To preface this, i had the traditional duodenal switch on 3/27/24 at Orlando health with Dr. T. Surgery date- i was at 395. A week after i was 382. A week after that i was 366. This was around 4/13. I stayed fluctuating a this weight for over a week so to put my mind at ease, i stopped weighing myself until today. Just got done mentally breaking down.
374… the scale said 374. I know about stalls, I know about the weight fluctuating maybe by a couple of pounds here and there but almost 10 pounds? I’ve seen articles of people saying that they’re gaining weight on this journey and I would always think to myself “ yeah they’re definitely not doing something right? Because how do you gain weight after getting weight loss surgery?”-—and yet here i am.
And before you say, you should reach out to your care team/doctor, I definitely did just now. I just have to wait for a response within 48 hours unfortunately.
Literally can’t make sense of this. Last week was the first full week in which I was getting my minimum of 80 g of protein daily. As for many of us, eating is in chore now so for a while I was not getting the required nutrients needed for this lifestyle. With this being the most aggressive form of weight loss surgery due to the malabsorption, how is this possible? My carbs are at a minimum that my plan allows, no sugar, no liquid calories unless it’s a protein shake. I’m finally hitting my 64 ounces of liquid a day. I wouldn’t say that I’m extremely active and lifting weights every single day, but I do go for a walk.
With this procedure causing one to naturally go on extreme calorie deficit and not absorb much of the nutrients from the food on top of that, is this normal at all? Did the surgery just somehow not work for me? Has this ever happened to anyone else? I’ve read every single article on here about stalling because my mind is literally racing so terribly. I used to struggle with ED really bad so now all I wanna do is just not eat anything but I know that’s counterproductive in many ways.
If anyone who has gone through this or knows anyone who’s gone through this can just share their stories, advice, or anything pertaining to this topic while I wait for my doctor to get back to me. I would greatly appreciate it.

Moo ping skewers and Jasmine rice bowl from Luv2Eat Thai Bistro in Los Angeles

April 2, 2024
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 6:15 PM
I have a few contacts now via twitter.
[6:16 PM]
I just love people who are all about saying fuck the establishment. To a degree.
[6:16 PM]
Wow!
[6:17 PM]
I got one that is banned permanently. Then a throw away one. And then my main one im vocal on
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 6:23 PM
Oh YOU ARE BLUE BALLS SECURITY?!?!
[6:23 PM]
Lmaooooo
[6:24 PM]
​
[6:25 PM]
Damn there alll out early today. Now Jess is live
[6:26 PM]
Absolutely!
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 6:34 PM
Awee shucks, well its been a nice distraction
[6:34 PM]
Who do you think is your favorite streamer of the Squirrels to watch?
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 6:45 PM
It was. A long but fun day
[6:47 PM]
But my stupid ex made me go out the night before and up till like 3AM. I was pissed.
[6:48 PM]
So I just rolled out of bed at like 1230-1 and uber down
[6:48 PM]
No make up or anything and threw comfys on and dipped
[6:48 PM]
Well thank you. I was a hot mess express
[6:49 PM]
5'7
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 6:52 PM
​
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 7:05 PM
Big plans for tonight?
[7:12 PM]
Watching the streamers! I just made it on Jess' poster! Shes putting all our names on her poster
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 7:28 PM
STOPPPP
[7:29 PM]
Where was that???
[7:29 PM]
Aweee shucks stopppp
[7:32 PM]
Danks
[7:34 PM]
Did DOA say he was coming back?
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 7:36 PM
Ahhh okay. Ill just stick on Jess' live for now
[7:40 PM]
Why??
[7:42 PM]
I try and not to be a rude person. I like engaging in conversations with people
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 7:44 PM
Your boy just went live
[7:48 PM]
Ill head over cause jess is just writing names on her poster lol
[7:48 PM]
Shoot streets is live
[7:48 PM]
And yellin at the 5-0
[7:48 PM]
Gotta watch that
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 7:59 PM
Wow
[7:59 PM]
UNDER CONTROL
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 8:15 PM
Nah.
[8:15 PM]
I dont have much of an appetite
[8:16 PM]
But Chris' chipotle does look good but Im always disappointed when I get it. Plus Im saving every nickel and dime I have right now. So deff not ordering out or anything for a while.
[8:19 PM]
What do you know how to make besides pizza?!?!
[8:19 PM]
Lol
[8:21 PM]
Meatloaf
[8:21 PM]
Spaghetti good
[8:21 PM]
Chicken long as its well done lol
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 8:22 PM
Hahaha im picky and get weird food adversions. I like everything fully cooked and well done
​
katocean. — 04/02/2024 8:47 PM
Ruhhh rooh!
[8:49 PM]
Its just starting to sleet / snow over here
[8:49 PM]
And my dog wont stop bothering me to go out. Im like ANNA PUP HUSH YOU DONT NEED TO POTTY EVERY HR
​
1
April 3, 2024
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 7:38 AM
Sorry I fell asleep so early last night
[7:40 AM]
Thank you! Just woke up, its deff snowing but not much yet
[7:41 AM]
Yay for April! And snow! You never know what youre gonna get in the midwest
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 7:47 AM
No I applied for an apartment yesterday so hoping to hear back today... applying for another one today. Thats about it. Im temp staying in Wisconsin at my moms. Trying to return to work next week
[7:47 AM]
How about you??
[7:52 AM]
We both live such exciting lives right now
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 7:55 AM
How? My life is so messed up right now. I cant wait to get back to normalcy soon. Back in my own place, working, my daily routine etc
[7:57 AM]
​
[7:57 AM]
​
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 8:12 AM
Whose that?
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 8:24 AM
Ewww
[8:24 AM]
Omg
[8:24 AM]
Lord
[8:24 AM]
Stop
[8:24 AM]
Wtf
[8:24 AM]
I look like a night crawler
[8:31 AM]
Gah idk what you're definition of beautiful is but that is NOT it
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 8:33 AM
Wtfff lmao. That girl was NOT PLAYIN WITH YA
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 8:53 AM
Boy you and your pizza I like plain cheese but a GOOD and mean has to be good, bacon, chicken, bbq hits every once in a while
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 9:15 AM
Ewww
[9:15 AM]
No
[9:15 AM]
I dont even like hot dogs.
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 9:24 AM
Apple duh
[9:24 AM]
You're probably an android weirdo
[9:24 AM]
K bye
[9:30 AM]
​
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 9:58 AM
I dont really drink pop but If I do it has to be coke. I used to like pepsi then I went to Europe and they only had coke... so then bam I made the switch ever since
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 11:07 AM
Mmm I guess horror. I prefer documentaries, war movies especially about WW2, Drama, biographical movies, etc
[11:08 AM]
I'm more of a serious person with a purpose
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 2:22 PM
Im just annoyed AF
[2:23 PM]
The application process for these two places are driving me up the fucking wall
[2:23 PM]
Its easier to buy a fucking gun then it is to apply for an apartment
[2:23 PM]
And im just beyond livid right now
[2:23 PM]
All I want to do is cry
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 3:05 PM
Do you have a million dollars you can send me? That would be helpful, okay Ill take 100k... i wont be greedy
[3:05 PM]
Thank you
[3:06 PM]
I want to go home so badly. I want nothing to do with my ex. I dont even want to see him but I want to be back in my "home" until I have somewhere of my own again
[3:06 PM]
I hate that all my stuff is still there, that im at my moms
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 3:31 PM
You have a better mind set then me
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 3:38 PM
Karma works too slow for me
[3:38 PM]
And never seems to happen
[3:40 PM]
Damn lol
[3:40 PM]
Or did YOU break it?!?! Lmao
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 3:50 PM
Oh lord I dont want to get into politics. But I am NOT a Trumper. I will say that. I'm a pretty liberal activists and wouldnt be a social worker if I wasnt. But I will say, from a fiscal standpoint I am more conservative as I got older & on my own. And I do recognize that we do better as an economy usually when a republican is president. But thats all Im gonna say about that
[3:52 PM]
Oh god I know. I wish we didnt have to go through these two bafoons again. I want new fresh faces, younger faces with progressive ideas. But I pretty much hate both sides at this moment in time and govt in general
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 3:57 PM
Agree
[3:58 PM]
Im about to be in therapy for the next hr so my lack of responses will be why
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 6:04 PM
I know I just sped through his stream and caught up. Im worried they are keeping his phones and computer and fur coat. Cause the officer is like "for further investigation"
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 6:26 PM
Just relaxing. Contemplating if Im going to eat dinner or not.
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 6:44 PM
No way sir
[6:44 PM]
Im in a depression funk
[6:46 PM]
I can give you my instagram if you want
[6:46 PM]
But deff no selfies right now
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 6:52 PM
You can find it idk how to link it
[6:52 PM]
Still have all my pictures with my ex tho
[6:52 PM]
Just havent felt like deleting yet
[6:53 PM]
Also please if you see him tagged dont message him or anything. Even if you think thats being helpful.
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 7:06 PM
No bueno
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 7:20 PM
No bueno = No good
​
katocean. — 04/03/2024 8:38 PM
Thank you
April 4, 2024
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 9:12 AM
Morning, thank you. You as well
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 11:54 AM
Go to St. Louis Scientology Squirrel right now
[11:54 AM]
Shes in the St louis org
[11:54 AM]
Under cover live
[11:54 AM]
Recording
[11:54 AM]
But keep it on the DL. We dont want to many people knowing
[11:55 AM]
On YY
[11:55 AM]
Yt**
[11:55 AM]
​
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 12:06 PM
No but it was great. Cant wait for the full replay to be posted
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 12:14 PM
My mom informed me she had the book back in the 70s and her & her first husband read it. And thought it was "interesting"... I'm like omg... I could have became a sciento! Thank god it was just a dabble into the book and nothing more
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 12:22 PM
Oh god
[12:22 PM]
Probably one I hate
[12:22 PM]
Oh and to answer your question earlier... yes, I want to move to the PNW badly. Thats my dream
[12:22 PM]
​
[12:25 PM]
Pshhh i know why its your favorite picture... creepy old men lol
[12:25 PM]
But I did post it as a thirst trap sorta bahahaha
[12:25 PM]
I've lost nearly 80lbs this last year
[12:26 PM]
I always was skinny but the last 5-6 years I put sooo much weight on. I got up to 210 and now down to like 130
[12:27 PM]
Which is great. But id love for other parts of my life to fall in place so i can just be happy overall
[12:27 PM]
Do you try and work out? Or anything?
[12:27 PM]
Maybe LESS pizza XXXXX! Lol
[12:27 PM]
Jk
[12:28 PM]
Have you talked with your doctor on getting on like Wegovy or Ozempic? Do you have insurance?
[12:28 PM]
It was a life saver for me
[12:28 PM]
Yeah fool. I found ur fb too. XXXXX XXXXX
[12:28 PM]
​
[12:29 PM]
I gotta know who im randomly talking to
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 12:29 PM
But you have nothing besides memes and rando pictures that i can see and emoji bits or whatever lmao
[12:30 PM]
Get yourself on like Tinder or Bumble or Ok Cupid or somethin!
[12:30 PM]
But you deff have to have pictures
[12:31 PM]
I dont know. Im not in any place to give dating advice. I cant even fathom doing that at all right now. Im just ready to be single and build myself back up.
[12:31 PM]
Sheesh
[12:31 PM]
Im sorry
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 12:37 PM
What do you think the issue is? Like not placing blame on you or anything... but when you do a deep dive into yourself what issues or things do you think makes it hard for a women to want to pursue anything further with you?
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 12:53 PM
The snap chat thing is a little creepy IMO
[12:53 PM]
So Im not surprised you arent getting much traction from that
[12:53 PM]
Yeah not having a car is a huge hinderance
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 1:11 PM
No. My mom does alll the time. Shes actually watching it right now lmao. I find them cheesy AF. Ha. One of my ex's & cousin are extras in those show allll the time
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 1:22 PM
Only medical show I can watch is Greys Anatomy. And its because Ive been watching it since I was 16... and just cant give it up. 19 almost 20 years now.
[1:22 PM]
And I was and like "oh god this would never happen IRL" lmao
[1:23 PM]
Its the story lines for me of the characters. Not necessarily the medical aspects and patients.
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 1:31 PM
I dont watch the Good doctor. I watched like 2 episodes when it first came out and I couldnt get past his insane autistic melt downs
[1:31 PM]
Lmao Im an asshole
[1:32 PM]
Cute what?
[1:34 PM]
Lets see how fast Sciento dad blocks me
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 1:41 PM
Oh fuck me
[1:42 PM]
Probably Kathy hopefully
[1:42 PM]
And not Kathleen lol
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 2:07 PM
No
[2:07 PM]
Lol
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 2:31 PM
Lol!
[2:31 PM]
Me and Scientology twitter back at it right now
[2:31 PM]
​
​
[2:31 PM]
I love the attempting gaslighting
[2:33 PM]
Hahaha i love toying with these little fuckers
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 2:48 PM
​
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 3:18 PM
No thank you
[3:18 PM]
Maybe 5-10 years ago
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 7:19 PM
Hey I took a really long afternoon nap just woke up
[7:20 PM]
Lol
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 7:28 PM
Probably like a deep purple
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 7:38 PM
Yeah pretty close
​
katocean. — 04/04/2024 9:30 PM
No
[9:30 PM]
Lol
[9:30 PM]
Sorry
April 5, 2024
​
katocean. — 04/05/2024 8:31 AM
Sleeping, Ive been going to sleep early these days by like 9-10 ish or so
[8:32 AM]
Honestly, right now, I wake up wait for the day to go by just so I can go to sleep
[8:32 AM]
Im contemplating on returning to work next Tuesday
[8:37 AM]
I wish
​
katocean. — 04/05/2024 8:52 AM
Basically between 1,300-1,400 fml
[8:52 AM]
All 1 bedroom, 1 bath
[8:52 AM]
Sucks
​
katocean. — 04/05/2024 10:19 AM
Oh wow
[10:19 AM]
What kind of jobs do you do?
[10:19 AM]
What does your daughter do for work? Did you finish college with a degree or nah?
[10:24 AM]
How do you bring in any income, if you don't mind me asking? Are you on like disability?
[10:25 AM]
Like surveys?
​
katocean. — 04/05/2024 10:27 AM
Ahhh okay just curious
[10:27 AM]
You gotta get on that and get that money
[10:33 AM]
My favorite up and coming person right now is HonestAv
[10:33 AM]
https://open.spotify.com/album/11ZfrqRpeCnGBAbJ8e50kH?si=E9lWAq4mTTibq7p9Yo25EA
​
[10:33 AM]
I relate to his songs so much
​
katocean. — 04/05/2024 10:34 AM
Nah but his songs and lyrics are so relatable
[10:40 AM]
Ha. Im conservative. No more thirst traps.
​
katocean. — 04/05/2024 11:01 AM
Aweee thats nice of her for something so simple
[11:01 AM]
My ex is my age
​
katocean. — 04/05/2024 4:32 PM
Awee sorry to hear about your gmas cat, hope its ok!!
​
katocean. — 04/05/2024 7:08 PM
Ha
[7:09 PM]
I put in a few more inquiries. I do have a back up plan for May though.
​
katocean. — 04/05/2024 7:20 PM
HOT
[7:20 PM]
hahahahah
April 6, 2024
​
ThaBiGGDoGG — 04/06/2024 3:34 PM
Not sure what I did that made you upset. I wish you lots of luck with what you are dealing with. I'm always here if you wanna talk.

