I have a really crap relationship with my dad
Because he's Darth Vader.
(McChinaman banned, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 13:06, 6 replies)

Yeah so anyway this guy at school when he was on tour with the rugby team they went to Thailand and he got off with this prossy only it turned out she was a guy!
LOL!

We never told him 'cos he's a real homophobe and he'd flip out if he found out.

LOL!
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 12:58, 9 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.
( Colonel Boris "...a desperate Buzzfeed imitation...", Wed 27 Oct 2010, 12:10, 2 replies)

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.
(Asser, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 11:44, 16 replies)

Could it be tragic ?
Ex husband - I shoulda known the magic was never there in the first place, but I came out of a very bad relationship and went to him, so I was blinded (hur-hur.) It was definitely gone when I got assaulted a nightclub by someone I had never met before (who was then thrown out, the bouncers told me he was "always up to shit like that" - way to go for not barring him) and when I arrived home in a real state with torn clothes and a split lip, crying hysterically, husband (who had been working that night so not out with me) told me I must have been leading him on. Which was in no way true. Unless passing the time of day with someone who asks if you have a light in a club by telling them you're out with friends but married so just looking to have a nice night with your mates and then being set upon out of nowhere is leading someone on. FWIW a woman who suffered the same at a later date went to the police, got other victims to come forward, and the arsehole was prosecuted. I did also knee him smartly in the wedding vegetables in the process of getting away.
I might have understood or at least expected my husband's reaction if I had cheated on him or gave him cause to think I would do such a thing and then lie about it previously (although the split lip was something most people wouldn't be deliberately getting from a paramour if they were fucking around with someone, I would wager), but at that point in our relationship I hadn't even looked at anyone else, let alone carted on with anyone. He had, however, so I guess it was a guilty conscience talking.

Bf who followed ex husband - I knew the magic was gone when he started leaving his razors upside down on the side of my bathroom sink where he knew I would be putting my hands when looking for my on toiletries. For someone who is virtually blind, this is a bit of an issue, as one feels one's way around for the most part. I got cut more than once, and he kept doing it despite my explanations as to why this was not something I wanted to be happening in my own house (he didn't live there even, just treated it like a hotel). He also deliberately guided me into stuff like waste bins and lampposts, and when I asked him if he could be a touch more careful, he said it wasn't his responsibility to look after me. True enough - but why say "Don't use your guide cane - just take my arm" when we went out then ? As it kept happening (I know not everyone is a good guide, and accidents do happen, so I gave him the benefit of the doubt more than a few times) I finally said, "You're doing this on purpose, aren't you ?" He replied that yes he was. Just that - "Yes, I am." No explanations as to why (not that any would have mattered).
I can still hardly believe someone would be so actively nasty in such a sly way, but there it is. We didn't last much longer.

I got a good'un now. Three years and counting. Don't give up, gentle reader - the good ones are out there somewhere, honest, and magic CAN last.
(womanwhocanonlylivewithdogs, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 11:32, 7 replies)

Turned away for a kiss.
Withdrew her hand from mine immediately.
After fourteen years, she developed an explosive temper.
She shaved down there.
She would not converse about anything.
( tromboner cherophobia is my kind of fun, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 11:22, 3 replies)

Crying
It's not good when they cry during sex.

It's definitely not good when that happens again with the next two girls as well.

I think I'm doing something wrong.

Apologies for the lack of length.
(Thebigfella, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 11:04, 17 replies)

I'm sick of crappy relationships...
Can't I just have a nice one, once?... please!
(libraryboy Cheer up, you could be french!, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 10:42, 4 replies)

Roses are red
Violets are blue
Your BO is terrible
That's why I'm dumping you
(BombayMick Dogs are better than cats, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 10:36, 4 replies)

Barney Stinson's Hot x Crazy Scale


(Miraclefish How appropriate, you fight like a cow, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 9:53, 4 replies)

So I was a punkish, gothish, borderline crusty, and was going out with a girl of similar discourse.
I make no apologies - I was a teenager, and teenagers are stupid.

