The Psycho Ex-Girlfriend Chronicles

2009-03-26T18:25:00.000-07:00

These are my tales. This was my life.

...because rape was better than leaving.

The 'Throw'.

She cost me my job.

I lost more friends this way.

She beats herself so I don't have to.

Mission 'aborted'.

Fun and games at the hotel.

I'm living with Connie Corleone.

Who fights over a shower?

I was dumped. Me.

Her car 'disappears'.

I'm psycho too, or so it seems.

Well, I still had to get my stuff.

Epilogue

Unsettling Update 1/16/08

Ex-Girlfriend Voicemails 2/14/09

A Man (not me) Gave His Life For His 'Troubled' Girlfriend

Reader Submissions Welcome

Reader Submission Nov 27th, 2011

The Perfect Girl? Jan 14th, 2012

The Things We Do For Our Girlfriends

2009-03-24T02:27:00.000-07:00

I thought this was Psycho worthy...

A devoted boyfriend was killed when he caught his suicidal lover after she threw herself from the seventh floor of the couple's apartment building.
Amazingly, the woman survived the fall - although she suffered a number of broken bones.

The couple had been heard arguing in their flat in the southern Chinese city of Quanzhou before the tragedy.

Witnesses said they heard the woman threatening to kill herself.
Her boyfriend, named only as Mr Wang, was later seen on the street outside the building, pleading with the girlfriend not to jump.
She was said to be incoherent when questioned by police, the Straits Capital News reported, sometimes giving her age as 18, and other times as 30.
She also appeared to be unclear about how she fell from the balcony, medical staff said.

Source

Ex-Girlfriend Voicemails

2009-02-13T14:42:00.000-08:00

I've been getting some attention this Valentine's Day (as I usually do every year for obvious reasons) so I decided to work on a new post. It really has nothing to do with me personally, but has everything to do with crazy women and the guys who are dumb enough to put up with them. Back in 2001, a man made the legendary website psychoexgirlfriend.com and posted 53 voicemails from a supposed jilted ex-lover (some rumors around the interwebz say these were fake, but I beg to differ). That site has since made its demise, but has been brought back by Google cache and now by Youtube. Even though there videos are two years old (07), they are still hilariously scary. I made them into a playlist after someone went through the trouble to record and transcript them for everyone's enjoyment.

All 52 voicemails

Unsettling update

2008-01-16T16:13:00.000-08:00

So my mother was surfing the interwebz yesterday when she was bored at work. A co-worker recommended she look up people she knows in the local county's court registry for shits and giggles. So she did.

When a mother goes to one of these sites, the first people the search is their children, so she searched me and printed the results. I came over to visit her coincedentally and she handed me the printout while saying, "I don't even want to know."

There was a traffic ticket I was punished with last year and this other infraction from seven years ago. I looked at the older infraction a little closer to discover it was a petition for 'Civil Domestic Violence' which translates to me as a restraining order. Seeing as I was never served with an order I had no idea that a) I had one on record and b) people could see that I had one on record. Now I get to spend the next few weeks or so getting this wiped clean. Awesome.

Bitch.

....because rape was better than leaving.

2007-01-15T17:53:00.000-08:00

I know I can be an asshole at times, but putting these stories out may be a bit far, even for me. I've tried to extend the olive branch to this girl a couple times in the past, but to no avail. She is actually the first person to label me an asshole, so you can blame the last few years of my life on her. I’m not bitter or anything. I really don’t know if this is me bad-mouthing some troubled chick, or me exposing how completely stupid and blind I used to be. Oh well.

It all started when I was seventeen. It was a warmer than usual summer if I remember correctly. The trees were green, the birds were singing, and the sun was shining six days a week. Love was in the air, and I was choking on it.

I had already graduated from high school, but I had no car and I still had to live with my mother. The girl I was seeing had a car, but also still lived with her folks. Whenever we were broke and wanted to be together, we had to decide to either be at her parent's place or mine. It tended to be a 50-50 split on those decisions. For whatever reason, the drama always happened at my place.

No matter where we decided to hang out, we pretty much did the same thing every night. Our routine consisted of a little TV/movie watching until everyone went to bed, then we'd disappear into my or her bedroom and fuck like we just made the shit up. We had to do it on my bedroom floor when we were at my place, because my waterbed made too much noise. The squeaky floor defeated the purpose.

One particular night we went through the normal routine and, at midnight or so, I decided to call it a night. She wasn’t too happy about that. God forbid I be a little tired after being up since 5am and having to do it all again the next day. She refused to sympathize. I had to actually talk her into leaving and going home. While keeping my composure, I ushered her out the door. Silly me, I thought my night was over. I really should have known better.

This girl was more predictable than a nun's menstrual cycle. After staring at my cell phone (and a big one it was) for ten minutes, it rang. It was the girlfriend. She called not to tell me she made it home, but to say she’s still in the damn parking lot. Our conversation went something similar to this…

Me- Go hooooome
Her- Why did you kick me out?
Me- I’m really tired. Please go home.
Her- You always do this. Why do you always do this? You don’t love me. If you did, you would never kick me out. You just wanna fuck me.
Me- (sigh) Can we talk about this tomorrow? I know its cold out there. Go home and good night. (I hang up)

Why did I think that would be the end of it?
*ring ring*

Me- What?
Her- Come outside.
Me- No, it's cold. Go home.
Her- Come. Outside.
Me- Just talk to me on the phone until you get home.
Her- I'm taking off my clothes. If you don’t come out here right now, I’m gonna lay naked on the top of my car. I bet someone will come out here for me if you don’t. I bet you won’t even fucking care.
Me- You can’t be serious. You have an actual problem. You should really leave.
Her- Whatever. We’ll see what happens. (she hangs up)

I look out of my window and, sure enough, she was topless and proceeding to follow through on her promise. From where she was in the parking lot, she could have easily been seen by 72 different apartments. All of which consisting of either children (including my little brothers), or married couples, or random perverts, or anyone that just wanted some fresh air, or a combination of. All they had to do is glance outside to see an eighteen year old girl/woman, damn-near naked, laying on top of an old hatchback.

Fuck. Me.

I run out there and make every fake apology I can think of. I tell her that I’m a bad boyfriend. I tell her that I love her. I tell her blah blah blah, blah blah, blah blah. I tell her to 'PUT YOUR FUCKING CLOTHES ON!!!!' After freezing outside for 45 minutes (freezing may be an exaggeration, but it was cold), she finally leaves. I wouldn't be surprised if she was giggling uncontrollably while she was driving off.

Fucking Psycho.

This wasn't the first incident. There were some small ones prior to this, but nothing quite like this.

”I’m just calling to let you know I made it home ok. I love you and I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night, baby. I love you.”

The 'throw'.

2007-01-14T17:53:00.000-08:00

My apartment complex's parking lot was the scene to a lot of our bouts. Before you jump to any conclusions, I never hit her. However, there were 8-10 times I probably should have. This is one of them.