I have nothing in my life. I have nothing to look forward to when i wake up, no tasks no college or anything like that. I wake up, walk, binge, walk, hate myself, binge, binge and that happens every single day. My entire self worth depends on how many calories i eat and how many steps i take.
Ive been isolated ever since i stopped going to school first year of high school, its been years and now am an adult with no qualifications or real path.. i have no hobbies. I used to draw and read but i hate myself too much to allow myself to do it. I have a productivity addiction that stops me from doing anything i want since i have to “plan goals and a whole how to become a master or whatever” for it ebfore i can allow myself to just do the thing i want to. I have no friends. No outlet for my frustrations, i feel lonely and left out.. i do have college in the future to look forward to but thats months away and currently all i have is my binging.. i felt so happy with my progress in dieting and activity but now am just knocking myself down because i want get up and change my life myself.. am so damn isolated and autistic.,. If my autistic brain effing up my progress by making me obsessed with plans and structure or whatever.. ugh idk what am saying.
Am lonely and frustrated.. idk what else to say. Just eff my life ig..

i dont know whether to tag this side effects, experience, or rant, but...
SORRY THIS IS SO LONG !!!
i (19f) have the kyleena iud, which is the lowest dosage of progesterone hormones on the market. i have been on it since i was 16, so 3 years now.
i was told it was the best choice for me, because i forget to take pills, its the smallest choice for iud, and iuds are localized so "there shouldn't be any side effects shown in the whole body" i feel like ive been lied to, i was told "there are no side effects, youll be okay, atleast you wont have a baby!"
which is why i got on in the first place (besides my parents pretty much telling me i have to after meeting my boyfriend), is i am absolutely terrified of pregnancy. not just the normal amount, but the tokophobia amount.
i feel like im trapped. i want to be safe and have an extra layer of protection so i wont fear intercourse every time it happens like i did before i got on. i would always be too focused and anxious if the condom was on to enjoy it. thats why i choose to still be on it.
but since getting on birth control- i hate myself. so much. i dont know what i look like or who i am anymore
there are so many side effects...

 1. SO. much. weight. gain. i hate my body. 

i was only 135 lbs before i started BC. within the first year i gained 60lbs- now im steadily still climbing, and im 205lbs after being on it for 3 years. i dont recognize myself, i cant dress how i like to anymore, im so ashamed of my body... now before you say anything like "just lose it", i've tried, asshole.

 2. i can not lose all the weight i gained no matter how hard i try. 

ive eaten in a calorie deficit of 2,000, 1,500 cals, 900 cals, 500 cals, then even i tried not eating anything at all for a month. i tracked it all on myfitnesspal and you could see the graph of my weight going up up up and my calories going down lower and lower.
during these time periods i would do consistent cardio, exercise, lifting, pilates. i tried so many things yet i kept on getting weaker and weaker at the gym and gaining more and more weight.
food isn't food to me anymore. i regret eating. i feel sick when i think about eating. its all just numbers reminding me about how fat and hideous i am.
135 to 205 is 70lbs in just 1 year. it stretched my skin so bad i have deep purple stretch marks all over me that haven't faded even after 2 years.
when i wanted to get a bellybutton piercing the piercer told me my stomach was too fat to get one. at my doctor's appointment i had when i was 17 a year after i got on it, she told me "wow youre gaining a lot of weight! let's discuss eating fruits and vegetables." as if its that simple. my boyfriend is a bodybuilder and tells me im not trying hard enough to lose weight. how hard do i have to try? i stopped eating but i still gain...
i hate the way i look. no one tells me im pretty anymore.

 3. i was supposed to stop my period, but now i bleed for 10-17 days straight 

it never stopped. it comes every month right on time, i actually have a pretty normal schedule. but GOD the fucking bleeding. i have to wear a pad so long that it gives me diaper rash in-between my thighs like im a fucking baby. and its not just the bleeding for 15 days that pisses me off, its the cramps and the bloating.

 4. horrible cramps and bleeding, that akin to actual contractions 

when i cramp it makes me lay on the floor and shake and cry. i told my gyno ive cramped so hard it makes me vomit and my head spin and i sweat. they told me the birth control should fix it in time, and made sure my iud wasn't stabbing my uterus and sent me on my way.

 5. im so tired all the time. 

physically and mentally. i cant lift anything at the gym and i cant run like i used to.
i have constant brain fog, my entire last year of highschool i couldn't even tell you what happened because i was constantly tired and could barely pay attention or retain any information.
im the age where im supposed to be choosing what college i want to go to, but i feel so mentally burnt out all the fucking time the thought of trying to go to back to school seems impossible.

