How I failed at being a good fiance.
After a lifetime of being a gangly, rake-like social leper, I met a sexy, funny, charismatic girl on a night out and we hit it off. One year on, we got engaged and rented a house together. She had a white-collar job in the city centre, I worked in a screen-printing workshop. It started well enough, but domestic friction increased over time - initially, I just put it down to over-familiarity and didn't take it too seriously, but I found out her rather well-off boss was frequently knobbing her behind my back. Although I saw red at the time, I didn't act immediately - instead, I gathered as much information as I could, then casually confronted her, presenting a full hand of cards when she denied the affair and laid down the law in what I thought was a firm but rational manner.

Two days later when I was back at work, some policemen came in. "Ayup, someone's in trouble!" I thought. Five minutes later, the cold hand of officialdom on my shoulder sent me into a panic. To cut a long story short, she'd acquired nasty bruises on her face and a black eye, so they arrested me on suspicion of domestic violence and put me up in a cell while the investigation took place. Quickly enough, they found out she was full of shit; not only did they find I was at my bench when the incident took place (as proved by my clock card and multiple witnesses), my DNA was not present in the injury either. The police were admirably impartial and professional throughout - however, the same cannot be said for my colleagues and the social workers. In their eyes, I was a horrendous wife-beater and was regarded as an inhuman monster. Shortly afterwards I got fired, allegedly because of "improfessional conduct" (the exact nature of which was not at all clear, despite my repeated queries) and refused to provide a reference for any subsequent jobs I applied for, thus nixing any possible future in the industry, rendering four years' experience useless and forcing me to start again from scratch as if I were a spotty work-shy school leaver. As if that wasn't enough, my delightful fiancee flew the nest and moved in with her god-like new man, leaving me in severe financial shite that I'm still trying to pay off several years on.

After that experience, you'll understand I'm now more than a little wary of relationships.
(WANKERTRON you say "prick", I say "wanker", Sat 5 Dec 2009, 1:16, 3 replies)

Bastard...
My daddy told me this... although it takes 2 to tango, men have more common sense than women - thus the other guy made a conscious decision to jack you over, sorry mate :0(

Option 1 is collect all her stuff, knock on his door then dump stuff, reminding him if he wants to fuck it, he can feed it and put a roof over it's head.

Option 2: Paintball Gun, Testicles, no fucking problem. You could use a nail gun but it doesn't hurt quite as much.

You'll find a good one one day, until ten, stay cool, have fun :0)
(hengushrh is found at the Dole office every second thursday, Sat 5 Dec 2009, 11:58, closed)

"men have more common sense than women"?
And, if your dad is anything to go by, a fraction of the intelligence.
( crackhouseceilidhband Fuck off back to Mumsnet, Sun 6 Dec 2009, 11:29, closed)

I don't really want to "like" this.
But have a sympathy click.
(DarkLite swallowed my entire undercarriage, Sun 6 Dec 2009, 21:23, closed)