It was the day before my mom’s birthday and I usually make her a pie as a cheap present. I was 17 at the time and I made decent money at my full-time job, but she still wanted my world famous cheesecake (yes, world famous). After spending the day with my girlfriend, I told her I needed to make a stop at the local supermarket to pick up my baking supplies. This was sometime in the middle of the day. I know because I remember the sun was still shining and I was still smiling.

If she had a problem with me ending our day short, common sense would have told her to bring up the issue before driving me back to my place. This girl obviously lacked common sense. I learned this on many occasions, but it smacked me in the face this particular day.

She drove me home just as I had asked and we parked unusually far from my actual apartment. I started to see where this was going. We had the usual argument of how I don’t love her enough and I never want to spend time with her and what have you. Real edge-of-your-seat-type stuff. The adventure always starts when I turn to leave. Apparently it was always better to stay in yell rather than just walk away. Who knew?

"Don’t you dare get out of my car!!!" (Yes, three exclamation points)

I've been kicked out of a car before, but I've never been commanded to stay in one. I dwarfed her by over a foot and out weighed her by at least sixty pounds, so I just laughed at her and opened the door. She started pulling at me and grabbing me and yelling at me like she ain't had no sense. The only things we were missing were a home on wheels, a trucker hat, and a kiddie pool to have an all out trailer brawl. I brushed her off and proceeded to head towards my apartment a little bewildered. I made it as far as halfway before her size 5 feet ran up behind me and jumped on my back. I would not make a good quarterback.

"You can't walk away from me! You can't walk away from MEEEEEE!!!"

In my right hand I had a bag full of groceries. In my left hand I had my key. On my back I had a five-foot troll (a hot troll mind you) to whom I was giving an unwelcome piggy back ride. My knee jerk reaction was to elbow her in her pretty little face and be on my way, but since she was not a man, I flung her off my back with my off-hand. I may be exaggerating, but she flew, like, ten feet away into my apartment mini-lawn. It was some Matrix-type shit.

She laid there fairly still for a minute or so before I told her to stop playing dead and get up. I was a little pissed. She moved a little after that, trying to over-dramaticize the whole event. I really would have loved to leave her there to teach her a lesson, but the genius in me realized the consequences of abandoning her (one of which was a break up that I, for whatever reason, didn’t want) such as some fake assault charges or a lawsuit or something. I ended up carrying her inside to treat her just in case she had a concussion and prevent her from doing something stupid like stripping naked again.

I fetched her something to drink and a few aspirin and so on to get her well enough to go home, constantly yelling at her not to go to sleep and drink her water. I guess you can say I was pissed, but I still cared. It's one of my few flaws.

My mom gave me some help. I think the girlfriend was a little embarassed by that; seeing as my mom would be the first person (but not the last) that has seen us fight. My mother was amazed at the level of drama my relationship had and she never looked at her the same after that. Neither did I really. We dated another year and a half or so. Yeah, I wasn't smart.

"My friend from work has spent everyday with her boyfriend since they've been together, and they're doing great. I don't see why we can't do that."

She cost me my job.

2007-01-13T17:53:00.000-08:00

Out of eight or nine jobs, I’ve only been fired from one job in my lifetime, and even then I wasn’t really fired. They ‘ended my seasonal employment’ instead. Considering about a week before they had officially hired me on full-time to work year-round. Yeah, I guess I was fired.

I had a job at a department store doing overnight work during the holiday season when I was 17. Working 10pm to 6am had its perks, namely being able to take a break from the significant other. She was good about it though. She always drove me to work every night and ,like clockwork, picked me up before she went to work herself in the morning. She had her times of being a really great girlfriend. One night of her taking me to work almost negated all of that.

She went to drop me off one night when she wanted to have one of those ‘state of the relationship’ talks. I really needed to be on time at work because after a ten-minute grace period, they locked the doors for the night, so I told her it’d have to wait.

Her- Fine. I guess your job is more important than me.
Me- Is that a trick question? My job is not more important than you.

(eye contact to sell it)

Thank you for the ride, I love you, and we’ll talk later.

She opted not to kiss me (as if I cared) and I went to work. This was at 10:05pm.

At 11pm or so, my phone rings. Stupid me had it in my pocket while I worked. I answered it to find out my girlfriend was still in the parking lot. She had been there for an hour apparently, maybe to cool down from insane to just plain crazy. She did that a lot actually. Yet somehow I was surprised each time she did it.

She’s crying and screaming and doing whatever girls do when they’re mad and it became really annoying. If it was anyone else, I would have been concerned. This girl did this quite often, so it's never anything special and my patience often wore thin. I attempted to talk her down and get her to go home. I was really never successful at that, but I felt good about it this time. She sounded like she had calmed down and we hung up. I thought to myself, "I handled that really well. Maybe this is a turning point in our relationship."

About ten minutes later I am pulling a pallet down one of the aisles by the front of the store when my phone rings again. I wondered why I hadn't learned to throw it in my locker just before I answered it. It was the girlfriend, of course, but this time she was standing at the front door threatening to bang on the windows and repeatedly ring the doorbell (yes, stores have/had doorbells). This was not what I needed at all. I liked my job and I wasn't in the mood to lose it. To prevent such a scene, I left my shit and I snuck outside to deal with the problem.

I don’t really remember what the argument was about. All I remember is it was big and it was nasty and in a dark parking lot. That’s how unimportant our issues actually were. I’m sure it was something to the nature of me putting my job before our ‘love' or something. All I know is I got called to the executive office the following week to be ‘let go’. I was told this had nothing to do with what had happened the week prior, but I knew she was full of shit. She went on to tell me how ‘poor’ my performance was and so on. Whatever. Fuck her. I went to see my girlfriend afterwards and hate-fucked her in retaliation. She was into shit like that.

Fucking Psycho.

”It's not as if you liked that job anyway. I'm glad you got fired. Now we can spend more time together and I can help you find a better place to work with better hours so I can see you more.”

I lost more friends this way.

2007-01-12T17:54:00.000-08:00

My ex had this nasty anger/jealous streak that could not be matched. She would turn it on for a few minutes and then turn it off like nothing happened. It was scary. Here’s an example:

We stopped by Safeway to pick up a few things before heading to her place. It was an average shopping day for us. We usually had a little fun doing whatever we did and that day was no different.

As I began to unload our stuff on the conveyor belt at the cashier, I felt a little tickle at my hips. I chuckled (because men don't giggle) and turned around to see a girl I knew from high school the year before. I shared a class with her at one time (she did a few of my assignments) and I was friends with her older sister (who also did a few of my assignments). We exchanged smiles and hellos and she went to bag our groceries. This did not make my girlfriend happy. The opposite in fact.

I went to take out my wallet when I notice out of the corner of my eye my girlfriend going to talk to our friendly bagger. I didn’t think much of it until she grabbed her arm and dragged (well, more pulled than dragged) her away from our bags to a spot closer to the door. I saw her quietly and somewhat calmly talk to this poor girl (who was a whole 5 to 7 inches taller and 25 to 30 pounds heavier than her, by the way) for a few minutes and then rejoined me as I grabbed the bags. I went to say bye to my friend only to get a meek ‘bye’ in return as she held her head down, staring at her shoes, refusing to make any eye contact with me whatsoever.

