I got a story about two friends of mine. A girl and a guy.
I've known the guy, through another friend, for over two years now. We pretty recently became real good friends. The girl I've only known for about half a year but we get along great. At any rate, these two are great people who I love hanging out with.
But dammit if they aren't the weirdest fucking "couple" I've ever seen.
The guy, whom we will call Steve, is a kind of overweight slob. Leaves beer cans sitting around his room, gets barred from other friends' homes because he never cleans up after himself. Yet, my other friends tell me he hopes to one day get a pretty young blonde girl way out of his league.
The girl, whom will be referred to as Elle, is also a bit on the large side. She likes Steve, but it's a relationship of unrequited love as Steve wants someone he'll never be able to get.
Despite this, I thought they were together for the longest time. Mostly because wherever they go, they sleep in the same bed with each other (no sex, just...sleep). On top of that, they flirt with each other and generally show all the tendencies that a real couple would display. I almost never see them apart unless one of them is a work. Even so, somewhere before the 4th of July this year, Steve flat out tells her, though maybe it wasn't as blunt as my friends portrayed it to be, that there is no way they will ever, EVER be together. Elle subsequently takes a pity cruise somewhere to get over this.
Of course my friends tell me this on the 4th. He later shows up that night after being called at 2:00 AM in his sleep attire (he had been working a late shift) to pick her drunk-ass up and take her (presumably) back to his place, where they (presumably again) slept in the same bed as per usual.
Again, they're good friends but I think they have some real issues going on.
Omeks on
Online Info (Click Spoiler for More): |Xbox Live Tag: Omeks |PSN Tag:Omeks_R7 |Rock Band:Profile|DLC Collection
I don't have any entertaining stories about crazy girlfriends, because I am a coward who tends to cut and run at the first sign of crazy.
Coward? No, sir. I'd call you smart.
I was kind of going for "tongue-in-cheek self-deprecation" because I do tend to be overly cautious. Doesn't translate so well on the internet. But yeah, this is an area where I'm pretty happy about being overly cautious, because so far I haven't been katana-sliced, or left in Michigan, or whatever.
Of course, now that I've said that, I'm just leaving myself open to being stabbed to death behind the Olive Garden on my next date because I didn't agree to instant cohabitation.
I don't have any entertaining stories about crazy girlfriends, because I am a coward who tends to cut and run at the first sign of crazy.
Coward? No, sir. I'd call you smart.
I was kind of going for "tongue-in-cheek self-deprecation" because I do tend to be overly cautious. Doesn't translate so well on the internet. But yeah, this is an area where I'm pretty happy about being overly cautious, because so far I haven't been katana-sliced, or left in Michigan, or whatever.
Of course, now that I've said that, I'm just leaving myself open to being stabbed to death behind the Olive Garden on my next date because I didn't agree to instant cohabitation.
See you guys do things like fall asleep or go behind buildings while with crazy girls. I mean it seems to me the best thing to do is be alert like a samurai. You just have to rough it out until you determine whether she's genuinely nuts or if she's just a bit attention starved.
King Riptor on
I have a podcast now. It's about video games and anime!Find it here.
Anyone ever had the girlfriend ring you right before she knows you're going out on a night out with friends, crying saying you should just get so drunk you puke, then swearing and hanging up. Then following this by ringing you back crying and apologising?
After this they then (exactly one week later) tell you they're going to ring you at 9PM before they go on their first night out in a new city with new friends (500miles away from you), instead hving their phone run out of battery and ring you at 4AM shitfaced drunk.
Googling someone's name is not stalkerish, not in the least. In this day and age, especially in the teen to twenties generation, your information is (often willingly) put out there for anyone to see in some form or another, and Google is about as broad a search as you can get.
I googled my wife's name back when we first started dating. Heck, my parents googled her name.
I don't see it as stalkerish at all. It's finding basic information about someone. In my parents case they wanted to see a picture of her.
Are we not allowed to know information if the person hasn't specifically told us yet?
Now, if you find internet forums and other sites the person hangs out at, and start hanging out there as well and start "following" them around on ther internet... that is more stalkerish.
I'm actually guilty of being the "crazy boyfriend" and basically stalking an ex-girlfriend online. But that was reading her LiveJournal, all her friend's LiveJournals and basically trying to figure out what she was doing on a daily basis based on posts and things like that. I also figured out her alternative screen names and followed those too.
Yes, I was looney for a while. But that relationship was dysfunctional to begin with.
I remember back when I could google myself, and it would return one solid page of hits, all directly related to me. How the times have changed.
Is it odd that I'm glad that when I google myself, nothing that comes up is actually about me, just people with similar names? Damnit, now I miss when the internet was still useful for searching with broad terms.
I used to be able to google my name and the first three or four pages were all actually about me.
Then I got married. And became rather upset because there is another lady living in the same city with my name and she has a blog. So she gets the first bunch of hits. :x
Kistra on
Animal Crossing: City Folk Lissa in Filmore 3179-9580-0076
Somewhat related. I got into a discussion with some friends. I believe it is universally bad when a woman says to a man "We need to talk." I don't care if this woman is your mom, sister, friend, fuck buddy, girlfriend, pen pal, spirit guide, anything. It's always bad. Always. Always.
Somewhat related. I got into a discussion with some friends. I believe it is universally bad when a woman says to a man "We need to talk." I don't care if this woman is your mom, sister, friend, fuck buddy, girlfriend, pen pal, spirit guide, anything. It's always bad. Always. Always.
Me and the friends seem split 50/50 on this.
What's sad? The women agree with me.
What I tend to do is say that and then surprise the hell out of my current GF with a home made dinner or jewelry or something equally romantic.
I'll admit it's a bit Pavlovian but I've yet to hear those words before a break up.
King Riptor on
I have a podcast now. It's about video games and anime!Find it here.
Somewhat related. I got into a discussion with some friends. I believe it is universally bad when a woman says to a man "We need to talk." I don't care if this woman is your mom, sister, friend, fuck buddy, girlfriend, pen pal, spirit guide, anything. It's always bad. Always. Always.
Me and the friends seem split 50/50 on this.
What's sad? The women agree with me.
I would agree. If there is something else that is bothering them that isn't relationship threatening then the topic is usually brought up with more tact.
