Posts tagged writing

hardcore anxiety

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The title might be misleading, because I am not talking about anxiety on a ‘hardcore’ level.  That would become apparent without explanation, but I was compelled to use that title before thinking of how it would appear to have a different meaning than what I wanted to infer, simply because the story of why it exists would clear it up without this ‘disclaimer’ being used to clarify.

I found this unusual feeling of anxiety come over me just before posting the last clip on the store.  It is a hardcore clip, and I really like this one because I had been practicing some mental exercises to regain a much higher level of climax control.

It had been a long time since getting back in front of the camera myself, and the previous time, there was more time spent waiting for climax to chill the fuck out instead of doing some serious continuous porno style pounding.

I don’t have anxiety about getting in front of the camera, because in the end, I choose what to release and what not to release.  At the same time, I still ponder releasing content that shows me passing out drunk while trying to have sex with a ssbbw and she’s texting people on her phone.

I think that shit is awesome.  I find the reality sense of flawed work more interesting than something that looks plastic, fake, and magazine cut out.  I find it funny when I am failing in front of the camera as I look at it afterwards.  While in front of the camera, because I have been doing this for over a decade, I don’t feel anxiety at all about it.  I can’t, because if I were to let that creep in, I would have difficulty in maintaining erection AND controlling climax at the same time.

That is the worst too, because if there is ANY effort being put forth in order to maintain an erection, one has to continually skate the edge of climax.  If there is ANY issues going on with maintaining control of climax, you are just fucked, and not in a good way.

Just wanted to add some music, if it stays there, but this is a stable channel.  I almost laughed as I typed that.  I have had 8 youtube channels deleted because even though Candy was not nude in any of the clips, they were considered “obscene”, according to the standard terms of service note that let me know they were digitally murdering 8 of my fucking channels.

There is probably more anxiety about doing hardcore video on Candy’s side than mine.  I don’t have anxiety because again, I can just delete the clip, or distribute it for free somewhere as if it got “leaked”.  I use EVERYTHING though.  My first porno was on VHS tape, and I got it mail order by lying about my age by signing some bogus form, after saving up from mowing lawns to buy my first VCR just for this purpose.

The first porno was not edited at all.  There was a disembodied voice of a producer in the background telling them what to do.  There was also a lot of laughing and messing around that was probably supposed to be cut out.  Some guy literally paid a couple of people to fuck in front of a camera, then placed a tiny ad in the back of a porno, and sold this shit probably out of his house.

The actors in that first porno were not fat.  I wanted to see “porno” because I had been exposed to it “at a friend’s house” at probably the age of 14 or 15.  Once I got a taste, I had to keep watching it sooner or later.  I believe one of the first films I ever saw was “taboo”, but I can’t be sure if it was that movie, or if that was a preview that was shown before the cheesy crap that was being put out at that time.

I eventually tripped across fat porn by literally calling every 1 800 number associated with every porno ad in the back of every porno mag I could get my hands on.  Long before the internet, I was doing research by literally cold calling porn distributors asking them for fat porn.

Using that technique, I eventually came across a few fat porno tapes, but a lot of them were from Europe, because back in the 80’s, nobody thought of using fat models for porno until some creepy guy started calling all of them asking for fat porn.

I remember “wrinkles and ripples”, which was probably made in the UK, because there was no dialogue, only shitty music, but there was a scene where two guys walk into a building, and the architecture is unmistakably European, and early 80’s.  One or both of these 2 guys walking into a fat prostitute’s apartment were not circumcised either, which is a sure sign that they were not in America.

I am circumcised because it was forced on me, but I’ll take it, because a lot of women seem to prefer it.  I still don’t think it’s cool to just do it without permission from the male though.  People bitch about genital mutilation in Africa while they do this shit to every male born as a standard in the USA.  Anyway…

That first porn with fat women actually had old people too, hence, the “wrinkles” part of the title.  Back in the 80’s, they were combining fetishes in these combo tapes because nobody assumed that fat could stand on it’s own.  As the years passed, and we get into the 90’s, I remember going to a few adult book stores that were destined to be closed down by shitting fake religious Louisiana politics.  Those book stores actually took the leap and had a “fat section” that was separate from “weird and freak” type stuff.

I could almost feel relief that for once, the BDSM and D/S stuff was considered “freakier” than fat porn.  Maybe I wasn’t a total freak for being attracted to super sized women after all.  No, I am a fucking freak and a half.

So, there is zero anxiety about performing in the porn coming from me, but Candy might be concerned about having a complexion that exists in reality rather than having a magic wand that could photoshop her ass in real life.  I know that some of my work could be criticized because I don’t touch up complexion or use filters to hide shit.  I have always considered my work to be “real”, and then this shitty “reality television” crap came along.

It’s ironic that people don’t see the connection between the content I create and “reality tv”.  Maybe because my shit is “porn” so it can’t count as “reality”.  It’s really ironic because porn is about as real as people can get, when they know each other and have been doing this shit for over a decade.  When you toss 2 people in a room with a full crew and a producer yelling out instructions in between takes, I’m sure it’s not as real as my shit is.  The corporate stuff is so fucking *pretty* though, so it has it’s own following.  My shit is gritty, and sometimes literally ugly, and that’s what I like about it.

When I look around at fat porn, I am most drawn to the content that features more realistic models, with actual real life flaws, who act like real people.  Heavy duty faking is annoying, begging for cum and then reacting to it like it’s nuclear waste is annoying.  Two people acting really attracted to each other while they actually can’t stand each other is not going to translate very well with people who are “porn stars” and not “actors”.

My shit is real, flaws and all.  I almost think about it like some kind of perfectly balanced equation.  Nothing can be perfect.  If perfection was a requirement for existence we would not fucking be here.  It’s wild that as I get older, I start to see porn like MATH.  In fact, I am starting to see this entire reality being broken down into common denominators and simplified fractions.  It’s almost like how the characters in The Matrix were able to see what was going on from streams of numbers and characters across a screen.

When Candy is worried about a flaw or imperfection, I try to remind her, that she is thinking with her brain, and not my customer base’s collective brain.  When I saw imperfection, I feel some kind of common ground with people who are literally “out of my league”.  If a woman doesn’t have a perfect complexion, or she has some obvious flaw, it makes her more “real” in my eyes.

