In all seriousness, people don't usually need help with their crazy, and targeting crazy people for relationships because they are "more fun" is approaches the disturbing, as depending on the type of crazy, if you step back from it, it can become kinda predatory. Granted, there's a distinct difference between seeking out someone with "personality" and seeking out someone who has a mental illness of some sort.
I hate to simplify it too much, but crazy tends to attract crazy. For every "man that bitch was crazy" story, I often think that the other person has to be just as fucked up, especially the people who continue to draw the crazies like a magnet.
My girlfriend cheated on me. I didn't find out until after we'd broken up, but she'd been cheating on me. With another girl.
I don't know what hurts more - that she didn't tell me, or that she never invited me to join in.
Second part.
I've had two girlfriends cheat on me with other girls. I've asked another girl out only to have her say "Sorry, I just got a girlfriend yesterday," which I think counts as another negative point. My friends began calling me "The Turninator" after all this leaked out.
Yeah, my friends refer to me (or my dick, depending on context) as The Turning Point for much the same reason.
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ThomamelasOnly one man can kill this many Russians. Bring his guitar to me! Registered Userregular
In all seriousness, people don't usually need help with their crazy, and targeting crazy people for relationships because they are "more fun" is approaches the disturbing, as depending on the type of crazy, if you step back from it, it can become kinda predatory. Granted, there's a distinct difference between seeking out someone with "personality" and seeking out someone who has a mental illness of some sort.
I hate to simplify it too much, but crazy tends to attract crazy. For every "man that bitch was crazy" story, I often think that the other person has to be just as fucked up, especially the people who continue to draw the crazies like a magnet.
It's generally just the male version of women who are attracted to bad boys they think they can fix. It's generally not so much being fucked up but perhaps being overly optimistic.
As you get older you tolerate crazy less and less even if it was interesting to you when you were younger. You also start recognizing crazy early. Example:
Girl the other day at a coffee shop was definitely cute, but had pink hair and some strange piercings. It dawns on you that for someone to actually do that to themselves there must be some underlying psychological unbalance. You can also see this with: Excessive tanning, Excessive Makeup, Excessive Hair Dye, Certain Clothing Styles/Conditions of Clothing, etc.
But when I was younger these made people more interesting. I knew they were "different" and I also knew that I was "different". Unfortunately (or fortunately) it turns out I'm not AS different as I think I am. I just go about normality in a different way.
As you get older you tolerate crazy less and less even if it was interesting to you when you were younger. You also start recognizing crazy early. Example:
Girl the other day at a coffee shop was definitely cute, but had pink hair and some strange piercings. It dawns on you that for someone to actually do that to themselves there must be some underlying psychological unbalance. You can also see this with: Excessive tanning, Excessive Makeup, Excessive Hair Dye, Certain Clothing Styles/Conditions of Clothing, etc.
But when I was younger these made people more interesting. I knew they were "different" and I also knew that I was "different". Unfortunately (or fortunately) it turns out I'm not AS different as I think I am. I just go about normality in a different way.
So I got SCREWED!
I don't think anyones haircolour or their piercings is any kind of an accurate indicatior of their level of unhinged, to be honest.
I have known and dated plenty of people who would qualify as crazy, none of whom were especially outlandish in their dress sense or anything like that.
My girlfriend cheated on me. I didn't find out until after we'd broken up, but she'd been cheating on me. With another girl.
I don't know what hurts more - that she didn't tell me, or that she never invited me to join in.
Second part.
I've had two girlfriends cheat on me with other girls. I've asked another girl out only to have her say "Sorry, I just got a girlfriend yesterday," which I think counts as another negative point. My friends began calling me "The Turninator" after all this leaked out.
Yeah, my friends refer to me (or my dick, depending on context) as The Turning Point for much the same reason.
I wouldn't think too much about it, especially if you're in high school/university. Those are experimental years, and frankly, bisexuality has become trendy. It has nothing to do with you, so don't hang your ego on it. Seriously. Your dick isn't special. It doesn't sail ships. In either direction.
Girl the other day at a coffee shop was definitely cute, but had pink hair and some strange piercings. It dawns on you that for someone to actually do that to themselves there must be some underlying psychological unbalance. You can also see this with: Excessive tanning, Excessive Makeup, Excessive Hair Dye, Certain Clothing Styles/Conditions of Clothing, etc.
Hair dye and piercings aren't really an indicator of crazy, though if they're 45, then you gotta take a step back. For teenagers/young adults (i.e. most of you whippersnappers on this board), it means absolutely nothing beyond people trying to discover their limits, and at that age, people make a lifestyle out of their hobbies. Not to say that older people don't, just it's not as strong once you have priorities beyond your whims.
As you get older you tolerate crazy less and less even if it was interesting to you when you were younger. You also start recognizing crazy early. Example:
Girl the other day at a coffee shop was definitely cute, but had pink hair and some strange piercings. It dawns on you that for someone to actually do that to themselves there must be some underlying psychological unbalance. You can also see this with: Excessive tanning, Excessive Makeup, Excessive Hair Dye, Certain Clothing Styles/Conditions of Clothing, etc.
But when I was younger these made people more interesting. I knew they were "different" and I also knew that I was "different". Unfortunately (or fortunately) it turns out I'm not AS different as I think I am. I just go about normality in a different way.
So I got SCREWED!
Toward the end of my freshman year of college I dyed my hair BRIGHT red as a social experiment. I didn't really care what color my hair was, so whatever. I didn't change the way I dressed or anything else about me, just my hair color. It was about this color.
Everyone treated me differently, even people my age. Everyone simply assumed I was crazy without ever talking to me.