CommunistCow on
No, I am not really communist. Yes, it is weird that I use this name.
Somewhat related. I got into a discussion with some friends. I believe it is universally bad when a woman says to a man "We need to talk." I don't care if this woman is your mom, sister, friend, fuck buddy, girlfriend, pen pal, spirit guide, anything. It's always bad. Always. Always.
Me and the friends seem split 50/50 on this.
What's sad? The women agree with me.
I would agree. If there is something else that is bothering them that isn't relationship threatening then the topic is usually brought up with more tact.
I've done it to a girl, and to an extent I specifically chose those words to let her know what was coming(all of 5 seconds later).
I got a story about two friends of mine. A girl and a guy.
I've known the guy, through another friend, for over two years now. We pretty recently became real good friends. The girl I've only known for about half a year but we get along great. At any rate, these two are great people who I love hanging out with.
But dammit if they aren't the weirdest fucking "couple" I've ever seen.
The guy, whom we will call Steve, is a kind of overweight slob. Leaves beer cans sitting around his room, gets barred from other friends' homes because he never cleans up after himself. Yet, my other friends tell me he hopes to one day get a pretty young blonde girl way out of his league.
The girl, whom will be referred to as Elle, is also a bit on the large side. She likes Steve, but it's a relationship of unrequited love as Steve wants someone he'll never be able to get.
Despite this, I thought they were together for the longest time. Mostly because wherever they go, they sleep in the same bed with each other (no sex, just...sleep). On top of that, they flirt with each other and generally show all the tendencies that a real couple would display. I almost never see them apart unless one of them is a work. Even so, somewhere before the 4th of July this year, Steve flat out tells her, though maybe it wasn't as blunt as my friends portrayed it to be, that there is no way they will ever, EVER be together. Elle subsequently takes a pity cruise somewhere to get over this.
Of course my friends tell me this on the 4th. He later shows up that night after being called at 2:00 AM in his sleep attire (he had been working a late shift) to pick her drunk-ass up and take her (presumably) back to his place, where they (presumably again) slept in the same bed as per usual.
Again, they're good friends but I think they have some real issues going on.
I have a friend who is 26.
And a virgin.
Has never had a girlfriend.
He's had plenty of women want to date him. But because they aren't supermodel hot, he puts them down.
He's ridiculously skinny, has a terrible attitude on life, a high school drop out, plagued with acne, and currently jobless and living with his parents. He's not a catch.
I love the guy. But you can't have those "qualities" going for you and then not date a girl because her teeth aren't perfect or because she's slept around a bit.
A little story about my psychotically insecure first wife: whom I shall refer to as the Ex.
It's long so I spoilered the whole story but cliff notes at the bottom:
Whilst serving my country early on in my career I was stationed at a base near Oxford, England.
Well, as it happened I got to know a couple of the young ladies whom were regulars at the parties we held in the dorms. One girl was the Ex and the other was Sarah…I think. Sarah, was not in my life for very long at all, and although I do her a disservice by not remembering her name, you will have to get used to that. My memory is definitely not my strong suit.
Anyway, it was established through various unrecalled means that these two girls both fancied me and quite unexpectedly came to me with an ultimatum: “we both like you. So you need to pick one of us.”
Wow!
So I weighed my options (for that night anyway) and chose the dark haired Sarah. She was fun and lively and gorgeous.
Being the coward I was and not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings I grabbed Sarah whilst the other girl was not around and we went back to my room to cement our like for each other.
Needless to say, the Ex came looking and found Sarah and I in THE compromising position. To make matters worse neither of us was very apologetic about the whole situation.
So much for not hurting anyone's feelings.
The weekend came and went and I was satisfied with my decision. Until I was told that Sarah lived over an hour and a half away from Oxford and that the Ex was only 20 minutes down the road. This made my long term decision much, much easier. I then attempted to repair the riff between the Ex and me by embarking upon a full assault to regain her affection.
After many, many attempts the Ex and I started to hang out on a regular basis, much to the chagrin of my womanizing brothers in arms.
A long story short, we end up getting married.
We lived with a british couple for a while and everything is going smoothly but after a while the Ex and I decide to get our own place. Once this happened however, things changed for the worse.
The Ex was never really secure in how she looked; she never wore dresses because she didn’t like the way her ankles looked. She never truly trusted me; most likely due to the night I chose Sarah over her…which was probably something anyone would find hard getting past.
Maybe it also had something to do with her finding a letter from a girl I used to date in high school. She was responding to a letter I had written to her. My letter to her was, to say the least, a highly embarrassing letter about how my sexual prowess was much better now than it was in HS and how I would love to come see her and prove it to her.
Ugh…yes, sooo pathetic.
Anyway, I don’t recall (thank God) exactly what her response was but she must have gone into great detail in replying to my letter because the Ex was horrified.
Now I had received this letter from Nikki early on in mine and the Ex's budding relationship and I had obviously written to her long before her and I were ever an item. The Ex of course didn’t believe me. I should have known right there and then that if she didn’t trust me now, she would never trust me later.
In addition, she probably never got over an answer I gave to a question she once asked me. I always thought honesty was the correct way to go when answering serious questions and I have learned many, many times since, that this belief is wholly incorrect.
What was the question, uh, in question? Nadine, smiling, asked me if I would ever consider sleeping with two girls at once.
Now let me set up the scenario before I get to my answer. She had come down with a friend of hers who I thought at one point wanted to get with me. Putting two and two together…I gave the answer I thought she was looking for. However, based on that very extremely slim notion, this was more wishful thinking than good math.
I responded as all men would and told her yes...obviously.
The Ex was, yet again, horrified and I never heard the end of that.
For these reasons my days at home, upon returning from work, were spent caressing her ego and reassuring her that I only had eyes for her. Pretty soon words weren’t enough and no matter what I said or did, I must have been cheating with every woman I came in contact with during the course of my duty day.
Every single day she would ask me "Have you been faithful to me?"...Every day.
At this point I had had enough and was tired of being accused of things I had neither done nor had any intention of doing. So I gave it my last best effort and tried to show her that I didn’t have eyes for anyone else but her. The attempt failed and I moved in with a friend on base.
A few months (and a case of crabs) later we ended up getting back together.
We got orders to Cambridge and I welcomed a change of scenery, and thought it might do her some good.