Imperfection doesn’t seem like a very real qualifying factor in making someone more attractive.  We generally see imperfection as something that takes away from perfection.  The real truth is, all “fat people” are already considered “flawed” based on their fat appearance.  Trying to make flawed fat perfect is something I wish I had a clever analogy for off the top of my head.  Maybe “lipstick on a pig”, but that might sound insulting and harsh.  Cliche is rarely friendly or politically correct while trying to convey a message of truth that few really want to hear or believe.

I can talk to her all I want about how she is just the perfect fulfillment of an equation that makes her known at all in a world of plastic people, but it won’t help.  She is working with her brain, her bias, her experience, her wisdom, her perception, and her reality.  As I get older we get along better because instead of being personally offended by some of her observations, I can appreciate just how different her perception can be from mine, as we both simultaneously experience the exact same reality, as 2 unique observers.

Every once in a while Candy will say “fuck it, let’s fuck in front of the cam”, and I am down, like setting lights up before she finishes the sentence.  I jump in there full throttle, so much so I might forget to take my socks off and look ridiculous.  It doesn’t matter, I leave it in there. 🙂

I love doing it.  I get a rush from fucking in front of the camera that brings me back to my “first time” long before Florida and Lexi from fatfantasy.net.  I remember spending long days in a back room repairing computers fantasizing about using one to make money instead of having to figure out complex computer issues all day every fucking day.

The first chance I get to express this desire to create fat content, it starts to take off, and then I figure out that I can’t co-exist with Lexi at that age, and that level of impulsive behavior not checked by a clear sense of consequence or long term planning.  I was “young, dumb, and full of cum” and I could not resist fucking exactly the woman I wasn’t supposed to exactly when I wasn’t supposed to exactly where I wasn’t supposed to.

I rebelled against Lexi’s control, because I was really in control of all that shit, and she was confined to a bed barking out orders and making unreasonable demands, and conning the fuck out of me the whole time.  I deserved it, I was young and stupid, I made promises I could not keep, and I could not resist opportunity when I had multiple bbws and ssbbws flirting with me and tempting me to step out now and then.

i walked away from Lexi and started all the way over from step one.  I worked for 3 years for someone else while I slowly accumulated new content and started from scratch.  I managed to pull it off though, and by 2002 I was working on version 2 of hotbbws.com because Lexi shut me down for using the Florida shit the first time.

Getting in front of the camera again was getting revenge on Lexi for taking all that content away from me.  I have seen content with me in it now and then, and it always reminds me of how I don’t have copies of that shit myself, because I was a fucking “nice guy” and didn’t just take all that fucking shit with me when I left.

I didn’t even take a camera.  I had to work for months to save up to buy my first fucking digital camera after leaving Florida because I was too fucking stupid to just take the shit that my credit paid for.

Ok, enough of that.  Maybe that conveys the passion and drive behind everything I did after I left Florida.  There can’t be anxiety about creating hardcore content within me because I literally get off creating it.

The reason for using the title hardcore anxiety is because of a feeling that sometimes comes over me at that last moment before I am about to post the content I have already created, edited, and uploaded.

I should be so anxious to get it out there I can’t stand it, but sometimes I actually procrastinate before taking the final steps of writing the description and hitting “add to store”.  Once I start writing the description, I am into it big time.  The last description I wrote was probably so weird that people might want to buy the clip just to see what the fuck I am talking about.

Once I start writing, something seems to just take over, like right now, as I check and see that I am rapidly approaching 2000 words and instead of wanting to stop, my fingers are moving faster and faster.  I can type up to 80 words per minute if I am in a good mood and not drunk, and when I start writing here, I may actually go higher than that.  I get the figure 80 from the last pre-employment typing test that I took, so that was an unbiased computer generated test with a result that I could only influence by actually typing really fucking fast on demand.

Writing the description soothes the mysterious anxiety that comes about just before adding the clip.  I love creating the content, I am excited while editing it, and I can’t wait to promote it.  At the same time, i started this follow back shit on twitter, so now I am about to post really inappropriate content still images to a bunch of people following me just to get a follow back.

I don’t have anxiety about losing followers on twitter, because every time I lose 10, I get 40 more at the same time.  I don’t even care about twitter itself so much, because it started out as an experiment to figure out how it works, and why people are so bat shit crazy about it.

I still don’t even use a smartphone, so I’m not seeing that shit constantly all day.  I didn’t log in at all yesterday, but I did take a moment to log into “tweepi” just to “flush” unfollowers and reciprocate new followers by following them back.

I have managed to make twitter so mathematical and impersonal, I may have actually defeated the entire purpose for it’s existence, except as a source of amusement now and then when I am already procrastinating.

So, I experimented myself right the fuck out of feeling good about promoting my shit.  At the same time, I have picked up so many fat, bbw, and ssbbw porn reposters that I could lose %90 of my followers and the remaining %10 were actually MORE IMPORTANT than all the rest.  Twitter is mathematically fascinating to me.

flush & add with tweepi

flush & add with tweepi

Yeah, it’s very impersonal when I can log into an app outside of twitter itself and do 69 clicks to resolve the imbalance between people I follow, and assholes who add me to get a follow back and then unfollow me like I don’t fucking know they did that.  I’m ready to start seeing repeated attempts to do this shit by familiar avatars.

I don’t even fucking care about twitter, but now it has turned into some kind of game for me, which is actually more exciting than World of Warcraft ever was.  It involves real people with fake avatars just like a MMORPG, but this is a different type of game, because it also involves gaining followers in a specific niche and working the fuck out of it.

So, it’s like the first “video game” I have come across that amuses me to the point of wanting to do it every few days, but at the same time, instead of collecting fictional “gold”, I am acquiring followers who will tend to repost my shit when I am putting out some awesome new SSBBW hardcore and I actually stopped procrastinating long enough to list it.

Hardcore anxiety in my situation is really minor, and it only takes place at the most perfect time, when all the hard work is done already.  This minor anxiety is something that I want to dig deeper into my own brain to figure out.  I have tried to attribute it to the PTSD left over from Candy’s previous departures.  I have wondered if I occasionally suffer from premature ejaculation for the same reason.  It’s like i want to shoot my load in her before she can take off again or something! 🙂

I still have climax control, but every once in a while, that shit sneaks up on me.  The time when I created the horse head mask hardcore video, the scenario of wearing a mask excited me unexpectedly to the point where I was struggling big time with climax control.  I still managed to pull it off, in a few different positions no less, but it was a constant struggle, believe me.

The next hardcore clip had more preparation and getting into position than it had hard sustained pounding.  Again, the fact that it had been so rare to create hardcore after all those feedee clips, contributed to difficulty in containing my excitement and my cum too.

