Hey big spender...
My boyfriend, back in Uni, lived next to a total muffin of a farm-boy. He wore the same clothes every single day. He washed once a week (if you were lucky) and all he ever ate were disgusting sarnies - chocolate spread, ham, mayo, jam, peanut butter - it all went on.

Most disturbingly, though, was his spending habits. His parents, obviously terrified he might move back to Wales (yes, he was Welsh), paid off his debit card monthly for him. Being the nosy bugger we all are, my boyfriend sneaked a look at farm-boy's debit card bill when he left it in the communal kitchen.

Every single Friday, at 2am, farm-boy removed £40. Why? What did he need £40 for at 2am? The clubs were shutting, and no-one spends that much at the 24 hour garage...

So my boyfriend and another chap followed him. Farm-boy went to the cashpoint, got his £40, and, looking around, walked over the other side of the Uni.

To the red light district.

Farm-boy managed to lose my boyf and his mate, and continued to visit the ladies of the night long after that.

Dirty fucker.
(Northern Lovely, Tue 30 Aug 2005, 19:20, Reply)