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» Lies Your Parents Told You

When I'm at work in the supermarket....
Mums will often warn their kids not to misbehave by saying "that man over there..." (i.e. me) "..will tell you off if you keep doing that."

NO I BLOODY WON'T!!! I'VE GOT BETTER THINGS TO DO THAN HECTOR OTHER PEOPLE'S SNOTTY KIDS!! It's a lie junior, don't believe her. Just keep on climbing up that shelving, there's a good boy.... I'm not even gonna say a word to ya.
(Wed 21st Jan 2004, 23:58, More)

» Irrational Fears

Oh yeah....
and one of my work colleagues has an irrational fear of...


Whenever she even looks at a photograph of it she feels sick. She has to look away. God knows what would happen if she ever went to India...

the Taj Mahal! Why? Why? But it's true!!
(Tue 27th Jan 2004, 22:24, More)

» The worst sex I ever had

I'm so sorry

anyway, I'd pulled this girl from work who was a bit chubby but had a great personality (as so many of them do) so after a several pints in the local nightclub/dive a quick snog and a bit of a fumble wasn't out of the question. Anyway, one thing didn't lead to another that night, but it did a few nights later when she invited me to stay over at hers... and yes, I did end up getting the best blow job of my life so far (I won't go too far into detail, though maybe I have already).

Anyway, it was dark, so my mind was all over the place.... I ended up thinking I wouldn't mind a bit more of that, so carried on seeing her and, well, seeing to her. Mostly at night, in the dark. More her choice than mine, but I was enjoying it, so what the hell.....

...then one morning aftet I'd stayed over the night, I'd got up and had a wash and that, and she told me she was still horny, wanted me, etc, etc... fair enough, I thought. Pulled the covers off the bed to reveal her naked body, and

well, she was 'shaven', which ain't usually so bad

but she was, as I said, a bit chubby...

and I saw her lying on the bed, chubby and practically hairless, and I just thought 'Boticelli', you know, those little fat cherubs in those ornate Italian renaissance paintings. I was going to have to shag a giant baby.

I was almost sick. But I somehow managed it. It felt awful, I even faked the orgasm (tough for a bloke). I can't really bear thinking about it now. I'm now really put off by fat girls, no matter how nice and funny and intelligent they might be. It's just that thought that crossed my mind when I puled the covers off that bed.....

..anyway, I pissed off travelling the world a few days after that. She spent the whole of my trip texting me saying how much she looked forward to me coming back and that she was going to give me the best sex ever, etc (always lies). I ended up texting back a few days before I came back to the UK for my four-month trip, saying I was sorry but I was going back to my hometown.

Still can't understand what must cross the mind of so-called 'chubby chasers'.

Apologies for length? In this board? Please!!
(Sat 16th Jun 2007, 0:19, More)

» Housemates from hell

Eh dear... part two
.. well then.
Fora while we had the spare room empty and all was OK, my other hosemates, Lib and Zbig, were really sound guys and I got on with them well, in fact I think the experience we'd had with the chav had made us better pals than we would otherwise have been. But our landlord, such are the joys of buy-to-let, needed to fill the spare room. And so, we had Phil move in.

Now Phil seemed perfectly ok first time we met him. I'd have objected to someone who seemed like a total nutter or chav, especially after the previous incident (and I'd been to University and had enough nutters to contend with there, and before going to Uni I'd had my own bedsit for a couple of years in one of the most dangerous parts of Huddersfield- I literally watched out of the window one afternoon as a riot went on down the street and a pub got broken into and burnt out). Phil worked in a factory near our house, he didn't want to commute all the way from where he was, especially as he was on night shifts usually, and wanted to get out from under his dad's feet. Seemed like a decent enough guy, we warmed to him, we even took him out clubbing in Leeds. Everything seemed ok.

For about 3 weeks.

One evening I got back from work and Phil was in the front room. He just looked different, as soon as I saw him I knew something was wrong. He started talking about people at work that had been teasing him, calling him homosexual, trying to play jokes on him, talking about him behind his back. Now at first I thought maybe this guy just works with a load of prats, so I listened to him and told him he should get on with it as much as he could, and if things got too much I was sure there'd be someone at his work he could go to. Then I went to my room. Whilst I was getting changed out of my suit, Phil bellowed up the stairs:

"are you havin' a laugh at us"

"i'm sorry, what do you mean?"

"well all the time you were taslking to us just now, you had a smirk on your face, like it was some big joke. They were here today, makin' a load of noise outside my room [we'd had the back patio concreted that day] and the workmen came through my window while I was tryin' to sleep, had a ladder going across my bed. They were laughing their heads off, my dad was here too [wasn't- we never saw him after the one night he and Phil came to look at the house] and he was jokin' about me an' all.... is this some big conspiracy???"

Turns out Phil was a paranoid schizophrenic. His daddio had foisted him on us because he couldn't handle him. Over the next few days we were accused of all sorts- apparently I was levitating outside Phil's window whipering evil through the window, my Zimbabwean housemate was 'a fucker' because he was (1) black, and (2) apparently walked around in a manner that was meant to show how big his dick was, our other (Polish) housemate was 'pure evil' as was his mother who was staying with us for a while having travelled over from Poland to see her own son for a few weeks... our landlord was, apparently, a "scumbag"....