 6. PMDD, i go hysterical every month 

(PMDD means pre menstrual dysphoric disorder.)
i worry all the time, i cry all the time, im always overthinking. but the week before my period. thats different. i literally feel like i want to k! myself. im inconsolable, the hysteria or mania or whatever doesn't stop until i stop bleeding, and then i go right into it again within a week. it feels like BPD. its not mood swings, im in a constant low.

 7. ovulation cramps and fever 

i only have maybe 4 good days out of the month. i cramp and bleed and get a fever when i ovulate.

 9. weak/numb when i try to "finish" & pain during sex 

my "O"s are way less intense, sometimes it feels like it doesn't even happen. its weird ? and it feels like i cant really even feel stuff down there anymore. its like it went numb and its a lot more effort that it ever has been to finish. it makes me feel guilty sometimes. my boyfriend is 6'4 and i am 5'5, even tho hes large compared to me, its always painful during intercourse, and it wasn't before i got on it.

 EDIT- 10. i also think i have miscarried a few times. i brought this up to my gyno and they said "sometimes that happens, thats what birth control does. makes sure youre not pregnant" 11. i hate myself 

i dont know who i am anymore. not physically, not mentally, not anything. i am so terrified of being pregnant, thats the only reason i stay on birth control.
i dont know what to do or who i am anymore. i dont want to feel or look this way anymore.
my boyfriend wants me to get off of it, he says he doesn't like that i have artificial hormones messing with my brain... but sometimes i wonder if im not physically attractive to him anymore. i am almost 100lbs heavier than what he fell in love with.
i dont know where to go from here...
should i try the copper coil with no hormones? i heard it constantly makes you bloated and crampy... i honestly dont know what my other choices are.
i just wanna be and look myself again.

 TL;DR- im fat and ugly and hypomanic and bleed so much and am in lots of pain and hate myself lol. 🎀 im just a girl 

Hey there. I’m a 39F and looking for macro suggestions. I paid for a fitness plan which was great and got great advice but don’t participate anymore. This is what they suggested (approx.)
Current suggested plan: Food 1360 calories but not including veggies which should be eaten with every meal 120g - protein 40-50g - fat 140-150g - carbs
Fitness 10k steps daily 4x/ week of weight training 2x/ week 60min low intensity cardio
Challenges: - I am trying not to eat too many processed foods like fake meats, which is also my primary source of protein (also there’s tons of sodium in processed foods) - I am avoiding eggs - I am keeping nonfat Greek yogurt in my diet and maybe this is where I increase my protein - I was trying to be more plant based - If I aim to eat more whole foods, it is really hard to get 120g of protein plus I increase me carb intake significantly
My goals: - Weight loss (long term goal is 120-125) - Muscle toning, avoiding bulk, just want to be a bit stronger
I would love to know: - How much protein can I eat to still attain goals - Will the increase in carbs have negative effects on my goals if I’m hitting my fitness targets? - Any vegetarian/vegan suggestions for adjusting my macro targets?

During the course of my career as an alpha Sasquatch hunting, Dogman destroying, pussy crushing, luxury watch loving dude, I have run into this particular woman a few times. She is one part uber sensuality, and the other part deadly. Yes, I am speaking about the lovely, Anna Conda. I bring her up because I had another run-in with her last year.

Anna and I first joined forces, so to speak, when she acted as a go-between in my business deal with the Chinese to sell them bigfoot parts. See, I would hunt and kill the critters, cut them up, deliver the parts to Anna, who in turn gave me a suitcase containing unmarked American hundred-dollar bills, then she would transport the bigfoot parts to the Chinese. I was never really sure of what the sneaky-ass Chinese were doing with the body parts. All I knew for sure is that they are extracting certain materials from them, then synthesizing them with some other shit, creating some sort of drug. Whether it then becomes a bio-weapon or a dick stimulant, I do not know. Neither do I care. As long as they kept the hundies coming, I was good.

Now, while Anna is of Russian descent, she is a freelancer. She will work for any sick, skeevy motherfucker out there. She does not care. She has no conscience, at least not in the traditional sense as we understand it in western civilization. Today she is working for the Chinese, and tomorrow she may be working for Hamas. She is a slippery motherfucker.

So here is how it went down. At 11:32 p.m. on a Friday in September of last year I get a call on my cell phone. When the call came in I was balls deep into this hot little lass I picked up at the bus station a little earlier in the evening from an old swarthy chap named “Colorado Joe”. He wanted to sell me the girl. I was assured she was over 20 years old. I told him I needed to take her out for a test ride, which he agreed to.

So, there I was, balls deep in “Bing Bang Yun”, and my phone rings. Of course, I silence all incoming calls not in my contacts list. Thus, I knew that I must know the caller. In mid stroke I reached over to the nightstand to retrieve my cell and looked at it. It was a call from “Sergio”. I thought, “Oh shit…. I am going to have to cut the Oriental bang circus short.” When Sergio calls, I have to respond…immediately. He has the best blow on the east coast!!

“Hey, Serge! What’s up?”, I asked. All he said was, “Hooters. 2:00 a.m.”, then hung up. This was obviously the rendezvous for the transaction. Now, understand that Serge was not talking about the chicken wing restaurant. Hooters was code, in case the feds were listening in on the line. “Hooters” meant the titty bar out on Highway 69 called “The Plump Rump”. We had a communications code we used.

It was a long haul to the titty bar, so I needed to get moving. I had no time to return the girl to Colorado Joe, so I took her with me. I had her blow me on the way to the meeting with Sergio, telling her that her performance would make the difference on whether I save her from Joe or not. Of course, after she was done I tossed her out of my speeding truck and down, over the bridge, and into the Wendigo River below. I did not need any complications in my life right now.

I arrived at The Plump Rump at 2:00 a.m. on the dot. I saw the manager, Lou Skunt, sitting at the bar when I walked inside. I nodded. He walked over and said to me, “Use my office for the meeting The parties are already in there waiting for you.” I nodded and then headed to Lou’s office. Then it hit me: Lou said the “PARTIES” are already here. That is, parties, meaning more than one person. It was not just Sergio. It was 2 or more people! Lou was probably in for a cut of whatever was about to go down.

Something was bad fucked up!! I know for a fact that Sergio never brings anyone with him on a deal, at least not with me. He is too distrustful of people to do that, and too fucking mean to need protection. Something was wrong. I was just as likely to get whacked when I enter Lou’s office as anything else. I needed a moment to think things through.

I took a spot in front of one of the performance poles to watch a young, swarthy Mexican lass perform. My mind quickly strayed from the problem at hand to this brown chick’s ass and tits. She was not a great looking chick, but her body was smoking!! I quickly became aroused. I thought to myself, “Goddamn Asian bitches!! They are just like Chinese food – after 2 hours you are ready for some more!!”

When the little Mexican chick went on break I motioned her over to my table. “Hola Senior!!”, she said. I pulled out a clear plastic baggie of blow and dropped it on the table. Her eyes grew wide and slobber starting falling from her mouth. Blow is like catnip for strippers. Thus, she fell under my spell immediately.

The next thing I know, this brown girl was on my lap, dry humping me like a feral bitch dog in heat. I had to bang her. I NEEDED to see my wang penetrating her. Just then, someone taps my shoulder hard. I look up to see Lou standing over me. He bent down and said, “Did you forget about my office, asshole?!?!?!” I replied, “Damn, Lou!! You read my mind!!!” I arose, with the little Mexican bolted onto my mid-section, and hastily retreated to Lou’s office. I figured Lou would prefer me to stain this chick in private rather than out in the open.

The door to the office opened easily. The lights were on inside. In a lustful haze, I set the little Mexican chick on her back across Lou’s desk and started pumping the shit out of her, completely unaware of the others in the room with us. In a moment I heard someone call my name. I twist my neck around to see Sergio sitting on Lou’s jizz crusted couch. I think to myself, “Oh shit! I forgot about that shit!”

I figured I would just move forward with the deal as it was proposed to me. “Hey Serge! What ya got for me, dude?”, I asked. He replied, “I have a very special deal for you. I need, uh … yeah, ……Hey, Rod, you want to stop for a moment so we can talk?” I picked up the little tamale and laid her down onto Sergio’s lap as I continued to plow her. She stayed on my cock the whole time. I told Sergio, “No, man. I’m good! Lay it on me!” Slowly, Sergio lowered his face into his palm.

Then it happened. The voice cam from behind me, in the dark corner of Lou’s office. It was velvety yet hard as steel. “Rod. Went need to talk”, it said. Even though I did not stop pumping the little brown chick, a chill went down my spine when I heard those words. It was the thick timbre of the voice, I think, that alerted me.

I turned to look across the room. There, sitting in a red leather captains chair against the wall was the source of the sultry voice: Anna Conda.

I picked up the little taco yet again and turned her around so I could face Anna as I continued pumping her. At this point the Mexican girl was merely a masturbation toy I was using. I increased my pump so I could dump my load and get this over with. Then BAMM!!!, it was over. I removed the lass from my huge rod, after which her body crumpled to the floor. I did not know if she was dead or injured, or what had happened to her. But I did not care either, so I did not dwell on it.

I tried to compose myself the best I could, then walked over to stand before Anna so I could get to the bottom of all this business. “Well, well, well. Anna Conda. We meet again. Tell me, what brings you here, to my little neck of the woods?”

Anna replied, “Rod, put your dick away.” I looked down and, indeed, I had forgotten to stow my cock. Out of pure curtesy, I packed it away. Then I returned my attention to Anna. “Alright, Anna, what’s going on here?”

Anna launched into a startling tale about what brought her to me. As she spoke I became lost in her wanton beauty. She got up from her chair and walked about the room as she relayed her story, presumably to make it more dramatic and demonstrative. I got a full-on view of her body, and it was fantastic!!

She stands 5’10’’ and weighs 105 lbs. She is lithe. She was showing it off too, wearing a black, silk dress that landed just about her ankles. The top was low-cut, betraying just a bit of cleavage from her C-cup wineglass titties. She was not wearing a bra. Anna never wears a bra. Her nips were perfectly outlined through the silk. In fact, I think her nips were hard. It was probably something she did on purpose in an attempt to influence me. It was working.

Anna’s ass was perfect. It was not at all fat, but round enough not to be skinny. It was a fit figure skater’s ass. As she walked, I could see a tiny bit of jiggle emanating from her ass flesh, and then reverberated in the silky black dress she wore. My cock began growing hard again.