Me- Soooo, what exactly did you say to her?
Her- (smiling)I pretty much told her to not ever touch my boyfriend like that. Ever. Again.
Me- Why would you do something like that? What is wrong with you?
Her- (still smiling)She should know better. I will hurt her. I bet she never does it again.
Me- That was rude. Now I have to apologize to her.
Her- (perma-smile) Umm, she won’t be talking to you anymore.

I never saw her again. I wouldn’t be surprised if my ex buried her somewhere close to Jimmy Hoffa and Amelia Earhart.

On another note, I ran across this site the other day. He knows what I'm talking about.

She beats herself so I don't have to.

2007-01-11T17:54:00.000-08:00

Probably one of the most insane stories I have about this girl is the one I am about to tell.

The majority of our fights came when she was leaving my place to go home. She lacked the little clock in her head that tells her when its time to leave someone’s home, so I always had to make that executive decision for her. She looked at it as me getting rid of her; I viewed it as me getting some fucking sleep.

On this occasion, she really didn’t want to go. When I told her that we should call it a night, she gave me the usual ‘fine, if I have to’ look and proceeded to leave. I walked her out to her car and sent her on her way. I didn’t realize that her car never moved (this is why I now always make sure the car is in motion before I go inside). Fifteen minutes later my phone rang. I was already in bed, under the covers, and in my sweet spot when I reached to answer it. In my head I was thinking about why I even try to sleep after she leaves. It never happens the way I want it to. Needless to say, it was her.

She goes on with the same rant about how I don’t care about her and how I make no sacrifices for her and how I always kick her out after we have sex (which is purely a matter of bad timing). Whatever.

Me- Please go home.
Her- I’m coming up.
Me- Don’t come up.
Her- Why? Is your other girlfriend coming or something?
Me- You can’t be serious. Please go home.
Her- I’m at your door and I will ring the doorbell if you don’t come open the door (it was midnight).
Me- Don’t fucking ring the bell. Give me a minute.

I opened the door to see the devil, herself, looking directly into my soul. She was hungry, and my soul smelled like fresh brownies. I knew she was plenty pissed because whenever she got super angry, she'd insert ‘the fuck’ in every sentence. Example:

I’m pissed the fuck off!
What the fuck were you thinking?
Get the fuck off of me!
Where the fuck have you been?
Why the fuck do you care?
How the fuck am I supposed to bend that way?

When I told her she couldn’t come in, she let ‘the fucks’ loose. How my neighbors didn't hear, I'll never know. Maybe they did but they were too frightened to come out and help me.

Then she did what could possibly be the most appalling thing I’d seen her (or anyone else for that matter) ever do. She looked directly into my eyes with the fury of a dozen Pro-Life protesters and started beating herself in the head with her keys. Not by holding the key chain, no, but by swinging the keys like a lasso using the lariat she used to hang them around her neck. And keys there were a plenty. There had to be about ten or fifteen of'em. She swung them around fast enough to make a faint whistling noise as they cut through the air, while also making what sounded like an evil version of Jingle Bells as they bounced off her fucking skull. Her face was expressionless and her eyes did not blink. She felt no pain. All of this coming from a four foot, eleven inches, ninety-seven pound girl. I couldn’t do anything but stare in shock and in horror.

When I finally took hold of the moment, I lounged at her to make her stop and ushered her inside. Somehow I calmed her down. It would have been a lot easier if we had a 'safe' word to use. Of course my first reaction was to sympathize, so I got her some aspirin and a wet towel for her bleeding fucking head. She left about an hour and a half later.

Wow.
Fucking Psycho.

We dated for another year and a half after that. What does that say about me?

Me- Are you okay?
Her- My head hurts.
Me- No shit?

Mission aborted.

2007-01-10T17:55:00.000-08:00

What would a bad relationship be without regret. Probably a good one.

My ex was driving me to work one night at my overnight job as she had been doing all winter. When we pulled into the parking lot, she decided to park in the back instead of driving up to the front. In my head, I’m thinking this is the start of a very ugly night.

Her- I want to talk to you about something.
Me- Can we do this after work?
Her- No.
Me- Please?
Her- Fine. Have fun at work.
Me- Ooooo-k?

I go about my night like any other night when my phone starts going off. Hmmm, I bet she’s still in the parking lot.

Her- I need to talk to you right now.
Me- (genuinely concerned) What’s wrong, baby?
Her- Do you love me?
Me- Of course I do. Is everything ok?
Her- I don’t know. I think so. I don't know.
Me- Can this wait till after work, babe?

Wrong thing to say.

Her- Blah blah blah (goes on for five minutes or so) blah blah blah. Do you ever care about anything? Something about something. You don't love me! Yadda yadda yadaa. I’m pregnant!

Holy shit!

Her- …and yes, its yours.

It fucking better be.

So I get off of work to continue this conversation in person. “Ummm, I have a family emergency.” It was kinda true.

According to Chris Rock, I said one of only two things I was allowed to say...

(its all funny, but I'm talking about the 3:10 mark)

Me- What are you gonna do?
Her- I don’t know.
Me- Whatever it is, I'm completely behind you.

I’m such a great boyfriend.

We (mostly she) decided we weren’t ready. Sure, I guess we weren't. Whatever. We went through the proper channels and finally found ourselves at the ‘unholy’ place a few weeks later. Being there just felt illegal. Almost like we were attending a secret civil rights meeting in the 50's. The legal limit (we were told) was three months, we were just shy of two. When they called her name, I looked her right in the eye and made my final attempt.

Me- I don’t want you to do this.
Her- What?
Me- We can do this. We can make it work.
Her- We can’t.
Me- Yes we can. Don’t do it.
Her- We’re already here.

Whaaaaaa?!? We’re already here!?

Was she serious? That’s her excuse? What the fuck? I’m a decent person, so I wasn’t gonna make her feel like a shitty person about her decision. I held her hand and that was that. Saying it was a disturbing experience would be like saying Hitler wasn't a nice guy. Yeah, understatement of the year. **Side note: Whatever you may believe in, I do not recommend such a choice. You die a little inside. Unless you're a robot. Are you a robot?**

For the rest of our relationship, she always used that as a crutch against me like it was my choice. "I did that for us, and now -insert current fight here-." Bullshit. One of her arguments was it would have hindered her career as an aspiring 'entertainer', for lack of specificity and keeping the somewhat innocent still innocent.

After we broke up, I did some math (which I'm surprisingly good at) and realized the possible window of conception was a span of four or five days where I was only with her for two of them. The other couple of days she was on a camping trip with a youth group. Coincidence? It may explain her refusal to change her mind. Or maybe she was just selfish. Either way, I’m glad she’s not the mother of my child.

Fucking Psycho.

After typing this, I'm starting to feel like a horrible person. It’ll pass, I'm sure. It always does.

Fun and games at the hotel.

