Posters who've had loony partners

[Mich the Tester]

In response to an overwhelming lack of public demand, I have decided to share my story of a loony partner for your delectation.

It might not surprise you to learn that some of my former girlfriends were of the rugby fan variety. The type that hangs around the rugby club bar and pubs trying to hitch on to a sporty man.

One girl was actually so turned on by the sight of mudded, blooded sweaty players that she insisted that after training I ran straight back to her place, without showering, so as to get down to a bit of nookie while still covered in mud and kitted out. This got progressively more extreme, reaching the point that she insisted I put in my gumshield and put my muddy boots on in the bathroom. But OK; it was a bit weird but the sex was good so I didn´t mind. Then she insisted I should wear a jock strap under my shorts instead of swimming trunks as I have always done. OK, I went a long and bought a jock strap. I continued to please her as I was quite enjoying the nookie.

But then one evening, after training, things took a turn for the worse. I ran to her place to work up a fresh sweat, got indoors and then went up to her room. She said ´wait there a moment´, then walked over to her table, reached into a box, and produced an old fashioned razor blade. The hairs on the back of my neck all stood up, and I asked what she wanted to do with that. She said ´let me make a little cut above your eye; I want you to look more warrior-like. Just a tiny cut to get some blood flowing.’ I thought ‘tulip the woman’s a psycho’ and said no. She was pretty insistent but then got into a huff calling me a big wimp etc. Fearing what would happen with a girl in a bad temper and a naked razor blade I rather feebly said I had to get going and left. I ran home, only realising half way that I was still wearing rugby boots and had left my trainers at her place. Well sod it, I wasn’t going back for them. Next morning I woke up, went downstairs to fetch the milk bottles and found my trainers lying on the doorstep on top of a piece of paper. I picked up the trainers, which I later inspected for sharp objects, and the piece of paper, which read ‘you f**king wimp, don’t come back’. Fine, I wasn’t planning on it.

[MarillionFan]

Was seeing this divorced mother of 2 and used to have to hide in the bedroom when her ex-husband came round while she made him cups of tea or breakfast even though he knew full well I was upstairs as we both turned up there together the evening before. Never worked that one out.

Reminds me of a story(not me) of a mate of a mate out in Jakarta who was always picking up waifs & strays.

He'd been seeing some local girl who he reckoned was a little screw loose, for a while and had decided to dump her. So being the class act he was, he nailed her for the last time and then told her. Leaving her in his room to get her kit together and clear out.

When he came back an hour later she'd cut herself and smeared 'I love you!' ,' Please don't leave me!' in blood all over the walls and mirrors. Being the class act he was, he cleaned her up, called her a taxi, put her and and said 'You're still dumped' and told the taxi to take her to hospital.

[d000hg]

I was seeing a young Catholic schoolgirl once who had the unfortunate surname of Shingles (and a very old fashioned Catholic forename) who was slightly off her rocker but was quite nice. I used to do shifts and sleep during the day when on nights but lunch times were ruined as she used to bring all her school mates back to mine at lunch time and so I would enter the living room in my O-backs which would be full of young school girls in uniform. Oh, it was torture getting back to sleep

You were of working age and you were chasing after young schoolgirls?

[Cliphead]

You were of working age and you were chasing after young schoolgirls?

Is there any other kind?

[cailin maith]

In response to an overwhelming lack of public demand, I have decided to share my story of a loony partner for your delectation.

It might not surprise you to learn that some of my former girlfriends were of the rugby fan variety. The type that hangs around the rugby club bar and pubs trying to hitch on to a sporty man.

One girl was actually so turned on by the sight of mudded, blooded sweaty players that she insisted that after training I ran straight back to her place, without showering, so as to get down to a bit of nookie while still covered in mud and kitted out. This got progressively more extreme, reaching the point that she insisted I put in my gumshield and put my muddy boots on in the bathroom. But OK; it was a bit weird but the sex was good so I didn´t mind. Then she insisted I should wear a jock strap under my shorts instead of swimming trunks as I have always done. OK, I went a long and bought a jock strap. I continued to please her as I was quite enjoying the nookie.

But then one evening, after training, things took a turn for the worse. I ran to her place to work up a fresh sweat, got indoors and then went up to her room. She said ´wait there a moment´, then walked over to her table, reached into a box, and produced an old fashioned razor blade. The hairs on the back of my neck all stood up, and I asked what she wanted to do with that. She said ´let me make a little cut above your eye; I want you to look more warrior-like. Just a tiny cut to get some blood flowing.’ I thought ‘tulip the woman’s a psycho’ and said no. She was pretty insistent but then got into a huff calling me a big wimp etc. Fearing what would happen with a girl in a bad temper and a naked razor blade I rather feebly said I had to get going and left. I ran home, only realising half way that I was still wearing rugby boots and had left my trainers at her place. Well sod it, I wasn’t going back for them. Next morning I woke up, went downstairs to fetch the milk bottles and found my trainers lying on the doorstep on top of a piece of paper. I picked up the trainers, which I later inspected for sharp objects, and the piece of paper, which read ‘you f**king wimp, don’t come back’. Fine, I wasn’t planning on it.