Her face was beautiful. Think Scarlett Johanson and Phoebe Cates rolled into one. But any sweetness this may evoke is quickly dispelled by Anna’s throaty voice with its thick Russian accent. I have known Anna for 20 years. Yet, she still does not look a day over 25. Jesus Christ!!! If ever there was a chick to die for ….. If I was one to delve into the belief of the paranormal, then I may conclude that Anna made a deal with the devil. But, I am not such a person.
And literally, Anna Conda is a chick to die for. She is deadly as fuck. She will kill you in a split second without a thought just because she does not like the shirt you are wearing. She can do it too. She is always armed and she knows how to use her weapons. Moreover, she is a total psychopath. This makes her doubly dangerous.

Anna and I have always gotten along for the most part. Like Anna, the dollar is my primary motivating factor. Such a mindset allows for understanding and predictability among people, which are elements that are sorely missing in many business dealings today that go on in the color of darkness.

Suddenly, Anna snapped me out of my thoughts. “Here’s your gun, Rod. Now let’s get started”, said Anna. She and Sergio were halfway through the door exiting Lou’s office when I said, “Hey, wait a damned minute!!! What are you talking about?!?”

They both stopped, and Anna walked back in and looked me in the eyes, saying “The plan, Rod. Let’s get on with the plan.” A little embarrassed, I sheepishly asked, “What plan?” Anna folded her arms and looked cross at me. After a moment to allow me to simmer in my shame, she asked, “You were not paying attention, were you, Rod?” I shook my head and looked down.

I heard a hammer cock. I jerked my head back up to find myself staring down the barrel of a pistol pointed at my head that Anna was holding. I protested, “Look, it is not my fucking fault!! Put that fucking gun down!!!” I continued, “You were distracting me with …. Well.. you know, how you are dressed, and that hot, sultry voice…. You know?”

“So, instead of paying attention to the plan, you chose to eye-rape me. Is that what I am to understand your position is, Rod?”, she asked. Knowing that my life was on the line, I said, “Anna, look, you know I am horny to a fault. Then you come in here, swinging them tits around, wearing that silk dress showing off the crack of your ass…. WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU EXPECT TO HAPPENED?”

Anna lowered her gun. She knew that my explanation of being a total cocksman was truth. “Let’s go”, Anna curtly said. I obeyed.

Anna explained the plan to me again on the drive from The Plump Rump. She made me wear a blindfold so that I would not get horny during her explanation. Here is how it went:

Anna Conda was now working for the Russians. It seems that Putin caught wind of the Sasquatch project that the Chinese were working on. He also knew that the American government have been fucking with sasquatch for decades. Thus, he was very concerned about the existence of a bigfoot gap. He ordered the acquisition of a Sasquatch specimen immediately.

Moreover, said specimen must be prime. It needed to be the biggest, baddest sasquatch of them all – a true alpha – so as to speed things along. Putin did not want some weird shit-creature, is-it-a-sasquatch-or-is-it-a-dogman, kind of monstrosity. He wanted purebred, badass sasquatchery, and preferably from the American Pacific northwest.

Anna got in on it because she sold the intel to Putin about China’s Sasquatch operation. She then told Putin she could produce sasquatch corpses for him. She told him she had a contact (i.e., me). Thus, with Putin’s blessing and promises of riches to come, Anna set out to America to find me.

Now, here is where things got a bit squirrely. See, I agreed to procure some more dead sasquatch. I have no problem with killing sasquatch because, in my opinion, they are an abomination on this Earth. I kind of feel like I am doing God’s work by wiping out as many of them as I can. And given all the not-so-Godly stuff I have done, I feel like killing Sasquatch kind of offsets that to some degree.

But Anna, she was stuck on Putin’s instruction that she must supply him with apex Sasquatch. So she did not want to take my advice of heading to the Pacific Northwest or Alaska. Instead, Anna claimed to have pinpointed the whereabouts of a particularly gruesome sasquatch beast that she KNEW would win her a fortune from Putin if she brought it to him.

“So, where is this beast?”, I asked. Anna replied “Martha’s Vineyard”. I paused. Then I asked her to repeat herself. It turns out that I was not mistaken about what Anna had said. I continued, “Uh, Anna, there are no sasquatch on Martha’s Vineyard, just a lot of wealth New Englander schmucks.”

Anna looked at me and told me I was wrong. Then she decided to attempt to taunt me. “Oh, Rod, mighty slayer of Bigfoot! Yet, you fail to take notice of where the biggest, most foul and rotten beast of them all makes its home. Jesus, Rod!! What kind of bigfoot hunter are you, anyway?” Anna then spit at my feet and wondered aloud whether she even needs me for this job.

I decided that I needed to straighten out the hierarchy here in order for this here deal to move forward. I said, “Well, Anna, feel free to truck on over to Old Whitey Beach and battle that beast. But, if there is a big old mangy sasquatch lurking around over there, then it is probably a fucking Nazi-Squatch. You know, those fuckers out there hate the Jews.”

The work “Nazi” visibly shook Anna. Her great grandfather died defending Leningrad. Her entire family there died of either starvation or cannibalism during Hitler’s siege during Operation Barbarossa. Anna despised Nazis. But she feared them too. After landing that punch, I decided to push my luck.

“Now, I am still willing to help you catch this here Nazi-Squatch, but you have to do something for me”, I said. Now Anna’s eyes were on me, and they were narrowing. I continued, “I want you to get bare assed naked and pleasure yourself while I stand over you and jack it.” Anna stared at me silently for a long moment. Then she replied.

“After the job is done, and you can get none of your … fluids… on me”, she said. I shook my head and countered, “Now, and I will ‘try’ to not get my spunk on you.”

However, Anna then turned the tables on me. In fact, she picked up the table and bashed my head in with it. She looked me in my eyes, then matter-of-factly said, “You get the beast, and your prize shall be a night with me, anything goes, darling.” Well, since this caused all of the blood to immediately drain from my brain, I had a lapse in judgment. “DEAL!!”, I said. Then we shook on it.

“OK, tell me more about this supposed monster sasquatch on Martha’s Vineyard”, I said. I still was not ready to believe there was a monster out there. “I show you photo”, said Anna. She took out her phone, scrolled to find the photo, then handed the phone to me. “There. Sasquatch”, she said.

I stared at the photo and remained silent. After a long moment, I turned the phone so that Anna could see the photo and asked, “Uh, Anna, is THIS what you intended to show me?” She replied. “Yes! There…Sasquatch! The biggest, grossest monster around.”

Now, I could not argue with Anna that the image on her phone is a big, gross monster. Hell, it could actually be a sasquatch, and THE UBER sasquatch. It is most certainly the grossest thing on Martha’s Vinyard. But I somehow do not think this is what Putin is expecting.

I turned to Anna and said, “Anna, this is a photo of Michelle Obama. I know it looks vile, and has a huge, hulking body with large appendages where a woman should not have them. But, sweatheart, that ain’t no sasquatch. That’s a big, hairy Chicago street negro.”

Anna did not believe me at first. She was hard in her conviction that Obama was a sasquatch. “I have seen the Sasquatch beast you deliver to me for China. This … Michelle Obama …. It is big, and hairy, and ugly like the sasquatch beast, but worse.”

When the truth finally set it, I could see that it had kind of broken down poor Anna, if only just a bit. I put my arm around Anna and told her, “Look, Michelle O fooled you. Hell, she and her Hamas Hubby fooled millions of Americans, twice! At least you saw Michelle for what she is, to wit: a big, gross sasquatch, and NOT some kind a retarded leftist messiah.”

After that, things took a rather dark turn. “What if we still take her to Putin? We can make deal; sell her to Putin!!” At this point I held up my hands and said, “I’m out”, then turned and walked away. Anna followed, trying to get me to stay. At this point, I could tell that Anna was coming undone a little.

See, she had to produce for Putin. There is no telling what kind of secret deal she actually had with him. She had to deliver a big old mangy Obama …. Er, uh, I mean … Sasquatch, to Putin.

“Ok, Rod, we do your plan. We go out west to kill bigfoot. Huge, monster bigfoot. she said. I turned and looked Anna in her eyes and said the following: First, we bang for 48 hours straight, right now, so I can get my fill of you. Second, you pay me $10,000.00 cash upfront. Third, upon delivery of the dead bigfoot, you pay me $1 million immediately.”

Anna agreed to everything, but noted that at the present time it was her “time of the month”. I grimaced, as I will absolutely not go there (and she knows that). “Fine, next week we bang”, I said. She pointed out that I would be in the woods next week hunting sasquatch. “Fine, once I come out of the woods, then we bang – 48 hours straight”, I said. “Of course, darling!”, she agreed.

Well, it took several days to set up the hunt, but it finally happened. I was in Washington state at high elevation based on intel I has acquired that indicated that there was a monstrous 15’ tall sasquatch on the mountain range that had been murdering and eating hunters and hikers. After 3 months in these mountains without a trace of the creature I began to lose hope, thinking that I probably got some bad intel, or bad coordinates.

I got my satellite phone out to call for an extraction. Winter was setting in fast, and if I did not get off this mountain soon, then I would freeze and/or starve to death. Unfortunately, my contact did not answer. I tried for 2 days. No answer. I had been fucked. I wondered what had happened back in civilization that caused me to be abandoned like this. I resolved that I would get off that mountain and get to the bottom of this shit. There would be hell to pay for this betrayal!!’

I was able to get in touch with contacts from back home. I got old Billy Ray from Ellijay and Rattler on the phone and got them to come out here to Washington State to extract me. Rattler use to fly helicopters in the Army. He has an old Huey sitting in his front yard, to the chagrin of his HOA. He fired that sucker up, and him and old Billy Ray flew out here to my coordinates and extracted me.

After landing at a convenience store to buy some beer for the flight home, we headed east. Through the skies a way, Billy Ray said, “Well, Rod, I guess you is bout ready to git back home to Georgia, eh?” In fact, I was ready to go home. But I had to take care of some business first. I told them both to take me to New York City. They were both perplexed. All I said to them was “I have an old friend there I have to see before I can go home.”