I have found that having just a few beers, not getting loaded, but just barely buzzed, can help a great deal.  Of course, if you cross a line and go too far with alcohol, there is a potential for difficulty in maintaining erection too.  I can’t help but remember the song “Too Drunk To Fuck” by the Dead Kennedys.

I don’t resort to that though, because Candy doesn’t like to have sex with drunk people, and even if we have been together since Feb of 2002, if I am buzzed, I’m still “drunk people” in her perception, and I understand that.  I also don’t like to resort to the use of drugs in order to control aspects of my self, or my being.  When I use drugs for intoxication, I am exploring a part of myself that I can’t access while sober.  That is different.

So, without any enhancement from alcohol, or even Viagra, I have a damn good time in front of the camera.  The last video clip that featured hardcore was excellent.  I had Candy nearly trying to fake orgasm to get me to climax, because I was getting kind of rough on her, and going on a little longer than necessary for her sexual preference.  At the same time, I had finally done just enough hardcore video in just short enough increments that it just started to “come back to me” like “riding a bicycle”.

Even then, the evening that I could have posted the new clip I ended up getting drunk, and when I get intoxicated to a certain degree, I really don’t want to write because it is going to be so fucked up and make even less sense than I manage to make when I am fucking sober, like now.

So, hardcore anxiety is something I still deal with in that strange procrastination technique.  Even with that one evening delay, the next day, I was so eager to list that clip that I literally could not do anything else until it was complete.  Sometimes, the anxiety may just be a simple sense of timing.  Maybe posting it the night before was just a little too soon, because it had not even been a week since posting the last clip.

Maybe the hardcore anxiety is less related to the type of clip, but the fact that I literally can’t wait to list it, so I have to stop myself and hold out as long as possible before slamming that shit up!

Either way, that clip is up, and I am tempted to post another clip on the day that the hardcore clip would have been normally added on a once a week schedule.  I don’t want to exceed the once in a week schedule because I am literally concerned about making too much money to be eligible for medicaid, while I am carrying out that whole separate experiment.

Maybe the reason i was compelled to write and get to the bottom of this one thing was just to help me come to the conclusion that I just wrote.  One experiment is actually getting in the way of another.  Because I have lived with this cursed sense of irony, a part of me may actually be creating a concern about making “too much money” because that’s exactly what a part of me really wants.

What a first world problem to have though huh?  Maybe it’s because I need a hip replacement and I am very concerned about being made even more disabled than I am with a bad hip, so I have to maintain the low income to make a transition into disability much more convenient.

Maybe I am concerning myself with the possibility of being physically more fucked up and making too much money because a part of me has experienced something all through life where my low expectations generate a much more emphatic positive reaction when I was wrong about what “could happen”.

I worry about making too much money, and a part of myself realizes just how easy it is for me to make money, and I am left with a variable in an equation that involves future probability entangled with low expectations versus the motivation and drive to do “better than expected”.

More simplified, by worrying about making too much money, I am kind of guaranteeing myself that I will, just to fulfill some kind of passive aggressive inner conflict.

By worrying that some surgeon is going to fuck my hip up, I would be highly pleased at an outcome where I can still walk, and actually have less pain that I do now.

I know, that is a totally fucked up way to live, but then again, it’s the way that I have continually gotten everything I wanted, so much so, that I am left to worry about things that I can’t control, which I have to stop myself from dwelling on, so I can continue to control reality enough to get what I want out of it.

I have to actually concentrate to think of the next thing I “really want”.  Odds are, I am going to get it, but I hesitate in even granting focus to something I think I want, because of the possible unintended consequences that may go along with it.

At this age, at this point in my life, knowing what I know, I would never have fallen for the tricks that Lexi played to get everything.  At the same time, I don’t have the need to search for and find another Lexi, because as many times as I have lost her, I am still with Candy.

Maybe all of this helps me to work out the lingering PTSD involved with almost losing Candy repeatedly.  I know that I still have abandonment issues because of that, there is still some degree of insecurity because of it, and I never would have even attempted to carry out the kind of affair that I did last year if I wasn’t still suffering from some kind of residual emotional effect of her leaving both times.

Now I have caused a negative emotional impact on yet another innocent bystander because of the fickle nature of Candy’s whims.  I am not openly resentful about that, but a part of me has not let go of it fully.  I’m still bitching about Lexi and fatfantasy. net and that shit started in 1998 and ended in 2000.  That little 2 years of my life is still fucking with me.  It may be one of the main reasons that I am still creating hardcore content at all.

Another interesting thought comes from this stream of consciousness writing now.  As I begin to finally resolve feelings of resentment for Lexi, I start to lose focus of my motivation and drive to create hardcore content in the first place.

Now a part of me can perceive what I am doing externally, because of all the experimentation with alcohol and weed.  I can see this old guy who is desperately trying to hold on to some former position of glory, that can and will never be realized again.  Maybe that’s part of what would be an otherwise normal “mid life crisis”, except that the biggest thing I accomplished in my life besides what I do now is that fucked up, highly traumatic 2 years with Lexi.

I am letting go of all that, or I started to really let go of it when I heard of her passing just weeks after I destroyed all my physical copies of that work.  Irony strikes again.  The only person obsessed with keeping me from using that work dies just weeks after I destroy it so I don’t have to look at it myself.  Luckily I did save one cd full of photos out of 21 cds, and they were the ones that meant the most to me.

i can let go of the resentment for Lexi and still remained focus on creating what I truly love to create.  After all, how many women closing in on 500lbs do you see getting fucked and swallowing right now??? 🙂

ssbbw candy godiva swallows

ssbbw candy godiva swallows

Yeah, I am really lucky to have the drive and desire to create this content and have such a willing participant.  I don’t feel the loss of Lexi or that entire group anymore, because I have been guided by fate and destiny to be lucky enough to work with this super sized angel.

ssbbw candy godiva best oral in universe

ssbbw candy godiva best oral in universe

I managed to comb time and space in order to find one SSBBW that is not scared of cock or cum, and who loves doing this shit so much that if she is faking it is humorous instead of erotic.  The truth is, once cock gets involved, she is not faking one bit.

That’s what makes her shit so great.  I can see it when a woman is struggling to tolerate a situation, or has some kind of allergic reaction to cum after begging for it for 15 minutes.