I was wrong, and not for the last time, I can assure you.
Upon arriving to Lakenheath and signing in with my squadron, I was then given a number of days off to find a place to live, the Ex and I having eschewed living on base at all costs.
We found a place off base to live and not soon after moving in the Ex comes to me and says
“Lets drive to your work and see how long it takes.”
Sounded like a great idea…then I could see how many times I could hit the snooze button in the morning before I was considered AWOL.
To my dismay, she brought a stopwatch and informed me that she intended to time how long it took so that when I left in the morning she could call me, after the allotted time, to make sure I had not made any stops along the way.
Stops for, you know, the tons of girls I had met during the one week we had been there. The one week where she was never away from my immediate left or right. Stops for the inordinate amount of whore houses that no doubt lined the streets from our house to the base…something I am absolutely sure she would be looking out for on our timed drive.
Right back to where it ended the first time. I should have let it stay that way.
We left that house about a year later (I am sure I still owe the landlord money) and moved closer to London.
The new place was a haven for parties. Right on!
The landlord and my neighbor had alot of children who came home quite often and they were all around my age.
So inevitably, me the American GI (somewhat of a novelty) and my wife were invited to all the get togethers held by the two families and it was soon the norm for us to spend the weekends at either the mansion or the other cottage joined to ours. On recollection however I am sure that I was invited early on not because I was such a good guy, but because I could purchase alcohol and cigarettes FAR cheaper than my British counterparts.
Now as you can probably imagine, hanging out with all these people our age, most of them women, most of them drunk or drinking, that the Ex's penchant for labeling me the greatest philanderer on life did not subside. On the contrary, her charges and accusations grew out of control and after 2 years and some counseling I had again had enough.
It was about this time that I came home from work and was greeted by the Ex at the door, with a rare, and uncomforting, smile.
As I got in the door, I was pulled into the living room where the Ex proceeded to get on her knees and to undress my bottom half. Now most men would take this as a great thing, but this was so out of character, I was immediately suspicious and started to think about Mr. Bobbit and if I was going to be looking for something very precious to me in the shrubbery outside the living room window.
I quickly checked for any sharp instruments nearby or on her person and was somewhat relieved that there was nothing that could be used to relieve me from my manhood…although, I am sure she did this to me many years earlier.
As she was freeing me from the restraints of my underwear I was struck with the thought of incisors and how closely the word resembles scissors. As I was about to push her violently away and run screaming from the house, I heard this;
“sniff…sniff”
I looked down at my wife, on her knees, and to my dismay, she looks up at me and says “I was just smelling to see if you were with anyone else before you came home.”
The camels back had been broken.
The Ex moves on, but not without taking my Platinum edition of Spiderman #1(only 10k were made), my Groo #1, the 1st app of the Punisher in the Amazing Spiderman and some other valuable comics in the bargain. Now thats some crazy bullshit all by itself!
After we split, she called my First Sergeant and told him I had responsibilities (two dogs) and that I needed to drive half way to London twice a month so that she could see them and he fucking agreed?!
So every other weekend I had to drive half way to London to drop off the two dogs to her and then pick them back up. Like I had custody and she had visitation rights.
tl:dr
-Crazy ex wife asks me every day if I am faithful to her
-times, with a fucking stopwatch, how long it takes me to get to work so she can call me to see if I am there
-sniffs my junk to make sure I haven't been with another woman
A little story about my psychotically insecure first wife: whom I shall refer to as the Ex.
It's long so I spoilered the whole story but cliff notes at the bottom:
Whilst serving my country early on in my career I was stationed at a base near Oxford, England.
Well, as it happened I got to know a couple of the young ladies whom were regulars at the parties we held in the dorms. One girl was the Ex and the other was Sarah…I think. Sarah, was not in my life for very long at all, and although I do her a disservice by not remembering her name, you will have to get used to that. My memory is definitely not my strong suit.
Anyway, it was established through various unrecalled means that these two girls both fancied me and quite unexpectedly came to me with an ultimatum: “we both like you. So you need to pick one of us.â€
Wow!
So I weighed my options (for that night anyway) and chose the dark haired Sarah. She was fun and lively and gorgeous.
Being the coward I was and not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings I grabbed Sarah whilst the other girl was not around and we went back to my room to cement our like for each other.
Needless to say, the Ex came looking and found Sarah and I in THE compromising position. To make matters worse neither of us was very apologetic about the whole situation.
So much for not hurting anyone's feelings.
The weekend came and went and I was satisfied with my decision. Until I was told that Sarah lived over an hour and a half away from Oxford and that the Ex was only 20 minutes down the road. This made my long term decision much, much easier. I then attempted to repair the riff between Nadine and me by embarking upon a full assault to regain her affection.
After many, many attempts the Ex and I started to hang out on a regular basis, much to the chagrin of my womanizing brothers in arms.
A long story short, we end up getting married.
We lived with a british couple for a while and everything is going smoothly but after a while the Ex and I decide to get our own place. Once this happened however, things changed for the worse.
The Ex was never really secure in how she looked; she never wore dresses because she didn’t like the way her ankles looked. She never truly trusted me; most likely due to the night I chose Sarah over her…which was probably something anyone would find hard getting past.
Maybe it also had something to do with her finding a letter from a girl I used to date in high school. She was responding to a letter I had written to her. My letter to her was, to say the least, a highly embarrassing letter about how my sexual prowess was much better now than it was in HS and how I would love to come see her and prove it to her.
Ugh…yes, sooo pathetic.
Anyway, I don’t recall (thank God) exactly what her response was but she must have gone into great detail in replying to my letter because the Ex was horrified.
Now I had received this letter from Nikki early on in mine and the Ex's budding relationship and I had obviously written to her long before her and I were ever an item. The Ex of course didn’t believe me. I should have known right there and then that if she didn’t trust me now, she would never trust me later.
In addition, she probably never got over an answer I gave to a question she once asked me. I always thought honesty was the correct way to go when answering serious questions and I have learned many, many times since, that this belief is wholly incorrect.
What was the question, uh, in question? Nadine, smiling, asked me if I would ever consider sleeping with two girls at once.