Being our anarcho-crusty selves, much of our time was spent smoking cannabis, listening to music, having deep conversations about The System, and trying to flirt with each other without being politically incorrect.

Now, I love to give girls head. I know guys who don't. I think such guys are wrong and probably gay. I absolutely love it, and will jump at the chance.

So one afternoon, the girlfriend and I woke up in the sleeping bag on the mattress on the floor of the room, and started to get a bit intimate.

And as it progressed, so did I in a downward fashion.

Can I presume most of us here know what a Zippo lighter is? If you don't, they're the windproof cigarette lighters you see the Sherman troops use in WWII films. The lid is an 1 x 0.5" rectangle. Of course I had one - ex/pseudo-military kit is uniform for us perveyors of counterculture.

She was a very attractive girl - I quite like hippy chicks - but hadn't had the chance to wash for a few days.

So imagine how I felt, as I got down to my intended goal, to find a lump of greasy green mucus, the size - and the shape - of the lid of my Zippo lighter.

The moment - and with it, much of the relationship - died on the vine there and then.

Shallow? Moi? You bet.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 9:38, 12 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"
(Darth Foxtrot A one-man army dedicated to making fetch happen, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 8:29, 15 replies)

The magic went when I came home and she was gone
A pool of blood in the hallway and a bloody hand print on the wall gave the only clue as to her possible whereabouts.

I didn't stop loving her, but I could no longer deal with her mental health problems. I think we lasted another six months, but it nearly killed us both.

It was such a shame, because when she was well, she was amazing. However when she was ill, she was horrific. We are still friends even now and I still worry about her a little, but being in a relationship with some one with chronic mental health problems was probably the hardest and most heart breaking thing I have ever endured.

The saddest part of it though was that it was her own brain chemistry that did it to her and it took several years of medical tests to find the right combination of drugs and therapy to help her feel well.

She is now happily married to some one who has the strength to deal with her pain when she is ill, but on that day I came home and found the blood on the floor and no sign of her, a part of me died that I have never got back.
( Rev. Jayneflakes Buy my book, I need the cash for drugs and hookers, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 6:13, 4 replies)

I have been resisting the urge to tell stories but
1. Not showering for three days and then asking me to give her some mouth love.

When i complained about the taste, i got abused for being mean!

Go figure
( jakedamusss I understand, and dont care., Wed 27 Oct 2010, 3:37, 3 replies)

Given my previous long and winding answers to the Q.O.T.W., I would probably break all records if I answered this one fully...
So I won't bore you with all the details. Though, if you don't like answers to be over a few short paragraphs, you might want to skip this one. No really, you won't like it. To call my previous answers shit would actually be an insult to shit, but I hope to make some kind of sense with this one.

What I'll say, in lieu of details on all of my past relationships, is that I've had absolutely horrendous luck with women. So much so, that I've only ever met 3 men in my whole life who've had it worse than me - one is dead as a result, another is a basket case, and the last is still paying (quite literally) for a mistake he both made and went out with in his early 20s.

Though through all the bad luck I've had with women over the years, I still wake up every day and thank my lucky stars that I never received the treatment that those guys did.

I always used to hear my 3 older sisters complain about how all men are bastards, and I always thought that not ALL of them could be - after all, I never have been. After only one woman ever treating me right (and, believe me, she had her moments - HUGE fucking moments), it would be easy to think that there weren't any nice women out there...indeed, if I hadn't been treated well by that one woman, I'd probably be inclined to think that there aren't many around. (I don't know how representative my experiences are of the whole of the world's female population, but I'm not stupid enough to think that all women are the same.) But I realise that I've just had tremendously bad luck, and I hope to get together with the right woman for me - when the time is right, both for me and my future missus.

After having finally found a great landlord after many, *many* bad ones, I can see a similarity in the finding of good partners/landlords. There are both good and bad tenants/landlords, just as there are both good and bad boyfriends/girlfriends. What seems to happen in most cases - and I can only speak from my personal experience, though everything I've ever heard from other people about their experiences would also back me up on this - is that good gets matched up with bad, and very rarely are the good matched with the good, or the bad with the bad.