I have intel on where Anna Conda stays when she is in the United States. She stays at certain hotels depending on what month she is here, and whether her check-in date is an odd or even number. This is for undercover work. I came across the code for her stays while doing the sasquatch work for China. She an I were caught in a snowstorm one night in Buffalo, NY, and had to share a room at the Holiday Inn near the airport. We had like 10 big Igloo ice chests with iced down sasquatch body parts with us in the room.

Anna was like, “No hanky panky, Rod. I am tired and I want to go to bed. Tomorrow we finish business.”

Frankly, I did not blame her for withholding her magnificent muff from me. I was tired as hell. But, I could not settle for nothing. So, when Anna was in the bathroom taking a shower, I started going through her suit case. I wanted to find some of her panties to jack off into. Instead, I found a little black notebook. Inside it contained her lodging codes, and some other interesting things. I photographed the contents with my phone and then put it back.

When Anna got out of the shower she was already dressed in her night clothes. She saw me lying on my back, nude on the bed, and jacking it. “Rod!! GROSS!!!! Go to the restroom to do that shit!!!”, she commanded. I just did it to get a rise out of her. LOL!!

So, if Anna is still inside the U.S., then using the codes I stole from her I can locate precisely where she will be that night. I studied it for a few moments then had my answer. Tonight she would be staying at the Dogman Inn on Hwy 95 South, Room 355. I told Rattler to get me there stat!

We had to stop several times for fuel and beer. Those Hueys go just a bit over a hundred MPH, you know. But eventually, we got there. I gave the boys some money and told them to go to the Waffle House for some coffee to sober up. Then they would fly me home.

I should mention that I also had Rattler’s fully auto Russian AK-74 with spare mags. During the long flight with 2 drunks from Washington State to New York City, I had worked myself up into a towering rage over how Anna fucked me on this Putin deal. She had clearly thrown me aside. But for what, exactly? I figured I would storm the hotel room, get some answers, then shower the room with gun fire.

I busted through the door of Room 355 at exactly 3:35 a.m. There she was. My entry roused her from slumber. I was pointing my rifle at her, center mass. She was shocked at the appearance of a gunman in her room at this time of night. However, she was not as shocked as one would think (this was not the first time something like this has happened to her).

I raised my face from the receiver just enough so she could see it was me. “Rod!!!”, she exclaimed. “What happened to you?!?!? I thought you had died up in those mountains when we never hear from you!” I replied, “Shove it up that cute little ass of yours, Anna. You fucked me. And not in the good way. What the fuck was all that shit about needing a sasquatch for Putin?!?”

Anna played dumb. But it struck me that I had been deliberately put out of the loop for 3 months. Why? Who wanted me away for that long, and why? What went on in my absence?!? I was just dying to know!!! I set my rifle down and pulled out my fixed blade knife, ready to get down to some real nasty work on Anna so I could get some truth. The pure evil of what I was about to do to her caused a wide death grin to grow on my face. Anna saw it. She knew what it meant. She swallowed hard and her eyes betrayed the shear terror she felt inside. I was engorged with blood lust. She knew she had fucked up one time too many this time!!

Suddenly came the sound of the toilet in the bathroom flushing. I was momentarily shocked. I did not expect anyone else to be there with Anna. Anna saw it in my face. I glanced at her and saw that the terror in her face was replaced with pleasure, a slight smile creeping over her face.

I was going to have to face off against this person in the bathroom, who would be out in a split moment. When I do that, I will have to turn 180 degrees from Anna, thereby making me vulnerable to her. I had only once choice: Shoot Anna first.

Just as this came to me, but just before I could act on it, the bathroom door opened. I had to deal with that person before Anna now. I spun around to see that it was a completely nude, and fat, white man. He was a real oafish blob. He looked surprised to see me. He also looked sort of familiar.

I next heard the crack of something hitting my skull hard. I remember the immediate hateful pain that shot through my body and the sound of blood rushing through my ears. I remember the dizziness, then falling to the floor. Clearly, as I fixed on the man from the bathroom, Anna had cracked me over the head with a blunt object.

I came to the next morning, Billy Ray and Rattler had manage to track me down based upon coordinates I left in the chopper that said “IN CASE OF EMERGENCY”. Billy Ray filled up the hotel room ice bucket with cold water and doused my head with it to bring me conscious. I was disoriented at first. But after a bit, what happened in this room the night before came back to me.

Honestly, I am surprised that Anna did not just kill me. I presume that she thinks she can leverage her drop-dead hotness to get me to do more shit for her in the future. She is absolutely right about that too. Rattler then said, “Hey, Rod, that snake bitch left a letter fer ya.”

He handed me the letter. This is what it said:
____________________________________________

“Dear Rod:

Sorry about the boo boo on your head. Hope it heals soon. Also sorry about leaving you in the mountains. I was not running a scam on you Rod. Rather, an opportunity arose for me to acquire a sasquatch body from another person. You may know him since you are a sasquatch hunter. His name is Matt Moneymaker. Anyway, until next time…..

Yours truly,
Anna Conda”
_____________________________________________
I could not fucking believe it. That was fatfuck Moneymaker in the hotel room earlier. Anna fucked Matt Fatfuck Moneymaker for a Sasquatch! That fat son of bitch!!

Billy Ray asked, “You ready to go Rod?” I stood up and said, “Yeah, let’s go.” Then Rattler said, “Hey, ya wanna stop and git some beer fer the ride home?” I replied “Hell yeah.”

I felt like I wanted to die. Thank God for beer and buddies. I don’t blame Anna. She is a fucking snake, and I knew that before this started. Also, I cannot really blame fatfuck Moneymaker for wanting to get some of that hot poon pie Anna serves up. I guess I have to blame fate for fucking me over this time. I even started thinking that next time I will just avoid Anna. But I know I won’t, thus making me subject to this sort of shit again. I had Rattler set us down in Charlottesville so I could buy some hard liquor.

We measure the energy content of food in calories. My understanding is that this is calculated using something like a bomb calorimeter, where you essentially burn the food and calculate how many calories of heat energy are released.
This is going to be an obvious over estimate if you want to calculate the actual number of bioavailable calories when you consume the food. Some of the food consists of fibre, some of the calories will be consumed by the gut microbiome, and some will be excreted.
Is there a measure that takes into consideration these loss factors to give a bioavailable calorie content for different foods?

I've had my rats for two weeks now. I'm feeding them a mix of foods and I want to give them some shrimp. I bought some whole frozen shrimp and it feels a waste to only give them the tail and throw the rest away, considering there's vitamin and mineral in the rest. But I'm not sure how much whole shrimp is appropriate considering there's probably many calories with the organs and brain etc. Also I don't know how to divided it between them since one shrimp each would definitely be too much. Any tips?

I am about 7-10 weeks. I cant get out of bed really, im dizzy when I stand, i cannot eat, can only drink the occasional ensure nutritional drinks. My heart races pretty often. Im not even getting in 800 calories a day. Im so exhausted to the point I cant do anything, housework, shower, work, take the dog out. I've almost fainted a few times. And overall I feel incredibly sick and in pain everywhere. Not to mention how depressed I am.
For many reasons including these, I do not plan on keeping this pregnancy which is why I have not consulted a doctor about these symptoms. I have an appt for termination on friday. But this is absolute hell in the meantime. I am so sick. I just want to know if this is normal or concerning

How many calories burned mowing?
Me (22M, 230lbs, 5 10) just got a summer job mowing grass. I’m supposed to mow grass (push mower) for 8 hours, roughly 6-8 miles a day 5x a week. How many calories would one day burn? I’ve been trying to look online, but all the calculators are gonna be crazy numbers like 50k 😭. Anyone have a good number? Really trying to focus on money and also fitness this summer.
Over the last semester, I gained 20 pounds, because all I did was study and Work in ems (lol). This summer I really need to make a lot of money and lose a lot of weight, I’m doing both at this job.
I would also need some help on keeping my way down the semester ? Not necessarily sure how I would do that.
Thanks!!

I have no idea how much this could have since I'm pretty new to calorie counting. This is a bubble waffle stick, the bubbles are like the size of a tangerine. The chocolate on top is nutella.

Looking for some good workout (and maybe diet) recommendations! I have such a hard time sticking to workouts because I just don’t see results and I get easily discouraged. What are some workout routines yall enjoy? I can’t really do any knee bending workouts b/c I have early onset arthritis in my knees and it’s painful!
I would also love to hear about diets too! How many calories do you eat, etc? I’ve tried gluten free before since I read it helps with hypo but it wasn’t for me
Thanks!!