My point is, superficial things like that often do not reflect at all on the person's level of crazy. It's simply something they decided to do for whatever reason, usually because it is fun. My experiment was for a week, but I used permanent dye so I lived with it for quite a while (I have very long hair so it took a while to grow out). I didn't mind, I found it entertaining. Don't judge books by covers blah blah blah.
My girlfriend cheated on me. I didn't find out until after we'd broken up, but she'd been cheating on me. With another girl.
I don't know what hurts more - that she didn't tell me, or that she never invited me to join in.
Second part.
I've had two girlfriends cheat on me with other girls. I've asked another girl out only to have her say "Sorry, I just got a girlfriend yesterday," which I think counts as another negative point. My friends began calling me "The Turninator" after all this leaked out.
Yeah, my friends refer to me (or my dick, depending on context) as The Turning Point for much the same reason.
I wouldn't think too much about it, especially if you're in high school/university. Those are experimental years, and frankly, bisexuality has become trendy. It has nothing to do with you, so don't hang your ego on it. Seriously. Your dick isn't special. It doesn't sail ships. In either direction.
Yeah, I know. It's been long enough that now it's just kinda sad, not the steel-toed kick in the balls it was when it first happened.
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Gabriel_Pitt(effective against Russian warships)Registered Userregular
edited August 2009
Get over it. My first girlfriend from high school is now a guy.
I broke up with my first girlfriend, the one who cheated on me, because I was fed up. I was. I was desperately unhappy being stuck in one of those relationships where the girl expects you to cowtow to each and everyone one of her demands. I wasn't allowed to bring home friends from work because that encroached on our "us" time, but she was allowed to bring friends home. I wasn't allowed to go out with the lads, but she was allowed to go out with her friends. She didn't like me writing because it meant I couldn't be sat in the front room with her watching Pokemon, and she didn't like me acting because she didn't like the idea of me playing a role where someone else was playing my romantic interest. It made her jealous, and she got very jealous very easily. She once got jealous when a friend from High School called me, distressed, to say she'd broken up with her boyfriend.
Seeing as the only thing I am actually good for is writing and acting, and seeing as I was no longer allowed to do these things, I decided that maybe my previous logical reasons for staying with her (namely, that I would never find anyone else and that I was a pathetic loser, a reasoning that she agreed upon and actively reminded me of on a regular basis) was a load of bollocks. I was better than this. And so I left.
Eight months later, I moved from the UK to sunny sunny Los Angeles to pursue a writing career. I launched Jump Leads. Jump Leads became popular and caught the eye of cartoonist David Reddick, who at the time was acting as Editor-in-Chief of SoulGeek Webcomics. Jump Leads is added to the SoulGeek Webcomics line at David's request, and things get very weird from there.
Jump Leads starts being advertised very prominently on SoulGeek, which is primarily a dating site for geeks (and, yeah, I'm a registered member there). Someone contacted me through SoulGeek saying she was a fan of the comic and it'd be nice if we could maybe meet up some time. And, because I have difficulty processing the concept of having any level of fame, I thought, "Wow, this chick digs me. Let's have dinner and a movie!" It didn't help that it had, by this point, been a year since I'd broken up with my ex, and I'd moved to a country where I knew almost no-one, and I was crippled by loneliness.
So we went out. We saw a movie. We grabbed dinner. It was nice. Fun. Pleasant. The girl wasn't anything special, but I continued to see her because, well, she was someone to see.
One day, as we were laying on her bed, she asks me what I see in her. I know this question. I've heard it before. I've asked it before. It's the question of someone who is insecure and needs affirmation. I answer it as best I can, and then ask her what she sees in me.
"Well," she says, "You have a webcomic."
And that was it.
The "relationship" ended shortly thereafter. I still get the occasional message from her.
I'm going into a rather dangerous line of work which she always tried to guilt me out of as well. We ended up getting a pet together who sadly god sick and died. Towards the end of the relationship, she ended up confessing to me that she had a dream that the pet would die and it did. Keep in mind the pet was sick for a while and really saw it coming. She then confessed to me, completely seriously, that she also had a dream that I got hurt at work and that the reason she monopolized all my time was because, due to her newly found clairvoyance, it was her duty to protect me from getting hurt on the job. Like, her cosmic duty/destiny.
Ouch. and I thought Twilight was difficult.
well, whenever my mom dreams of fishes like 90% of the time (only one time she told me and it didn't happen) someone's preggers
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Your sig is too tall. -Thanatos
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Gabriel_Pitt(effective against Russian warships)Registered Userregular
edited August 2009
Right now I'm batting 3/5 that when I go on a couple day spicy food eating binge, that mean's someone around me is expecting (as in 3/5 times that I've noted it happening, I'd been in the extended company of someone who was pregnant, but hasn't told, didn't know it yet). It's gotta be something about pheromones.
I don't think anyones haircolour or their piercings is any kind of an accurate indicatior of their level of unhinged, to be honest.
I have known and dated plenty of people who would qualify as crazy, none of whom were especially outlandish in their dress sense or anything like that.
Pretty much. The really crazy ones in the stories I posted all had normal hair colors, no tattoos and none had more then normal ear piercings. And we need some more stories.
Story one: In which our hero learns to always know where his pants are.
This one takes place while I was dating the girl who taught me that girls in the drama club love drama. Now the girl from that story had a taste for exhibitionist sex. And by this time we had achieved many of the normal milestones for that kind of thing. No car, no lake, and no state park was safe from us. Alas the same could not be said of one of the local beaches. We had just seen some movie and she decided that she really, really wanted to have sex on the beach. And being a young eager male, I said sure. So we went to a local beach that was a bit out of the way and we did what young teenagers in love do without supervision. As we were about to finish up, I found myself blinded as a flashlight was shined into my face. I was a little bit distracted and as such it took me a little bit longer then you'd think to figure out why I couldn't see.