Now let me set up the scenario before I get to my answer. She had come down with a friend of hers who I thought at one point wanted to get with me. Putting two and two together…I gave the answer I thought she was looking for. However, based on that very extremely slim notion, this was more wishful thinking than good math.
I responded as all men would and told her yes...obviously.
The Ex was, yet again, horrified and I never heard the end of that.
For these reasons my days at home, upon returning from work, were spent caressing her ego and reassuring her that I only had eyes for her. Pretty soon words weren’t enough and no matter what I said or did, I must have been cheating with every woman I came in contact with during the course of my duty day.
Every single day she would ask me "Have you been faithful to me?"...Every day.
At this point I had had enough and was tired of being accused of things I had neither done nor had any intention of doing. So I gave it my last best effort and tried to show her that I didn’t have eyes for anyone else but her. The attempt failed and I moved in with a friend on base.
A few months (and a case of crabs) later we ended up getting back together.
We got orders to Cambridge and I welcomed a change of scenery, and thought it might do her some good.
I was wrong, and not for the last time, I can assure you.
Upon arriving to Lakenheath and signing in with my squadron, I was then given a number of days off to find a place to live, the Ex and I having eschewed living on base at all costs.
We found a place off base to live and not soon after moving in Nadine comes to me and says
“Lets drive to your work and see how long it takes.â€
Sounded like a great idea…then I could see how many times I could hit the snooze button in the morning before I was considered AWOL.
To my dismay, she brought a stopwatch and informed me that she intended to time how long it took so that when I left in the morning she could call me, after the allotted time, to make sure I had not made any stops along the way.
Stops for, you know, the tons of girls I had met during the one week we had been there. The one week where she was never away from my immediate left or right. Stops for the inordinate amount of whore houses that no doubt lined the streets from our house to the base…something I am absolutely sure she would be looking out for on our timed drive.
Right back to where it ended the first time. I should have let it stay that way.
We left that house about a year later (I am sure I still owe the landlord money) and moved closer to London.
The new place was a haven for parties. Right on!
The landlord and my neighbor had alot of children who came home quite often and they were all around my age.
So inevitably, me the American GI (somewhat of a novelty) and my wife were invited to all the get togethers held by the two families and it was soon the norm for us to spend the weekends at either the mansion or the other cottage joined to ours. On recollection however I am sure that I was invited early on not because I was such a good guy, but because I could purchase alcohol and cigarettes FAR cheaper than my British counterparts.
Now as you can probably imagine, hanging out with all these people our age, most of them women, most of them drunk or drinking, that the Ex's penchant for labeling me the greatest philanderer on life did not subside. On the contrary, her charges and accusations grew out of control and after 2 years and some counseling I had again had enough.
It was about this time that I came home from work and was greeted by the Ex at the door, with a rare, and uncomforting, smile.
As I got in the door, I was pulled into the living room where the Ex proceeded to get on her knees and to undress my bottom half. Now most men would take this as a great thing, but this was so out of character, I was immediately suspicious and started to think about Mr. Bobbit and if I was going to be looking for something very precious to me in the shrubbery outside the living room window.
I quickly checked for any sharp instruments nearby or on her person and was somewhat relieved that there was nothing that could be used to relieve me from my manhood…although, I am sure she did this to me many years earlier.
As she was freeing me from the restraints of my underwear I was struck with the thought of incisors and how closely the word resembles scissors. As I was about to push her violently away and run screaming from the house, I heard this;
“sniff…sniffâ€
I looked down at my wife, on her knees, and to my dismay, she looks up at me and says “I was just smelling to see if you were with anyone else before you came home.â€
The camels back had been broken.
Nadine moves on, but not without taking my Platinum edition of Spiderman #1(only 10k were made), my Groo #1, the 1st app of the Punisher in the Amazing Spiderman and some other valuable comics in the bargain. Now thats some crazy bullshit all by itself!
After we split, she called my First Sergeant and told him I had responsibilities (two dogs) and that I needed to drive half way to London twice a month so that she could see them and he fucking agreed?!
So every other weekend I had to drive half way to London to drop off the two dogs to her and then pick them back up. Like I had custody and she had visitation rights.
tl:dr
-Crazy ex wife asks me every day if I am faithful to her
-times, with a fucking stopwatch, how long it takes me to get to work so she can call me to see if I am there
-sniffs my junk to make sure I haven't been with another woman
And I thought my last girlfriend was jealous/insecure. Jesus.
A little story about my psychotically insecure first wife: whom I shall refer to as the Ex.
It's long so I spoilered the whole story but cliff notes at the bottom:
Whilst serving my country early on in my career I was stationed at a base near Oxford, England.
Well, as it happened I got to know a couple of the young ladies whom were regulars at the parties we held in the dorms. One girl was the Ex and the other was Sarah…I think. Sarah, was not in my life for very long at all, and although I do her a disservice by not remembering her name, you will have to get used to that. My memory is definitely not my strong suit.
Anyway, it was established through various unrecalled means that these two girls both fancied me and quite unexpectedly came to me with an ultimatum: “we both like you. So you need to pick one of us.”
Wow!
So I weighed my options (for that night anyway) and chose the dark haired Sarah. She was fun and lively and gorgeous.
Being the coward I was and not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings I grabbed Sarah whilst the other girl was not around and we went back to my room to cement our like for each other.
Needless to say, the Ex came looking and found Sarah and I in THE compromising position. To make matters worse neither of us was very apologetic about the whole situation.
So much for not hurting anyone's feelings.
The weekend came and went and I was satisfied with my decision. Until I was told that Sarah lived over an hour and a half away from Oxford and that the Ex was only 20 minutes down the road. This made my long term decision much, much easier. I then attempted to repair the riff between Nadine and me by embarking upon a full assault to regain her affection.
After many, many attempts the Ex and I started to hang out on a regular basis, much to the chagrin of my womanizing brothers in arms.
A long story short, we end up getting married.
We lived with a british couple for a while and everything is going smoothly but after a while the Ex and I decide to get our own place. Once this happened however, things changed for the worse.
The Ex was never really secure in how she looked; she never wore dresses because she didn’t like the way her ankles looked. She never truly trusted me; most likely due to the night I chose Sarah over her…which was probably something anyone would find hard getting past.