2007-01-09T17:55:00.000-08:00

Its hard to get actual alone time when you live with your parent(s). Having sex becomes an exciting game of hind-n-seek, but increasingly more difficult when the walls are paper thin or when you’re not allowed to close the door. My ex thought getting a hotel would be a great idea. We did it a few times, all of which ended with fights. This one was my favorite…

We got a room at the Best Western in town for our 1st anniversary. Not too bad of a place. I did the candle and rose pedal thing before I picked her up. We stopped by the kinky store to pick up some fun things and I bought two videotapes for the camera. Oh yeah, that’s how I roll.

We did the whole romantic thing that night. CORRECTION: We tried to do the romantic thing that night. The roses, the blindfold, the camera, the edible everything, we did it all. If I had to give some advise on this, I’d say to leave out the edible everything. The panties are stupid and the lotion is unusually sticky. She didn’t like that. At all. Ungrateful bitch.

After our first go round, she started to stick to the sheets and the surrounding petals. That put her in a very unsavory mood. She wants to call it a night. Whatever. Fine. I decide to order a movie because I am still full of energy and not tired at all. If I remember right, it was American Pie. According to her, it might as well have been hardcore, midget porn.

Her- Oh, so because you can’t fuck me again you’re gonna fucking watch that shit.
Me- Go to sleep.
Her- I’m not gonna let you watch this.
Me- The fuck you’re not. I just paid for this shit and I can’t sleep. Go to sleep.
Her- Blah blah blah and some other stuff that's not important enough to remember.

She won’t shut up.

Me- Fuck this, I’m going home.
Her- I drove stupid.
Me- First of all, don’t ever call me stupid. Second of all, I know you drove, that’s why I’m walking. The room is in your name so feel free to stay.
Her- You’re an asshole.
Me- You’re an ungrateful psycho.
Her- Stop calling me that.

It was my pet name for her.

I gathered my things and started walking home. It was only five miles or so, I’ve done worse. She tries to call my bluff, but I’m halfway home already. I don't fucking bluff. My phone rings.

Her- If I jumped out of this window, would you even care?

Not that night.

Me- Do you know how much it’d hurt if you didn’t die?
Her- I have one leg out and I’m sitting on the windowsill. You don’t love me. It’s all about sex with you.
Me- You’re insane and you need help. I’m not coming back. (click)

It’s a good thing she was full of shit because I just kept walking. She drove to find me like I knew she eventually would, but she couldn’t find me at all because I took the back roads. I did see her pass ahead of me though. I doubt she saw me. She was waiting in the parking lot for me when I finally got home. We exchanged some words and I invited her inside for an hour or so to make up.

I was not the brightest bulb on the sign, but I refused to burn out.

The weekend getaway.

2007-01-08T17:55:00.000-08:00

This is pretty much the halfway point of The Chronicles. Hope they've been entertaining thus far.

Since I've lived in Washington, I've only been to the coast once. That one time was with the ex-girlfriend I write about every week. She thought that it would be a great birthday present for me. My birthday is in December.

We went in late-January.

I got a late birthday present to the ocean in the middle of winter. Boy, am I lucky or what?

Truth be told, it was a nice gesture and a decent little getaway. The town was pretty empty so we didn't have to share our vacation with anyone. The sex was great, which was usually a given (we had great chemistry). We didn't really leave the room at all the whole weekend due to all the rain and coldness and such. We ended up having a rare couple of days of just enjoying each other's company. It was nice. That all ended when my girlfriend noticed I had a voicemail on my phone after the last of many 'workouts'.

Her- Did you know you had a voicemail?
Me- Really? Could you check it for me? Maybe something's wrong at home.

I had nothing to hide. Besides, I really wanted this shower. I guess you could say I wasn't much of a thinker back then. I hurried in the bathroom with hopes of starting my shower before she was done checking the message. I took entirely too long.

Her- Who's ********?

Oh. Fuck.

Me- Who?
Her- You heard me.
Me- She was one of my neighbors. Why? Did she call?
Her- The Mexican bitch or the White one?

She kept tabs on my cute little neighbors.

Me- The White one.
Her- Why is she calling you and how the fuck did she get your number?

Here come 'the fucks'. We were having such a nice weekend too.

Me- She moved to California not too long ago. She's a nice girl, so I told her to stay in touch.
Her- Why the fuck would you do that? Did you fuck her before she left or something?
Me- No. What did she say?
Her- She says she misses you and she loves you. What the fuck is going on? You fucked her, didn't you!?

At this point, most girls begin crying just at the thought of their boyfriend cheating on them. The keyword in that sentence is 'most'. Her tears came from her hair. You might call it sweat. Besides, why would you say that on someone's voicemail who has a girlfriend? This is what I get for being too nice to these girls.

Me- Maybe she had a thing for me. I can't control that.
Her- Is *** even a fucking California area code?

I do not like where this is going.

Her- I'm fucking calling her.
Me- She's in fucking California. Leave her alone.
Her- No. I'ma find out what the fuck is going on.

She calls her up on my phone. I decide to finally take my shower. Possibly my last shower while I'm still breathing. When I got out, I get a confused, but satisfied, look from my girlfriend. The calm before the storm.

Oh shit.

Her- I talked to her.
Me- (starting to sweat) What did you say?
Her- I told her that you're taken, and that you don't love her, and that she should never call you again.
Me- You are a mean little girl. What did she say?
Her- She said that you are two-faced and she hates you.
Me- (sarcastic laughter) Nice.
Her- Whatever. So you didn't fuck her?
Me- I didn't fuck her.
Her- Why don't I believe you?
Me- Because you have severe trust issues, and I hate that about you.

We eventually made up before the drive back. Thankfully. That would have been a long and awkward ride back. Instead, it was just long.

Ending fuck count:
Me- 2
Her- 9

She always beat me in the cursing department.

I found this the other day. I'm glad we never owned a dog.

I'm living with Connie Corleone

2007-01-07T17:55:00.000-08:00

Maybe I was naive. Maybe I had poor judgment. Maybe I was just stupid. Why else would I fall for someone who had some severe emotional issues?

After almost two years of dating and four years of friendship, we finally started living together. I say 'finally' like this step was eagerly anticipated. It wasn't. She had already moved out on her own with plans of me going with her, but I bailed at the last minute. Then she nagged me to move in with her for a month or so before I caved and took the plunge. By far the biggest mistake of my life.

No, the second biggest. The first would be me eating all those damn cucumbers when I was ten. That was a mistake.

Living together made our fights more challenging since we really didn't have the power to 'go home' anymore. Something I did learn though was the old saying "Never go to bed mad." is complete and utter bullshit. If you are upset in the living room, you will be upset in the bedroom. Being naked in soft sheets does not make you less angry. Being naked in soft sheets just makes you horny. That's a problem when there's a naked human being next to you who has no intention of touching you for at least another 24 hours.

After a fight one night over something that probably involved another woman or my ‘lack of love’ or something (those were always the hot topics of discussion), she started swimming in the deep end of the pool. Well, more so than usual in this case.

