quote:Originally posted by New Way Of Decay: Jaded in Westminster.
It's a pretty sorry fucking state of affairs if David Cocking Blunkett is getting more action than people like us.
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quote:Originally posted by London: Bollocks. It's a bit late now to say that everything from 'honestly Thorn' to 'gender reassignment theory' was a joke, and that I was deliberately misreading what you said over in the fashion thread in order to make my non-hilarious point about gender reassignment theory/ your masculinity - but it genuinely was. I stand by and will argue the rest of my comments; but the above was, I thought, a sort of Bamba / Louche-esque playfight. I'm clearly out of touch with the ways you guys communicate these days - sorry Thorn.
O. I thought that was the sort of reaction you wanted from me. I thought, 'she must want me to come flying back with this or she wouldn't have said those things'. I thought you wanted it.
posted
God I just read that back and it dosn't make any sense, lolloth, its because I was writing it in brain speak as I was trying to sum up all my thoughts in one post. I suppose I could summarise by saying 'yeah, people are nobbers innit, but you know, you can't make a relationship without breaking a few beds. Or just 'don't hate me 'cos I'm duderful'
eta; I meant my own 'blip-vert' post.
[ 01.12.2004, 11:41: Message edited by: New Way Of Decay ]
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posted
I think its nice how we're all talking openly about things and sharing stuff. I feel like we've made real progress today guys and it will help us to move forward!
(Just in case anyone was wondering and still feeling a little sore and defensive, the above post is a little play on a "couple's counselling session" but wasn't meant in a mean sarcastic way. I think this thread has turned out trumps! Well done forum!)
posted
I forgot to mention that the last time I spoke to a girl, Miffysocks stood behind me, pulling a Wallace and Gromit style grin, winking and using both thumbs 'up' in such a way as to make it look like she was suggesting I use my own in a sexual manner. Because it drew my attention mid-conversation, it also drew the girls attention and she turned to see a sight that looked like a mad drunk pervert in suspended animation. I think I tried to look cool about it but was thinking 'thank god I am not trying'
posted
Should that ever happen to you again let me offer you one of my Get Out of Jail Free Cards: Smile and wave at the offending friend, then turn back to the person you were engaging in conversation and say O, did I tell you I support adults with learning difficulties? You get bonus points if you work in a brief gentle tactile touch on their elbow or hand as you draw them back into conversation. Made for melting that one.
quote:Originally posted by Vogon Poetess: I'd just like some casual fun with someone who's good looking. IS THAT REALLY TOO MUCH TO ASK?
I have suggested this to you on several occasions. The least insulting response you gave was that it would be like having sex with one of your brothers mates.
So you, my dear, are a liar, and I call you out!
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quote:Originally posted by Uber Trick: FPP, don't cry - contribute! Come on single man, speak up. What is your opinion on this, tell us your story...
My only "long-term" relationship started in feb and ended in may of this year. call me bitter but i fucking hate the fact that i feel jelous of people who are in love and enjoying the company of one another. I am not a man who goes in for one night stands and have never actually had one, YES BELEIVE IT A MAN WHO HASNT EVER HAD A 1 NIGHTER, i wouldnt go so far as to say that i never would, but the idea is not one that appeals to me. Its bad enough waking up in the morning with only snippets of memory from the night before, let alone next to someone whos name you havent got the faintest idea about. I generally need time to get used to people, its strange i feel like i am having a wank with someone else in the room, not something i am entirely comfy with!
btw Sorry it took so long to reply and probably no-one will read this post... hopefully
posted
I'm sorry that you're feeling down and lonely and stuff FPP I know that sucks the root. However, it is better to be single than in a relationship that isn't working. I'm not going to say anything else.
*forum sighs in collective relief* *end of mass debate* *lol?*
posted
can me, ringo, and er, nwod play blind date with vp?
Three IRRESISTABLE MEN FOLK.
I wrote a story about internet dating, look, I'm so relevant! Well, it wasn't really about internet dating, but it involves it. I wont post it unless you ask! because last time I posted a story, it killed the thread.
posted
Post it. The thread's dead anyway. It's like the £64,000 question on Who Wanks to be a Millionaire - there's nothing to lose.