Maybe it also had something to do with her finding a letter from a girl I used to date in high school. She was responding to a letter I had written to her. My letter to her was, to say the least, a highly embarrassing letter about how my sexual prowess was much better now than it was in HS and how I would love to come see her and prove it to her.
Ugh…yes, sooo pathetic.
Anyway, I don’t recall (thank God) exactly what her response was but she must have gone into great detail in replying to my letter because the Ex was horrified.
Now I had received this letter from Nikki early on in mine and the Ex's budding relationship and I had obviously written to her long before her and I were ever an item. The Ex of course didn’t believe me. I should have known right there and then that if she didn’t trust me now, she would never trust me later.
In addition, she probably never got over an answer I gave to a question she once asked me. I always thought honesty was the correct way to go when answering serious questions and I have learned many, many times since, that this belief is wholly incorrect.
What was the question, uh, in question? Nadine, smiling, asked me if I would ever consider sleeping with two girls at once.
Now let me set up the scenario before I get to my answer. She had come down with a friend of hers who I thought at one point wanted to get with me. Putting two and two together…I gave the answer I thought she was looking for. However, based on that very extremely slim notion, this was more wishful thinking than good math.
I responded as all men would and told her yes...obviously.
The Ex was, yet again, horrified and I never heard the end of that.
For these reasons my days at home, upon returning from work, were spent caressing her ego and reassuring her that I only had eyes for her. Pretty soon words weren’t enough and no matter what I said or did, I must have been cheating with every woman I came in contact with during the course of my duty day.
Every single day she would ask me "Have you been faithful to me?"...Every day.
At this point I had had enough and was tired of being accused of things I had neither done nor had any intention of doing. So I gave it my last best effort and tried to show her that I didn’t have eyes for anyone else but her. The attempt failed and I moved in with a friend on base.
A few months (and a case of crabs) later we ended up getting back together.
We got orders to Cambridge and I welcomed a change of scenery, and thought it might do her some good.
I was wrong, and not for the last time, I can assure you.
Upon arriving to Lakenheath and signing in with my squadron, I was then given a number of days off to find a place to live, the Ex and I having eschewed living on base at all costs.
We found a place off base to live and not soon after moving in Nadine comes to me and says
“Lets drive to your work and see how long it takes.”
Sounded like a great idea…then I could see how many times I could hit the snooze button in the morning before I was considered AWOL.
To my dismay, she brought a stopwatch and informed me that she intended to time how long it took so that when I left in the morning she could call me, after the allotted time, to make sure I had not made any stops along the way.
Stops for, you know, the tons of girls I had met during the one week we had been there. The one week where she was never away from my immediate left or right. Stops for the inordinate amount of whore houses that no doubt lined the streets from our house to the base…something I am absolutely sure she would be looking out for on our timed drive.
Right back to where it ended the first time. I should have let it stay that way.
We left that house about a year later (I am sure I still owe the landlord money) and moved closer to London.
The new place was a haven for parties. Right on!
The landlord and my neighbor had alot of children who came home quite often and they were all around my age.
So inevitably, me the American GI (somewhat of a novelty) and my wife were invited to all the get togethers held by the two families and it was soon the norm for us to spend the weekends at either the mansion or the other cottage joined to ours. On recollection however I am sure that I was invited early on not because I was such a good guy, but because I could purchase alcohol and cigarettes FAR cheaper than my British counterparts.
Now as you can probably imagine, hanging out with all these people our age, most of them women, most of them drunk or drinking, that the Ex's penchant for labeling me the greatest philanderer on life did not subside. On the contrary, her charges and accusations grew out of control and after 2 years and some counseling I had again had enough.
It was about this time that I came home from work and was greeted by the Ex at the door, with a rare, and uncomforting, smile.
As I got in the door, I was pulled into the living room where the Ex proceeded to get on her knees and to undress my bottom half. Now most men would take this as a great thing, but this was so out of character, I was immediately suspicious and started to think about Mr. Bobbit and if I was going to be looking for something very precious to me in the shrubbery outside the living room window.
I quickly checked for any sharp instruments nearby or on her person and was somewhat relieved that there was nothing that could be used to relieve me from my manhood…although, I am sure she did this to me many years earlier.
As she was freeing me from the restraints of my underwear I was struck with the thought of incisors and how closely the word resembles scissors. As I was about to push her violently away and run screaming from the house, I heard this;
“sniff…sniff”
I looked down at my wife, on her knees, and to my dismay, she looks up at me and says “I was just smelling to see if you were with anyone else before you came home.”
The camels back had been broken.
Nadine moves on, but not without taking my Platinum edition of Spiderman #1(only 10k were made), my Groo #1, the 1st app of the Punisher in the Amazing Spiderman and some other valuable comics in the bargain. Now thats some crazy bullshit all by itself!
After we split, she called my First Sergeant and told him I had responsibilities (two dogs) and that I needed to drive half way to London twice a month so that she could see them and he fucking agreed?!
So every other weekend I had to drive half way to London to drop off the two dogs to her and then pick them back up. Like I had custody and she had visitation rights.
tl:dr
-Crazy ex wife asks me every day if I am faithful to her
-times, with a fucking stopwatch, how long it takes me to get to work so she can call me to see if I am there
-sniffs my junk to make sure I haven't been with another woman
A little story about my psychotically insecure first wife: whom I shall refer to as the Ex.
It's long so I spoilered the whole story but cliff notes at the bottom:
Whilst serving my country early on in my career I was stationed at a base near Oxford, England.
Well, as it happened I got to know a couple of the young ladies whom were regulars at the parties we held in the dorms. One girl was the Ex and the other was Sarah…I think. Sarah, was not in my life for very long at all, and although I do her a disservice by not remembering her name, you will have to get used to that. My memory is definitely not my strong suit.
Anyway, it was established through various unrecalled means that these two girls both fancied me and quite unexpectedly came to me with an ultimatum: “we both like you. So you need to pick one of us.â€
Wow!
So I weighed my options (for that night anyway) and chose the dark haired Sarah. She was fun and lively and gorgeous.
Being the coward I was and not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings I grabbed Sarah whilst the other girl was not around and we went back to my room to cement our like for each other.
Needless to say, the Ex came looking and found Sarah and I in THE compromising position. To make matters worse neither of us was very apologetic about the whole situation.
So much for not hurting anyone's feelings.