She locked herself in the bathroom to begin with. A door lock has never stopped me before and it wasn’t going to that night. I picked the lock to find she had rigged the drawer to keep the door from opening more than an inch and a half. Now, if this was a normal girl and a normal relationship, I would have let her be and left the apartment. This particular woman has a tendency to attempt suicide from time to time and she proceeded to list aloud all the sharp things available in the bathroom. It was the only reason I was forcing myself in there. This was all a part of her ‘you don’t care about me’ routine. Whether it was a cry for help or a cry for attention, I had to treat each instance like it was the real deal. I threatened to break the door down before she finally came out. I should have left her in there.

She flew right past me and into the bedroom where she commenced in trashing everything in there. Pictures, clothes, hangers, clock radios (we had two), and sheets were thrown about. Thank God (or whoever) she was smart enough to not pop the waterbed or spike the TV. She did, however, manage to put a very huge dent/crack in the closet door. I didn’t care. I wasn’t on the lease so it's not like I lost my deposit. I just let her go through the motions and get it out of her system so I can make her clean up when she’s done.

If you’ve ever seen The Godfather, you’ll remember the scene where Connie completely trashes her and her husband’s home after finding out he’s been seeing another woman on the side. Yelling and screaming and breaking everything that was breakable. This was very similar to that scene, except I wasn't seeing another woman and I didn’t beat her with my belt like Carlo did. I did, however, end up having to wrestle her to the ground to save us a trip to the ER.

She found an extension cord on the ground and wrapped it tightly around her neck. Oddly, this wasn’t the first time I’ve seen such a production, so I let her do it. I knew she was bluffing. I allowed it until she actually called my bluff and tightened the tension on her neck. I took her down as fast as possible without inducing an injury and I threw the cord across the room. I yelled at her until my voice was hoarse and she eventually calmed down, and then she began sobbing. After she closed the floodgates, I watched her clean up her mess while she repeatedly apologized for her psychotic episode.

Fucking Psycho.

Me- What the fuck is wrong with you! Why do you always do this!
Her- (sobbing)Why do you act like you care?
Me- I’m probably the only person on Earth that would ever put up with your shit.

That little exchange of words was a frequent occurrence in our relationship. It's true what they say: Love is blind.

Who fights over a shower?

2007-01-06T17:55:00.000-08:00

Myth: Sharing a shower could be a nice, romantic moment. Washing your partner is a valuable bonding experience that every couple should do. It is sensual and it builds up your comfort level with each other. Plus, the sex is fun.

Fact: Sharing a shower is an uncomfortable event. Washing your partner is fun at first, then you freeze your balls off in the back of the shower while she washes her hair for ten minutes. Sure, it saves money on you water bill, but that's the only plus. Sex could be fun, as long as you have a bath mat, some kind of lube that doesn't sud up, and you don't try to perform oral sex under the stream of water. I almost drowned once doing that. Plus, there was quite the height difference. I may be flexible, but I'm not a fucking gymnast.

My girlfriend used to love taking showers with me. Its nice every once and a while, but not every fucking day. I tried to boycott it, but she threatened to boycott giving blowjobs, so I crossed the picket line even though she wasn't very good at it anyway. I got her one time though. Although, I really shouldn't have.

I got home well before she did one day and I decided to enjoy a shower.

Best. Shower. Ever.

I didn't freeze. I didn't slip at all. I didn't even have to share the bathroom mirror afterwards. It was a wonderful occasion. You really take things like that for granted until you are unable to do it anymore. I was able to put on some pajama bottoms and free-ball it while I watched a good movie. The fun ended when she got home.

Me- Hey baby.
Her- Hi honey. Get off early?
Me- Yeah. I didn't feel like being there any longer so I left.
Her- I need a shower bad. Join me?
Me- I already took one.
Her- What?! Really? Without me? Why would you do that?
Me- Sometimes I wanna take one by myself. That's all.
Her- Is there something wrong? Why didn't you want to wait for me? Are you mad? I don't understand? Whah whah? Whah Wah Waaah?

Every argument turned into an episode of Peanuts and I was always Linus.

Me- Calm down. It was just a shower.
Her- Is there someone else?

That was a favorite of hers to pull out. Every time there's a break in our routine, there has to be another woman.

Women wonder why I act so weird now. Blame her. Its all this bitch's fault. She ruined me for the rest of you.

I came across this webpage full of crazy ex-gilrfriend voicemails. Funny shit.

I was dumped. Me.

2007-01-05T17:56:00.000-08:00

Getting dumped is like a blindside sack.

You take the snap, feeling good about how the game is going. You drop back, liking how the play is unfolding. Your options are open, your protection is good, and everything is great. Then BOOM!, you’re on your back. You never saw it coming. (sorry, watching Monday Night Football right now).

I was at work when I got sacked. I got the text message that will forever be burned in my brain:

I’m not happy anymore.

That message was the beginning of the weirdest 25 days of my life. I asked her why she wasn't happy. She had no real answer. We ended up having a fight over it that night. Then my honesty turned a bad situation worse, which often often does. I happened to tell her that sometimes I fell that I was taking advantage of her. That was bad. After the customary crying on her part, I offer to sleep in the spare bedroom. She laughs and insists on me not sleeping there at all. Something about needing ‘space’ or something. Whatever.

I was homeless.

We still saw each other every few days and we still had sex a few times. I saw her more often when her car was stolen and she needed me. Ironic.

I was being used.

She was very cold one day and warm the next. It was like some bi-polar condition that switched every 22.5 hours. She had turned into this small volcano of indecisiveness that erupted at random, unexpected intervals. First, the kicking me out was supposed to be for a few days, then it became day-to-day. Second, we ‘were not breaking up’, then she was ‘beginning to hate me’. It was all funny, but it wasn’t.

I was her emotional punching bag.

I'm not a pussy by any means, but I was a gaping vagina that month. Yes, gaping. It all would have been better if I had known what was up and not been teased into thinking it would get better. Oh well.

Her car 'disappears'.

2007-01-04T17:56:00.000-08:00

Irony is a motherfucker.

In an ironic twist, my ex had her car stolen during our month apart. This happened just after she stopped paying her insurance so I assumed it was repossessed. If it was, she went through great lengths to hide that secret.

She called me for help and I quickly drove over there. I called the police for her and took care of the details for her and I blah blah blah for her. I would have done it for anyone. After the useless cop left, she asked me for more help. Even though I know she was thinking (and probably still thinks) I had something to do with her car disappearing. I wish I were that petty.

Me- Oh, now you need me? (in my most asshole-ish tone)
Her- (fake tears) How am I supposed to get to work now?
Me- Working 65 miles away isn’t such a good idea now, is it?
Her- Please!
Me- I would do anything for you. You know that.

Me driving her to work and picking her up everyday became my sorry excuse to see her. Sure, it took a toll on my piece-o'-shit car, but it gave me a small ounce of hope…and prolonged the sex life. I was a sad boy.

The real point of this story is for me to tell the happenings of a particular day driving her to work.

I stayed the night prior to driving her to work one day so I wouldn’t have to wake up as early. I doubt she even wanted me there seeing as we slept in the same bed (oddly enough), but didn't really acknowledge each other. Oh well.

