» Encounters with Royalty

Well I am...
...apparently. Ghanaian. I have a ghanaian middle name which my mum calls me by but my dad called me by adifferent one, me and my brother by the same one. A few months ago 2 braincells got to working, and I actually thought to ask my mum why that is. "It's a title" says she "All members of Ga royalty have it." Cue O_o, why the hell did they just assume I knew? Later on my great grandma on my mums side dies and her title states that she's also sacred princess of the royal clan of some other ghanaian tribe. Looked at her obituary pic and she's swamped in frikin' gold. Just makes you that bit more pissed off you spent most of your childhood growing up on a council estate.
(Mon 7th Aug 2006, 1:29, More)

» Dumped

Jabba the slut
Wow I haven't posted here since I was still in school, but rediscovered this site recently and have been pissing myself laughing at all the stories so I thought I'd re-join the festivities..

My first major breakup was unintentional. I was seeing this girl called Chloe, mixed-race white and persian, blue eyes, curly hair, nice body, bit chavvy, but a real looker. She was at the time a college student of meagre means and as such she lived in a hostel, sharing a flat with a gargantuan whale-beast named Hailey. Hailey had a weight problem - by this I don't just mean she was fat, I mean when she lay on a bed she looked like a fucking pancake. Hailey is the main occupant of this here tale, for Hailey was a ravenous beastie and would try to make a pass at me whenever Chloe left the room. The choice was between a girl who looked like a Bond girl in a towel and a girl who was literally two of me. I let her down gently at first and more forcefully later; I ended up having to tell Chloe who burst into tears at her friend's betrayal, begging her to stop. Hailey promised to. She didn't.

This wouldn't have been such a problem except that Hailey never left the single-living area flat. To be fair it was originally her flat, but come on... No matter how much coaxing and coercing we did, (which extended to even buying her tickets to go out to her favourite club) she would not leave the place, perhaps for fear of encountering water and melting into a Loch-nessian pool of oozing slime. On that occasion with the tickets the daft beastie necked 6 speed tabs promising to go out for the next 2 hours. I then foolishly let her smoke a bit of homegrown and she promptly began spazzing in and out for ages, flopping about and speaking in a strange garbled dialect unrecognizable as English; her speech not unlike that of a famous tyrannical Star Wars character. Poor Chloe rushed around after her all that time, whilst I managed to muster a look of grievous concern as I tried not to piss myself. Given that I was still a virgin at this time I could have killed her - had I not been trying so hard not to laugh at the image that kept springing to mind. From that day forth she was known (in my head) as Jabba the slut.

As you can guess she was the principal cause behind the ending of this blossoming relationship. Finally after all the graft and long struggle it was the day - I could feel it. It was the day I traded in my V-plates and became a man. Chloe answered the door still wet from the shower, hair dripping and gave me a sexy hug. She dressed up barely hidden behind the makeshift screen of her towel and my, er... leg twitched nervously. We waved goodbye to the sad beast and headed out for an evening of fun and frolics. It was only in coming back that we encountered a problem. Having put 2+2 together it transpired that Chloe must've asked Hailey to leave the flat, so we could finally consummate our teenage lusts. What Hailey did instead was contact Chloe's older brother to tell him that his supposedly muslim little sister (Kaya was apparently her muslim/birth name) was out drinking and about to have sex with a boy. As such when we got back to the flat an outlandish scene was had, in which I couldn't even get into the room blocked at the door by Hailey. I eventually gave up promising to come back the next day. The next day never arrived. Chloe and Hailey had a massive bustup that night after which they were both ejected from the building. Chloe moved back in with her Muslim parents and I never saw her again. Hailey was hopefully run over by a truck, but I don't even fancy the truck's odds. This was my first encounter with the legendary female 'bitch', but definitely not the last.

Apologies for length, it runs in the family.
(Mon 7th Jan 2013, 15:50, More)

» Mugged

Attempted mugging
Me and a couple of mates were walking through town a while ago, when about 7 or 8 rudeboys who must've been at least 2 years younger than us came up to us. "Have you got the time?" they ask. We point out that the giant clocktower is right behind them. They ask again, and knowing what they're about we tell them to **** off. This mouthy one obviously their leader starts talking really fast in a really high pitched voice, and the only thing we could pick out in all the rudeboy slang/hih pitchedness was he wanted to "gas us". Bear in mind there are 3 of us. Two 6 foot, pretty strong black guys and our mate Simon who's short and white but also pretty strong. They tell their weedy obvious hanger on to search Simon, and as he approaches Si squares up to him, ready to headbutt him and tells him to touch him and see what happens. The weedy guy backs off and the mouthy one starts going on again. Dan (my black mate) gets out his phone and holds it out to him, and goes "you want it?" the mouth makes a grab for it and Dan trips him up and pushes him to the floor then utters the classic line "Yeah... come back when your balls drop" There's quite a crowd at this point (mostly made up of other chavs wanting to see a fight) they burst out laughing, and we calmly walk away to the sound of the mouthy high-pitched dude screaming threats at us.