The cop told us to get our clothes and we quickly did. Except somewhere in our haste my pants had disappeared. But my luck wasn't completely terrible. I grew up in a small town, went to high school in a slightly larger town. Which is where my parents had gone to school. The cop had been a classmate of my father. As such he followed us back to my dad's place, told him what happened and left it at that. My father took the girl home and left me to stew. I was expecting a lecture. I was not expecting a high five.
Story two: In which our hero is reminded about knowing where one's pants are and the joys of spare pants.
Same girl as the previous story. So being caught having sex in public had really only driven the girl to even more lustful heights. But as you might imagine, I was not the most welcome person at her house. So the lass decided that I should sneak in. And being deeply in lust, I did so. We began to fool around in her bed. Which lead to more then fooling around. But one really important detail to this plan was forgotten by me. The girl in question was a screamer and me not being completely incompetent in bed she did what came naturally to her. I'm not sure which parent it woke, but her dad came running down the hallway. I grabbed what clothing was at hand, which alas did not include my pants, and dove out the window and ran. Apparently all of the time in the drama club had sharped her lying skills and I never heard about it again. Thankfully I had spare pants in the car.
My friend's ex was pretty insane, specifically their breakup. This chick pretty much sucked. She was increasingly antisocial as the relationship went along, and near the end when we would go over to their apartment she would be in the bedroom playing Second Life with the door closed, not talking to anyone except to take my buddy aside and fight with him for an hour while his friends were there. She wouldn't let him do anything that she didn't do (concerts, drinking, hanging out outside his place, basically anything not stereotypically dorky). But the suck was gradual, and they moved in and were actually engaged before the crazy started being unleashed.
Anyway, one day, my friend is walking by the computer while his lady is at the restroom. He sees, in a chat window, something along the lines of "[her sn]: you didn't complain when I fucked you in the ass last night. "It turns out she had been cheating on him with another chick. For about 8 months or so. This would be before they moved in together and signed a one-year lease that was only about 3 months in, and before she accepted his marriage proposal. So he had to scramble to find another roommate before the next month's rent was due, and was generally fucked.
The best part about this whole story was a day or so later, it turns out that this chick the bitch in question had been fucking was not so much a chick. She was actually a 49 year old pre-op transsexual, and just looked like a guy with a balding mullet.
This isn't about a crazy girlfriend (she was far from it) but a crazy situation. And it can certainly be argued that I was pretty damn crazy in this situation.
Right before my senior year of high school, I'm working at a training retreat for a positive peer pressure group in high school. Think Up With People only with 1.67% less cheese. Though somehow the membership of most of the more highly regarded cliques makes it a cool thing to be in. At any rate, it's there that I meet Jamie. She's a sophomore at the same school, very cute, utterly vivacious and almost always smiling. Fantastic girl. We hit it off pretty much immediately.
I'm elated. She's loads of fun and likes spending time with me! Silly me thought I was undatable! She seems really into me, and I'm really into her! Life is grand! But. (Of course there's a but.) She's very close to her parents, who are friendly but make it obvious that their daughter is their life. Not to mention the three of them are pretty active in a small Methodist church out in the country, filled with people who are also friendly but also seem quite protective of her. I quickly get the impression that if I step just one toe out of line I will immediately get drawn and quartered.
Add in the facts that I was inexperienced, I was fairly non-assertive and terrified to make the first move and I was horrible at reading signals, and the end result was that I barely touched her during the six months we dated. Did I want to? Hell yes. She was cute, I was hormonal and I was developing feelings for her. But I didn't. Sure, I hugged her, and I held her hand a few times, but in the entire six months we dated I didn't even kiss her. I was just too scared.
At the end of the six months she broke up with me, saying she didn't think things were working out. I was hurt, but I got over it soon enough and we stayed on good terms. Heck, we kept talking regularly.
Cut to the end of the school year. I'm on the newspaper staff, and the staff had just selected the current sophomores who would be on the staff next year and help out with the production of the last paper to get training from us. She's one of them. So we wind up working on the paper together after school hours one night. I have no idea what came over me, but suddenly I'm Mr. Suave. I'm flirty, I rubbed her shoulders, and at one point I picked her up and carried her down the hall. We both had a great time.
That night, she wrote me a note where she finally opens up to me about why we broke up. Namely, because I never touched her. She wanted me to touch her... badly, in fact. The fact that I didn't drove her crazy and made her think that I wasn't interested, and she was the type to expect the guy to make the first move. But that night, I had touched her more than I did in months of dating. She realized I was into her and capable of being physically affectionate, and she floated the idea of getting back together.
But I didn't get that note for awhile.
I finally got the note when her parents gave it to me, two weeks after Jamie died. She had an exceedingly rare blood condition that literally prevented her body from making red blood cells. Every month, she'd make a three-hour trip to a Memphis hospital for a full blood transfusion. I knew about that from the beginning, and since she seemed healthy I didn't let it bother me (unlike other guys she attempted to date). But she knew that people with the disease died young... better treatment was helping them live longer, but the future was very uncertain. (When she stopped growing as fast, the iron that wasn't being flushed out of her body as a side effect built up and caused her to fade, all within two weeks.) How did she react to knowing she would have a short life? She lived life to the fullest. She had fun. And she wanted to have all kinds of fun with the right guy. A guy who absolutely wanted the same sort of fun but was too chickenshit to act on it until it was too late.
The crushing guilt stayed with me for quite a while, but I did learn from the experience.
Hrm, crazy. Yes well. I essentially dated Marla Singer my sophomore year in highschool. She decided i was her boyfriend based solely on the fact that we both liked Smashing Pumpkins. She gave me a handjob during a movie in our creative writing class when the old lady substitute fell asleep. She was clingy as fuck, every lunch period was a 40 minute stretch of her CLUTCHING some part of me, pubicly acceptable or not. She had neat little rows of scars up and down her arms (this being my first encounter with that i had no idea what a warning sign THAT was) When she told me she wanted me to be the first person to fuck her other than her dad... I bailed.