In the morning, she was getting ready for work and woke me up about 5 minutes before time to go so I could fully wake before I drove (it takes me a minute). She was being unusually nice and flirtatious with me for whatever reason. I try not to question good things; I just try to let them happen. This good mood continued to the car where she was being extra touchy-feely with me. She kept flashing me and giggling like she was all coked up or something. Being 19, I just played along. In fact I did ‘play along’ the majority of the ride. The automatic transmission is a great invention. It leaves you free to use your off-hand for whatever a job may call for. You know, like adjusting the radio.

We arrived at her work, all smiles. I pulled into a parking space far from the building so she could ‘compose’ herself without a co-worker seeing. I get out to open the door for her and help her ‘re-adjust’ when I felt a pitbull lock its jaw on my soul…

Her- What the fuck are you doing!?
Me- I’m giving you a hand?
Her- I really don’t want people to see me bottomless.
Me- (there is no one around) Who the fuck is gonna see you? Let me help you put on your panties so you can go to work.
Her- Don’t touch me. (awkward silence)
Me- Well, have a great day at work, babe.
Her- I really don’t like you. Be here at 5.
Me- Whatever. If I show up, I show up.

I did show up, but I refused to let her control the stereo on the way home.
Ha! Take that bitch!

I'm psycho too, or so it seems.

2007-01-03T17:56:00.000-08:00

All good things must come to an end. All bad things, however, usually never end. Well here it is, the end. It’s only fitting for our relationship that the cops would be there.

We were taking a ‘break’ (Friends-style) at the time, which informally kicked me out of the apartment, but that’s another story. I still had a working key since all of my stuff was still there and I frequently used it to pick up random CDs (back when paying for CDs were fashionable) or clothes. I also used it to check for clues to who (if anyone) was fucking my girlfriend. Not my proudest of moments.

Either she caught wind of this or she just wanted to drive that 4-inch nail in the empty plywood coffin that I called a relationship, she officially kicked me out...and never told me. I found this out when my key no longer worked. Thinking I was outsmarting her, I went to the apartment manager to get some help. They actually had my name at the front desk on a ‘do not accommodate’ list. Bitches.

Apparently I wasn’t on the lease and had no rights to the inside of the apartment. Mainly due to the fact that I never got around to putting my name on said lease even after being pressured every day by the girlfriend. That was my anti-genius moment. Whatever, I later learned she was unable to make rent so luckily I wasn’t liable to compensate. So I kinda reversed my anti-geniusism (real word).

I left a short, emo-inspired note on the door, “Why?”, and left to blow off some steam. Deja Vu was calling my name.

I’ve never been to a strip club before that day. Mostly because my ‘loved one’ frowned upon it (she dripped insecurity). For some reason I really needed to see a naked woman to calm me down. It worked...$250 later.

Strippers are really nice when tipped correctly. I paid for a great deal of lap dances from a girl who was new after being a long time waitress (awfully cliche). I recommend those because they actually care about your enjoyment. I hit on her, only to be politely turned down and that's when I left. If only she took me up on my offer, my night would have ended a great deal better.

My mom lived twenty miles away and the psycho's apartment was one and a half miles away. I thought I might as well stop by and try to talk things out. I pulled up and saw her parking space being occupied by a very familiar car...that wasn’t hers. I recognized the car as a friend/'co-worker' of hers that I already had doubts about. That was when I found myself at a fork in the road.

I could have received the hint and left, and then decided how to get my things later. I could have also grabbed my ‘foreign object’ from my car and dealt with this in a final fashion. What I ended up doing was running up the stairs and scaring the shit out of both of them, yelling obscenities, and making sure all her neighbors knew what kind of woman they were living next to. Keep in mind I was only 19. A very mature 19, but still a teenager. I'm not proud of that.

I challenged the ‘man’ to come out and prove himself. I challenged her to come out and have an adult conversation. I was the fucking psycho that night. I even challenged her to call the police on me, which she did. I would usually regret that challenge, but I was too smart for that shit.

I waited on the steps for the police to come. I saw them pass the apartment so I waved them down. I ran out to greet them and this was the jist of our exchange:

Me- Hello Officers. I’m pretty sure you are here on my account. (completely sober, by the way)
Police- What the hell is going on? Are you some kind of gang member, Sir? You’re wearing a lot of red.
Me- I’ve been kicked out of my home and I guess I’ve been making a lot of noise. My now ex-girlfriend has some guy up there now and I just want to get my stuff. Oh, and are you serious?
Police- Well, sit in the back and we’ll go talk to her.
Me- Can't you just handcuff me and let me in? That would help me out a lot.
Police- If I handcuff you, we have to take you in, and you don’t want that.
Me- What makes you so sure about that? That was a joke by the way.

Time passes.

Police- Sir, she says she doesn’t want you around, and frankly, I don’t think you want to be around her anymore. She doesn’t seem worth it and if she ever comes back around, you’re not gonna want her back. Just go home or whatever and call us when you want to arrange removal of your stuff.
Me- Yeah, but it still sucks.

In the back of my mind I was thinking about how bad it could have been if I would have had anything on me at that time.

Well, I still had to get my stuff.

2007-01-02T17:56:00.000-08:00

It was officially over, but I still didn’t have any of my stuff. A week or two later is when we finally decided on a a time convenient for both of us. We did this all through text messages between me and the 'new guy' of course. Me and the ex had no desire to talk to each other.

I showed up with my 14 year old brother and my step-dad to collect my things. I had to get my waterbed, my dresser, my kitchen table, a TV, and some other stuff. I’d be damned if I let her keep any of my shit.

I get there and I can feel my heart beating at an insane rate. My hands were numb and my vision was getting blurry. I was subconsciously ready to fight someone. Anyone. I had my brother know on the door so I wouldn't have a knee-jerk reaction and hit the first face that peered from behind the door. When the door opened, all those feelings went away.

The ‘new guy’ answered my brother's knocks with a nervous smile. He was this Jon B./Maroon 5 looking ass who was actually a nice guy. It's a little hard for me to hit a nice guy. That, and the ex’s two, junior high aged brothers were there along with their mother. This startled me because in 5 years of knowing her this was the first time I’ve ever met her birth mother (she was a foster child). The ex opted to stay in the kitchen making me look like some kind of abusive monster in front of her family. That would have been the smart thing to do except that I’ve never, and would never, hit her no matter how much she she deserved it.

Her brothers helped me collect my things that were already in the center of the living room ready to go. I go into the bedroom to find the waterbed taken apart already, but the mattress was still full of water. How they did that, I'll never know. I just looked at it and smiled. There was no way I was taking the bed that may or may not have been ‘tainted’ by Maroon 5-guy. I really didn’t feel a need to tell anyone this either. “Yeah, we’ll come back with a pump for this bed.” I may have been childish, but it made me happy.

We loaded everything we could into my step dad’s van which left the dresser for a second trip. I went back upstairs to make sure I had everything and to say my peace. It was a short, ‘what could have been’ speech that probably made me look like this great, mythical boyfriend or just some emo bastard. Whatever. I told them I’d be back for the big stuff.