.. this went on for a few weeks. By now we (myself and my other two sentient housemates) were sick of it, the Polish guy Zbig was terrified of Phil as he was placid by nature, living in a strange country and didn't want the risk of the schizo turning on his mother when he was at work, but myself and my other housemate Lib weren't prepared to tolerate it. Phil would come into the living room whilst we were watching football ot whatever and accuse one of us of banging on his door when he was asleep (when we'd all been in the front room for at least an hour), or he'd try and break into our rooms when the rest of us were at work, or he'd play music in his room at stupid o' clock at max volume. You couldn't have a decent conversation with him, as he'd start accusing all the other housemates (he would never acuse you to your face) of being part of some big conspiracy with his work colleagues and his dad and the landlord and the neighbours and everyone else. We were all out to get him.

The landlord came round to have a word, but when that happened Phil was really apologetic, said he wanted to stay. But after a while it was too much, nobody else in the house would speak to Phil, we couldn't care less, we just didn't like him bursting in on us when we were watching Scrubs and telling us he was going to get us because we'd been tapping on his walls and talking about how we were going to get him [when we'd actually al been at work, like normal people]. I was terrified that he would attack Zbig (our Polish housemate), or worse, attack Zbig's mum who was staying with us, didn't speak very good English, and was in the house most of the day.

The schizo dickhead, who we're sure was foisted on us by his dad who couldn't cope and had decided to just send him to someone else rather than find help kill a responsible parent would, decided he couldn't bear living with a bunch of weirdos who were plotting to kill him, and eventually left of his own accord.... THANK GOD. I was by then sleeping with a metal rod next to the bed.

So the next rule has to be stated: NEVER LIVE WITH A PARANOID SCHIZOPHRENIC......
(Fri 6th Apr 2007, 0:33, More)

» Housemates from hell

Eh dear.... this is gonna be one long post
Last year I moved into the place where I still live now. Really ideal room, spacious, good double bed, close to where I work, and much better than living with my alcoholic mother and her prick-of-a-husband (as I'd been forced to do after returning back to the UK skint from a spell travelling around the globe).

So I moved in, and the first morning we were supposed to have a meeting with the landlord to go over the conditions and all that. Sat down for brekkie with one of my new housemates, named Steven but preferred to be known as 'Ste'. I was immediately less-than-impressed when I asked him what he did for a living- his reply was "ah, I don't work, me", which he said as if he was proud of it. I didn't care to ask how he could afford to pay the rent if he didn't have a job.

Anyway, I decided to get on with things. But 'Ste' became like a minor headache that grows into a terrible migraine over the next few weeks. He was 100% chav, had this skinny girlfriend that you could have blown over with a fart but had a voice as deep as Barry White, and every night they'd go through the routine of having extremely loud, drunken and violent (as in him kicking the hell out of her) arguments every night, and then having extremely loud, drunken and violent sex. Now I'm normally a very reserved and quiet individual, but after a few days I was ready to kill this chav and his chav beeatch. My other housemates (who were both decent enough guys) were terrified of Ste, though with work being in such a state of disrepair I was doing all the overtime God sent and so was usually too knackered at night to go down and give the chavs from hell a beasting, and also felt that as I was new to the house and in an unfamiliar area couldn't really afford to have beating the hell out of one of my house 'mates' on record. So for whatever reason, I put up with it, if only for a couple of weeks........

...and then it got so much that myself and my other housemates, with whom I got on well, got in touch with the landlord and told him that if he wasn't going to kick out this chav we would kill him. So landlord (decent enough guy, just hadn't filtered his tenants well enough perhaps) came round one evening when 'Ste' was out, to wait for him to come back and tell him to go. I'd just got back from work, and as Jay (landlord) was there I told him I'd go to my room and fetch him the two weeks' rent I owed him....

... only to find the chav scumbag had broken into my room and stolen the £150 I had placed in my drawers in my room. It was tucked under two towels in the drawers by my desk, as I'd not had time since moving in to instal a lock on my door. The little bastard had been through all my drawers, stole my credit card (which I immediately cancelled), and gone through all my private confidential stuff. If he had come back home that night I would have cut his throat and made his bitch drink the blood. I was seething, mad that I'd made the wrong decision to move into this house just to get away from my mother's scumbag husband who still thinks he's an Army Sargeant, just to be closer to my work so that I didn't have to suffer trains being late all the time and could supposedly save the cost of travelling, mad that I'd moved into this house that seemed so nice at first but had turned into a nightmare. My landlord called the cops, but we never saw Ste again, the landlord saw him once, a few weeks later, to give him his stuff back (we'd gone into his room and shoved it all in bin bags) (I would have killed him if I'd seen him, in fact I'd still kill him now and this all happened about 9 months ago). The cops couldn't do anything, as there weren't any locks on my room door, and he had a right to be in the house as he was a paying tenant. So rule number one, I knew then (and I'd lived in a LOT of dodgy places before this) was..... NEVER LIVE WITH A CHAV. THEY WILL LEAVE BLOOD STAINS ALL OVER THE HOUSE. THEY WILL ARGUE WITH, AND THEN RAPE, THE POOR STUPID FEMALE CHAVS THAT ARE STUPID ENOUGH TO HAVE RELATIONSHIPS WITH THEM, AT ABOUT A LEVEL OF 1000 DECIBELS EVERY NIGHT. AND THEY WILL STAL FROM YOU.....

.... at least he was gone, I thought. So we could move someone decent into the spare room, I thought.....

AND THEN IT GOT WORSE..... (nightmare post to follow)
(Thu 5th Apr 2007, 23:46, More)
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