a friend of mine
after waking up at some freshers place, next to said fresher...

want my number?
no, ta. bye!
(5lab, Fri 18 Jun 2004, 17:35, Reply)

Burnt boobs.
Finally went for a date with the most beautiful girl at the university.

Katie was gorgeous.

Date was great.

Back to mine for coffee.

Sadly someone had left their shopping on the floor in the kitchen. I tripped.

Boiling hot black coffee steamed off the once beautiful skin revealed by her slinky low-cut halter top.

I didn't need to ask after Katie then walked home, on her own, with a box of frozen chicken pies between her bra.

Damn.
(microsaulxp, Fri 18 Jun 2004, 17:16, Reply)

the classic
cant believe that no one has mentioned this one! surely most of us have been guilty of it in our time, i certainly know i have been.

picture the scene:

- meet a girl/boy in club
- back to their place
- a night of canoodling follows
- following morning she / he says: 'heres my number will you call?'
- you: 'sure i will!'
- step outside then promptly mutter 'fuck that' to oneself as you scrunch up the paper with the number on and throw it over your shoulder.

come on admit it you all do it.....or is it really just me?
(yokojakamotototo, Fri 18 Jun 2004, 17:05, Reply)

burnt hand
this is not technically a dumping and altogether not that spectacular but its still kinda close to a dumping and always raises a smile among my flatmates.

here goes:
in my first year at uni i burnt the back of my hand quite badly after patting out the back of my jacket after it had caught fire (basically i stood too close to a lit candle and woof! it was ablaze). the following evening whilst out clubbing i started talking to a pretty smart girl, getting along really well when suddenly she tried to hold my hand (you can probably see where this is going...) anyway, she grabbed my hand which was covered in pulsating blisters and burns which caused me to recoil my hand in a pretty spectacular fashion - needless to say she promptly turned away and stormed off never to be seen again. D'oh!
(yokojakamotototo, Fri 18 Jun 2004, 16:48, Reply)

Flatmate...
My flatmate - who is a top girl - made the fatal error of going out with a ginger. An arrogant ginger. The twunt got his sister to pass on the "dumped" message to her.
I hope there are karma banks, he is overdrawn!

Having said that, she is with a very shouty loud dumb Kiwi who I despise *sigh*. I know if he dumps her it will be for ewe.
( Strangey is present at, Fri 18 Jun 2004, 16:43, Reply)

Call interpol
not so much a dumping as an akward parting. A few years ago, iwas out on the "razz" with a few chums when i got chatting to these two broads, one hot one not so hot. Needless to say i scored the hot one, who happened to be french. The next day i get a breathy, frenchy, sexy " ello, its me, i would like to meeet you or something..." so after replaying the message to all my mates i called her and arranged to hook up. we enjoyed a brief fling, knowing all the while she was back to france in a weeks time. on the last day before she left, we were out having a drink and i was feeling her jabs when she started harping on about keeping in touch. i agreed and asked had she a pen and the rest in her bag to exchange details. she rooted through her bag and ripped a sheet of paper... out of her homework journal! she was about 15 and here was me porking her like a 19 year old.

after that i got occasiional emails off her lamenting her poor marks in maths and hatred of her music teacher. dear lord.
(jimpleton, Fri 18 Jun 2004, 16:42, Reply)

Obviously need to meet a crazier type of lady...
...judging by some of the other posts! Here're my two best...

#1- Having driven 300 miles to spend New Years Eve with the gf, she'd decided she didn't want me there and showed this by not talking to me. Not technically being dumped (as that would have involved speaking to me) but that was the bye-bye point. An expensive waste of fuel and a New Years Eve.

#2- Having finally finished with another gf (crazee laydee, kept referring to herself in the 3rd person: "Claire Smith doesn't want to watch that film" ), whilst getting a lift home from the pub in her car she decides to imitate Colin McRae, rally driving around tiny streets at slightly more than the 30mph speed limit whilst bawling her eyes out (nb. Mr McRae might not do the latter part). Slightly rich as she'd dumped me and was already seeing her new bf at the time of the dumping. The skid marks on the road weren't the only ones. Cue my attempt to leave a moving car...I curse the A-Team for putting the idea in my head.
(Chuffdog, Fri 18 Jun 2004, 16:39, Reply)