Birthday Surprise ruined By beetus Monster Hi there FPH. I've seen this board before once, after a fat incident, but never have been the type. I showed my delightful little Missy (who for reasons which shall become apparent, I will never refer to as my Shitlady) this page and she said it might be good to share. Yes the TLDR is a tale of Deadpool, cosplay, poo, police, hospitalization. Feel free to #thathappened me. I lived the shit, and I don't believe me. Seriously, ask me. I'll tell you. I don't believe this fucking shit. Firstly, I decided to come about because I saw a post which reminded me of a place I have been. It seemed to come from someone somewhat depressed, and I wished to try to help. Not that I see myself as superior in some fashion as puts me in such a position to do it, but just that I could try, and well, if I suck or something, I'm sure you'll tell me. A few years ago, I was out of the dating game. OUT out. I work from home, and got so I barely left but for the gym, grocery and... well, that was it. I was lonely. Dates arranged by "friends" with girls who "had great personalities YAY!" or from online led to fat. After fat. After fat. So I was sad. I drank. And there were pills. My temperament toward numbing myself was as that of the obese to food. I became what I hate, and well, vicious cycle and that. Sorry to go all Goddy on you, but he saw fit to put a angel in my life. I got to hate hating myself enough that I got to not going out to the gym more because having all the stuff at home. But still did some days. And one day she just up and said, "Hi, I'm Missy. Can you show me how to use that?" Pointed at my bar I was using to dead lift.  My default position is annoyed. Sure, weigh what you should. Smokescreen. You'll get fat. You all do. Murica. I am by this point of my day about halfaway through my daily allotment of scotch (I practiced moderation! Only one fifth a day!) and not having it. But w/e. The owners tolerate me.  Unlike last place I get kicked out of. I'll be nice. Ish. But she kept at me. Don't know what she saw. I ask her and she just smiles and says, "I saw YOU silly!" I write this because I was gun on the table drunk and high every night, never coming up with a reason but that I was a pussy. Cue another shot until I wake up crooked half on the couch, repeat. I'm not saying just wait to get lucky. I got lucky, and I wish it to everyone, but I should have worked at it. I should have earned it. I didn't. Doesn't change the fact that the luck is out there. If you feel lonely, there is no hope, and it looks bad because all you see is our species killing itself with the beetus, there is hope. Anyhow, I saw something that looked like some people were reaching out, and I never had the sense to but got lucky with someone reaching to me which has led to my having the best fiancee a guy could hope for. So I thought I'd pay it forward to God, science, the universe or Allah or whatever you believe in and try to do a good. I hope I make sense. I just want anyone who thinks there's no hope to know that there is, and maybe you get lucky, or maybe you shitlord up and go make your own luck. I wasn't good enough for the second, but I got lucky anyway. I hope for anyone who feels bad about how things are with the fat epidemic to know that if it could happen to a drunk pill popping asshole like me, it could happen to any of you who has the discipline to already be better than that.