I know that is harsh, and I realize that I could not possibly imagine what drives a woman who has such an adverse reaction to being cum on to do porn in the first place.  At the same time, the phrase “you had one job” comes to mind too.  I have had talks with Candy about this, and she points out that if it gets in your eye it burns, and I can accept that, but it doesn’t explain why some women will allow an actor to cum in her mouth and then literally gag even if she is going to spit it all out.

I never worked with a “real porn chick” before, because I am under the impression that I could not afford to hire them, and Candy would be somewhat intimidated to work with them, even in softcore “side by side” type modeling.  There is one model that lives right here in Vegas that Candy and I have talked about, and we would be more than willing to come up with a few hundred to hire her, just because of who she is, but Candy is still intimidated by her.

There have been a few other women who have offered to model for the same amount, but they are escorts and not really professional models, so I am hesitant to invest a nickel in them because of the nature of being an escort in and of itself.  From what I have heard, some of them are really good at word play to the point where a guy is paying them to feed them and just hang out without even going all the way.  If an escort works to create that kind of scenario in a non modeling situation, I imagine that they would be hard to work with as they try to “let the clock run out” while doing the bare minimum and not really putting their heart into the modeling itself.

I could be wrong, an escort could be an excellent model, I just wouldn’t know, because I’m not spending $300 to find out!  It’s hard for me to justify spending that kind of money to hire a model, when Candy appearing by herself is guaranteed to bring in something.  I get the feeling that paying someone $300 to model next to her would never bring in that much more than a video clip of her by herself.

I’ve stopped asking around about modeling now, because it’s not really my place to do that.  It’s up to Candy, because she is the one who has to stand, sit, or lay next to this person.  Candy may not even be prepared to do that with another model at this point, so I am leaving it up to her if another model ever appears with her again.  The last time one did, it was 2009, we were in Baton Rouge, and the woman didn’t want to get paid because she wanted “shared content”.

Here in Vegas, finding an established model that wants to do shared content with Candy is not as easy as you might think.  I think everybody here wants to get paid, for anything, and I can’t blame them.  At the same time, I see these group photo shoots and I know that each woman probably wasn’t paid individually, because they all have websites, and they could all use that as shared content.  In a big group there isn’t usually anything sexual going on, just 3 to 5 big women hanging out while posing next to each other.

Candy hasn’t ended up in that situation, because she has not worked to create that situation.  If she had any interest in going out to “bbw parties” and stuff like that, she would meet women there that do this kind of thing all the time.  Candy has had a bit of social anxiety though, so without making a grand appearance at a bar somewhere, these other women will never meet her in public, and in the past 3 years, they have not made any effort to come to her.

I don’t really care anymore if I get to work with anyone else now, ever.  I had a mild curiosity when I saw a few Vegas bbw models posing together, but then I realized, being a full time model is not even Candy’s “job”.  She volunteers to do this for me.  I am just lucky enough to be around when she is going on a food splurge, and she doesn’t mind me pointing a camera at her while she is binge eating.

I am also very lucky that Candy is ok with me bringing a camera into our sex life, because I don’t think there are very many SSBBWs at her size doing the sexually explicit type of content that I am creating.  If there are, I just haven’t found them because I’m so busy making my own porn that I have lost interest in looking around at everyone else’s.

I can’t believe that as long as this post was already, I came back and added more to it.  I guess I was thinking that I was too harsh to end this post with that statement about how unusual it is for a woman to take a job where she is begging to be cum on for 15 minutes and then suddenly has an involuntary spasm of disgust once she finally gets what she asks for.  Why work in porn if you hate cum? 🙂

mr hyde

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now, i am buzzed.  i am coming back because after a really full day of activity, i realize how much the earlier writing exercise helped me.  i was given a little time on my own upon waking, and the thoughts were racing about everything i had experience during the last episode of online activity that literally had me concerned.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dr._Jekyll_and_Mr._Hyde_(1931_film)

i was trying to restrict the use of links to outside sites while typing, but this is the reference to the title, for those who are culturally challenged when it comes to real cinema versus hollywood movies.

i realize that while my behavior in this one little forum was really inexcusable, unprofessional, irrational, and made me look like a crazy person, it had some kind of purpose.  a part of me tries so hard to recover memories from dreams every night, but during the day, i can only collect scraps of memory that were lost for a few hours because of the drunken condition i was in the night before.

i believe that my little experiment with alcohol needs to come to an end, eventually.  candy has left as a direct result of my use of alcohol, before she realized that it was a trigger that caused her to be a total bitch, and both of us were not totally aware of it at the time.

i have wondered if there is some correlation between her inability to control that impulse, and my own inability to control my alcohol intake when i am facing an extremely painful situation.  i don’t mean emotional pain, i mean physical pain, that i don’t choose to inflict on myself, but is inflicted upon me by my prior abuse of my entire left side.

one should not need a hip replacement before the age of fifty, but here we are.  i could get all kinds of pills, but i don’t even try, because i know that it is a road that goes somewhere i don’t want to go.  it is extremely ironic that someone who admits to being an alcoholic has severe hesitation in even trying to get serious drugs.

if anything, alcohol was a very risky experiment on it’s own.  i have to pull myself out of some compulsion to keep drinking when i decided to start writing this.  or, i was so unnerved by my own behavior recently that i had to take a look inside for a moment with my writing.

i know i was wrong.  i know i was irrational.  i know i was insensitive, and completely out of control.  a part of me seems to know that i was going to go there, and allowed it, which means that i still take responsibility as the more sane partner in this strange inner struggle with just one chemical.

i only started using alcohol on a regular basis shortly after turning 40.  i’m 46 now, so this is year six.  while some alcoholics count out how much time they have been sober, i am counting down how long it will take for me to be able to consume this one chemical without being a slave to it.

rather than abstinence, a part of me knows that i can control it, but unfortunately, i have to go through some kind of period of complete upheaval, much like “rock bottom” but without homelessness and bankruptcy. 🙂

i guess there are advantages to being a fully functional drug addict.  i choose not to get on the pills, for good reason.  i can’t just walk into a store and buy pills.  if i could walk into a store to buy weed, i would not have started fucking drinking to begin with.

i started to experiment with alcohol because of this horrible episode with my best friend and weed dealer.  he got on crack and/or meth, and he started to orchestrate my weed deals with his crack buys.  i don’t think he will ever understand how much it influenced me when his wife threatened to call the cops on us while i just bought an ounce of weed in freaking louisiana…

i stopped talking to that guy, the best friend from high school, because i had such built up resentment for his disrespect and his lack of consideration.  he started to use this beer can crack pipe in my car after i told him not to smoke crack in my car.  he doesn’t understand the seriousness of that offense.