The weekend came and went and I was satisfied with my decision. Until I was told that Sarah lived over an hour and a half away from Oxford and that the Ex was only 20 minutes down the road. This made my long term decision much, much easier. I then attempted to repair the riff between Nadine and me by embarking upon a full assault to regain her affection.
After many, many attempts the Ex and I started to hang out on a regular basis, much to the chagrin of my womanizing brothers in arms.
A long story short, we end up getting married.
We lived with a british couple for a while and everything is going smoothly but after a while the Ex and I decide to get our own place. Once this happened however, things changed for the worse.
The Ex was never really secure in how she looked; she never wore dresses because she didn’t like the way her ankles looked. She never truly trusted me; most likely due to the night I chose Sarah over her…which was probably something anyone would find hard getting past.
Maybe it also had something to do with her finding a letter from a girl I used to date in high school. She was responding to a letter I had written to her. My letter to her was, to say the least, a highly embarrassing letter about how my sexual prowess was much better now than it was in HS and how I would love to come see her and prove it to her.
Ugh…yes, sooo pathetic.
Anyway, I don’t recall (thank God) exactly what her response was but she must have gone into great detail in replying to my letter because the Ex was horrified.
Now I had received this letter from Nikki early on in mine and the Ex's budding relationship and I had obviously written to her long before her and I were ever an item. The Ex of course didn’t believe me. I should have known right there and then that if she didn’t trust me now, she would never trust me later.
In addition, she probably never got over an answer I gave to a question she once asked me. I always thought honesty was the correct way to go when answering serious questions and I have learned many, many times since, that this belief is wholly incorrect.
What was the question, uh, in question? Nadine, smiling, asked me if I would ever consider sleeping with two girls at once.
Now let me set up the scenario before I get to my answer. She had come down with a friend of hers who I thought at one point wanted to get with me. Putting two and two together…I gave the answer I thought she was looking for. However, based on that very extremely slim notion, this was more wishful thinking than good math.
I responded as all men would and told her yes...obviously.
The Ex was, yet again, horrified and I never heard the end of that.
For these reasons my days at home, upon returning from work, were spent caressing her ego and reassuring her that I only had eyes for her. Pretty soon words weren’t enough and no matter what I said or did, I must have been cheating with every woman I came in contact with during the course of my duty day.
Every single day she would ask me "Have you been faithful to me?"...Every day.
At this point I had had enough and was tired of being accused of things I had neither done nor had any intention of doing. So I gave it my last best effort and tried to show her that I didn’t have eyes for anyone else but her. The attempt failed and I moved in with a friend on base.
A few months (and a case of crabs) later we ended up getting back together.
We got orders to Cambridge and I welcomed a change of scenery, and thought it might do her some good.
I was wrong, and not for the last time, I can assure you.
Upon arriving to Lakenheath and signing in with my squadron, I was then given a number of days off to find a place to live, the Ex and I having eschewed living on base at all costs.
We found a place off base to live and not soon after moving in the Ex comes to me and says
“Lets drive to your work and see how long it takes.â€
Sounded like a great idea…then I could see how many times I could hit the snooze button in the morning before I was considered AWOL.
To my dismay, she brought a stopwatch and informed me that she intended to time how long it took so that when I left in the morning she could call me, after the allotted time, to make sure I had not made any stops along the way.
Stops for, you know, the tons of girls I had met during the one week we had been there. The one week where she was never away from my immediate left or right. Stops for the inordinate amount of whore houses that no doubt lined the streets from our house to the base…something I am absolutely sure she would be looking out for on our timed drive.
Right back to where it ended the first time. I should have let it stay that way.
We left that house about a year later (I am sure I still owe the landlord money) and moved closer to London.
The new place was a haven for parties. Right on!
The landlord and my neighbor had alot of children who came home quite often and they were all around my age.
So inevitably, me the American GI (somewhat of a novelty) and my wife were invited to all the get togethers held by the two families and it was soon the norm for us to spend the weekends at either the mansion or the other cottage joined to ours. On recollection however I am sure that I was invited early on not because I was such a good guy, but because I could purchase alcohol and cigarettes FAR cheaper than my British counterparts.
Now as you can probably imagine, hanging out with all these people our age, most of them women, most of them drunk or drinking, that the Ex's penchant for labeling me the greatest philanderer on life did not subside. On the contrary, her charges and accusations grew out of control and after 2 years and some counseling I had again had enough.
It was about this time that I came home from work and was greeted by the Ex at the door, with a rare, and uncomforting, smile.
As I got in the door, I was pulled into the living room where the Ex proceeded to get on her knees and to undress my bottom half. Now most men would take this as a great thing, but this was so out of character, I was immediately suspicious and started to think about Mr. Bobbit and if I was going to be looking for something very precious to me in the shrubbery outside the living room window.
I quickly checked for any sharp instruments nearby or on her person and was somewhat relieved that there was nothing that could be used to relieve me from my manhood…although, I am sure she did this to me many years earlier.
As she was freeing me from the restraints of my underwear I was struck with the thought of incisors and how closely the word resembles scissors. As I was about to push her violently away and run screaming from the house, I heard this;
“sniff…sniffâ€
I looked down at my wife, on her knees, and to my dismay, she looks up at me and says “I was just smelling to see if you were with anyone else before you came home.â€
The camels back had been broken.
The Ex moves on, but not without taking my Platinum edition of Spiderman #1(only 10k were made), my Groo #1, the 1st app of the Punisher in the Amazing Spiderman and some other valuable comics in the bargain. Now thats some crazy bullshit all by itself!
After we split, she called my First Sergeant and told him I had responsibilities (two dogs) and that I needed to drive half way to London twice a month so that she could see them and he fucking agreed?!
So every other weekend I had to drive half way to London to drop off the two dogs to her and then pick them back up. Like I had custody and she had visitation rights.
tl:dr
-Crazy ex wife asks me every day if I am faithful to her
-times, with a fucking stopwatch, how long it takes me to get to work so she can call me to see if I am there
-sniffs my junk to make sure I haven't been with another woman
I'm somewhat less sympathetic because you apparently chose her based almost solely on driving distance. Still that's some Napolean hat level crazy right there.