When I walked downstairs to my pile of things on the curb, I found a little basket filled with every note/letter I’ve ever written to her on top of the dresser. After seeing this, I looked at my step-dad and told him I was not coming back. “They can deal with the stuff on the curb (the dresser was a cheap one) and they can deal with that big bag of water in the bedroom. I refuse to come back here ever again.”

The ex sent me a text the next day asking if I was coming back to collect the rest of my stuff. I responded:

No, I don’t want it. Don’t ever contact me again.

And she didn't.

Epilogue

2007-01-01T17:57:00.000-08:00

There's an epilogue to my tale of humor/sadness

Fate has a way of biting me in the ass. Examples:

-I was forced to move in with my mother after being kicked out of our apartment. Soon after, she moved back in with her parents. Her parents lived within walking distance from my mom. I had to pass it every day to drop my brother off at school. Awkward. Probably made me look like a stalker or something.

-Years later, I got an aparment directly across the street (and owned by the same fucks that banned me) from the one I vowed to "never return to".

-When I officially began a relationship with a recent girlfriend, I was at a friend's wedding. My friend's wedding was at the same venue where I attended my prom with, you guessed it, the ex.

Looking back at it all, the good times definitely out-weighed the bad. Although, the bad weighed a shitload. Its like saying the tumor only takes up a 10% of my leg. Compare that to my hand and my hand is gone. Bad analogy, but you get the point. I would call it a bi-polar relationship. Extreme highs and extreme lows.

I do have a lot more stories that I could share, but exactly how much of an asshole do I wanna be? Honestly, if I shared any more, it'd be a little easier to find out who she is and for her to sue me in some way. That wouldn't be very neighborly of me. Also, I made it a point to not share anything that didn't directly involve me. Now, if I were offered a book deal or a movie-type offer, then I might buckle.

...and I do have movie material. Man, there is some good 'R'-rated shit.

I came across an actual store that sells apparel for these crazy bitches. I laughed.

Reader Submissions Welcome

2006-12-31T00:57:00.000-08:00

The site's been up for a slew of years now. In those years, it's steadily gaining popularity (especially around Valentine's Day) even though nothing is being added on a regular basis. I've decided to make some changes to keep things from going stale and being forgotten. If you think you have a good story or two, feel free to email it to me. I'll put it up for others to read and take what they can from your experiences. Stories can be from men or women, young or old. Just make it worth reading.

Just know:
1. Any names included in the stories will be changed by me to protect the guilty.
2. If the story doesn't sound legit, it won't get posted.
3. Pictures will be enjoyed, but not posted.
4. I'm sure there are other things I should say, but I can't think of any right now.

Submit A Story

Reader Submission #1

2006-12-30T22:06:00.000-08:00

I haven't spellchecked this or even named this post, but this was in my mailbox this morning (11/27/11) so I'm throwing it up here:

I'm not entirely sure whether you have recently updated your blog or not but I thought I'd give you a crazy ex-girlfriend story. I think it's probably a slight step down from the insanity in some of your stories, but nonetheless:

When I was 16, I met a girl swinging on a swing popping a pill and drinking bourbon. Naturally I was curious as I hadn't encountered too many girls my age taking drugs and what not. Anywho so I asked her to clarify what she was taking and she tried to deny it with a sneaky grin on her face. Fast forward several months and I've found out that she enjoys playing computer games, we share the same humour -- whatever. We're two weeks into a relationship together when I start to realise I honestly didn't find her attractive and when I kissed her it made me feel like vomiting. This being my first 'relationship' I tried to tell her that I was simply to overwhelmed with course work at school but there was still a chance for us to get back together. Only a chance, it was my weak way of letting her down easy. Instead we developed a friendship and became fuck buddies for a while until I finally met a girl that gave me butteflies in my stomach. The year was 2011 and I had just been introduced to this amazing girl through a friend of a friend. We talked incessantly over messengers and what not, and when I found out she was moving to my city I decided to call off friends with benefits a week before her arrival.

Just before I told her, my house was subjected to flooding and we lost everything so I had to stay with a friend for a couple of days. I chose my ex-girlfriend because I felt we had grown fairly close and to get some last time action ( without kissing of course). I spent only one night at her place and the next morning I decided to bail and live with the rest of the family with my cousins as we had just been through a catastrophe, so I mentioned it to her that morning. I told her that I had 'found a girl, I'm extremely interested in dating and so I'm calling off friends with benefits' to which she responded ' you can't just call it off. what!'. Despite the fact I had laid down the rule we can call it off whenever because we were simply just friends having some fun, she didn't take it too well. In my ignorance I continued treating her as a friend until I started going out this amazing girl.

Being the young and totally inexperienced relationship man I am ( 19 years old), at some point I thought it would be a good idea to let me ex-gf meet this amazing girl I had dropped her for. So they originally met when some mates and I went clubbing and ironically enough they hit it off they really enjoyed each others company and exchange phone numbers. I don't entirely remember this event with pristine detail, but simply my ex-gf had talked shit to my current gf about our intimacy woven with some other lies and she tried to tell me that my current gf was lying to which i said I don't care about this girl drama I just wasn't okay with it.

Fast forward a few months nearing the end of my friendship with my ex-gf. She tells me she's been receiving texts from people with a running motif of 'stay away from my girlfriends boyfriend' or whatever. Naturally, I don't appreciate this invasion or privacy / security so I put on my detective goggles and tried to work out what was happening. For the record, I never saw of these text messages, i simply trusted who I thought was a friend. My ex-gf then starts to tell me she's receiving abuse texts and phone messages from my GIRLFRIEND and lots of various numbers. So after reading the ridiculous stupid text my girlfriend had allegedly sent which said 'hahahhaahahah yoUr pAthetiC you chased him for so long and could never get him.' I decided to ask her whether anything of the sorts had been sent. My girlfriend started crying over the phone telling me she would never send any of the junk, ( it wasn't even her usual texting style ) and that she had removed my ex-gf's number after that conflict a couple months ago.

Anywho, the plot thickens when I tell my ex that she's full of shit. The following week she records a bunch of numbers including my girlfriends number, (during the situation I forgot they had exchanged numbers a couple of months ago) and trieds to pin it on her number and tells me she's rung the phone companies and that she has a message log of her phone saying that a message was received by my girlfriends number to her. Ironically when my girlfriend and I fight about it and I'm becoming increasingly suspcious and internally conflicted as I don't know who to trust, my girlfriend pays money to have her entire message transcript sent out to her. The official document I saw it had no record of any other texts besides her good night text to me that night. So relieved, I tell the ex that it must've been a mistake or something because there was nothing recorded on her transcript. The following few days, my ex tells me that she has signed documents from the phone companies saying the recording towers were down for 30 minutes during the exact time the stupid 'girl drama' message was sent. AT this same point we talk on the phone and she asks me DURING THE MIDDLE OF THIS SITUATION whether there was still any chance of her and I getting back together. I kind of just laughed and said no sorry there was never really any chance we're only friends. Apparently she's been too cold to ever cry but I made her cry during that phone call.

