a dish best served cold

A couple of comments on my last post got me thinking about revenge.

You know, a woman scorned and all that.
If someone cheats on you would you stay just so you could make them suffer, or is it suffering enough to leave and make them live in purgatory without you.
I suppose it depends on the size of your evil mean streak.


Brilliant !

There are plenty of revenge websites now, mostly guys posting pictures the cheating ex allowed them to take, well you let someone do that you need to be prepared for the possible consequences, (I already wrote a post about that) but really there’s no imagination or brains in that type of retaliation.

I think us women are far more devious then that.

My favourite story of revenge is not mine.
But the sheer brilliance and cold calculation of this is just genius really. Evil genius.

If you’re a bit squeamish then you should probably skip the next paragraph.
  

This friend of mine, who shall remain nameless, was living with a fella and found out that he was seeing someone else behind her back. The boyfriend suffered from haemorrhoids, so badly that when he was having an attack he needed to use internal cream. We all knew about this because it was kind of funny, and also because she used to moan about the fact that it affected their sex life. However it was when he suddenly began to ‘have more attacks’ and therefore wanted less sex, that she had become suspicious of him as she noticed that when this happened sometimes he wasn’t actually using the cream.  

 

I don’t remember exactly how she found out the truth but she even knew the other girls name so her suspicions were confirmed.



"For external use only"

She bought some muscle rub cream ( the kind that gets hot once put on your skin) and managed to empty the tube of haemorrhoid cream and replace it with the muscle cream. She then stayed with him for another two weeks, acting like nothing was wrong, waiting for him to have an attack. Then came the night he did and was, so she said, already in pain so went to use his cream. She then told him - as he was apparently writhing on the bathroom floor in absolute agony - that she was leaving him and why.

We always thought she was a bit mental. After that we knew.

But fair play all the same.

I know another woman who found out her husband was cheating with a work colleague. He had a lot of expensive suits - she took all the trousers to a tailors and had the legs of every pair taken up by two inches.

Very clever.

And me ? I’ve had my moments of inspiration too.

The first time I ever lived with a guy, which if I’m honest wasn’t because I loved him - more he had his own flat and I needed somewhere to live, was when I was about 19. We both worked full time, although I got home an hour before him. At first I was cooking every day when I got in, the kitchen in the shared house I was in before was always a mess so I enjoyed having a clean and tidy place to cook in.
But after a couple of weeks the novelty wore off.

mmmmm . . . .meaty chunks



So on probably the third day of coming home to no food the soon-to-be-ex decided to pick a fight, based upon his idea that a man should come home to find dinner waiting for him. The next day I took the day off work and moved my stuff round to a friends then went back to the flat and made him pie, I even made the pastry from scratch.

And the filling ? Dog food.

He gets in “something smells nice" . . . . it did. I put it on a plate for him and once he was sat down and I knew he was going to tuck in said I had to pop out and left.

Never to return.



I’ve also tipped someone’s very expensive aftershave down the sink and replaced it with my own piss.

That was a good one.

Another ex once tried to tell me that I couldn’t go on a night out because he had nothing to do, so I pretended not to mind and then said if I had to stay in I wanted to get kinky.

He agreed.

So I tied him to the bed then went out anyway. Although I made it up to him when I got in. . . . a lot later.

Some people just ask for it.

There was this guy about a year ago, I got chatting to him on a dating site. We were talking to each other for a couple of months, he didn’t strike me as being ‘my type’ so whilst I was happy to chat online I wasn’t really expecting anything to come of it. He also lived a couple of hours drive from me. But anyway this particular day we were chatting and I mentioned that my plans for the coming week end had been cancelled, he suggested coming down and taking me out instead. After a bit of discussion I agreed, bearing in mind that he would need to stay over if we had a drink, on the understanding that he will be sleeping on the sofa.

Unless I decide otherwise . . . . .



He arrives and he is MUCH fitter then his pictures. Happy days. But all he talked about ALL evening was the fucking Foo Fighters. Now I’ve got nothing against them, but do I want to hear a song by song account of every fucking time you’ve seen them live ? No.

Boring.

But anyway, he’s fit, he’s definitely giving me interested vibes and I have needs, so I decide to kill two birds with one stone and shut him up by jumping on him.

Ten disappointing minutes later he tells me he needs a drink, so I told him where to find the juice in the kitchen. His underwear came off with his jeans so I didn’t see it at the time but when he put them on to go get the drink . . . .Oh My God . . . . Horrible old fashioned nylon Y-fronts. 

Pulling pants ? Only if you're blind.

Being me I start laughing - who wouldn’t, and I said that it was a good job I never spotted them sooner because had I seen them first I never would‘ve wanted to get in them. Poor fella looked kinda distraught, he just stood there and said “what’s wrong with them ?” but the more I looked at those pants the more I laughed.

In the end - just so I could compose myself - I went to get the drink. Still laughing so much I was nearly crying.

By the time I poured it I heard him shut the front door on his way out.

Now - I know I maybe shouldn’t of laughed, and I did kind of criticise his ‘performance’ too . . . . well I said “ is that it ? ” But to just leave ? Not so much as a goodbye or even a lame excuse.

Bruised ego and small (well certainly not impressive) man syndrome.

Pathetic.

And very fucking rude.

Ok me naked might not be exactly Kelly Brook but being blunt here the only thing I’d removed was my underwear. Yup. That quick.

One thing I did pick up on was that he rather thought he was gods gift.

To Dave Grohl maybe.


I had a second profile on this dating site.


The following week my alter ego found him, chatted him up, told him all about how horny she was and the empty house she was going to have that week-end.
Loser lapped it up.

Gave him my old mobile number, and an address (that I checked out and was a chip shop 3 hours drive from him) and arranged for him to come round on the Saturday.

There's something fishy going on here...

About 9pm I get a text.

“Think I got your address wrong - I’m outside a chip shop lol - can you send me the right one”

I turned the phone off.
He never did get a reply.

Bitch ? Maybe, but serves him and his horrible pants right.

No wonder I'm single.