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I've known the guy, through another friend, for over two years now. We pretty recently became real good friends. The girl I've only known for about half a year but we get along great. At any rate, these two are great people who I love hanging out with.
But dammit if they aren't the weirdest fucking "couple" I've ever seen.
The guy, whom we will call Steve, is a kind of overweight slob. Leaves beer cans sitting around his room, gets barred from other friends' homes because he never cleans up after himself. Yet, my other friends tell me he hopes to one day get a pretty young blonde girl way out of his league.
The girl, whom will be referred to as Elle, is also a bit on the large side. She likes Steve, but it's a relationship of unrequited love as Steve wants someone he'll never be able to get.
Despite this, I thought they were together for the longest time. Mostly because wherever they go, they sleep in the same bed with each other (no sex, just...sleep). On top of that, they flirt with each other and generally show all the tendencies that a real couple would display. I almost never see them apart unless one of them is a work. Even so, somewhere before the 4th of July this year, Steve flat out tells her, though maybe it wasn't as blunt as my friends portrayed it to be, that there is no way they will ever, EVER be together. Elle subsequently takes a pity cruise somewhere to get over this.
Of course my friends tell me this on the 4th. He later shows up that night after being called at 2:00 AM in his sleep attire (he had been working a late shift) to pick her drunk-ass up and take her (presumably) back to his place, where they (presumably again) slept in the same bed as per usual.
Again, they're good friends but I think they have some real issues going on.
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I was kind of going for "tongue-in-cheek self-deprecation" because I do tend to be overly cautious. Doesn't translate so well on the internet. But yeah, this is an area where I'm pretty happy about being overly cautious, because so far I haven't been katana-sliced, or left in Michigan, or whatever.
Of course, now that I've said that, I'm just leaving myself open to being stabbed to death behind the Olive Garden on my next date because I didn't agree to instant cohabitation.
See you guys do things like fall asleep or go behind buildings while with crazy girls. I mean it seems to me the best thing to do is be alert like a samurai. You just have to rough it out until you determine whether she's genuinely nuts or if she's just a bit attention starved.
After this they then (exactly one week later) tell you they're going to ring you at 9PM before they go on their first night out in a new city with new friends (500miles away from you), instead hving their phone run out of battery and ring you at 4AM shitfaced drunk.
I call it the "hypocrites revenge"
I googled my wife's name back when we first started dating. Heck, my parents googled her name.
I don't see it as stalkerish at all. It's finding basic information about someone. In my parents case they wanted to see a picture of her.
Are we not allowed to know information if the person hasn't specifically told us yet?
Now, if you find internet forums and other sites the person hangs out at, and start hanging out there as well and start "following" them around on ther internet... that is more stalkerish.
I'm actually guilty of being the "crazy boyfriend" and basically stalking an ex-girlfriend online. But that was reading her LiveJournal, all her friend's LiveJournals and basically trying to figure out what she was doing on a daily basis based on posts and things like that. I also figured out her alternative screen names and followed those too.
Yes, I was looney for a while. But that relationship was dysfunctional to begin with.
I guess I'm stalking myself.
The most popular links related to my name are either reviews of my uncle's books or a science page covering a strain of mutant yeast.
Googling my name gave me nothing related to me.
I'm a ghost, a Ghooooooooost!
(Unless you google my forum name, then it's pretty easy to figure stuff out)
Is it odd that I'm glad that when I google myself, nothing that comes up is actually about me, just people with similar names? Damnit, now I miss when the internet was still useful for searching with broad terms.
Then I got married. And became rather upset because there is another lady living in the same city with my name and she has a blog. So she gets the first bunch of hits. :x
Fortunately there's a picture of the guy and he looks nothing like me.
Me and the friends seem split 50/50 on this.
What's sad? The women agree with me.
What I tend to do is say that and then surprise the hell out of my current GF with a home made dinner or jewelry or something equally romantic.
I'll admit it's a bit Pavlovian but I've yet to hear those words before a break up.
I would agree. If there is something else that is bothering them that isn't relationship threatening then the topic is usually brought up with more tact.
I've done it to a girl, and to an extent I specifically chose those words to let her know what was coming(all of 5 seconds later).
But what came next was pretty freakin' good! Not at the time, but now it's awesome!
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story?
Highlights include being forced to lick her shoes and being held in a headlock for 20 minutes.
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I have a friend who is 26.
And a virgin.
Has never had a girlfriend.
He's had plenty of women want to date him. But because they aren't supermodel hot, he puts them down.
He's ridiculously skinny, has a terrible attitude on life, a high school drop out, plagued with acne, and currently jobless and living with his parents. He's not a catch.
I love the guy. But you can't have those "qualities" going for you and then not date a girl because her teeth aren't perfect or because she's slept around a bit.
Check the H&A forum. Or do a search for her posts in this thread.
Guy was a loser with mystical powers which entranced our poor Alyce into a dark confinement he would call a "relationship".
I have to say Alyce. This guy becomes less pitiable with every tidbit you add. I can't imagine talking to this dude and not wanting to punch him.
Justice hath been served. (or at least my idea of justice. Anyway, it's pretty funny)
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Well Karma is pretty slow to get started but once it does BAM! Dorito pillow.
It's long so I spoilered the whole story but cliff notes at the bottom:
Well, as it happened I got to know a couple of the young ladies whom were regulars at the parties we held in the dorms. One girl was the Ex and the other was Sarah…I think. Sarah, was not in my life for very long at all, and although I do her a disservice by not remembering her name, you will have to get used to that. My memory is definitely not my strong suit.
Anyway, it was established through various unrecalled means that these two girls both fancied me and quite unexpectedly came to me with an ultimatum: “we both like you. So you need to pick one of us.”
Wow!
So I weighed my options (for that night anyway) and chose the dark haired Sarah. She was fun and lively and gorgeous.
Being the coward I was and not wanting to hurt anyone’s feelings I grabbed Sarah whilst the other girl was not around and we went back to my room to cement our like for each other.
Needless to say, the Ex came looking and found Sarah and I in THE compromising position. To make matters worse neither of us was very apologetic about the whole situation.
So much for not hurting anyone's feelings.
The weekend came and went and I was satisfied with my decision. Until I was told that Sarah lived over an hour and a half away from Oxford and that the Ex was only 20 minutes down the road. This made my long term decision much, much easier. I then attempted to repair the riff between the Ex and me by embarking upon a full assault to regain her affection.