Simply put, there are far too many cunts in the world (or at least it seems that way) - of both sexes, and of every sexuality (from the stories I've heard from gay & bi people, anyway). People taking their own shit out on others - not just anybody, but those they purport to love and care for. I haven't had the chance to read many of the replies to this Q.O.T.W. (though I wanted to get my answer in before it closes), but I'd bet that all the other stories relate to one partner being abusive on some level (cheating, violence, insults, all sorts of nasty shit) - there are many different levels and types of abuse, but abuse is abuse is motherfucking abuse.

To those who are still suffering in abusive relationships, get out as fast as you can. Normally, the abuser has some kind of hold over the victim - financial, emotional blackmail, guilt-trips, whatever. The successful abuser makes the victim think that they deserve it in some way, and the only way I got out of that situation was when I finally saw the truth through the fog of lies. Not easy, not in the least, but recognise that you deserve better. Are you treating your other half like a deity, only to have them treat you like shit/throw it all back in your face, and then act like THEY'RE the victim? I bet anybody even remotely interested in this Q.O.T.W. will know what that's like. I promise you, you're not alone. The answers I've read so far have said that already, and no doubt all the others do, too. So, yeah - Major Lee Bindun, and probably much better so than my effort.

And to those who have found their special someone (and managed to hold on to them), I not only salute you and hold you in the very highest regard, but I have to admit that I'm as jealous as fuck (though I MUST stress that I aim to be single until I'm ready to take the plunge again). So jealous, in fact, that it's a damn good job that my eyes are naturally green.

But I'm jealous in a good way, if there is such a thing ;o)
(TheAmazingMeatMan ™ can't sing, but he's got soul, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 3:07, 3 replies)

Ah, how could i forget..
An ex girlfriend of mine definitely qualifies for batshit crazy, if not winning first prize. Repeat offender of the 'look at me do something mental, look at my mood swings, look at me give you 5 seconds of handjob then get all rape victim when you're confused as to why I stopped' game. Damn mental bitch.

Favourite one was pretending to break up with me, just to watch me beg and squirm. Didn't take me long to get smart, so eventually I'd say "cool, sounds good. Later." That scared the crap out of her, I was only joking of course. Why didn't I actually leave? You know why. She was fffffiiinnnneeee.

One day at her parents house she decided to throw a strop on me, to this day I have no reason what I did wrong. She could be a venomous bitch at times, and that day she was setting new records. "Don't even look at me, MunchMyBalloons, you make me sick£ you're worthless, pathetic, I don't even know why I'm with you", now I was used to all this (but like I said, she was fffiiinnnneee!) so I gave my now standard reply of "sure, ill leave, see ya!" This time she didn't beg or apologise, simply stood between me and the door, moving side to side like a psycho crab-bitch so I couldn't leave. It was like some stupid game of space invaders, where she is the teeming horde of aliens. Okay, it wasn't actually anything like space invaders, but she was still pretty similar to a teeming horde of aliens. I digress. Anyway, my solution to this was to calmly, sensibly, place my hands on her shoulders (not violent, or even calm-violent), and simply pivot round her to freedom. Her response? Fall on the floor in fits of pain induced tears. "You hit me! You monster! Don't come near me, don't touch me! Ill scream! Ill get my parents on you! Don't even think abo-"

Ok bye.

And I was gone.
She has since been engaged twice, faked 3 pregnancies, and lost all those close to her due to her inane storytelling. I think I was lucky to get out.

Lessons learned? Would I do it again? Fuck yeah! She was fiiiiinnnnnnneeeee!
(MunchMyBalloons, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 1:39, 3 replies)

I went out with a nutter once.
I've been out with a nutter. I think most men have. I was blinded by her 32E chesticles that were as perfect as I was horny.

To be honest, I should have seen the warning signs from the first time I kissed her. I walked home with her most days and it was obviously building up to something; so one day we did a little kiss. As I walked the other way, she text me immediately. It read "Well that was weird." At least it sparked a reaction.

So we continued our charade of a relationship. It went quite well up until February when I went to Berlin for a week and when I was away, she took a turn for the worse. I think she went full on psycho. It seems she started getting close to another lad whilst I was away. Nothing too serious I thought and when I got back, it returned to me and her.