The final stretch of my ex-gf episode was following the recording tower losses. She tells me she went to the POLICE and that she has obtained message transcripts of my girlfriend and the people she's apparently colluding with to ORGANISE HARASSMENT of my ex-girlfriend. I probably should have mentioned that everytime she reportedly received the message banks and abusive texts at 2-3am in the morning and they went off every day. Funnily enough she could never turn her phone off or get a new number because she was the emergency next of kin to her mother. Sorry that was sort of a major psycho segment I forgot.

At this point I'm divided, I've put up a long fight against my ex to protect my girlfriend because there has never been any official evidence simply just her word, while my girlfriend has stood by me with documents and reporting everything that's going on to me. So I decided it was time to end this shit, so I grabbed my best friend and we drove out to my ex-girlfriends place who lives on the other side of the city. A few of the reasons I decided to see the transcript was because she told me it was literally just a whole bunch of intimate details about her and shit like that. It had evidence of my girlfriend texting a vast amount of messages to 4 other people ( in a big group conversation) abusing me with names and attacking my sexuality too.

So we read these alleged transcripts. Sure they looked authentic but the couple pages of transcript that she had apparently 'taken' from the police because she was planning on pushing charges on my girlfriend for defamation resembled nothing of what she had said. I should probably clear up why she didn't have the whole transcript. Apparently the police gave her the transcript because she wasn't going to press charges and she went to 3 different police stations until someone realised that it was illegal for her to them as it's a blatantly obvious a privacy issue and she now planning on pressing charges. The transcripts themselves had literally NOTHING on them about my ex-girlfriend, in fact it had a compliment saying how she was the only one to pick up on my girlfriends scheme where she was trying to extort me. It contained thorough intimate details of my sex-life including a few descriptions that had never happened. Remember this transcript was apparently between my girlfriend and FOUR OTHER PEOPLE . There were grains of truth sprinkled throughout the transcript but all names were striked through / removed and it was never really clear who was saying what. After I had taken this transcript I was really upset and angry. I felt immensely insecure and simply had no idea what to believe anymore. The only aspect of the message transcript that really stood out to me was the use of the word 'bruv' apparently by my girlfriends number. Bruv refers to a good friend of hers and mine who is a guy called brett. It had falsely read that I liked to be fingered up the ass. The statement on the transcript asked one of the group numbers whether 'bruv' had ever asked for it. My mate brett has a great girlfriend called katie. In my distraught state I decided to call up katie who is a good friend of mine and ask her seriously but causally whether simone has ever said anything about me, because ( I lied) some people at the institution they were going too were spreading rumours. She exclaimed no.

I decided immediately after the transcript that I'd explain everything I had read to my girlfriend. Which I did, ending in a long several hours standing outside her apartment complex with alot of tears and her asking what the hell would she extort me for, why would lie about me / reveal our intimate relations. Why would she chase me for so long for the bullshit mentioned in the transcript ( we are both high level musicians and the transcript said she needed me for her trio) which hadn't even been anywhere close to confirmation. It was a long fucked up night and we were both depressed -- me especially. I had no idea who was right and who to trust and I was emotionally and mentally exhausted. Finally, I talked to my best friends brother who is a lot older than us and said 'tell your ex we're going to the police station to sort this out and if she has anything else to say she should tell us now.'

I did exactly as he said and straight away my ex rung me saying that she 'we couldn't go to the police station because they were corrupt and they had removed all evidence of the transcripts and her claim'. That she was also worried about backlash from the police saying she could be convicted and it couldn't happen because she wanted to study law ( you can't have any criminal convictions if you want to be a practising lawyer). How she had taken the transcripts was illegal she said. I reassured her that if she was TELLING THE TRUTH then she had nothing to fear. She simply refused to let me go, so I just hung up on her pretending I had left for the police station. Literally moments later she had rung up my best friend to check whether I had left ( as we were facing each other in person) and he said he had no idea. I never left for the police station, at this point it was the last straw and I knew she was lying. So i sat around relived and exhausted for a couple hours at my friends place.

As I left my friends place, my ex-gf drove past his house ( because we are next door neighbours) and stopped right down the road as I started to cross to my home. She gets out of the car and starts walking up to me telling me I need to listen to her story. This was the last time I ever talked to her and I finally told her 'no, you have absolutely nothing to say to me, leave. Now.' I imagine I had fucking fire in my eyes as she turned tail and left. My girlfriend and I had remained in tethers throughout the situation and we are now still together although I still have lots of irrational thoughts as my ex never claimed responsibility but I realise now it was all just a bunch of bullshit. But the craziest part of all this was the text message my ex sent me a month or so after the situation in which she said: " Yo. Stop telling lies to all your friends. You don't honestly believe I made all that up do you? Your girlfriend never proved she was innocent and I've proved far beyond reasonable doubt that she is guilty. I Still have your texbook by the way. I'm going really well, I just got a job as a model and I"ve met this refreshing guy who studies law with me.'

I never replied to that text, as clearly her infatuation with me still consumed her and she was trying to grab my attention. Later over the course of the rest of the year my friends slowly let slip that she used to follow me through bars and clubs and shit and always talked about me to them and what not.

Sometimes I feel insecure about my ex-girlfriend, she never took responsibility and I will never know if there was actually any truth to the bullshit she was spouting -- frankly I don't care. I dread the day I have to act civil towards her in real life and I know I won't say much and I'm scared I"ll just start shouting at the crazy bitch about how much she pain she has caused. I'm still trying to acquire full trust with my girlfriend as it's hard for me to move on when people don't claim responsibility. But it' sgetting better and I"m trying to control the irrational thoughts that promote anxiety and upturn emotions regarding the situation. I learnt alot about what values consitute 'true friends' and that crazy people really aren't that uncommon.

Sincerely and thank you,

James G.

P.S. sorry it's so long!

The Perfect Girl? Submitted Jan. 13, 2012

2006-12-29T16:17:00.000-08:00

This girl I met... She was perfect. She was pretty. She can hold her drink. Had a job and went to school. She didn't fall for the usual 'frat boys' every girl throw themselves at. Then one day she comes to my dorm and tells me to get dressed and that she was tired of waiting for me to ask her out. She was PERFECT and different.
After that first week, she drove me insane. She would be nice and cool one day and completely psychic the next. I couldn't keep up with her. I was emotionally drained. Every time we went out I increased my chances of dying. I always got into accidents and bad things just always followed when she was around. She was a bad luck. Not to mention extremely clumsy. She was so crazy and mental that I began falling for her so hard. I was whipped and it is sad.
I told her that I was in love with her and wanted to be exclusive. She was so excited and happy and went back to being cool and calm. Then she got to study medicine abroad in england. We ended it and she went insane. She called all the times and cried and hit me and tried to kill me a couple of times. When she left I thought I would be happier with out her craziness and psychotic behavior. But I wasn't. I missed her so much and realized that this crazy nut job was the one for me. When she came back I proposed and she said yes. She is still crazy but I love it.
We've been Married for 10 years now and I want to kill myself everyday because she drives me insane. But I know when it comes down to it I can never be with out her.
The sex was amazing by the way :)