just because i’m a pot head, doesn’t mean i can tolerate a crack head.  he used to keep one of his wife’s name tags on him to stab holes in the side of a beer can after denting it.  then, he would place a few cigarette ashes over the holes, and carefully place his precious fucking crack on them, and smoke it through the hole you would drink through.

that shit is pathetic, and intolerable.  what’s worse is the way he would act after smoking crack.  he would be all paranoid and start turning the lights on and off, and then looking out the window over and over.  i hated it, and told him he was doing it, but he was oblivious.

now, i realize that the moment i allowed mr hyde to get out there and log in, even in some obscure, dying forum, i was out of control.  i am grateful to all those people for helping me to realize and understand, through totally predictable behavior, that i was out of control.

it’s wild when you can do an intervention on your own damn self.

today i typed over 3000 words in this blog, and then i added a clip to the clip stores that had already been prepared days earlier.  then, i went to big wonderful wal mart and did grocery shopping.  then, i came home, had a few beers because i was still sore from the rains days ago, and got online.  rather than going all manic crazy person on some forum, i came here.

i felt compelled to point out some things that i had learned about my own behavior.  if i ever allow myself to get drunk to a certain degree, and then go into forums where i already have issues with people, it is a catastrophe waiting to happen, and i should try much harder than i have recently to prevent that from happening.

i learned some kind of fucked up coping mechanism when candy was gone for eight months, and i learned to lash out online to help myself release all kinds of negative energy.  i used to only do it on facebook, but this one little tiny forum seemed ok to fuck around with, and somehow, a part of me let drunk me go in there and go fucking crazy.

now, i realize the value of that experience.  i still feel badly for anyone who might have taken anything really personally, but i am pretty sure they just wrote me off as that crazy alcoholic mean guy.  i think that’s what some part of me meant to allow to happen all along, to snap myself out of some tendency to focus on one tiny spot online like some kind of magnifying glass and burn a big hole there, in some scorched earth policy that makes me look like some kind of monster.  mr hyde is a fucking monster, and on those few occasions i am allowed to see it for myself, i realize the degree of severity as to how much i am losing the battle with alcohol.

i am willing to admit it, but i have other alternative coping mechanisms, like writing.  i can’t even fucking read straight while drunk, but somehow i can manage to type.  that shit is scary.

there was a time when i stopped smoking weed completely, and started substituting vodka.  candy doesn’t remember it, because it was before she got on lexapro and ended up in virginia.  there was at least a six month period where i totally stopped smoking weed after nearly twenty years of consecutive use every day.

i continued to watch candy smoke it, and i continued to purchase it, but for that period of time, because i wasn’t smoking, i didn’t have to pick it up as often, and i didn’t have to deal with my wonderful crack smoking best friend, and i didn’t have to worry about some kind of domestic dispute that was launched because i tipped my friend enough money for him to buy and consume crack.

somehow, time passed, and eventually, candy took off for that first period.  candy has left for a four month period and then an eight month period.  she was fortunate enough to receive counseling to help her see her triggers, and therefore, she was mature enough to create a compromise to deal with my temporary use of alcohol.

even if it seems like a long period of time, six years is nothing when compared to 46.  i allowed myself to dip into this little interest after years of hating alcohol, because i realized how much that industry probably lobbied against marijuana legalization.

there are so many industries, to take a little side trip, that will want to prevent this.  first there are police unions.  i am not attempting to be racist here, but there is no better way to incarcerate more african americans than to bust them with some weed, and i continue to wonder how that racist prohibition continues to this day.  i have read text that indicates it was more suited to lock up the mexicans at first, but it worked so well with the african americans that they said “what the hell?”

then of course there are corrections unions.  all the people that make a living keeping all those locked up “animals” under control.  you know they don’t want to let anybody out any time soon.

then there are the investors that continue to maintain and build new private prisons.  free enterprise and capitalism lead to some kind of inspiration to continue to be the incarceration capital of the world.  if you break down the actual incarcerated population, you would find racial disparities that make me think people have ample reason to protest in furgeson.  i begin to want to compare the naacp to naafa in effectiveness, political agenda, and main focus.

maybe the recent investigation into that little police department was just a small step in many other changes that really, seriously need to take place in the future.

wow, it was so easy for me to be distracted.  so much injustice in the world, that so many people find so easy to ignore.  there is a little tiny track in the back of my mind that keeps track of shit like that, and maybe i should cut it loose so i don’t get so pissed off in forums that do not have anything to do with my own personal issues and aggravations.

bringing up how many times and how long candy left is relevant.  without professional therapy to deal with those events, and my behavior during, i am pretty much forced to seriously analyze myself when i pull something fucked up.  at least i am not getting locked up in the process.  if i do have “abusive tendencies”, i still seem to have some ability to redirect them in the least destructive way possible.

while my “social reputation” could be damaged by such outbursts, this forum is so obscure that nobody will see any of it anyway.  even if the moderator of the forum where i went off decided not to delete some of my horrible rant, i am willing to bet that the forum may be more active than it has ever been because of my participation, even if they are talking shit about me.

unlike so many sociopaths, i rather seem to enjoy gossip about me that i can’t see.  i don’t have any other means to express some kind of narcissistic megalomaniac personality, so i can achieve a level online that i really would not prefer to attempt in person.

i don’t think i am sociopathic, i think those guys are the ones that look like mr perfect until they get you alone and then use intimidation to keep you from “going to the cops”.

i tend to go totally crazy online every once in a while, then feel badly about it for a day or two, and then analyze the fuck out of myself for allowing myself to log in at all while that intoxicated.  it’s one thing to watch that television show “cops” and wonder why drunk people actually attempt to fight several cops at once.  i think there is a correlation between a virtual environment and that real life environment.

i think that if i am a troll down deep, i do it as “myself” instead of being anonymous.  one would assume that while i am using an identity that is readily available in other locations, i am taking a big public relations hit every time i pull this crazy shit.  in reality, i am just remaining relevant for just about the only thing besides candy that has ever made anybody ever notice me.

wow, the anatomy of a troll.  i don’t want to be a troll.  i am a good person.  i am really nice to people in real life.  i give people a lot of leeway in traffic, and i don’t have road rage.  i am so very patient with candy that most people could not even imagine, even when she is not in a good mood and totally goes off for almost no reason without being as drunk as i am when i do it.

