b3ta.com user impostercat
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» Strict Parents

Strict? Probably just damaged and mean.
No rules spring to mind, just what I thought was normal until I was about 10.

Mother: World beating guilt merchant with a nice sideline in obsessive compulsion. More than once had me take off my 'filthy' school uniform on the driveway to be placed in a bag for safe transference to the washing machine so's not to contaminate the house. We lived on the road most people used to walk home from school... Washed car and door keys (as they'd been OUTSIDE!) amongst other plainly paranoid things. Obviously this didn't really leave any room for having friends round the house. Once yelled at me for having the radio on when sent to my room for punishment only to find her lonely 9 year old son having an animated conversation with himself. Didn't see the signs and managed to pass on a inconvenient amount of her loopiness.

Father: Prone to violent outbursts and rages and tighter than a gnats arse. While not being at all poor, the washer was only allowed on once a week and then on the economy 7. Same weekly routine with baths until early teens. Showers not allowed unless on aformentioned economy 7. Instigated garden chores that mean't I got covered in grass cuttings setting off mother. Once, on the account of a few bits of grass, mum wound dad up so much he shook my sister by her ankles until the strap on her dungerees broke, depositing her head first on the floor. It was, according to my spent, post-row parents, my fault.

As you can see, it was bit difficult to please them both at the same time and I revelled in my time away from the house, although it took me a few years to work out that the strange sensation I was feeling was relaxation. Now me and sis have both left the 'nest', both parents seem much happier with less to disrupt their routines/co-dependencies. Somehow, they've managed to reconcile the "you're dirty!" / "don't wash!" paradox that I never could.

Strangely, we could watch ITV whenever liked.
(Sat 10th Mar 2007, 5:03, More)

» The Weird Kid In Class

She beat me.
Like so many before, I remember doing some pretty weird things in primary school. I spent a couple of weeks hopping around the playground offering what I refered to as 'kangeroo service'. To this day I don't know what I would have done had it not been universaly refused. My sister was more successful at making friends by taking the instructions out of mums tampax and luring away boys for a peek. I mean she could have just showed them her fanny, no? Apparently she hadn't yet made the connection.
(Mon 22nd Jan 2007, 3:28, More)

» My Greatest Regrets

Unfortunately probably subject to change...
...but the greatest so far has been telling my partner I didn't want to have a child out of fear of the resposibility. The subsequent crumbling of a relationship and a good part of my sanity with it. Falling back in to a pattern of depression and alcoholism, which the woman in question had worked very hard to coax me out of. Not realising what I was offered until it was gone and being too stupid to see the hurt I caused, or even that I was rejecting her.

Probably a lucky break for the theoretical offspring though.

Can't think of a way of putting a funny spin on it. Perhaps you can laugh at how much I deserve the position in which I find myself, miserable and having taken a four year step backward.
(Sun 8th Oct 2006, 4:50, More)

» Stupid Tourists

Easy when you know how...
Not strictly foolish comments but, I derived a great deal of pleasure from watching American students trying to open foil capped milk bottles in the hotel I used to work in. Blue tits do better.
(Thu 7th Jul 2005, 18:19, More)

» It's not me, it's the drugs talking

I regret the numerous times I've over done it while getting the hang of a new substance and scared or upset my freinds. Or being somewhat liberal with my affections towards utter strangers. Or imagined my mates were somehow a threat and bombarded them with fire extinguishers (not the contents, the full metal cylinder- good job he's a strapping lad).
Ketamine is almost always immediately regetted, but that for me is the point. It's like snorting a temporary brain injury up your nose.
Another aquaintance fell off the front of the BBC Manchester Building on a speed and booze binge and earned herself a concussion and a bizarre night in A&E. I must admit the thing does cry out to be climbed, but safety first people.
Oh, and if your chosen dose makes you soil yourself, you took too much. Experience can be bitter.
(Fri 16th Dec 2005, 12:57, More)
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