What am I doing? Dominick Mason asked himself for the hundredth time that night. It was late on a rainy Sunday evening and Dom, a tall, lanky man-boy of twenty-five with a prominent Adam’s apple and too big eyes, stared out the rain-slicked window of the 905. The big bus swayed and jostled as it lumbered down Central Avenue, the movements strangely comforting, conducive to reflection…and self-doubt.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed, and a pit opened up in his stomach. He fumbled it out with long fingers and read the text. Are u almost here
His thumb hovered over the screen, but he did not reply. Part of him wanted to block the number, slink back home with his tail between his legs, and forget the whole thing. He could boot up his PS4 and play Red Dead Redemption or GTA V like always. Safe. Familiar. The thought, however, stirred a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.
It was dread.
Every night, he did the same thing. He came home from work to his tiny prison cell apartment. He had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He played video games until it was time to go to bed. The worst part of the whole night was when he turned off the TV and saw his murky reflection in the screen. Plaid. Scrawny. Disgusting. He hated being locked in that apartment, with its old smells and white walls, but he hated going out even more. At least in his hole, he was safe, like a mouse. No one hurt or lied to him there. No one gave him funny looks. No one rejected him. He was completely safe in his solitude, a wounded animal hiding in its den and licking its wounds.
He was wounded and he knew it.
And he hated himself for it. Hated that he wasn’t stronger or better. Hated that even though he tried so hard, everything he did fell apart…if it even came together in the first place, which it rarely did.
The phone buzzed again.
Just a question mark this time.
His heart began to race and a steely fist slowly closed around his lungs. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took a deep breath. He pictured himself alone in his little apartment. He loved the image, but he hated it too. Most nights, he didn’t mind being alone. He had to not mind it, because he didn’t have a choice. Some nights…some nights he didn’t want to be alone. Some nights he wanted warmth, he wanted tenderness…some nights, he wanted to be human.
Every so often, Dom would get the urge to find those things. They came less frequently than they did before, but unfortunately, they still came. He would create an account on Plenty of Fish and OKCupid, maybe some of the other sites as well. He would agonize over his stupid intro and his stupid list of hobbies. He would spend hours - literally hours - writing and rewriting them, trying at first to be serious, then light and funny, then cool, then aloof, then vulnerable. He would take the best possible pictures from the best possible angles, then upload them, never lingering over them because he hated the way he looked. He didn’t think he was ugly - mid was more like it - but apparently, he was ugly. Too ugly for love, too ugly even to talk to.
The ugly barnacle. So ugly that everyone died. The end.
All of Dom’s pictures were all selfies, of course. Guys he listened to on YouTube said he needed action shots, shots with friends, shots that showed women he had a life, was valued by those around him, and knew how to have fun. Too bad for him, he had no friends and no one valued him, not even his own mother. On the surface, maybe, but she had hurt him so many times over the years in so many ways that even the most devout son would stop and think.
It had to be selfies.
When his profile was in order - or as much in order as he could get it - he would start to browse. Dom knew his place and never messaged women who were too beautiful. He used to, but they never responded. He eventually began to skip their profiles with a pang of loss and a quiet what if? Now, he barely noticed them. Blonde. Petite. Blue eyes. Maybe she was a cheerleader at one time, maybe she was the type of girl who looked down her nose at guys like him. Maybe she was a sweetheart. In any case, he would never find out, so who cares?
He went for women he could realistically obtain…the type of women he’d dated and hooked up with in the past. Some were attractive in their own way, others were hard to look at, he wasn’t picky; he couldn’t afford to be picky. One woman he saw was a good three hundred pounds. She was nice and he liked her enough, but he lapsed into depression while they were dating and he never messaged her back…not that she made a huge effort to message him. Another was a pre-K teacher in her mid-thirties. Overweight with a big nose, glasses, and a plain face when she wasn’t wearing make-up. He liked her a lot and wanted to be with her, but after a month of weekend hookups, she said she didn’t love him. She told him she wanted a family - three kids, to be exact - but “changed her mind.” No, she didn’t. She just didn’t want those things with him.
Now she was in her late thirties, single, and having regrets.
She still wouldn’t settle for him, though.
Another woman he’d seen recently (six months ago) was fifty, but not unattractive. They texted for weeks, hot and heavy. She outright told him that she wanted to have sex with him. Said all sorts of nasty and sexual things. Their first (and only date) was her coming to his apartment. Instead of tender kisses, loving caresses, and intense emotions, they shared an awkward two hours on his couch. When he tried to hold her hand and put his arm around her, she stiffened. Not much, just a little. She said she “wasn’t ready.” He sat there and watched the flowers he’d gotten her wilt as she talked about her ex for an hour and a half, his arms pointedly crossed. He even leaned as far away from her as humanly possible, trying to communicate with his body language what he didn’t have the guts to communicate with his words: I’m uncomfortable, please leave. He planned to take her to a nice restaurant after they made love. Instead, he ordered something after she finally got the hint and left, eating alone like always.
After her, he deleted his profile (again) and resolved to never bother with dating again. Obviously there was something wrong with him. He saw guys who were uglier and more awkward than him with girlfriends, some actually stunning, but there was something about him in particular, something that repelled women…and men too.
Everyone.
It repelled everyone.
Maybe it was his self-loathing. After all, no one likes a sad sack. But that’s the thing: He was like this because of those experiences. It was a what came first, the chicken or the egg situation. Looking back, he had almost normal confidence at one point. Then all of this happened. The hundreds of messages he sent on the dating apps staying on read, unanswered, like he never sent them at all, like he was garbage unworthy of even a hello. The awkward dates. The occasional “success” that eventually fell apart…sometimes because of him, and sometimes because of them. The one girl who ran away from him when he tried to walk her to her car after a date. They didn’t click, he knew that, but he didn’t say or do anything creepy. Why did she do that? The girls who lead him on, talking about sex and sometimes even love but always had a reason they couldn’t meet.
There were other examples - many others - but it was all the same. Who cared?
Dom wanted to crawl back into his hole and stay there, to stop poking his head out and getting hurt. He wanted it so bad…but he was only human. Deep down, buried beneath layer after layer of scar tissue, there was still hope. Hope for love, for companionship, for acceptance, for intimacy and human touch. It was only an ember now, but even an ember is enough to spark a fire.
Some nights, he wanted to be safe. Other nights, he wanted to take a risk.
And this night was one of the latter.
Be there soon, he texted. He swallowed hard and wetted his lips. His heart was pounding faster and his bowels were loose. He really hoped this worked out. He didn’t think he could handle another rejection. If she turned him down, he’d probably go home and kill himself. Why go on like this?
He’d had that thought before…but he never followed through.
Maybe one day he’d actually shut the fuck up and do it already.
Maybe.
Ok :)
Her name was Heather and she was fat. She was not unattractive in the face and she wore her weight well, not that that mattered - he would take what he could get. They started talking on OKCupid last week and very soon, the conversation became sexual. He didn’t start it, though, she did. She was ahem very excited, she said. He liked to think that she was lonely, desperate, and wanted intimacy - any intimacy - just like him.
That really turned him on.
They agreed to meet, and now here he was, on the bus to her apartment on the other side of the city, hoping against hope that she didn’t hurt him too.
He put the phone away and stared straight ahead. The bus was nearly deserted, save for an old bag lady up front and a few Mexican guys in the back. Lights lined the bus’s roof, providing a cold, impersonal light. Dom took a deep breath and forced his dark emotions away. It was all on him to make this work. He would accept her fat, ugly, poor, and crippled, but he had to work to earn her love. He could do it.
When the bus finally reached his stop, he yanked the cord and got off. There was a plexiglass shelter lit by a single, lonely bulb. Trash littered the ground. Beyond the shelter, a park lay in darkness. Behind him, on the other side of the road, a housing project not unlike his own towered into the sky, lit up like a ship at sail. Dom swallowed his nerves and crossed the street. He found the door that she had directed him to use, and climbed the stairs. He expected trash, graffiti, and winos passed out on every landing. Instead, the stairwell was clean and deserted. His nerves welled as he climbed but he forced them down again. On the ninth floor, he went down the hall, battered on all sides by the stale smells of cooking and the murmur of TVs and voices coming from every apartment.
Dom paused at Apartment 237.
Heather’s.
You got this, he told himself.
And really, he did. Their plan - well, Heather’s, really - was simple and straightforward. She told him that she would leave the door unlocked. He was to come in, go to the bedroom, and she would be waiting for him. She said it was a fantasy of hers.
On some level, he knew all along that the whole setup sounded fishy. Was he being set up to get robbed? Would he walk in and get jumped by a bunch of Crips? He hesitated, but his need for love - and, yes, release - pushed him on.
He opened the door.
Inside, the apartment was small and messy, a living room to the right and a tiny kitchen to the left. The only light on was the one above the stove.
Everything else was in shadows.
Dom’s heart skipped a beat.
This didn’t feel right.
That thought was overpowered by the smell, a sickly sweet odor that suddenly seemed to be everywhere. His stomach twisted and he turned his head slightly to one side, as if to spare his nose. It smelled like something spoiled.
A voice spoke from the darkness, startling him. “I’m in here.”
It was light, airy, and cute.
For the last time, Dom hesitated. Some primal sense told him to turn around and leave…
…but he wanted to be loved.
Dom entered and shut the door behind him.
The smell was stronger. The atmosphere darker.
Ahead, he could barely make out an open doorway in the shadows.
He crossed to it.
The smell was overpowering here and Dom felt like he was going to puke. Any desire he had felt was gone, replaced only by revulsion and claustrophobia. It was cold, he realized, so cold that his teeth chattered.
Okay, fuck this.
He started to turn around, intent on leaving, but a small, white hand reached from the darkness. Icy fingertips brushed his cheek and his heart blasted into his throat.
Then she was there, her body pressing against his and her lips fused with his. The smell, the freezer chill, both stronger than ever.
They were both coming from her.
Her tongue hungrily lashed his own, and she pushed him against the wall. Her hands slipped under his shirt and pressed flat against his chest. They were so cold that he almost cried out.
Dom wanted to push her away, to run, but he didn’t. Instead, he froze up and allowed her to push him onto the bed. Was he too gutless to tell her no, the way he’d been too gutless to tell the woman who went on and on about her ex to shut up and leave? Did he secretly want to go through with this? He didn’t know, and he didn’t have time to figure it out. She was on top of him now, straddling him, his legs caged between her ample thighs. She grabbed his hands and pressed them to her bare breasts.
They were as cold as the rest of her.
She leaned down and kissed him again. He hadn’t noticed it before, but her tongue was…dry. Her mouth itself tasted strange. Off.
Heather broke from his lips and peppered kisses on his cheek and forehead, assaulting him with an intimacy that Dom no longer wanted.
Through it all, she was as silent as a tomb. She wasn’t panting or rasping with excitement. In fact, he didn’t think she was even breathing.
She brushed her lips along the exposed curve of his throat, and tingles of revulsion shot down his spine. She found his pulse and kissed it. Trembles of excitement raced through her body and she started to lap his neck like a dog.
Without warning, a fiery pinprick of pain exploded over him and Heather began to shake and pant. Dom cried out and tried to fight her off, but she was too heavy, too much.
With a tiny, mouse-like squeak - a sound of pitiable fear and resignation - Dom blacked out.

