Elmonalissabeth's bad boyfriend A-Z
The following is a handy in-depth guide to bad boyfriend behaviour. It is entirely based my lived experiences. In writing this I discovered A-Z doesn't cover everything, for example... B has been tricky (beer, barmaids, bums, bellybutton fluff, bitching, beastiality).
The following is a handy in-depth guide to bad boyfriend behaviour. It is entirely based my lived experiences. In writing this I discovered A-Z doesn't cover everything, for example... B has been tricky (beer, barmaids, bums, bellybutton fluff, bitching, beastiality).
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.
Disclaimer - if you happen to notice any of these traits in your own bad boyfriend, I would advise you start planning a handy escape fund, perhaps 50 quid a week or so, so when you finally come to your senses and realise his lack of full potential, or the fact that you will never change him, or you find that photo of a minge on his blackberry, or he admits he'd like to kill you... You can easily escape with enough cash to rent a secret hotel until the coast is clear! Saying that, if cash is tight, get down to the council on the next Monday morning, they can set you up a nice safe house... With a crime reference number of course.
Disclaimer - if you happen to notice any of these traits in your own bad boyfriend, I would advise you start planning a handy escape fund, perhaps 50 quid a week or so, so when you finally come to your senses and realise his lack of full potential, or the fact that you will never change him, or you find that photo of a minge on his blackberry, or he admits he'd like to kill you... You can easily escape with enough cash to rent a secret hotel until the coast is clear! Saying that, if cash is tight, get down to the council on the next Monday morning, they can set you up a nice safe house... With a crime reference number of course.
Disclaimer 2.... I am blogging about real men... real experiences, and even though most of these guys deserve a name and shame, that's not what this is about, so I have changed everyones names, some particular boyfriends have several new names... (I have suffered a tragic love life, but have not had 26 boyfriends). I must add that 'A' discusses the behaviour of 'Rick'... now... I have a mate called Rick...
Dear Rick...
Although we all know you like a cider... and there are many occassions where you have no relocollection of what you did the night before... we have never dated and this is not about you, I love you to bits, but due to your continued comsumption of ale and pork scatchins we will never be compatible.
'Absenteeism'
You are at home, Eastenders is on and you are nursing a glass of Pinot, in the smug knowledge you have the whole sofa to yourself. His dinner is in the oven because he had to rush to his poorly mums, she was out of painkillers and needed a hug from her best son. He said he'll be home by 9, and that's cool, all he does is hog the tele and fart anyway.
It's 10pm, you call him. He doesn't answer.
It's 10.45pm, you call his mum to make sure he hasn't died on the way home.
"Alright Brenda, where's Rick, he said he was popping up with your painkillers and he's not home yet", you casually enquire.
"what are you talking about, I've been at Doris's Ann Summers party all evening I just got home" says Brenda.
(GILFS IN LATEX.... WHERE IS HE.... GILFS PLAYING PASS THE DILDO.... WHERE IS HE.... REALISATION THAT YOU ARE MILF AGE... IF HE'S IN THAT PUB.... vomit enters mouth.... )
*calmly hang up the phone.... put pinot down on side... take deep breath...*
FUCKING PRICK!
So where is he?! Is he actually dead...
"I hope he's dead...."
11.45pm you call again and he answers...
"Alright Rick, hows your Mum?!"
"Oh yeh she's alright so I popped out for a pint on the way home" - He says without one single frickin ounce of guiltyness.
11.45pm you call again and he answers...
"Alright Rick, hows your Mum?!"
"Oh yeh she's alright so I popped out for a pint on the way home" - He says without one single frickin ounce of guiltyness.
But I don't even drink?
"You are so fucking dead"
".....'ere love could you leave a tenner out for my lunch tomorrow"
"Why?"
"Ahhh well, I kinda owed a mate a few quid and I can't find my bank card"
"Are you playing poker???"
"nah.., I'm done with all that, it's for mugs"
"Oh right because Kates out and she saw you" (obvious bluff)
"Oh right... well yeh I did have a few games yeh"
"Screw your tenner". Hang up phone.
"You are so fucking dead"
".....'ere love could you leave a tenner out for my lunch tomorrow"
"Why?"
"Ahhh well, I kinda owed a mate a few quid and I can't find my bank card"
"Are you playing poker???"
"nah.., I'm done with all that, it's for mugs"
"Oh right because Kates out and she saw you" (obvious bluff)
"Oh right... well yeh I did have a few games yeh"
"Screw your tenner". Hang up phone.
*kick washing machine*
He's rolling doubles again....
4am
VERY LOUD DOOR KNOCKING
... You open door, you shouldn't but your too eager to knock his stupid face off.
"Alright darlin, want some kebab it's extra garlicy". Said with a big stupid grin and rolly eyes whilst swaying like a erm... Massive dickhead.
He proceeds towards the toilet where he spends the next 15 minutes trying to piss and eat kebab at the same time, some might call this multi-tasking but I just call it, being a humongous cockjockey.
You make him sleep on the sofa, which in turn smells 'extra garlicy' and of fart for the next 10 days. You hate his guts. You wish you had taken that smelly sofa with said pissed boyfriend still comatosed on it and dropped it in a giant 3-piece-suite sized grave in the back garden... You get the picture....
You make him sleep on the sofa, which in turn smells 'extra garlicy' and of fart for the next 10 days. You hate his guts. You wish you had taken that smelly sofa with said pissed boyfriend still comatosed on it and dropped it in a giant 3-piece-suite sized grave in the back garden... You get the picture....
Look at this idiot I found on google images... why the hell didn't I ever do this? The opportunities were abundant.
Wrap 'em in plastic and drop 'em in a hole.
It doesn't get better. You end up going out one night to find him leering over a dirty barmaid whom everyone knows has syphillis.
Head in vice anyone?
Trust me it never gets better.
Let's move on... It gets better than this... trust me I'm still in therapy :/
Trust me it never gets better.
Let's move on... It gets better than this... trust me I'm still in therapy :/
Muchos Lovos from EL xxxx
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