at the same time, i have this ability to be really, really mean.  i can use minimal observations to create the most insulting or passive aggressive statements, and the worst part is, i am not even trying.  it just comes out.  it’s one thing if i was having to focus to be so mean, but it’s so fucking easy.  it comes to naturally to me that it scares me at times, and it should, if i want to be a better person over all.

i have to wonder if i have made it to age 46 with so many issues without being arrested or going suicide by cop because i have this ability to express my negativity in a relatively controlled environment.  even while totally intoxicated, i know the difference between being highly insulting and making terrorist threats…  i just don’t do that shit.  i came close to doing it at my very worst, when candy was gone, and i regret being that fucking creepy to this day.  those events contributed to the creation of a drunken character that i am forced to understand is just an extension of myself, down deep, and i don’t like it.

while candy was gone for eight months the last time, i went through an extraordinary transformation.  i had never been mean online, i would never imagine cursing people out, or making broad accusations, or calling people out for being fucking liars.

something happened when candy was gone, it probably started in the first four months while she was in virginia, and then when she want to boston, i experienced a total recurring nightmare.  candy has informed me on more than one occasion that i could have gotten her back much more quickly, but a part of me was trying so hard to let her go because she left for the second time.

i don’t think i have gotten over that period of time in it’s entirety just yet.  i think that there are lingering resentments, and while i used to be obnoxious and mean online to cope with her rejection, there is still a part of me that resorts to this behavior, and now that part of me is taking innocent online victims in the process.  my behavior in that forum is reprehensible, and i know it.  i understand though that i needed to go through that, and put other people through it in the process, in some selfish attempt to figure my own shit out.

while i would feel really bad for “using” people in some online forum to achieve this end, i also have to remind myself that they are a bunch of selfish, deviant, agenda driven motherfuckers who don’t give two shits about what i did, or who i am, or what it was all about.

maybe i needed to finally cultivate a selfish side too.  i was always too forgiving, to accommodating, too selfless.  i may have been the nice guy for so many years, even over a few decades, but i guess eventually it fucking wears off.  it’s ironic, how many women would like a nice guy, but they will tend to reject them over and over without even realizing it, because they are awkward, and don’t know how to look like mr right.  the guy who knows exactly what to say is the one you need to worry about.

while i used to be really nice, there has been some obvious modifications, because while i was still working through unresolved feelings of candy rejecting me in the past, some bitch came along and took me for nearly $300 and trashed a hotel room that i was nice enough to get for her while she was here.  being nice can get you fucked in the ass, and now i wonder if it’s all about candy’s past rejection, or the way that people have been fucking me over all my life, and continue to fuck me over to this day, and i am just not fucking taking it anymore.

my focus and fixation on this one little forum was just as potent and relentless as my participation here right now in this blog.  this leads me to believe that i wanted to type and type somewhere and be reminded about how i am typing in the wrong place, to a bunch of fuck heads who could never begin to understand it, even if they were offered the entire back story of this blog itself, because they don’t really fucking care.

every once in a while, you run into someone who sincerely cares.  they care enough not to offer unsolicited advice, or tell you where to go to find some social interaction that you have already said you are not interested in.  somewhere, buried in time and space, is our personal audience.  i have this image of the future, and i have no idea how to make it happen just yet, but because i can visualize it, i know it is inevitable.

i am motivated by my dreams, because when i was in high school, i had a recurring nightmare about having to repeat a year of high school.  i got busted with a joint in a cigarette pack right in my front pocket and was suspended.  i received the call from the school board, set up a hearing as my father, and never told them, so nobody showed up.

because of the traumatic way that the school administrators reached out to my parents, they had no interest in attending any hearing to be further humiliated.  i am reminded though, with the wisdom i have now, that it was wrong for them to confront me without legal counsel and try to bargain with me to rat someone out to save my school year.

i chose to repeat an entire year of high school instead of being a fucking rat.  maybe that was the beginning of a process that created so much real world experience that i would end up a hermit troll, making big statements online because i can no longer be partying it up when i have to take care of the one person in this reality that means more to me than my own life.

i had this anorexic looking undercover cop attempt to seduce me, to bust the best friend that i would later abandon because he smoked crack in my car against my wishes.

i found the love of my life, and told her that i would give up an open relationship because i had finally found the woman that could make me forget all others, and then she left me, twice.

i take responsibility for my part in all of this, because i was trying to do the right thing for the future, and for her, and it blew up in my face.  i can understand so much better why i would go to some obscure forum, attempt to befriend people, and then go the fuck off on them when they disappointed me exactly the way that i predicted they would.

a part of me knew candy would leave, both times.  i refused to acknowledge it, and continued to test her, because she tested me.  we were stuck in this loop of daring each other to just break up and get it over with.  we were miserable, but we loved each other more than anyone else in each other’s lives.  what a tragedy.

it’s no wonder we end up together now.  candy had to forsake all kinds of new, wonderful friends, because as much as most of them said they understood, they really don’t, and they never will.  they never really knew her, like i know her.  they will never know me, like she knows me.

i have given most of them every reason to hate me for the rest of my life, and the only one that really matters has attempted to let me know on so many occasions that she forgives me.  it is really beyond my own belief, how she could tolerate so much shit, from someone so currently insignificant, and still forgive me.  she is the closest thing to jesus i have ever known in this lifetime, in my 46 years.

i realize that i had to “blow up” again, just one more time, to teach myself a lesson.  i’m buzzed now, but i refuse to enter that state again after seeing for myself what i can do under it’s influence.  i am not worried about damage to “reputation”, because i am notorious for being such an amazing, incredible dick head.

i have had a busy day.  i can feel the energy draining as i have produced all of this potentially meaningless and incoherent text.  i have actually put up a new clip today, along with the shopping, and i should promote it, but that kind of takes care of itself when you open up to four different clip stores, all hungry.

i have created more work in the last few months than i have in the last few years.  candy has been so cooperative, that one might think that nearly breaking up that last and final third time opened both our fucking eyes.  i know i can’t get so fucked up.  i have somehow restrained myself today, because it is after midnight and i could not even finish the sixth beer.  that is a move in the right direction.

all of this focus on this blog at this time is not due to my interaction with the forum recently.  i believe that the opposite is true.  i needed to create that distraction there, in order for me to realize that i needed to redirect my writing back here.