Nope you're too crazy, sorry, you're cute, and we like the same music. All this other shit, I can't handle.
That afternoon i get a call from her saying she has taken an entire bottle of aspirin and was hafway through a bottle of vodka and she wants me to be the one to hear her die. Great. I panic and haul ass to her house, and bang on the door until her mom answers, I tearfuly tell her what is transpiring in her daughter's bedroom and ambulances are called, stomachs are pumped, fathers glares are turned on me. I never spoke to her again.
Potential future crazy that I'm not sure whether i should put the brakes on right now or let it ride and see where it goes. My wife (of 3 years but we have been together for almost 9) has this friend from highschool. This friend is a girl and is hot. This friend has apparently had a crush on my wife for years, my wife is well aware of this. We have talked some at various times about having a threesome, but have repeatedly said we could never do it with like some stranger from a bar, as we both associate emotion and sex quite strongly. Now... I'm cooking dinner for the two of them sometime this weekend. This will either end up being awesome or horrifying. Guess we'll see.
This isn't about a crazy girlfriend (she was far from it) but a crazy situation. And it can certainly be argued that I was pretty damn crazy in this situation.
Right before my senior year of high school, I'm working at a training retreat for a positive peer pressure group in high school. Think Up With People only with 1.67% less cheese. Though somehow the membership of most of the more highly regarded cliques makes it a cool thing to be in. At any rate, it's there that I meet Jamie. She's a sophomore at the same school, very cute, utterly vivacious and almost always smiling. Fantastic girl. We hit it off pretty much immediately.
I'm elated. She's loads of fun and likes spending time with me! Silly me thought I was undatable! She seems really into me, and I'm really into her! Life is grand! But. (Of course there's a but.) She's very close to her parents, who are friendly but make it obvious that their daughter is their life. Not to mention the three of them are pretty active in a small Methodist church out in the country, filled with people who are also friendly but also seem quite protective of her. I quickly get the impression that if I step just one toe out of line I will immediately get drawn and quartered.
Add in the facts that I was inexperienced, I was fairly non-assertive and terrified to make the first move and I was horrible at reading signals, and the end result was that I barely touched her during the six months we dated. Did I want to? Hell yes. She was cute, I was hormonal and I was developing feelings for her. But I didn't. Sure, I hugged her, and I held her hand a few times, but in the entire six months we dated I didn't even kiss her. I was just too scared.
At the end of the six months she broke up with me, saying she didn't think things were working out. I was hurt, but I got over it soon enough and we stayed on good terms. Heck, we kept talking regularly.
Cut to the end of the school year. I'm on the newspaper staff, and the staff had just selected the current sophomores who would be on the staff next year and help out with the production of the last paper to get training from us. She's one of them. So we wind up working on the paper together after school hours one night. I have no idea what came over me, but suddenly I'm Mr. Suave. I'm flirty, I rubbed her shoulders, and at one point I picked her up and carried her down the hall. We both had a great time.
That night, she wrote me a note where she finally opens up to me about why we broke up. Namely, because I never touched her. She wanted me to touch her... badly, in fact. The fact that she didn't drove her crazy and made me think that I wasn't interested, and she was the type to expect the guy to make the first move. But that night, I had touched her more than I did in months of dating. She realized I was into her and capable of being physically affectionate, and she floated the idea of getting back together.
But I didn't get that note for awhile.
I finally got the note when her parents gave it to me, two weeks after Jamie died. She had an exceedingly rare blood condition that literally prevented her body from making red blood cells. Every month, she'd make a three-hour trip to a Memphis hospital for a full blood transfusion. I knew about that from the beginning, and since she seemed healthy I didn't let it bother me (unlike other guys she attempted to date). But she knew that people with the disease died young... better treatment was helping them live longer, but the future was very uncertain. (When she stopped growing as fast, the iron that wasn't being flushed out of her body as a side effect built up and caused her to fade, all within two weeks.) How did she react to knowing she would have a short life? She lived life to the fullest. She had fun. And she wanted to have all kinds of fun with the right guy. A guy who absolutely wanted the same sort of fun but was too chickenshit to act on it until it was too late.
The crushing guilt stayed with me for quite a while, but I did learn from the experience.
This isn't about a crazy girlfriend (she was far from it) but a crazy situation. And it can certainly be argued that I was pretty damn crazy in this situation.
Right before my senior year of high school, I'm working at a training retreat for a positive peer pressure group in high school. Think Up With People only with 1.67% less cheese. Though somehow the membership of most of the more highly regarded cliques makes it a cool thing to be in. At any rate, it's there that I meet Jamie. She's a sophomore at the same school, very cute, utterly vivacious and almost always smiling. Fantastic girl. We hit it off pretty much immediately.
I'm elated. She's loads of fun and likes spending time with me! Silly me thought I was undatable! She seems really into me, and I'm really into her! Life is grand! But. (Of course there's a but.) She's very close to her parents, who are friendly but make it obvious that their daughter is their life. Not to mention the three of them are pretty active in a small Methodist church out in the country, filled with people who are also friendly but also seem quite protective of her. I quickly get the impression that if I step just one toe out of line I will immediately get drawn and quartered.
Add in the facts that I was inexperienced, I was fairly non-assertive and terrified to make the first move and I was horrible at reading signals, and the end result was that I barely touched her during the six months we dated. Did I want to? Hell yes. She was cute, I was hormonal and I was developing feelings for her. But I didn't. Sure, I hugged her, and I held her hand a few times, but in the entire six months we dated I didn't even kiss her. I was just too scared.