After many, many attempts the Ex and I started to hang out on a regular basis, much to the chagrin of my womanizing brothers in arms.
A long story short, we end up getting married.
We lived with a british couple for a while and everything is going smoothly but after a while the Ex and I decide to get our own place. Once this happened however, things changed for the worse.
The Ex was never really secure in how she looked; she never wore dresses because she didn’t like the way her ankles looked. She never truly trusted me; most likely due to the night I chose Sarah over her…which was probably something anyone would find hard getting past.
Maybe it also had something to do with her finding a letter from a girl I used to date in high school. She was responding to a letter I had written to her. My letter to her was, to say the least, a highly embarrassing letter about how my sexual prowess was much better now than it was in HS and how I would love to come see her and prove it to her.
Ugh…yes, sooo pathetic.
Anyway, I don’t recall (thank God) exactly what her response was but she must have gone into great detail in replying to my letter because the Ex was horrified.
Now I had received this letter from Nikki early on in mine and the Ex's budding relationship and I had obviously written to her long before her and I were ever an item. The Ex of course didn’t believe me. I should have known right there and then that if she didn’t trust me now, she would never trust me later.
In addition, she probably never got over an answer I gave to a question she once asked me. I always thought honesty was the correct way to go when answering serious questions and I have learned many, many times since, that this belief is wholly incorrect.
What was the question, uh, in question? Nadine, smiling, asked me if I would ever consider sleeping with two girls at once.
Now let me set up the scenario before I get to my answer. She had come down with a friend of hers who I thought at one point wanted to get with me. Putting two and two together…I gave the answer I thought she was looking for. However, based on that very extremely slim notion, this was more wishful thinking than good math.
I responded as all men would and told her yes...obviously.
The Ex was, yet again, horrified and I never heard the end of that.
For these reasons my days at home, upon returning from work, were spent caressing her ego and reassuring her that I only had eyes for her. Pretty soon words weren’t enough and no matter what I said or did, I must have been cheating with every woman I came in contact with during the course of my duty day.
Every single day she would ask me "Have you been faithful to me?"...Every day.
At this point I had had enough and was tired of being accused of things I had neither done nor had any intention of doing. So I gave it my last best effort and tried to show her that I didn’t have eyes for anyone else but her. The attempt failed and I moved in with a friend on base.
A few months (and a case of crabs) later we ended up getting back together.
We got orders to Cambridge and I welcomed a change of scenery, and thought it might do her some good.
I was wrong, and not for the last time, I can assure you.
Upon arriving to Lakenheath and signing in with my squadron, I was then given a number of days off to find a place to live, the Ex and I having eschewed living on base at all costs.
We found a place off base to live and not soon after moving in the Ex comes to me and says
“Lets drive to your work and see how long it takes.”
Sounded like a great idea…then I could see how many times I could hit the snooze button in the morning before I was considered AWOL.
To my dismay, she brought a stopwatch and informed me that she intended to time how long it took so that when I left in the morning she could call me, after the allotted time, to make sure I had not made any stops along the way.
Stops for, you know, the tons of girls I had met during the one week we had been there. The one week where she was never away from my immediate left or right. Stops for the inordinate amount of whore houses that no doubt lined the streets from our house to the base…something I am absolutely sure she would be looking out for on our timed drive.
Right back to where it ended the first time. I should have let it stay that way.
We left that house about a year later (I am sure I still owe the landlord money) and moved closer to London.
The new place was a haven for parties. Right on!
The landlord and my neighbor had alot of children who came home quite often and they were all around my age.
So inevitably, me the American GI (somewhat of a novelty) and my wife were invited to all the get togethers held by the two families and it was soon the norm for us to spend the weekends at either the mansion or the other cottage joined to ours. On recollection however I am sure that I was invited early on not because I was such a good guy, but because I could purchase alcohol and cigarettes FAR cheaper than my British counterparts.
Now as you can probably imagine, hanging out with all these people our age, most of them women, most of them drunk or drinking, that the Ex's penchant for labeling me the greatest philanderer on life did not subside. On the contrary, her charges and accusations grew out of control and after 2 years and some counseling I had again had enough.
It was about this time that I came home from work and was greeted by the Ex at the door, with a rare, and uncomforting, smile.
As I got in the door, I was pulled into the living room where the Ex proceeded to get on her knees and to undress my bottom half. Now most men would take this as a great thing, but this was so out of character, I was immediately suspicious and started to think about Mr. Bobbit and if I was going to be looking for something very precious to me in the shrubbery outside the living room window.
I quickly checked for any sharp instruments nearby or on her person and was somewhat relieved that there was nothing that could be used to relieve me from my manhood…although, I am sure she did this to me many years earlier.
As she was freeing me from the restraints of my underwear I was struck with the thought of incisors and how closely the word resembles scissors. As I was about to push her violently away and run screaming from the house, I heard this;
“sniff…sniff”
I looked down at my wife, on her knees, and to my dismay, she looks up at me and says “I was just smelling to see if you were with anyone else before you came home.”
The camels back had been broken.
The Ex moves on, but not without taking my Platinum edition of Spiderman #1(only 10k were made), my Groo #1, the 1st app of the Punisher in the Amazing Spiderman and some other valuable comics in the bargain. Now thats some crazy bullshit all by itself!
After we split, she called my First Sergeant and told him I had responsibilities (two dogs) and that I needed to drive half way to London twice a month so that she could see them and he fucking agreed?!
So every other weekend I had to drive half way to London to drop off the two dogs to her and then pick them back up. Like I had custody and she had visitation rights.
tl:dr
-Crazy ex wife asks me every day if I am faithful to her
-times, with a fucking stopwatch, how long it takes me to get to work so she can call me to see if I am there
-sniffs my junk to make sure I haven't been with another woman
So what happened with his 16 year old love?
Also, you used your ex's name a couple of times in there, which you might want to edit.
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And I thought my last girlfriend was jealous/insecure. Jesus.
Holy. Fuck.
I'm somewhat less sympathetic because you apparently chose her based almost solely on driving distance. Still that's some Napolean hat level crazy right there.
I think she sets a new bar for insecurities in a relationship.
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