now, i create photos and videos as a ‘job’ and i can release excess energy in my writing instead of bugging candy or any useless forum with my manic rambling.  i can redirect it here and get “writing practice” too, and it isn’t wasted on emails to empty vessels or groups with endless agendas…  it is all mine… 🙂

 

 

forced addiction transfer or FAT

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It has been quite a while…  Even now, I want to do something else, so maybe for once, I can keep it short and sweet…

I have been drifting off into never land with all my wild thoughts and potentially irrational assumptions for a long time.  I have decided that I may have to return to this activity, even if a part of me wonders what it is all about after I have created hundreds of posts that are tens of thousands of words long, and then delete all of it and start over again…

A part of ‘this place’ is going to be about ‘me’, and another part of it is going to be some serious shit that I seem to come up with involuntarily and almost compulsively bombard Candy with to the point where she literally has a head ache…  I need to put it here, and stop giving Candy migraines…  And, stop bugging people on the face book… 🙂

I have had a ‘bug up my ass’ for a very long time about the ‘weight loss surgery’.  I have read extensively, comprehended partially, and asserted my opinions rather randomly, for a long, long time now…  None of it seemed to really make much sense probably, and I was too lazy to even go back and re read any of it myself.  I am sure I would find some of it brilliant, some of it stupid, and some of it just drunk rambling nonsense…  None of that matters now, because it is gone… All of it… Maybe a part of me thought it was such shit that I had to start over.  I believe a prior post addressed the possibility that I created it all just to delete it years later and confuse the fuck out of anyone who even noticed any of it was going on at all…

I have googled the term “forced addiction transfer”, and I welcome you to do the same.  It is ironic, at least to me, that as I google this term, I am ‘obesity biased’ because of my prior experience and rather confusing sexual fixation on super morbidly obese human females.  It should have come as no surprise that as I attempt some feeble research on the seemingly random string of words, I find several references to weight loss surgery.

I thought for a second I might be re-inventing the wheel, and I would have found some result, somewhere in that very first page, where those words were strung together, and google would even provide a convenient bold type on those words and a short paragraph before and after them.  As it turns out, that wasn’t the case.  Maybe if I dug just a little deeper before bragging about my discovery on face book, I could have found other connections to this phenomenon that have been very well documented and carefully considered in some random ‘fat blog’ somewhere on the internets…

I saw ‘junk food science’ come up, of course, a professionally written, beautiful in all of it’s effort and eloquent in the writer’s style and thorough investigation.  Of course that writer would dive into this topic, because they are such a logical match of psychological phenomenon.  My own issues with self discipline, self control, addiction, and compulsive behavior would help me to understand more about what the words “addiction transfer” actually mean, from a very real perspective of experience and pain.

I may have written about and deleted previously issues that I developed when I became worried about the legal liability of using one drug and subsequently switched over to a more legally acceptable one.  This would have pleased ‘society’, but unfortunately, the woman that I consciously or sub-consciously choose to love would not be able to handle this change on a deep emotional level.  Her prior experience with users of this legally accepted alternative caused her great emotional distress, up to and maybe beyond what one would call “PTSD”.   What was worse than her having this condition was her own lack of understanding of it.  If she could not get to the bottom of what was making her such a bitch, all I could do was evolve, adapt, and attempt to compromise.

There could be no compromise between two people who both refused to give up their ‘drug of choice’ just because it was emotionally inconvenient for both of them…  This caused much greater pain and tragedy for both parties, and I acted out in ways that I have not experienced for over a decade when I felt someone ripped me off and stole my money, my credit, and my very “artwork” for a year’s time.  Of course, later I would realize that all of that mess was my own fault because of my bad decisions and young dumb judgement…  I paid, I learned, I matured, I moved on.

One day while watching Dr. Phil of all people (it’s almost painful to even type it), I saw him say that you can’t break a bad habit, you can only replace it with a constructive activity.  The way I interpreted that was, the ability to switch over from one bad compulsion to another bad compulsion is “addiction transfer”.  Switching over from one negative compulsion to a “good” one is thought to be “breaking a bad habit”.  It is painfully, blatantly obvious that in order to really solve all those issues entirely would be to figure out exactly what about the human mind causes some people to be more compulsive than others, and then, how do we specifically address compulsive behavior and “addiction” without being clouded by greed and a desire to mold the media’s message in a way that we create a “rehab society”.  Rehab from sex addiction, rehab from drugs, rehab from behaving badly.

It troubles me to know, deep down, that this rehab society has turned to the “dark side” where obesity and the compulsion of over eating is involved.  I realize that there is so much more money to be made so much faster by cutting someone open rather than digging into their mind.  It is also painfully obvious to me that the total lack of interest in digging into the ‘obese mind’ is due to the fast cash to be made by desperate people who are willing to have perfectly healthy organs cut out and altered in order to control behavior.

In my personal experience, as I sit and type this, I am stopping myself from wasting time entirely by playing a long, complex, and involved video game.  When I decide to sit in that game, I am stopping myself from bombarding some useless and pointless face book page with random thoughts.  When I am particularly distressed, this behavior can even begin to creep onto others with emails and little posts on this or that “thread” of conversation that I am not really invited to join.  In doing all of that, I would also inadvertently be avoiding the thought of drinking alcohol, because I seem to really enjoy getting intoxicated on alcohol just past the point where my partner is comfortable.  The ‘compulsive’ aspect of my behavior is simply that I won’t restrict myself from it’s use entirely, but when I do allow myself to have it, I know there is a certain point within a certain level of intoxication where I will want to consume more than I set out to before I started drinking to begin with.

Candy would argue this makes me “alcoholic”, and I could agree that this is a problem.  At this same time, I am not physically dependent on alcohol because of several reasons.  It is not my “drug of choice” to begin with.  It is a drug that I turned to in an effort to use “addiction transfer” in a positive way to reduce the legal liability of using my real drug of choice, which is a plant, which is a true tragedy in and of itself considering that it is not physically addictive.  I do not have a “craving” for alcohol when I do not have it in my possession, but when I do get it, I tend to get enough so that I will have two “doses”.  The internal test once I have it is if I can stop myself when under it’s influence from digging into that second day’s worth, eliminating the second day’s total potential effect, and therefore, taking the second potential day of it’s use away from myself in the process of violating a rule I made for myself while sober.

I realize that this is very similar to the way that Candy gets chinese take out.  She would typically buy enough to have two day’s worth.  The problem is, she would actually consider having two huge servings on the first day, and maybe just a little left over for a second day.  Candy can’t get the same “rush” on a subsequent day because she will always consume more than half on the first day.  While she makes the accusatory assumption that I am just “an alcoholic”, she is engaging in the very same behavior, and over time, this behavior would contribute to her potential immobility, and shortened mortality.