What am I doing? Dominick Mason asked himself for the hundredth time that night. It was late on a rainy Sunday evening and Dom, a tall, lanky man-boy of twenty-five with a prominent Adam’s apple and too big eyes, stared out the rain-slicked window of the 905. The big bus swayed and jostled as it lumbered down Central Avenue, the movements strangely comforting, conducive to reflection…and self-doubt.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed, and a pit opened up in his stomach. He fumbled it out with long fingers and read the text. Are u almost here
His thumb hovered over the screen, but he did not reply. Part of him wanted to block the number, slink back home with his tail between his legs, and forget the whole thing. He could boot up his PS4 and play Red Dead Redemption or GTA V like always. Safe. Familiar. The thought, however, stirred a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.
It was dread.
Every night, he did the same thing. He came home from work to his tiny prison cell apartment. He had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He played video games until it was time to go to bed. The worst part of the whole night was when he turned off the TV and saw his murky reflection in the screen. Plaid. Scrawny. Disgusting. He hated being locked in that apartment, with its old smells and white walls, but he hated going out even more. At least in his hole, he was safe, like a mouse. No one hurt or lied to him there. No one gave him funny looks. No one rejected him. He was completely safe in his solitude, a wounded animal hiding in its den and licking its wounds.
He was wounded and he knew it.
And he hated himself for it. Hated that he wasn’t stronger or better. Hated that even though he tried so hard, everything he did fell apart…if it even came together in the first place, which it rarely did.
The phone buzzed again.
Just a question mark this time.
His heart began to race and a steely fist slowly closed around his lungs. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took a deep breath. He pictured himself alone in his little apartment. He loved the image, but he hated it too. Most nights, he didn’t mind being alone. He had to not mind it, because he didn’t have a choice. Some nights…some nights he didn’t want to be alone. Some nights he wanted warmth, he wanted tenderness…some nights, he wanted to be human.
Every so often, Dom would get the urge to find those things. They came less frequently than they did before, but unfortunately, they still came. He would create an account on Plenty of Fish and OKCupid, maybe some of the other sites as well. He would agonize over his stupid intro and his stupid list of hobbies. He would spend hours - literally hours - writing and rewriting them, trying at first to be serious, then light and funny, then cool, then aloof, then vulnerable. He would take the best possible pictures from the best possible angles, then upload them, never lingering over them because he hated the way he looked. He didn’t think he was ugly - mid was more like it - but apparently, he was ugly. Too ugly for love, too ugly even to talk to.
The ugly barnacle. So ugly that everyone died. The end.
All of Dom’s pictures were all selfies, of course. Guys he listened to on YouTube said he needed action shots, shots with friends, shots that showed women he had a life, was valued by those around him, and knew how to have fun. Too bad for him, he had no friends and no one valued him, not even his own mother. On the surface, maybe, but she had hurt him so many times over the years in so many ways that even the most devout son would stop and think.
It had to be selfies.
When his profile was in order - or as much in order as he could get it - he would start to browse. Dom knew his place and never messaged women who were too beautiful. He used to, but they never responded. He eventually began to skip their profiles with a pang of loss and a quiet what if? Now, he barely noticed them. Blonde. Petite. Blue eyes. Maybe she was a cheerleader at one time, maybe she was the type of girl who looked down her nose at guys like him. Maybe she was a sweetheart. In any case, he would never find out, so who cares?
He went for women he could realistically obtain…the type of women he’d dated and hooked up with in the past. Some were attractive in their own way, others were hard to look at, he wasn’t picky; he couldn’t afford to be picky. One woman he saw was a good three hundred pounds. She was nice and he liked her enough, but he lapsed into depression while they were dating and he never messaged her back…not that she made a huge effort to message him. Another was a pre-K teacher in her mid-thirties. Overweight with a big nose, glasses, and a plain face when she wasn’t wearing make-up. He liked her a lot and wanted to be with her, but after a month of weekend hookups, she said she didn’t love him. She told him she wanted a family - three kids, to be exact - but “changed her mind.” No, she didn’t. She just didn’t want those things with him.
Now she was in her late thirties, single, and having regrets.
She still wouldn’t settle for him, though.
Another woman he’d seen recently (six months ago) was fifty, but not unattractive. They texted for weeks, hot and heavy. She outright told him that she wanted to have sex with him. Said all sorts of nasty and sexual things. Their first (and only date) was her coming to his apartment. Instead of tender kisses, loving caresses, and intense emotions, they shared an awkward two hours on his couch. When he tried to hold her hand and put his arm around her, she stiffened. Not much, just a little. She said she “wasn’t ready.” He sat there and watched the flowers he’d gotten her wilt as she talked about her ex for an hour and a half, his arms pointedly crossed. He even leaned as far away from her as humanly possible, trying to communicate with his body language what he didn’t have the guts to communicate with his words: I’m uncomfortable, please leave. He planned to take her to a nice restaurant after they made love. Instead, he ordered something after she finally got the hint and left, eating alone like always.
After her, he deleted his profile (again) and resolved to never bother with dating again. Obviously there was something wrong with him. He saw guys who were uglier and more awkward than him with girlfriends, some actually stunning, but there was something about him in particular, something that repelled women…and men too.
Everyone.
It repelled everyone.
Maybe it was his self-loathing. After all, no one likes a sad sack. But that’s the thing: He was like this because of those experiences. It was a what came first, the chicken or the egg situation. Looking back, he had almost normal confidence at one point. Then all of this happened. The hundreds of messages he sent on the dating apps staying on read, unanswered, like he never sent them at all, like he was garbage unworthy of even a hello. The awkward dates. The occasional “success” that eventually fell apart…sometimes because of him, and sometimes because of them. The one girl who ran away from him when he tried to walk her to her car after a date. They didn’t click, he knew that, but he didn’t say or do anything creepy. Why did she do that? The girls who lead him on, talking about sex and sometimes even love but always had a reason they couldn’t meet.
There were other examples - many others - but it was all the same. Who cared?
Dom wanted to crawl back into his hole and stay there, to stop poking his head out and getting hurt. He wanted it so bad…but he was only human. Deep down, buried beneath layer after layer of scar tissue, there was still hope. Hope for love, for companionship, for acceptance, for intimacy and human touch. It was only an ember now, but even an ember is enough to spark a fire.
Some nights, he wanted to be safe. Other nights, he wanted to take a risk.
And this night was one of the latter.
Be there soon, he texted. He swallowed hard and wetted his lips. His heart was pounding faster and his bowels were loose. He really hoped this worked out. He didn’t think he could handle another rejection. If she turned him down, he’d probably go home and kill himself. Why go on like this?
He’d had that thought before…but he never followed through.
Maybe one day he’d actually shut the fuck up and do it already.
Maybe.
Ok :)
Her name was Heather and she was fat. She was not unattractive in the face and she wore her weight well, not that that mattered - he would take what he could get. They started talking on OKCupid last week and very soon, the conversation became sexual. He didn’t start it, though, she did. She was ahem very excited, she said. He liked to think that she was lonely, desperate, and wanted intimacy - any intimacy - just like him.
That really turned him on.
They agreed to meet, and now here he was, on the bus to her apartment on the other side of the city, hoping against hope that she didn’t hurt him too.
He put the phone away and stared straight ahead. The bus was nearly deserted, save for an old bag lady up front and a few Mexican guys in the back. Lights lined the bus’s roof, providing a cold, impersonal light. Dom took a deep breath and forced his dark emotions away. It was all on him to make this work. He would accept her fat, ugly, poor, and crippled, but he had to work to earn her love. He could do it.
When the bus finally reached his stop, he yanked the cord and got off. There was a plexiglass shelter lit by a single, lonely bulb. Trash littered the ground. Beyond the shelter, a park lay in darkness. Behind him, on the other side of the road, a housing project not unlike his own towered into the sky, lit up like a ship at sail. Dom swallowed his nerves and crossed the street. He found the door that she had directed him to use, and climbed the stairs. He expected trash, graffiti, and winos passed out on every landing. Instead, the stairwell was clean and deserted. His nerves welled as he climbed but he forced them down again. On the ninth floor, he went down the hall, battered on all sides by the stale smells of cooking and the murmur of TVs and voices coming from every apartment.
Dom paused at Apartment 237.
Heather’s.
You got this, he told himself.
And really, he did. Their plan - well, Heather’s, really - was simple and straightforward. She told him that she would leave the door unlocked. He was to come in, go to the bedroom, and she would be waiting for him. She said it was a fantasy of hers.
On some level, he knew all along that the whole setup sounded fishy. Was he being set up to get robbed? Would he walk in and get jumped by a bunch of Crips? He hesitated, but his need for love - and, yes, release - pushed him on.
He opened the door.
Inside, the apartment was small and messy, a living room to the right and a tiny kitchen to the left. The only light on was the one above the stove.
Everything else was in shadows.
Dom’s heart skipped a beat.
This didn’t feel right.
That thought was overpowered by the smell, a sickly sweet odor that suddenly seemed to be everywhere. His stomach twisted and he turned his head slightly to one side, as if to spare his nose. It smelled like something spoiled.
A voice spoke from the darkness, startling him. “I’m in here.”
It was light, airy, and cute.
For the last time, Dom hesitated. Some primal sense told him to turn around and leave…
…but he wanted to be loved.
Dom entered and shut the door behind him.
The smell was stronger. The atmosphere darker.
Ahead, he could barely make out an open doorway in the shadows.
He crossed to it.
The smell was overpowering here and Dom felt like he was going to puke. Any desire he had felt was gone, replaced only by revulsion and claustrophobia. It was cold, he realized, so cold that his teeth chattered.
Okay, fuck this.
He started to turn around, intent on leaving, but a small, white hand reached from the darkness. Icy fingertips brushed his cheek and his heart blasted into his throat.
Then she was there, her body pressing against his and her lips fused with his. The smell, the freezer chill, both stronger than ever.
They were both coming from her.
Her tongue hungrily lashed his own, and she pushed him against the wall. Her hands slipped under his shirt and pressed flat against his chest. They were so cold that he almost cried out.
Dom wanted to push her away, to run, but he didn’t. Instead, he froze up and allowed her to push him onto the bed. Was he too gutless to tell her no, the way he’d been too gutless to tell the woman who went on and on about her ex to shut up and leave? Did he secretly want to go through with this? He didn’t know, and he didn’t have time to figure it out. She was on top of him now, straddling him, his legs caged between her ample thighs. She grabbed his hands and pressed them to her bare breasts.
They were as cold as the rest of her.
She leaned down and kissed him again. He hadn’t noticed it before, but her tongue was…dry. Her mouth itself tasted strange. Off.
Heather broke from his lips and peppered kisses on his cheek and forehead, assaulting him with an intimacy that Dom no longer wanted.
Through it all, she was as silent as a tomb. She wasn’t panting or rasping with excitement. In fact, he didn’t think she was even breathing.
She brushed her lips along the exposed curve of his throat, and tingles of revulsion shot down his spine. She found his pulse and kissed it. Trembles of excitement raced through her body and she started to lap his neck like a dog.
Without warning, a fiery pinprick of pain exploded over him and Heather began to shake and pant. Dom cried out and tried to fight her off, but she was too heavy, too much.
With a tiny, mouse-like squeak - a sound of pitiable fear and resignation - Dom blacked out.