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posted
I dont like it and my mcandrew based gayer character is far superior. but still.
Windows of radiation
The windows of an internet dater only bring light of a blue hue. The windows are the inverse of a tanning booth, rendering the daters skin pasty, white and prone to sharp bursts of fire red blemishes that mark them. In sunlight the daters are exposed as being overweight, quite plain and almost entirely without hope. The blue light of monitor radiation encircles them, the shadows creasing out the horror of their bodies’ reality. And the windows open up into a world without that body. The windows open up into other windows, further and further until they quite literally forget where they are. There’s no sun to tell them it’s morning noon or night. They creep onwards, fuelled by caffeine trying to find the love that will bring them outside.
His name is “SavagePath.” It isn’t uncommon for people (particularly males) on the internet to add a certain aggressiveness to their names. It’s not really lying, it’s just a handle, it’s part of the fantasy. He’s twenty four and lives with his parents, he works as an IT technician in an office. Nobody likes him there, he is underpaid and overworked. He’s not the sort to go crazy, or mad, he just does it. He can spend a lot of his time on the net there too, watching the clock count down. It could be worse. It will be worse. Every night he comes on and logs on, at the cost of two points five pence a minute before 6 and one pence there after. He shares his time between posting on a wireplay.com, handbag.com and chatting in IRC and on ICQ. He is always “free to chat.” He doesn’t switch identities, he is always the affable bloke willing to help. And share his teenager poetry. The other guys (including the one who is trying to impersonate a girl – SavagePath believes her fully) bully him a lot, he takes it on the chin and pretends they love him really. He thought that his poetry was quite good. In reality it was worse than a fifteen year old girl who thinks she has Bi-Polar disorder but is in fact just hormonal. He is forever trying but never quite clicking with the people in IRC. Even when they play clan matches on Quake, he is the idiot:
<Mic>sav wtf r u doing we sed watch the bridge
<Savage> no one was coming that way
<Danger8> well they fuckin did dint they n now weve lost. well done m8”
The women he knows on handbag are far more sympathetic to him. Some of them would even count him as a friend. What you have to understand about Savage is that despite being grotesque, in body weight and visage, he doesn’t seem to realize it. He posts pictures of himself topless, with breasts any female freshman would kill for. One of the older more desperate women from Canada who isn’t herself the most gorgeous artifact on our earth, starts messaging him, after brief board flirtations. No one has shown him this much attention before, he can’t believe it. He thinks he is in love. He probably is.
<Danger8> m8 shes a fat ugly slag
The jibes don’t stop, but it doesn’t matter. They have seedy webcam sex and feel all the better for it. She might be ten years older than him but how they connect, the first thing he does when he logs on now is message her, he’s stopped visiting the other places so much, its just her and him. They sit as characters enclosed in a private wall no one can get into and that no one can get them out of, except themselves. And then they do, moving onto the phone. Savage runs up horrendous debts talking to her all night. He doesn’t look at his bank statements anymore. They don’t matter, what’s important right now is his love. On the phone they don’t actually talk, its just endless romantic drivel, plans for the future. He pens romantic songs on his Santana signature guitar and sends them to her, with fully MIDI backing – you can tell he means it by the expression on his face when he plays. The one friend he did have doesn’t seem him anymore. He sits cocooned, wrapped in a blanked of stale air and dirty take away boxes. He is getting fatter and fatter. The sweat lubricates his thighs and anus at night, sliding around on the faux leather chair, in bondage to the digital age that gave him love before for the physical so he could reveal it safely. When he goes to the toilet there’s a squeak as he leaves the chair, his parents turn in their bed, what is their son doing up so late? Why doesn’t he go out more? It’s been four days without a shower for Savage now, he stopped going into work, took sick leave. He needs to be online for every second that his beautiful is. The smell of his groin is too much for even Savage, “I should probably get a shower before I go to Canada.”
He brought his laptop with him, the modems cable trailing from his room. The electronic pulses keeping him connected. Standing under the shower he can hear people messaging him, the faint pings. There’s people out there and they want to talk to him, every ping makes him feel that little bit more wanted. The shower mattes his long ginger hair and it sticks to his back, he can’t see his penis for his belly. The drops trickle down and under, out of his sight and into the void. He sees a God in the mirror opposite.