[darmstadt]

You were of working age and you were chasing after young schoolgirls?

Other way round, they were chasing after me

[Lockhouse]

AFAIK, the following posters or former posters have had seriously mentally deranged partners in their time;

- chef
- Wilmslow
- the person once known as Tay
- MaryPoppins
- FiveTimes
- wobbegong
- kandr
- hyperD
- EO
- northernrampage
- myself

Any more?

I've been out with several nutjobs - been married three times, current wife is a dream though (been married 8 years - which is the longest so far..... ).

Missus number 2 was a Relate counsellor who also did group counselling sessions in prisons for r3pists and for druggies on probation. You can't do that job and not let a bit of it come home with you. A total fruitloop. When you live with someone as intense as that it really messes with your perception of what a happy family like is like.....i.e. it's impossible to have one. I had to leave before I went as bonkers as her. Everything had to be analysed to the nth degree and nothing could ever be left to develop naturally. It was like living in a laboratory.

The postscript to this is, I had her new boyfriend on the phone to me a year later in tears and totally distraught asking me how I had dealt with her as she had driven him suicidal and he couldn't cope anymore. I suggested counselling.

[MaryPoppins]

In response to an overwhelming lack of public demand, I have decided to share my story of a loony partner for your delectation.

It might not surprise you to learn that some of my former girlfriends were of the rugby fan variety. The type that hangs around the rugby club bar and pubs trying to hitch on to a sporty man.

One girl was actually so turned on by the sight of mudded, blooded sweaty players that she insisted that after training I ran straight back to her place, without showering, so as to get down to a bit of nookie while still covered in mud and kitted out. This got progressively more extreme, reaching the point that she insisted I put in my gumshield and put my muddy boots on in the bathroom. But OK; it was a bit weird but the sex was good so I didn´t mind. Then she insisted I should wear a jock strap under my shorts instead of swimming trunks as I have always done. OK, I went a long and bought a jock strap. I continued to please her as I was quite enjoying the nookie.

But then one evening, after training, things took a turn for the worse. I ran to her place to work up a fresh sweat, got indoors and then went up to her room. She said ´wait there a moment´, then walked over to her table, reached into a box, and produced an old fashioned razor blade. The hairs on the back of my neck all stood up, and I asked what she wanted to do with that. She said ´let me make a little cut above your eye; I want you to look more warrior-like. Just a tiny cut to get some blood flowing.’ I thought ‘tulip the woman’s a psycho’ and said no. She was pretty insistent but then got into a huff calling me a big wimp etc. Fearing what would happen with a girl in a bad temper and a naked razor blade I rather feebly said I had to get going and left. I ran home, only realising half way that I was still wearing rugby boots and had left my trainers at her place. Well sod it, I wasn’t going back for them. Next morning I woke up, went downstairs to fetch the milk bottles and found my trainers lying on the doorstep on top of a piece of paper. I picked up the trainers, which I later inspected for sharp objects, and the piece of paper, which read ‘you f**king wimp, don’t come back’. Fine, I wasn’t planning on it.

A girl with a bit of sass, nice.

Just been catching up with this thread and having a giggle, brilliant.

[BoredBloke]

When I finally split with the mental Irish one (the Hag) it was after a night out in the village where her and my folks live. She had a few drinks and was being fairly normal. Then her brother went home and it was like somebody flicked a switch. She started shouting her brothers name and running in and out of the pub looking for him - she wasn't pissed and she had just said goodbye. I was worried that she would run into the road and get ran over and then I'd not be getting any that night! My brothers went home to tell my folks that I was having problems with her and they came down in the Land Rover to give her a lift home. As soon as she saw it she went to the next level of ****tardidness and started kicking it and calling my parents all the names under the sun. We were all 'British Bastards' that night. Eventully I'd had enough and pulled her away from the Land Rover and she slid over into a muddy puddle - then all the attitude stopped and she was full of apologies and 'would do anything'. Unfortunately my mum and dad were still on the scene so I couldn't take advantage of this kind offer - by then her folks had turned up also!

The next day one of her mates asked if I'd go to meet here. I said no as I was watching a film on sky and although a tulip movie, it would probably have been better than speaking to her. In the end I went down because her mate was worried that she'd do something stupid. I then had 2 hours of her pleading to be taken back etc and me saying No over and over again. At one point she threatened to follow me back to England and would follow me to work and home. A few days later and I was catching the plane from Dublin and I clocked a girl accross the departure lounge who was the spitting image of her. I sat there staring daggers at her thinking that this loon was actually going to follow me back. Only when I passed her in the arrivals hall did I find out that it was somebody who looked a hell of a lot like her. I hope she wasn't a nervous flier and put off by that mental English guy who kept staring at her!

[MaryPoppins]

Jeez Tony. This thread is making me wonder if I'm one of the only sane single females left on Earth.