At the end of the six months she broke up with me, saying she didn't think things were working out. I was hurt, but I got over it soon enough and we stayed on good terms. Heck, we kept talking regularly.
Cut to the end of the school year. I'm on the newspaper staff, and the staff had just selected the current sophomores who would be on the staff next year and help out with the production of the last paper to get training from us. She's one of them. So we wind up working on the paper together after school hours one night. I have no idea what came over me, but suddenly I'm Mr. Suave. I'm flirty, I rubbed her shoulders, and at one point I picked her up and carried her down the hall. We both had a great time.
That night, she wrote me a note where she finally opens up to me about why we broke up. Namely, because I never touched her. She wanted me to touch her... badly, in fact. The fact that she didn't drove her crazy and made me think that I wasn't interested, and she was the type to expect the guy to make the first move. But that night, I had touched her more than I did in months of dating. She realized I was into her and capable of being physically affectionate, and she floated the idea of getting back together.
But I didn't get that note for awhile.
I finally got the note when her parents gave it to me, two weeks after Jamie died. She had an exceedingly rare blood condition that literally prevented her body from making red blood cells. Every month, she'd make a three-hour trip to a Memphis hospital for a full blood transfusion. I knew about that from the beginning, and since she seemed healthy I didn't let it bother me (unlike other guys she attempted to date). But she knew that people with the disease died young... better treatment was helping them live longer, but the future was very uncertain. (When she stopped growing as fast, the iron that wasn't being flushed out of her body as a side effect built up and caused her to fade, all within two weeks.) How did she react to knowing she would have a short life? She lived life to the fullest. She had fun. And she wanted to have all kinds of fun with the right guy. A guy who absolutely wanted the same sort of fun but was too chickenshit to act on it until it was too late.
The crushing guilt stayed with me for quite a while, but I did learn from the experience.
Thankfully, I had spare pants in the car.
Unfortunately, the pants were booby-trapped.
THATS an epitaph
Even betterer.
Also, if you ever find yourself saying that because you are in a relationship you or your partner are "allowed" or "not allowed" to do something, it is almost certainly because you are in a bad relationship.
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PSN: Broodax- battle.net: broodax#1163
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ApogeeLancks In Every Game EverRegistered Userregular
I don't have anything that compares to alien sex cults, girlfriend-beating navy seals, or romantic Hell's Angels... but I'll make my minor contribution. It's not even a story about me, it's the opposite: a girl story that involves every male friends save one and me.
So this girl is called Caro, a friend of the sister of one of the guys, about 16-17 when me and my group of friends are about 19-21. She's not particularly pretty, but nice, and smart. She was doing pre-med in college when this started.
Bob likes Caro, but is too shy and indecisive to do anything about it. Caro likes Bob, but while she waits for him to get his game on she figures she could have a little fun. So her and Jim decide to have a one-night "friends with benefits" thing. Did I mention Jim and Bob are childhood best friends? Bob was not too thrilled about that; plans to ask her out went out the window. Jim, on the other hand, developed feelings for Caro post-sex and tried to make a move on her, which she rejected.
So now Caro has lost Bob and gained a Jim she doesn't want. What to do? Well, her plan is to act flirty with every guy in the gang to get Bob jealous into taking her back. Years later, I found out that plan succeeded in getting her some sex with Will, one of our friends who is otherwise uninvolved in this story. The plan failed to get Bob, and eventually succeeded in turning everyone off of her. Save for one: Dan.
Dan is a nice guy. He dropped out of school years ago and has a technical job at that point. Dan and Caro very quickly get engaged, ring and all. Caro drops out of pre-med to spend more time on her life with Dan. All this is done secretly behind the back of Caro's family, because Caro fears that her dad "wouldn't understand" that her girl is abandoning her dreams of being a doctor to get married to a drop-out 4-5 years older than her. Anyway, they didn't get married - after a year of this Caro dumped Dan.
Years later, she made a comeback, sexing then dating Chuck, one of the more desperate guys in our circle of friends. The way Chuck tells it, the relationship was going well and he was on his way to tell her he Loves her, to solidify things because he didn't want her to be the One That Got Away. When he got there, before he could say anything, she dumped him.
Months later at the New Year party, Chuck and Dan reminisced about Caro and how they both got played and dumped by the same girl; a conversation Dan's current girlfriend didn't quite enjoy.
So in summary, this girl was involved, either emotionally, sexually, or both, with every guy in my group of friends save me and one other. And most of them were overlapping. This was the tangled and ridiculous relationship that got me and that one other guy to start referring to the rest of the group as "Melrose Place".
This story wigged me out, because every name is from my group of friends, including the girl. Thankfully, I don't think any of this occoured to us (although according the story I got lucky).
Hot damn, my new favourite pickup line is forming in my brain as I type.
...Gabe and Tycho must have had a lot of choice for their respective spouses...
Potential future crazy that I'm not sure whether i should put the brakes on right now or let it ride and see where it goes. My wife (of 3 years but we have been together for almost 9) has this friend from highschool. This friend is a girl and is hot. This friend has apparently had a crush on my wife for years, my wife is well aware of this. We have talked some at various times about having a threesome, but have repeatedly said we could never do it with like some stranger from a bar, as we both associate emotion and sex quite strongly. Now... I'm cooking dinner for the two of them sometime this weekend. This will either end up being awesome or horrifying. Guess we'll see.
If you don't follow this up, we will hunt you down. This is the kind of thing every man needs to know about!
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HalfmexI mock your value systemYou also appear foolish in the eyes of othersRegistered Userregular
edited August 2009
God in heaven, cloudeagle.
Never post again.
Seriously. I mean, not really, but
God
GOD
That is the most depressing thing I have ever read, ever.