*****
In Canada, in winter, in small airports, it can get very cold. Savage was finding this out. Where was she? She was supposed to be here two hours ago. He wants to know why she isn’t answering her phone. He doesn’t slip and slide on the airports plastic chairs. He’s sitting as small as he can make himself, shivering and putting his hands between the roaring fire of flesh that are his thighs, trying to find some warmth. She appears, her excuse is traffic. She doesn’t go into further details and although Savage is cold, wet and feeling incredibly lonely he lets..but fifth it slide. He loved her so much, forgive and forget. Why should he question her? They embrace, hug and kiss and suddenly everything is right with the world. For savage, seeing her for the flesh in the first time was incredible. He got the biggest rush he could ever remember having, it was better than all the nights drunkenly messaging each other, better than all the “deep” conversations put together, it was his everything. He couldn’t stop holding her, touching her. In the car he kept one hand on her thigh and another continuously flicking through her hair. It was his first time in such close proximity to a woman but he’d seen approximately 5 gigabytes of pornography and so was reasonably adept at his work. It wasn’t just mimicry, it was a real joy and wanting to touch this person who had given him so much over the last six months, she knew everything about him. Later she taught him how to love, sans irony. He rolls around like a child in the double bed, eventually the post coital euphoria starts to wear off and he goes to check his emails at her computer. Scrolling up, he skims past “recent documents” just in time to see “dave.jpg” appear. Dave is not his name. He clicks it open, there in front of him are 307200 pixels of naked man. That again isn’t himself. Presumably this is Dave. So a quick search of .jpg finds a further four or five men, all naked, all grossly fat, Savage despises them. What is he going to say when she comes out of the shower? With every new image he finds of these men, the beautiful scene of their future fragments further and further. The shower turns off, the last drops of water dripping from the shower head, the first few streaming from Savage’s eyes.
*****
A dragon’s tear drops and drowns my soul The dark beast’s fire engulfing my bones
She is hate
In an explosion of self disgust The time rewinds to a happier point and we…
Wait.
Forever with bandages around our neck Hanging from the rafters we cry.
Forever.
<Danger8> sav you fucking loser, that is the worst shit I have EVER seen
He sits and laughs, these guys don’t understand emotion, and the girls on teenhelp.net said it was really moving.
posted
lololol - good stuff. At first I thought it was a bit undisciplined but the style ended up serving the story. I guess the fact this yarn has made my afternoon makes me a pretty bad person.
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posted
I do sometimes consider myself sad as 1:- it is not uncommon for me to associate with chavs 2:- it is not uncommon for me to spend hours playing computer games 3:- I religiously play football every sunday in ravenscourt park 4:- it is not uncommon for me to spend too much money on weed 5:- I think the most recently produced album i own is possibly rage against the machine, battle of LA 6:- I sell shit tiscali broadband to people in a depressing telesales office 7:- I asked my mum to pay this months rent for me for my birthday! 8:- I am 25 and cant even pay my own rent consistently 9:- it scares me to tell girls/women/ladies (or whatever is considered most un-offencive) that I find them attractive, or I am interested 10:- that I use the tmo boards like a shrink
BTW whats the general concensus on the associating with chavs? Does that make me, by default, a chav as well, and can a chav own any rage against the machine and still be labeled a chav?
And before any folk (who shall remain namless) bring up the fact that i once chatted up a german girl on the tube, and got her number! [true] she only picked up the phone twice when i called, before getting someone else to do it and tell me she didnt live there any more.