No apologies for length, no-one's complained before...
(Sun 18th Jun 2006, 18:09, More)

» Running away

Good ol' child logic
This a long one. When i was about 7 or so I was biking outside the front of my house with my best mate at the time (who still is actually even if he's a "bit" of a chav). Anyway we see coloured smoke rising up and wonder what it is, but realise we don't know where it is. Eentually my best mate from school rides along and tells us the paint factory is on fire. "Cool" say we, and off we go to see the pretty colours (and inhale paint fumes). All the way out of town and down at an industrial estate. Next thing we know it's 7.00 and it's past our 6 o'clock curfew. Normal logic would say "Oh crap! Lets get home as fast as we can so we don't get in trouble" Child logic says "Oh crap! We can't go home now! Let's run away!" So we did. As far as my best friend from schools house. We got dinner in order to avoid going back, and hung out riding around out the front insisting our parents knew we were here and we were allowed out so late. Eventually (around 11pm) my friends mum seeminly called our parents on the sly and they were promptly around to pick us up. Unfortunately my parents aren't the forgiving kind and I couldn't ride my bike for a week, not because I wasn't allowed but because i couldn't sit down.

Lately though I discovered child logic never really dies. After a day of getting stoned/boozed up at my old house. I went home to discover I'd lost my keys. Started knocking loudly and shouting my arse off and getting no reply even though the kitchen light was on. Instead of waiting a couple of mins I decided if I wasn't wanted I wasn't going to stay. Bear in mind this was about midnight, and so I thought my dad was just refusing to open the door. I decided I'd go to my brother's flat and try and kip there. Near the town centre. About an hours's walk away... So off I go, 45 minutes later only to discover my brother's not in. "Crap... Well I can't go back home, and I can't get into my old house, hmmmm... I'm a reasonably good looking fellow." (I was drunk at the time) "Maybe I can pull some ugly slapper coming out of the clubs and have a place to stay" this was a sound plan except
1. I'm not attractive.
2. It's a sunday night/monday morning and the clubs are dead.
After a load of time wandering around the desrted town center I hear a "Hey there, don't I know you from somewhere" and turn around to be greeted by 2 chavvy yet quite fit (drunken state) girls. We spark up some fags and a convo but no matter how many veiled allusions are made to going back to hers 'Ayesha' ain't biting. And her friend looks completely disinterested. Eventually I settle for her number and realise the plan isn't going to work, and I need to find somewhere to sleep. I walk back to the park near my house, get to the bench and get maybe 2 hours of uncomfortable sleep, but wake up to the most fantastic dawn ever. After an hour of just watching the dawn, I decide to get home, and on the way lose Ayesha's number (written on fag carton) to possible prostitute Debbie. Now Debbie was interesting. Gold teeth, gian hooped earrings and trackies, voice completely buggered by chain-smoking, wrinkles of a 90 year old when she was possibly 25. She was round her boyfriend/whatevers house at 5am shouting for the £5 he owed her so she could get some fags. Of course I offered her one, which became 2 whilst Debbie griped to me about life in general. Even pointed out her house to me which I thought was cool, might've been the start of a beautiful friendship. Then she grabbed my arse and I realised it was time to go. Bastard thing is when I got in my folks had just thought I was sleeping at my old house, and hadn't actually tried to lock me out but had come to the door after I had prematurely left and thought it was just kids. My brother's whose flat I was gonna go to had actually been the one in the kitchen and had fallen asleep there. Semi-ran away and wasn't even missed. Damned Child logic.

And again length runs in the family.
(Sat 12th Aug 2006, 3:13, More)

» Running away

Weird stalking
Not my main stalker girl but a different one-off stalking. Was in year 4 or 5, and during lunch had inadvertently wandered into the year 6 toilets to find two year 6s doing "things" to each other. I of course ran out, and didn't think anything of it. Later in the afternoon I was walking home when i noticed the girl from earlier and a friend had been following me all the way home. I stopped and tried to act like I was checking my bag to let them go in front of me and make sure they were't following me. They did and I started walking again. Then oddly they stopped and started talking and pointing to something and let me get in front again. I thought this was a bit weird and after another while decided to stop and tie my shoelaces to let them get in front again. Again they went then stopped and let me get in front, and this time I started speeding up my walking. They sped up too and started giggling menacingly and almost caught up to me before i got scared ****less and ran all the way back home. They chased me for a bit too.

Never happened again and I never saw her after she left school until a year ago at a friend's engagement party. She recognized me, I pulled her, her dad was not best pleased. Told me to I'd have a broken jaw when I tried to get her phone number (He'd told me to **** off before). Never did find out what the chase was about...

Apologies for length, I'm told it's genetic.
(Sat 12th Aug 2006, 1:52, More)