I don't have anything that compares to alien sex cults, girlfriend-beating navy seals, or romantic Hell's Angels... but I'll make my minor contribution. It's not even a story about me, it's the opposite: a girl story that involves every male friends save one and me.
So this girl is called Caro, a friend of the sister of one of the guys, about 16-17 when me and my group of friends are about 19-21. She's not particularly pretty, but nice, and smart. She was doing pre-med in college when this started.
Bob likes Caro, but is too shy and indecisive to do anything about it. Caro likes Bob, but while she waits for him to get his game on she figures she could have a little fun. So her and Jim decide to have a one-night "friends with benefits" thing. Did I mention Jim and Bob are childhood best friends? Bob was not too thrilled about that; plans to ask her out went out the window. Jim, on the other hand, developed feelings for Caro post-sex and tried to make a move on her, which she rejected.
So now Caro has lost Bob and gained a Jim she doesn't want. What to do? Well, her plan is to act flirty with every guy in the gang to get Bob jealous into taking her back. Years later, I found out that plan succeeded in getting her some sex with Will, one of our friends who is otherwise uninvolved in this story. The plan failed to get Bob, and eventually succeeded in turning everyone off of her. Save for one: Dan.
Dan is a nice guy. He dropped out of school years ago and has a technical job at that point. Dan and Caro very quickly get engaged, ring and all. Caro drops out of pre-med to spend more time on her life with Dan. All this is done secretly behind the back of Caro's family, because Caro fears that her dad "wouldn't understand" that her girl is abandoning her dreams of being a doctor to get married to a drop-out 4-5 years older than her. Anyway, they didn't get married - after a year of this Caro dumped Dan.
Years later, she made a comeback, sexing then dating Chuck, one of the more desperate guys in our circle of friends. The way Chuck tells it, the relationship was going well and he was on his way to tell her he Loves her, to solidify things because he didn't want her to be the One That Got Away. When he got there, before he could say anything, she dumped him.
Months later at the New Year party, Chuck and Dan reminisced about Caro and how they both got played and dumped by the same girl; a conversation Dan's current girlfriend didn't quite enjoy.
So in summary, this girl was involved, either emotionally, sexually, or both, with every guy in my group of friends save me and one other. And most of them were overlapping. This was the tangled and ridiculous relationship that got me and that one other guy to start referring to the rest of the group as "Melrose Place".
This story wigged me out, because every name is from my group of friends, including the girl. Thankfully, I don't think any of this occoured to us (although according the story I got lucky).
Pretty sure Richy lives in Canada. hmmmmmmm....?
JebusUD on
and I wonder about my neighbors even though I don't have them
but they're listening to every word I say
This isn't about a crazy girlfriend (she was far from it) but a crazy situation. And it can certainly be argued that I was pretty damn crazy in this situation.
Right before my senior year of high school, I'm working at a training retreat for a positive peer pressure group in high school. Think Up With People only with 1.67% less cheese. Though somehow the membership of most of the more highly regarded cliques makes it a cool thing to be in. At any rate, it's there that I meet Jamie. She's a sophomore at the same school, very cute, utterly vivacious and almost always smiling. Fantastic girl. We hit it off pretty much immediately.
I'm elated. She's loads of fun and likes spending time with me! Silly me thought I was undatable! She seems really into me, and I'm really into her! Life is grand! But. (Of course there's a but.) She's very close to her parents, who are friendly but make it obvious that their daughter is their life. Not to mention the three of them are pretty active in a small Methodist church out in the country, filled with people who are also friendly but also seem quite protective of her. I quickly get the impression that if I step just one toe out of line I will immediately get drawn and quartered.
Add in the facts that I was inexperienced, I was fairly non-assertive and terrified to make the first move and I was horrible at reading signals, and the end result was that I barely touched her during the six months we dated. Did I want to? Hell yes. She was cute, I was hormonal and I was developing feelings for her. But I didn't. Sure, I hugged her, and I held her hand a few times, but in the entire six months we dated I didn't even kiss her. I was just too scared.
At the end of the six months she broke up with me, saying she didn't think things were working out. I was hurt, but I got over it soon enough and we stayed on good terms. Heck, we kept talking regularly.
Cut to the end of the school year. I'm on the newspaper staff, and the staff had just selected the current sophomores who would be on the staff next year and help out with the production of the last paper to get training from us. She's one of them. So we wind up working on the paper together after school hours one night. I have no idea what came over me, but suddenly I'm Mr. Suave. I'm flirty, I rubbed her shoulders, and at one point I picked her up and carried her down the hall. We both had a great time.
That night, she wrote me a note where she finally opens up to me about why we broke up. Namely, because I never touched her. She wanted me to touch her... badly, in fact. The fact that I didn't drove her crazy and made her think that I wasn't interested, and she was the type to expect the guy to make the first move. But that night, I had touched her more than I did in months of dating. She realized I was into her and capable of being physically affectionate, and she floated the idea of getting back together.
But I didn't get that note for awhile.
I finally got the note when her parents gave it to me, two weeks after Jamie died. She had an exceedingly rare blood condition that literally prevented her body from making red blood cells. Every month, she'd make a three-hour trip to a Memphis hospital for a full blood transfusion. I knew about that from the beginning, and since she seemed healthy I didn't let it bother me (unlike other guys she attempted to date). But she knew that people with the disease died young... better treatment was helping them live longer, but the future was very uncertain. (When she stopped growing as fast, the iron that wasn't being flushed out of her body as a side effect built up and caused her to fade, all within two weeks.) How did she react to knowing she would have a short life? She lived life to the fullest. She had fun. And she wanted to have all kinds of fun with the right guy. A guy who absolutely wanted the same sort of fun but was too chickenshit to act on it until it was too late.