It actually goes quite well for a while. We pop each other's cherries and carry on doing naughty things; no wait, I do naughty things to her whilst she puts my genitalia in her mouth for about 6 seconds before asking if she can stop.

The summer is when she went fully nuts. She'd been stringing along this other lad and playing us off against each other. I was a fucking dick for not noticing it happening. One day, she'd been holding hands with the other fella in front of me and what not then as soon as he left, tried it with me.

It came to a head at the beginning of July. She had dumped me and within days, got with this new fella. Obviously, she didn't tell me but still strung me along with classic lines such as "I want you but I know I can't have you." and "When you get married, I'm gonna be crying at the back of the church because I know I could have had you." All the while I'm saying to her "You can have me."

In September, I start seeing someone knew and I told Girl A when I spoke to her for the first time in weeks. She responded "Why must you hurt me like that?"

Lucky escape.
(BenjaminTheGreat, Wed 27 Oct 2010, 0:44, 3 replies)

Damn fuck socks
I paid the rent, the car I bought a house the daft bitch then bottled. I looked after her when her evil drunk father was found dead on on the railway tracks in bath. Damn all I wanted was an a piss poor explanation rather than dropping me in the shit

lots of love to e.halhead ;) and good luck with your house and sprogborn to be.

ps I did suggest you should do art rather than being a RMN as you had more issues than a soap opera a year before you qualified

before: I remember my grans funeral and you were a complete bitch as you wanted to go clubbing and get off your tits, there are many variations on this theme and finally you were shitte in the sack
(BigThrobbingGristle, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 23:46, 8 replies)

JOANNA, YOU'RE A STUPID, HEARTLESS BITCH

( Light In Chains maker of the ikea sofa, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 22:12, 16 replies)

Revenge is sweet
This goes on for a bit but the end is brilliant

www.boreme.com//boreme/funny-2007/danny-dumps-angie-p1.php
(Pugwash, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 21:24, 6 replies)

Manic nudity
My first try at this, and not a native English speaker, so please use lube..

This is about my second girlfriend. I started dating late, and i got into a relationship with this 18 year old when i was 20. The relationship was crappy, and i won't deny my own part in it.I was not the hard hitting robotnik at the time that i am now. I had a hard time back then, i didn't know what to do with my life, didn't have a job, and i was having frequent anxiety attacks. (But i didn't act out, or took drugs or anything, and i was a fairly calm and normal person.) I was vulnerable and needed someone entirely different than the person i ended up with,

She was a little blond bombshell and not as bat shit insane as other women mentioned in this thread, but she was still a bit on the manic and flamboyant side. Manic as in "involving lots of nudity". This included:

A lot of skinny dipping
Taking all her clothes off in a public park.
Dancing naked on the roof terrace of her parents house in full view of her neighbours
Leading a demonstration at a festival - naked of course - for uni-sex bathing facilities
Walking down a busy foothpath in nothing than sneakers

It was horrible, fascinating and boner inducing at the same time.to witness all this (although the sex never were that good).

She was also into far left politics, and wanted me to go with her to an illegal demonstration against a big construction site (illegal as in cut down a fence and enter said area). "But aren't we going to get, like, arrested by the police"? I objected. "No." She said, "They do it all the time, and the police always give you the opportunity of leaving the area first. We are going to be fine. You want to see my tits?" And off we went. But of course, the police took this exact opportunity to state an example and arrest all the 3-400 demonstrants, handcuff them and put them into cells. So there i was. Eventually i was released as the last person at 3 in the morning and was later convicted of illegal trespassing with all the other demonstrants, and had to pay a fine. This was about 20 years ago, but i am sure there is still some kind of record of me in some hidden secret governmental data base somewhere.

A few months later she met some random guy at a party and decided to have sex with him, and then to break up with me, stating that she hoped we still could be friends. And promptly inviting me to a lot of partys where they both were present. And i found a note with his and my name on it, comparing us to each other.