The only other time i chatted up a random was in natwest in hammersmith. The first impression was, What fucking horrible shoes you are wearing, but they did look expensive.(shout at me and call me a gold digger if you will) She had come to collect a replacement card (same as me) they had mine and not hers, she wasnt happy and started going off on one, so i thought, apart from your nasty footwear, you are quite a nice looking girl and from your accent public school educated. I told her to chill out and asked if she would like to join me for a coffee? "coffee" says she "why dont we go to the pub and get a tequila?" (bear in mind its 11am on a saturday morning, I am feeling like shit and have taken the day off work) so sensibly i reply "of course" so we are getting smashed up in the pub and i am dissapearing every 10 mins to hurl my last intake of alcohol down the prime-evil swamp that passes for a toilet in the hammersmith hop poles. After one such escapade she asks if i am going to ask for her number, "why not" says me (play it cool, dont go being [god forbid] too positive) so I take out my fluffy purple diary (please note i am still cool) where she then starts a new page to give me her address in earls court, her dads address in bayswater and her mums adress in GREECE, not to mention her mobile number, house number, work number, hotmail and work e-mail addresses. So i am not incapable of inspiring positive responses to my altogether too clumsy and inarticulate advances! "hoooraaay", or so I thought, with an underlying "Um, thats a whole page of fluffy purple book just for, oh my god Lady Louise McMeekin." Anyway we hook up and go out for a drink a few days later (tattersalls in knightsbridge), she meets some of the people i used to work with in harrods, I meet some of her freinds in some pub in chelsea where she promptly dissapears downstairs with one of her freinds who works behind the bar for about 1/2 an hour. we (her and me) go back to her place afterward where she tells me she was downstairs going down on her freind from behind the bar [important notice](she was female)[/important notice] i am thinking i havent even snogged you yet, this shit is too quick for my precious frigidity, though i dont say anything as its not an idea i am adverse to, but not quite yet. We have a laugh she shows me pics of her school days and some of the people i met that night, wake up in the morning to a blow job (my first, cool) and go out to work, friday night comes and she decides to have a few people over to hers and dutifully i go along, we get smashed and i go to bed as i am working in the morning. Today I wake up alone in an empty room, surprising as it is a fucking tiny flat, have a shower and put the telly on (world cup first round Cameroon vs someone i think) i get up to go downstairs and make a coffee when things get strange, the kitchen door is locked, I knock and there is no answer, I knock again and i hear some hushed laughter. "I only want a coffee i plead" more laughter but this time not so hushed, fuck this thinks me i'll get one on my way to work, so get dressed and ready myself to leave. Suddenly I hear a ruckus from downstairs by the kitchen, and go to investigate, there are 2 guys (fully clothed) carrying a naked girl i recognise as Louise up the stairs. "Erm, what the fuck is going on?" "Oh, hi Tom these are my 2 boyfreinds have you met?" "Erm, no, and i am not planniong on doing so, I'll see you" Tom runs away to never see her fucked up arse again. now i dont even know... yes i do i just checked. one of the biggest tangents ever, and i cant remember my point and i have spent an hour and 25 mins writing this its now half 2 an i am working tomorrow. sorry but I quit for the evening.
posted
that was it, never done any type of speed dating or lonly hearts (sorry for the generalisation on the lonly hearts no offence meant to people who put their names on sites but abhore being refered to as a lonly heart) posting before, i think to a certain extent i would be far to shy. This is something people always tell me i talk shit about being shy, I am not a shy person but the situation of telling someone or expressing an interest EG. being at a speed dating evening. would force me into a self concious spiral of dispair. when i would happily come to meet you lot even if some of you would prefer that i didnt, maybe because some of you would prefer that i didnt, I have a bit of a rebellious streak though it isnt vindictive. But if, for example, someone from the boards was to be attractive to me, i would probably spend the evening sitting in the farthest possible corner from that person while the heat from my blushed cheeks slowly evaporated my drink.
quote:Originally posted by Raz: Tom. Do you still have Lady Louise McMeekin's phone number.
not sure man i may still have the page in the fluffy purple book. But be warned she is not a cool chick, and after unleashing her 34 DD's they dopped almost to her waist, a worrying feature of a then 22 year old. She was also an alcoholic this was certified, by her, one evening. I also would not feel right posting someones personal details on the net, even if she is a crazy slapper!
quote:Originally posted by funkypurplepants: after unleashing her 34 DD's they dopped almost to her waist, a worrying feature of a then 22 year old. She was also an alcoholic this was certified, by her, one evening.
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Enjoyed the story dude, not sure if there was a target intended if so ![[Mad]](mad.gif)
if not, an am being para ![[Embarrassed]](redface.gif)
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