The crushing guilt stayed with me for quite a while, but I did learn from the experience.
Are you Nicholas Sparks? Is this a draft for your next book, Mr. Sparks? My girlfriend would love to meet you.
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I hate to simplify it too much, but crazy tends to attract crazy. For every "man that bitch was crazy" story, I often think that the other person has to be just as fucked up, especially the people who continue to draw the crazies like a magnet.
It's generally just the male version of women who are attracted to bad boys they think they can fix. It's generally not so much being fucked up but perhaps being overly optimistic.
Girl the other day at a coffee shop was definitely cute, but had pink hair and some strange piercings. It dawns on you that for someone to actually do that to themselves there must be some underlying psychological unbalance. You can also see this with: Excessive tanning, Excessive Makeup, Excessive Hair Dye, Certain Clothing Styles/Conditions of Clothing, etc.
But when I was younger these made people more interesting. I knew they were "different" and I also knew that I was "different". Unfortunately (or fortunately) it turns out I'm not AS different as I think I am. I just go about normality in a different way.
So I got SCREWED!
Damn it Arch, if I didn't just take my current sig I'd take this in a heartbeat.
I don't think anyones haircolour or their piercings is any kind of an accurate indicatior of their level of unhinged, to be honest.
I have known and dated plenty of people who would qualify as crazy, none of whom were especially outlandish in their dress sense or anything like that.
Hair dye and piercings aren't really an indicator of crazy, though if they're 45, then you gotta take a step back. For teenagers/young adults (i.e. most of you whippersnappers on this board), it means absolutely nothing beyond people trying to discover their limits, and at that age, people make a lifestyle out of their hobbies. Not to say that older people don't, just it's not as strong once you have priorities beyond your whims.
Toward the end of my freshman year of college I dyed my hair BRIGHT red as a social experiment. I didn't really care what color my hair was, so whatever. I didn't change the way I dressed or anything else about me, just my hair color. It was about this color.
Everyone treated me differently, even people my age. Everyone simply assumed I was crazy without ever talking to me.
My point is, superficial things like that often do not reflect at all on the person's level of crazy. It's simply something they decided to do for whatever reason, usually because it is fun. My experiment was for a week, but I used permanent dye so I lived with it for quite a while (I have very long hair so it took a while to grow out). I didn't mind, I found it entertaining. Don't judge books by covers blah blah blah.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IvkTdNbJ3EY
Seeing as the only thing I am actually good for is writing and acting, and seeing as I was no longer allowed to do these things, I decided that maybe my previous logical reasons for staying with her (namely, that I would never find anyone else and that I was a pathetic loser, a reasoning that she agreed upon and actively reminded me of on a regular basis) was a load of bollocks. I was better than this. And so I left.
Eight months later, I moved from the UK to sunny sunny Los Angeles to pursue a writing career. I launched Jump Leads. Jump Leads became popular and caught the eye of cartoonist David Reddick, who at the time was acting as Editor-in-Chief of SoulGeek Webcomics. Jump Leads is added to the SoulGeek Webcomics line at David's request, and things get very weird from there.
Jump Leads starts being advertised very prominently on SoulGeek, which is primarily a dating site for geeks (and, yeah, I'm a registered member there). Someone contacted me through SoulGeek saying she was a fan of the comic and it'd be nice if we could maybe meet up some time. And, because I have difficulty processing the concept of having any level of fame, I thought, "Wow, this chick digs me. Let's have dinner and a movie!" It didn't help that it had, by this point, been a year since I'd broken up with my ex, and I'd moved to a country where I knew almost no-one, and I was crippled by loneliness.
So we went out. We saw a movie. We grabbed dinner. It was nice. Fun. Pleasant. The girl wasn't anything special, but I continued to see her because, well, she was someone to see.
One day, as we were laying on her bed, she asks me what I see in her. I know this question. I've heard it before. I've asked it before. It's the question of someone who is insecure and needs affirmation. I answer it as best I can, and then ask her what she sees in me.
"Well," she says, "You have a webcomic."
And that was it.
The "relationship" ended shortly thereafter. I still get the occasional message from her.
Yeah, you win.
well, whenever my mom dreams of fishes like 90% of the time (only one time she told me and it didn't happen) someone's preggers
You know that whole Otherkin community thing?
I dated an elf girl for two weeks.
Shockingly, elves are indistinguishable from humans with huge egos and entitlement complexes who write a lot of poetry.
Well damn, maybe she WAS an elf. :winky:
but they're listening to every word I say
Pretty much. The really crazy ones in the stories I posted all had normal hair colors, no tattoos and none had more then normal ear piercings. And we need some more stories.
Story one: In which our hero learns to always know where his pants are.
This one takes place while I was dating the girl who taught me that girls in the drama club love drama. Now the girl from that story had a taste for exhibitionist sex. And by this time we had achieved many of the normal milestones for that kind of thing. No car, no lake, and no state park was safe from us. Alas the same could not be said of one of the local beaches. We had just seen some movie and she decided that she really, really wanted to have sex on the beach. And being a young eager male, I said sure. So we went to a local beach that was a bit out of the way and we did what young teenagers in love do without supervision. As we were about to finish up, I found myself blinded as a flashlight was shined into my face. I was a little bit distracted and as such it took me a little bit longer then you'd think to figure out why I couldn't see.
The cop told us to get our clothes and we quickly did. Except somewhere in our haste my pants had disappeared. But my luck wasn't completely terrible. I grew up in a small town, went to high school in a slightly larger town. Which is where my parents had gone to school. The cop had been a classmate of my father. As such he followed us back to my dad's place, told him what happened and left it at that. My father took the girl home and left me to stew. I was expecting a lecture. I was not expecting a high five.
Story two: In which our hero is reminded about knowing where one's pants are and the joys of spare pants.
