I bumped into an old friend of mine and turned away from my love for but a second, when I turned back I found to my horror she had stolen the Spokey Dokes off my BMX Burner to fashion a necklace...... fucking bitch.


*I gave her my Ki-ora and she gave me her Robinsons Barley.
(Mr_Smythe, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 15:49, Reply)

We split up because I am a big fat racist
My crime? To be found in posession of white skin whilst remarking that an Asian girl serving us in an Asian bar who spoke no English (or indeed Latin) was lucky that her tattoo read 'carpe diem' and not 'dizzy fat slag' or some such.

This from a lass who wouldn't be seen hand in hand with me in the predominately Asian part of town where her Asian mother lived, for I am a white devil and to be seen on my arm would have earned her the nickname 'dizzy fat slag' or some such.
(gobsh, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 15:28, 4 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.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 15:12, 21 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.
( sandettie light vessel automatic New Twitter - @bollocksreally, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 15:00, 7 replies)

I knew I'd lost the love when...
..the ex who was riding me like a good-un, hops off and goes to stand in the corner of the bedroom to fart*.

Then comes back expecting to resume business. I'd lost all motivation at that point.

Mind you I was seeing the now Mrs Gabber at the time so my heart was never 100% in it anyway.

* At least she had the courtesy to get off before letting rip I suppose.
( Airman Gabber Living life like a 70's BBC presenter, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 14:57, 6 replies)

More on text messages
My friend's next-door neighbour is single, and recently professed an interest after meeting me last year just after her break-up.

When my friend suggested I give her a call I did, but when she then sent me a text an hour later it contained "u", "c", "2nite", "wud", "cud", "txt", and "no" (for "know").

That's when I knew the relationship was over.
(Vice Admiral Sir Charles Cockbrush KCB MBE DSO, who is finding it increasingly difficult to log into b3ta.com wants to duck your aunt and kick your puppy, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 14:38, 5 replies)

A crappy relationship and a top tip all in one..
The ex wife..I was probably standing too close to the problem to see the bigger picture but:

She persistantly tried to turn me into her Dad..a sad depleted specimen married to the most godawful woman known to mankind, more affectionately known to me as "The Ayatollah". This bloke was definitely not wearing the trousers in that marriage.

Would sulk for days over the most trivial of things

And the icing on the cake was telling my Mum to "make an appointment" if she wanted to see our toddler son...(She was too busy playing happy families with her own parents with our son)

So Top Tip peeps: Never Ever have a serious relationship with an only child who has tantrums, domineering parents and seperation anxiety issues from the said parents..

Am I Bitter? Abso-fucking-lutely!

Still on a brighter note, she's seemingly friendless , is 43 years of age and still goes away on holiday with Mummy and Daddy.
(frightfullybored, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 14:34, 4 replies)

The more I read of these stories
The more I think we should post Naked Revenge Photos of the mad women/men featured... especially since the general gist is "he/she was insane, but gorgeous!"

Who's with me?
(moon monkey is busy making memories worth repressing, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 14:16, 11 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?!?!
waht?
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.
(UppityDamnPrimate LET'S OPEN THIS F*CKING PIT UP, Fri 22 Oct 2010, 14:11, 15 replies)