Not me going to Benidorm sadly, Pam.
Although I have been.

My parents are going. They're veterans, but I'll mention Gator's to them anyway :)

I resemble that remark

Mia pooed in their room last night? Is this a relative or a friend that stayed over? I know how frustrating that can be. Nothing ticks me off more than finding out the girl I brought home from a date crapped in my floor

What a shocker. And after you people treated her so well...

I don't like your tone, sir

There seems to be some question about whether she even existed.

If Pam is real, Pam presents as Bi. The person who came here talking about boyfriend troubles left here talking about a female lover (Siobhan).

I am bisexual in my nature. At times it is very confused for me. As of now thou, I prefer women. My assitant is to make sure that boyfriend does not come back. I feel as though I almost love siobhan.

Pam.

Liar.

:yeldead:I was just upset that I lost the competition. I wrote about it on other thread. I offer no other excuse...and am shocked and appalled at my behaviour.

Pam.

No you aren't appalled, again you are lying. You are an attention whore.

:right:

pam, never leave again!

hopefully yours,

jimmyjojimbob III

I am here. I just got upset. Again I offer no excuse - and it is my fault. I was upset about losing the competition. I was also upset about people on here. I have lost more than I ever win/gain. I wrote better than the girl the beat me. I do not know if I will return to Gotham's writer club. Just in a vbery bad place right now.

Always -
Pam

do you think that if we met in real life we would be friends, or foes?

I think we'd be friends, but I think we'd be the kind of friends where I always break your balls and give you Wedgies and Pink Bellies and embarrass you in front of your other friends and your girl... and then one day you'd snap and come at me with a butterfly knife. You'd be really dunk though, and you'd trip on a lawn chair and fall on your knife and cut one of your fingers off. I'd feel really bad, and drive you to the ER with your finger in a bag of ice. They'd reattach it and thank me for thinking so quickly, but you'd still blame me for it, and there would be this unspoken friction between us from that day forward. It would all end when you catch me and Baby in the hot tub having a naked splash fight. My obituary would say that I was killed in a freak accident involving a bug zapper and a hot tub, but one day, Baby would come out of the coma and spill the beans. Ultimately, you'd end up in prison and your cell mate would force you to take his last name.