Same girl as the previous story. So being caught having sex in public had really only driven the girl to even more lustful heights. But as you might imagine, I was not the most welcome person at her house. So the lass decided that I should sneak in. And being deeply in lust, I did so. We began to fool around in her bed. Which lead to more then fooling around. But one really important detail to this plan was forgotten by me. The girl in question was a screamer and me not being completely incompetent in bed she did what came naturally to her. I'm not sure which parent it woke, but her dad came running down the hallway. I grabbed what clothing was at hand, which alas did not include my pants, and dove out the window and ran. Apparently all of the time in the drama club had sharped her lying skills and I never heard about it again. Thankfully I had spare pants in the car.
Very nice. This sounds like what they've going to put on your tombstone dude.
I hope I can come up with a better epitaph for myself before I die.
As epitaphs go, that's a pretty entertaining one.
The thing is, that's not enough of en epitaph.
THATS an epitaph
Anyway, one day, my friend is walking by the computer while his lady is at the restroom. He sees, in a chat window, something along the lines of "[her sn]: you didn't complain when I fucked you in the ass last night. "It turns out she had been cheating on him with another chick. For about 8 months or so. This would be before they moved in together and signed a one-year lease that was only about 3 months in, and before she accepted his marriage proposal. So he had to scramble to find another roommate before the next month's rent was due, and was generally fucked.
The best part about this whole story was a day or so later, it turns out that this chick the bitch in question had been fucking was not so much a chick. She was actually a 49 year old pre-op transsexual, and just looked like a guy with a balding mullet.
tl;dr: My friend's ex was a tranny fucker.
Right before my senior year of high school, I'm working at a training retreat for a positive peer pressure group in high school. Think Up With People only with 1.67% less cheese. Though somehow the membership of most of the more highly regarded cliques makes it a cool thing to be in. At any rate, it's there that I meet Jamie. She's a sophomore at the same school, very cute, utterly vivacious and almost always smiling. Fantastic girl. We hit it off pretty much immediately.
I'm elated. She's loads of fun and likes spending time with me! Silly me thought I was undatable! She seems really into me, and I'm really into her! Life is grand! But. (Of course there's a but.) She's very close to her parents, who are friendly but make it obvious that their daughter is their life. Not to mention the three of them are pretty active in a small Methodist church out in the country, filled with people who are also friendly but also seem quite protective of her. I quickly get the impression that if I step just one toe out of line I will immediately get drawn and quartered.
Add in the facts that I was inexperienced, I was fairly non-assertive and terrified to make the first move and I was horrible at reading signals, and the end result was that I barely touched her during the six months we dated. Did I want to? Hell yes. She was cute, I was hormonal and I was developing feelings for her. But I didn't. Sure, I hugged her, and I held her hand a few times, but in the entire six months we dated I didn't even kiss her. I was just too scared.
At the end of the six months she broke up with me, saying she didn't think things were working out. I was hurt, but I got over it soon enough and we stayed on good terms. Heck, we kept talking regularly.
Cut to the end of the school year. I'm on the newspaper staff, and the staff had just selected the current sophomores who would be on the staff next year and help out with the production of the last paper to get training from us. She's one of them. So we wind up working on the paper together after school hours one night. I have no idea what came over me, but suddenly I'm Mr. Suave. I'm flirty, I rubbed her shoulders, and at one point I picked her up and carried her down the hall. We both had a great time.
That night, she wrote me a note where she finally opens up to me about why we broke up. Namely, because I never touched her. She wanted me to touch her... badly, in fact. The fact that I didn't drove her crazy and made her think that I wasn't interested, and she was the type to expect the guy to make the first move. But that night, I had touched her more than I did in months of dating. She realized I was into her and capable of being physically affectionate, and she floated the idea of getting back together.
But I didn't get that note for awhile.
The crushing guilt stayed with me for quite a while, but I did learn from the experience.
That thread just dies too. No conclusion.
Nope you're too crazy, sorry, you're cute, and we like the same music. All this other shit, I can't handle.
That afternoon i get a call from her saying she has taken an entire bottle of aspirin and was hafway through a bottle of vodka and she wants me to be the one to hear her die. Great. I panic and haul ass to her house, and bang on the door until her mom answers, I tearfuly tell her what is transpiring in her daughter's bedroom and ambulances are called, stomachs are pumped, fathers glares are turned on me. I never spoke to her again.
Potential future crazy that I'm not sure whether i should put the brakes on right now or let it ride and see where it goes. My wife (of 3 years but we have been together for almost 9) has this friend from highschool. This friend is a girl and is hot. This friend has apparently had a crush on my wife for years, my wife is well aware of this. We have talked some at various times about having a threesome, but have repeatedly said we could never do it with like some stranger from a bar, as we both associate emotion and sex quite strongly. Now... I'm cooking dinner for the two of them sometime this weekend. This will either end up being awesome or horrifying. Guess we'll see.
D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:D:
HUHGHGHGHGHHH
Even betterer.
Also, if you ever find yourself saying that because you are in a relationship you or your partner are "allowed" or "not allowed" to do something, it is almost certainly because you are in a bad relationship.
Hot damn, my new favourite pickup line is forming in my brain as I type.
...Gabe and Tycho must have had a lot of choice for their respective spouses...
If you don't follow this up, we will hunt you down. This is the kind of thing every man needs to know about!
Never post again.
Seriously. I mean, not really, but
God
GOD
That is the most depressing thing I have ever read, ever.
Good show for acting normal around her and being a good friend to her, though. I'm sure that she appreciated that.
Pretty sure Richy lives in Canada. hmmmmmmm....?
but they're listening to every word I say
Are you Nicholas Sparks? Is this a draft for your next book, Mr. Sparks? My girlfriend would love to meet you.