get your own back (1011 hits)
Category: NoneRating: 2 on 9 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by Morph (View user info) at 2004-03-29 09:22:31 EST
I used to share a house with a glamour model. She was a fucking moaning, paranoid, coke head bitch from hell, who thought she was the fittest thing on earth. You'd fuck her, but I wouldn't advise it. I never tried. I wouldn't put my cock near that for money. She looked like a slut, she was 22 going on 32 and had a fat arse. I can see why she might think she was fit but....not for me.
Anyway.
She lived in a lovely house and I rented a room from her. For a princely sum. I washed up dishes, vacuumed when it needed vacuuming and generally looked after things so that I wasn't deemed to be untidy. I was a good housemate. I worked full time too, as a broker. She did glamour jobs(although she would insist she was 'modelling') which included draping herself over the bonnet of cars for cheap promo shots, featuring in the tacky agony aunt pages of the tabloids(£100 per day - she's no Carmen Electra) and standing around at shows/exhibitions handing out leaflets with her face painted like geronimo on acid.
She thought the sun shone out of her arse and every man should instantly fancy her.
She'd come home in the middle of the night, coked out of her brains and scream in her bedroom to herself as she was pining for her rugby playing boyfriend who was in the U.S. coaching. She'd wail and scream and holler for hours on her own until the early hours(as though she WANTED everyone to hear) but if you approached her in the morning to ask if she was ok she'd give a vicious look and tell you to mind your own fucking business and get a life. Get a life like that huh? What really pissed me off was the fact that she'd keep me awake at least two or three times a week with her banshee-like wailing but then bring home a different guy every other night to fuck. Don't get me wrong, I have no objection to fucking - I do it myself, it's just that they were all coke dealers and she just wanted a sniff. My friends and I generally referred to her as the Coke-whore. She was arrogant, ignorant selfish and had a fat arse.
She was doing that much she started getting paranoid about me. She'd open my mail. She used to go through my stuff in my room. She'd accuse me of trying to peek on her while she was changing. She had a serious god-complex and thought the world revolved around her and that she was irresistable.
This kind of trend would carry on for some time. In the end, she got too much for me - listening in to my phone calls, accusing me of fuck-knows-what and her piece-de-resistance(which proved what a fucking devious little slut she is):
She did a kiss and tell in a very famous UK tabloid newspaper...........on Prince Harry.
She was a fucking nightmare.
It got to the point where I would dread going home, so I decided to move out. When I gave her a month notice, she went insane, screaming at me and said I was a selfish cunt with no morals and she hoped I'd die. She was always pretty unreasonable.
I'm a pretty placid guy, so I knew I just had to bide my time.
She left the country a week before I moved out, to go and see "daddy dear" in Montreal. She warned me not to take her car out posing. A shitty little BMW worth about £6k. Her arrogance was beyond belief.
And at this point, when I knew I'd never see her again, I hatched my simple, yet cunning plan.
On the day I left, I wrapped up frozen prawns in tissue paper and pushed them down the back of the radiators.
Next, I half filled the kettle with water, then topped it up to full with washing up liquid, and carefully placed it on the side.
My piece of art was undoubtedly my finest moment. I tipped out five packets of cress seeds on the hallway stairs, and then proceeded to water each step carefully. Given a week.........
I've never seen her since, nor do I know anybody else who knew her. All I'll say is that I always chuckle to myself when I think of her walking in the door, to the stench of rotting fish, a thick luscious carpet of beautifully thick cress all the way up her stairs, and when she goes to make a coffee to get over the shock, a kitchen full of clean fragrant foam.
I hope she screamed.
Anyone with a tiny bit of Google skill won't take long to find her. She might look OK online, but believe me - I'd rather fuck my own mother.
Fuck you SH, you know who you are.
mmmmwwwwwwaaaaa.
User Reviews
Submitted by mystiamoon (user info) at 2004-04-03 03:22:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
+2 for the cute sharky picture
Submitted by apollo88 (user info) at 2004-03-31 06:11:19 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
hehehe, stoopid biatch.
Submitted by Fartman (user info) at 2004-03-29 18:11:40 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
"her face painted like geronimo on acid."
ahahahahahahahhaaahah.
Brilliant.
Submitted by taqueso (user info) at 2004-03-29 13:53:47 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Great stuff. After a bunch of searching, I still have no clue who it is. Maybe I need to know more about UK glamour models...
Submitted by AlwaysAnEagle (user info) at 2004-03-29 12:04:03 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Nicely done, my friend, nicely done.
Submitted by domenad (user info) at 2004-03-29 10:46:09 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I don't mean to be a moron, but what are the cress seeds going to do?
Submitted by BonesForBucks (user info) at 2004-03-29 10:33:08 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
I love revenge stories, especially when the revenge is clever and deserved.
Submitted by Trout (user info) at 2004-03-29 10:02:17 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
Brilliant.
That cress bit is genius.
Kudos to you.
Submitted by Deisangua (user info) at 2004-03-29 09:36:51 EST (#)
Ranking: 2
She looks like a cokehead.