The worst thing was when i sweet talked her to have sex with me on a public beach between two boats with me a year later, as revenge to the other guy, because she was still with him at that time. I will regret that for the rest of my life, and it still makes me feel sick today.


Okay, actually the worst thing was that she escaped police custody and never had to pay the fine. Apologies for length. Should i edit?
(Robotnik, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 21:08, 4 replies)

ooo, another one
it wasn't because of the sex, that was great.
it wasn't because of his looks, which i found interesting.
it wasn't his meanness with money, although that played a part.
no, the magic well and truly left the building when he gave me a bottle of perfume* for valentine's day and told me "i bought this for my ex, but she dumped me before i could give it to her."
that's 2 for 2, then.



*it was tweed, ffs.
( Smash Monkey lowering the tone of the whole internet, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 20:22, 17 replies)

Kanye West has a point...
The Gold Digger

Hot East European. I left my (long since dead) marriage for her. Spent next five years being a complete door mat by my own admission and indulging in entirely voluntary self-sabotage by the simple mechanic of not understanding why a "hotty" would be interested in me. On the basis of mature reflection I now recognise that "hot" = "insane" in my experience, although, to be honest, I suspect and hope-to-goodness that this is simply my own experience.

By the end of five years in which I'd been dumped twice (err, hint?) I realised I was tens of thousands of pounds out of pocket and, having bought her a house amongst other things, I wasn't able to obtain any redress. At the time, non-nationals weren't allowed to own property in that country.

She's obtained assets and stuff worth at a reasonable estimate of about 150K: on balance, I've obtained a life-time of medication and a life lesson in not being quite so trusting, nor naïve. I'm not a bad person or revolting in looks / personality simply far, far too trusting. Oh well, lesson learnmd.

EDIT: thanks to RNUK for the hint, hence edits. Not seeking a place in the newsletter though.
(Wibblist Last said "Wibble" on, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 19:03, 22 replies)

The Dull Snap of My Heart
She was dynamic, she was really into me, she was voracious in bed.

16 years later she was fat, embittered, and so frigid she could keep your milk cold.

She got what she wanted, my savings and 2 lovely kids, and I became a necessary evil for her to endure for the wages.

The magic went when she started to tell me to fuck off, that she would be better with out me.

Your wish is my desire.......
( Fire & Forget it's the only way to be sure, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 18:30, 2 replies)

She was 18
And drop dead gorgeous.

I was mid 20's and slightly freaked that an 18 year old girl was interested in me. I was even more freaked that I was actually interested in her too.
She was fun to be around, smart and acted a lot older than her years.
She could also suck a tennis ball through a straw.

We'd been hanging out for a few months and all our sexual escapades had taken place al fresco, due to her living in Kent and me in north London.

The first time I got her back to mine properly I couldn't wait to get her into bed.

Stripping her naked I was in for a shock.
Number one - although she looked great in clothes, out of them she looked like a prepubescent little boy. I suddenly felt like a pedalist.

Number two - she had pubic hair like the beard of Ramses and it descended a good two inches below her lady garden.

Erm, still fucked her though.

I guess the magic was really gone when I found out she was pregnant by someone else and that I wasn't the only one that enjoyed her oral talents.
(EvilMeister, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 17:32, 11 replies)

The magic is gone when the flirts
and the "innocent" touching in the office, with the associated turbo-powered fantasy wanking of what might be, becomes "How about a date?"
( The Scrunt Wants a Dozen Pints, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 17:17, Reply)

Magic gone before it started.
We used to flirt, got along well. She texted me. The text contained a typo that was clearly not down to the T9.

That was it for me. I just can't stand people who can't spell.

How I knew the magic was gone? She was not my wife.
( bierbelly, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 16:59, Reply)

She just wouldn't stop screaming.
All fucking day.

ALL FUCKING DAY!

JESUS CHRIST! IT DROVE ME UP THE BLOODY WALL!

But in the end, she learned to stop.

They always learn, in the end.

Oh yes.

They always learn.
( Je suis un vagabond is an unfunny, up your own arse middle class knob, Tue 26 Oct 2010, 16:38, 5 replies)