When considering “addiction transfer”, and my own ability to guide my compulsive behaviors into activities that could be more constructive, positive, and beneficial for my own future, I have to consider that my addiction transfer “technique” is voluntary.  When I consider just how many things I have turned to in order to satisfy some compulsive behavior to do something “too much”, I realize that there is no one substance or activity that could “be enough” to ever really solve the appetite of the compulsive mind.  The simple realization of this helps me to guide that energy towards areas of my life that need improvement, and obviously self discovery.

In a way, I realize that my recent use of the phrase “automatic addiction transfer” seemed to switch on a light, and give me ideas about how “rehab tech” has remained the same forever without having to evolve for the changing marketplace of “brand new addictions” coming along left and right.  Abstinence is the only conclusion by a rehab society in a phase of our history where obesity is the new “moral panic” for whatever reason, and the media creates more and more obesity hysteria as they cash in on advertising products meant to “help”.  All the while they ignore one inconvenient pathological factor to obesity, ad 36. The “fat virus” that you never hear about on the news as you hear people rant about obesity on a daily or weekly basis.  That is another post entirely, but it kind of fits in, as I am already tempted to wrap this up, but realize it is way too in depth to cover “right now”.

I am lucky that I was able to fight any form of compulsive eating behavior from an early age.  I was “chubby” when I was a kid, but I started working from the month that I turned old enough to work, and that amount of activity and a few small changes helped me to reach what would be considered an “average” weight.  There were several motivating factors for this, the very first would be “girls”.  Because I realized at an early age I was attracted to women who are “larger” to say the least, I felt that I should make myself as physically appealing as possible in order to increase my probability of successfully meeting and of course fucking some really big fat chicks in my life.

Until I reached a certain emotional plateau, I didn’t realize that my super fat sexual conquests were actually compulsive behavior as well.  Even through three marriages, I never met someone that I could really place a deep emotional attachment on until I was in my 30’s.  Once that emotional attachment took place, I could voluntarily become monogamous even though I had the option to remain in an “open relationship” like some old creepy “swingers”.

I just didn’t want it anymore.  I didn’t enjoy searching for, flirting with, seducing, fucking, and filming other women anymore.  Once there was a real emotional connection to someone I had never felt, everything changed.  I would still be afflicted with other compulsive behaviors, but screwing any big giant fat woman who let me would no longer be one of them.  I believe that was a form of “automatic addiction transfer”, because I went from one compulsion to fuck all kinds of fat women and film it all to put on my website, to a much darker, much more difficult, and much more emotionally tedious and impossible task of really pleasing just one woman.

When I came up with the idea of “Forced Addiction Transfer”, or FAT, it was out of frustration and the great sense of pain I feel when I realize that people who modify their otherwise healthy, working, cancer free internal organs in order to change just one compulsive behavior are being used as test subjects in order to embrace forced addiction transfer as a viable way of extracting money from obese people.  Notice I did not say “as a viable way of curing obesity”, because the cure for all obesity is in the head, not in the gut.  People who dig in our heads are very expensive though, and they take a long, long time.  Bariatric surgery is so much cheaper in the long run, yet it obviously has greater profit potential up front.  Surgery is to make money, not to cure obesity.

Surgery creates what I believe is an inhumane psychological condition of forced addition transfer, or FAT.  This is why it is so well documented that many post surgicals become alcoholics, or drug users.  Without addressing the underlying causes of compulsive behavior, it appears to me, an uneducated “sexual dimorphist”, that initiating forced addiction transfer through any surgery that restricts natural ability to “eat” is simply piling on.  This creates an even more intense need to fulfill the compulsive behavior through another avenue.  The choice will probably be made early, in the first few weeks of adapting to having a compulsive behavior that cannot be fulfilled without greater pain, misery, suffering, complications, and maybe even death.

This is why in my opinion, any surgery to address compulsive behavior is going to have horrible long term effects.  These effects will not simply be felt by the ones who have had the surgery alone.  The singular decision to have surgery will effect everyone connected to the individual, because all acquaintances will be forced to adapt along with the individual to this cruel experimental rehab technique.  We live in a rehab society that survives through it’s consistent message of abstinence.  By selling people surgery as a “cure”, we are telling them that they are beyond all hope of psychological help in addressing their underlying compulsive behaviors.  Because they are both the perpetrator and the victim, they must be punished, even if it means executing the cruelest possible punishment on one’s self.

If the entire rehab model works on abstinence, it is particularly cruel from my perspective to encourage people to become “surgical anorexics”.  While I watch media, I pay particular attention to those who attempt to discourage anorexia with a straight face.  If we live in an abstinence based rehab model society, then we must encourage the super morbidly obese to become anorexic to “fix them”, even if it means forcing them to become anorexic through surgery.  I don’t know about “most people”, but I think all of this is sick.  I have to hope that my own obesity bias doesn’t contribute to a feeling that I was more right than I ever wanted to be when I saw this strategy as “shrink’em or kill’em”.

I have been typing the words “obesity conspiracy” a few times on face book here and there as well.  While that is a topic that could not possibly be covered in just one post, I would like to associate this one issue with that larger “system”.  While it is easy to dismiss anyone who hypothesizes the existence of any alleged conspiracy as a complete nut bag, there is so much data to suggest that “something is going on behind the scenes”, that it is almost impossible to ignore.  It goes a lot deeper than medical device manufacturers that made a whole lot of quick cash and now want to sell the obesity division because the profits are down after this “low mortality rate” surgery started killing people one after another in Los Angeles a few years back.  I’m sure they would not mind dumping the division before all the class action suits come in as well.  After a few more years passes, they will.

Forced Addiction Transfer theory is very real, and it started from the minute some surgeon figured out that he could cut out some guts, make some cash, and the “patient” or “test subject” would lose weight.  For as long as this type of human vivisection has existed, studies to figure out what happens up to five years after having surgery were only just recently released.  The results were not quite as “cure” as the medical community wanted, and that is why you have seen the effort to sell surgery toned down considerably.  It still exists, but now it is limited to those who can “pay up front” and those who are not paying at all.  The ones who are not paying at all have much higher rates of complications and death, because this is just the excuse a doctor needs to eliminate one more social security recipient.  Sad, crazy sounding, and hopefully for all of us, Not true at all…

 

 

 

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