How the mighty fall..

Discussion in 'The NAAFI Bar' started by Hector_Chavez_V, Aug 8, 2011.

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  1. I have 3 types of friends, 'friends of friends' that I occasionally bump into and am happy to drink and converse with, 'work friends', a collective of people who I deal with purely for the chance of an earner and my 'real mates', a collective inner circle of proper pals from my dog shit on a stick days..

    Sundays are sacrosant for us, we drift into the same corner of the same pub one by one, no texts or calls are needed it is simply a thing that we do. After a couple of Stella's and a steak sandwich we follow the same route of boozers into town and are all back at our respective pads by midnight.

    It started with a throwaway comment from my Mr's, she simply muttered 'did you know Aaron is seeing that Becky from blah blah?, you know, 'her with the 3 kids'? My fucking heart sank, this Becky is a particularly nice looking bird with a peculiar habit of bleeding blokes dry for a couple of years and siring them an offspring before fucking them off and cashing in, her biggest claim to fame was going out with the black chap from Blue for a couple of months, (apparently his penis is a site to behold, very small and with a curious bend in it just below the glans which is a shame as Ive often wondered aloud about how immense his cock must be)

    Couple of Sundays later Aaron was curiously quiet and had barely touched his 3 Red Aftershocks and banged out early with a muted farewell, I surmised that due to him not going to bed for 2 days that it was just a burnout, fair one, happens to us all, we had discussed his new relationship but he waved it off as 'just a shag', I bought it hook line and sinker and quickly put an early chit in for one of her used tampons, (where possible I collect them), after swapping a couple of texts during the week he seemingly went to ground and was a no show at the weekly Sunday Hangover Summit.

    To date he has cried off an all dayer in Liverpool, a BBQ and a lads night at mine where nakedness and paintball guns become one.

    Alas the inevitable phone call I got after pointing out that he was being a cunt by text was a weasely, painfully eeked out conversation littered with excuses which included the phrases 'can't mate, we're going to York shopping' and 'mate, what ill do is give you a ring when I get back and well go for a couple of beers?' Bollocks, but I can't grieve forever.

    As I sit here I remember the good times, scrapping in a Scarborough pub with the lookalike cast of the League of Gentlemen, giving his fucking petrified face a double thumbs up as he was in the door for a tandem jump, his brief relationship with my sister whereby he once snuck up to the house and was caught trying to get in through her bedroom window by my Dad, 18 stone of furious Paddy dragging him down stairs whilst dressed in my Mum's dressing gown, the tales go on and on..

    Aside from me being heartbroken and sat staring at a picture of the 2 of us unconcious and top and tailing a sofa bed in Spain I have concluded that a cunt struck mate should be cut adrift, it isn't worth the tears. He has blown us out now 3 times, what doesn't help is that his new squeeze fucking hates me with an unbridled and vocal passion after an incident of pure misunderstanding with one of her friends in the toilets of a pub last summer, an incident that to this day makes still makes me shiver in pleasure.

    So thats that then I suppose, another warrior felled by a doe eyed slag, it happened in the block a lot as well, you'd spend months nurturing a friendship based around spending Friday through till Monday morning completely ratted, sharing gronks you've convinced to come back to the accomodation and carrying daring moonlit raids on the galley stores creeping back to the block with a half tonne of corned dog, 4 loaves of bread and the chief chips hat to then lose your trusty new compadre to some fucking child spawning divorcee still hanging onto her pad post divorce..

    Lost any homies to slags lately?
    • Like Like x 1
  2. Schaden

    Schaden LE Book Reviewer

    Is this Hector or has the preggo wife taken over his arrse account?
  3. Oy, I'm wounded, if I can't show my emotion in front of a few thousand pretend people where can I?
  4. Do you miss him rimming your puckered ring piece? Is this the real issue?
  5. Whats a warm bumhole between friends?
  6. Does this mean you got dumped?
  7. Stop dripping and get the beers in, you cunt!
  8. Ravers

    Ravers LE Reviewer Book Reviewer

    I find in situations like this, the best bet is to treat yourself to something.

    Buy a moped.
    • Like Like x 1
  9. See you in London in September. Forget the cunt.
  10. Not lately, but a few years ago. One of mates, the first to buy a round, the first to suggest going out and getting bladdered, and the first to stride confidently up to any bird in front of all her mates and ask if she fancied a shag, got cuntstruck. Even worse, she was the mate of an ex of mine, and absolutely fucking pig ugly.
    He disappeared of the radar completely. It was like losing my left arm (not my right arm, as I wank with that. And we weren't that close).

    But the worst was to come, when he did re-surface for one night out with us, I asked him why he didn't come out anymore.
    "I'd rather spend time with her than you lot."
    Fuck that hurt. It was like having a knife stuck in your guts and twisted.

    I did get my own back on him for saying that though a couple of years later when he told me his missus was pregnant. "Well thats your life fucked then" I replied.
    • Like Like x 2
  11. Before this thread moves on, I would like to hear the story behind the misunderstanding in the pub toilets.
  12. Had a good mate that went the same way. We'd been good mates for a few years until we both split from our other halfs. We'd meet Friday lunch for a few then hurry home to get changed and head of into town to meet up with the rest of the lads. The rest of the weekend was spent on the lash until his mum made us our Sunday lunch and we'd crash out playing Syphon Filter on his PS1 with a couple of cans looking like confused tramps going sober.

    We did the lads holidays, went on the pull and I even gave him my spare room once his gaff was sold.
    He then meets this soppy bird and makes the cardinal sin of telling her about all the stuff we got up to when we went out. BANG!! The cunt trap snaps shut like a fucking Venus flytrap and he's banned from knocking about with me.

    A few months later she fuck him off and he starts texting everyone and turning up to the Friday lunchtime session. Over time he makes up for this crime by buying me copious amounts of the mead, taking lots of shit and introducing me to his sisters mates.

    I haven't spoken to the prick in two years as he did the same thing with the next bird he met and even started dressing and talking differently. I last saw him wearing clothes that wouldn't have looked out of place on the set of The Football Factory. Stone Island coat and hat, I wouldn't mind but the twats never even played or been to a wendyball game.

    Chris, your a friendless chimp and you dress like the EDL. I hope a darkie bum rapes you.
  13. Popular cunt, I don't even have friends never mind friends of friends, you can all fuck off.
    • Like Like x 1
  14. I recommend cutting him loose. Its the best thing for him.

    I know and understand your pain - i have been on both sides of this particular 'arrangement'. To be fair she was the first bird to put her finger up my arse while giving me a blowie and it made me feel like Captain James T Kirk. One marriage certificate later and the wheels well and truly came of that bus.

    So i sloped back to my mates, tail well and truly between the legs. Some forgave me straight away and never mentioned it and others revelled in my pain and still bring it up (8 yrs ago). Guess which ones i hang out with now? Hint- not the boring c*nts!

    This is the best thing about the circle of trust (2/3 friends), we know everything about each other and the abuse is brutal. So bad we will even watch each other stagger into another minefield of emotional and mental pain because - 'think of the slagging we can give him when he comes out the other side!'

    So f*ck him but keep tabs, so you are ready when its all over, to walk him through it from start to finish in a shitty indian restaurant at 0100.
  15. Nail the slag, she blatantly wants you! You and your mate'll 'ave a scrap about it then you'll be back to drinking bullmers in an hour or to like nothing happened! You've got your pal back, she's revealed as the slag she obviously is.