What am I doing? Dominick Mason asked himself for the hundredth time that night. It was late on a rainy Sunday evening and Dom, a tall, lanky man-boy of twenty-five with a prominent Adam’s apple and too big eyes, stared out the rain-slicked window of the 905. The big bus swayed and jostled as it lumbered down Central Avenue, the movements strangely comforting, conducive to reflection…and self-doubt.
As if on cue, his phone buzzed, and a pit opened up in his stomach. He fumbled it out with long fingers and read the text. Are u almost here
His thumb hovered over the screen, but he did not reply. Part of him wanted to block the number, slink back home with his tail between his legs, and forget the whole thing. He could boot up his PS4 and play Red Dead Redemption or GTA V like always. Safe. Familiar. The thought, however, stirred a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach.
It was dread.
Every night, he did the same thing. He came home from work to his tiny prison cell apartment. He had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He played video games until it was time to go to bed. The worst part of the whole night was when he turned off the TV and saw his murky reflection in the screen. Plaid. Scrawny. Disgusting. He hated being locked in that apartment, with its old smells and white walls, but he hated going out even more. At least in his hole, he was safe, like a mouse. No one hurt or lied to him there. No one gave him funny looks. No one rejected him. He was completely safe in his solitude, a wounded animal hiding in its den and licking its wounds.
He was wounded and he knew it.
And he hated himself for it. Hated that he wasn’t stronger or better. Hated that even though he tried so hard, everything he did fell apart…if it even came together in the first place, which it rarely did.
The phone buzzed again.
Just a question mark this time.
His heart began to race and a steely fist slowly closed around his lungs. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and took a deep breath. He pictured himself alone in his little apartment. He loved the image, but he hated it too. Most nights, he didn’t mind being alone. He had to not mind it, because he didn’t have a choice. Some nights…some nights he didn’t want to be alone. Some nights he wanted warmth, he wanted tenderness…some nights, he wanted to be human.
Every so often, Dom would get the urge to find those things. They came less frequently than they did before, but unfortunately, they still came. He would create an account on Plenty of Fish and OKCupid, maybe some of the other sites as well. He would agonize over his stupid intro and his stupid list of hobbies. He would spend hours - literally hours - writing and rewriting them, trying at first to be serious, then light and funny, then cool, then aloof, then vulnerable. He would take the best possible pictures from the best possible angles, then upload them, never lingering over them because he hated the way he looked. He didn’t think he was ugly - mid was more like it - but apparently, he was ugly. Too ugly for love, too ugly even to talk to.
The ugly barnacle. So ugly that everyone died. The end.
All of Dom’s pictures were all selfies, of course. Guys he listened to on YouTube said he needed action shots, shots with friends, shots that showed women he had a life, was valued by those around him, and knew how to have fun. Too bad for him, he had no friends and no one valued him, not even his own mother. On the surface, maybe, but she had hurt him so many times over the years in so many ways that even the most devout son would stop and think.
It had to be selfies.
When his profile was in order - or as much in order as he could get it - he would start to browse. Dom knew his place and never messaged women who were too beautiful. He used to, but they never responded. He eventually began to skip their profiles with a pang of loss and a quiet what if? Now, he barely noticed them. Blonde. Petite. Blue eyes. Maybe she was a cheerleader at one time, maybe she was the type of girl who looked down her nose at guys like him. Maybe she was a sweetheart. In any case, he would never find out, so who cares?
He went for women he could realistically obtain…the type of women he’d dated and hooked up with in the past. Some were attractive in their own way, others were hard to look at, he wasn’t picky; he couldn’t afford to be picky. One woman he saw was a good three hundred pounds. She was nice and he liked her enough, but he lapsed into depression while they were dating and he never messaged her back…not that she made a huge effort to message him. Another was a pre-K teacher in her mid-thirties. Overweight with a big nose, glasses, and a plain face when she wasn’t wearing make-up. He liked her a lot and wanted to be with her, but after a month of weekend hookups, she said she didn’t love him. She told him she wanted a family - three kids, to be exact - but “changed her mind.” No, she didn’t. She just didn’t want those things with him.
Now she was in her late thirties, single, and having regrets.
She still wouldn’t settle for him, though.
Another woman he’d seen recently (six months ago) was fifty, but not unattractive. They texted for weeks, hot and heavy. She outright told him that she wanted to have sex with him. Said all sorts of nasty and sexual things. Their first (and only date) was her coming to his apartment. Instead of tender kisses, loving caresses, and intense emotions, they shared an awkward two hours on his couch. When he tried to hold her hand and put his arm around her, she stiffened. Not much, just a little. She said she “wasn’t ready.” He sat there and watched the flowers he’d gotten her wilt as she talked about her ex for an hour and a half, his arms pointedly crossed. He even leaned as far away from her as humanly possible, trying to communicate with his body language what he didn’t have the guts to communicate with his words: I’m uncomfortable, please leave. He planned to take her to a nice restaurant after they made love. Instead, he ordered something after she finally got the hint and left, eating alone like always.
After her, he deleted his profile (again) and resolved to never bother with dating again. Obviously there was something wrong with him. He saw guys who were uglier and more awkward than him with girlfriends, some actually stunning, but there was something about him in particular, something that repelled women…and men too.
Everyone.
It repelled everyone.
Maybe it was his self-loathing. After all, no one likes a sad sack. But that’s the thing: He was like this because of those experiences. It was a what came first, the chicken or the egg situation. Looking back, he had almost normal confidence at one point. Then all of this happened. The hundreds of messages he sent on the dating apps staying on read, unanswered, like he never sent them at all, like he was garbage unworthy of even a hello. The awkward dates. The occasional “success” that eventually fell apart…sometimes because of him, and sometimes because of them. The one girl who ran away from him when he tried to walk her to her car after a date. They didn’t click, he knew that, but he didn’t say or do anything creepy. Why did she do that? The girls who lead him on, talking about sex and sometimes even love but always had a reason they couldn’t meet.
There were other examples - many others - but it was all the same. Who cared?
Dom wanted to crawl back into his hole and stay there, to stop poking his head out and getting hurt. He wanted it so bad…but he was only human. Deep down, buried beneath layer after layer of scar tissue, there was still hope. Hope for love, for companionship, for acceptance, for intimacy and human touch. It was only an ember now, but even an ember is enough to spark a fire.
Some nights, he wanted to be safe. Other nights, he wanted to take a risk.
And this night was one of the latter.
Be there soon, he texted. He swallowed hard and wetted his lips. His heart was pounding faster and his bowels were loose. He really hoped this worked out. He didn’t think he could handle another rejection. If she turned him down, he’d probably go home and kill himself. Why go on like this?
He’d had that thought before…but he never followed through.
Maybe one day he’d actually shut the fuck up and do it already.
Maybe.
Ok :)
Her name was Heather and she was fat. She was not unattractive in the face and she wore her weight well, not that that mattered - he would take what he could get. They started talking on OKCupid last week and very soon, the conversation became sexual. He didn’t start it, though, she did. She was ahem very excited, she said. He liked to think that she was lonely, desperate, and wanted intimacy - any intimacy - just like him.
That really turned him on.
They agreed to meet, and now here he was, on the bus to her apartment on the other side of the city, hoping against hope that she didn’t hurt him too.
He put the phone away and stared straight ahead. The bus was nearly deserted, save for an old bag lady up front and a few Mexican guys in the back. Lights lined the bus’s roof, providing a cold, impersonal light. Dom took a deep breath and forced his dark emotions away. It was all on him to make this work. He would accept her fat, ugly, poor, and crippled, but he had to work to earn her love. He could do it.
When the bus finally reached his stop, he yanked the cord and got off. There was a plexiglass shelter lit by a single, lonely bulb. Trash littered the ground. Beyond the shelter, a park lay in darkness. Behind him, on the other side of the road, a housing project not unlike his own towered into the sky, lit up like a ship at sail. Dom swallowed his nerves and crossed the street. He found the door that she had directed him to use, and climbed the stairs. He expected trash, graffiti, and winos passed out on every landing. Instead, the stairwell was clean and deserted. His nerves welled as he climbed but he forced them down again. On the ninth floor, he went down the hall, battered on all sides by the stale smells of cooking and the murmur of TVs and voices coming from every apartment.
Dom paused at Apartment 237.
Heather’s.
You got this, he told himself.
And really, he did. Their plan - well, Heather’s, really - was simple and straightforward. She told him that she would leave the door unlocked. He was to come in, go to the bedroom, and she would be waiting for him. She said it was a fantasy of hers.
On some level, he knew all along that the whole setup sounded fishy. Was he being set up to get robbed? Would he walk in and get jumped by a bunch of Crips? He hesitated, but his need for love - and, yes, release - pushed him on.
He opened the door.
Inside, the apartment was small and messy, a living room to the right and a tiny kitchen to the left. The only light on was the one above the stove.
Everything else was in shadows.
Dom’s heart skipped a beat.
This didn’t feel right.
That thought was overpowered by the smell, a sickly sweet odor that suddenly seemed to be everywhere. His stomach twisted and he turned his head slightly to one side, as if to spare his nose. It smelled like something spoiled.
A voice spoke from the darkness, startling him. “I’m in here.”
It was light, airy, and cute.
For the last time, Dom hesitated. Some primal sense told him to turn around and leave…
…but he wanted to be loved.
Dom entered and shut the door behind him.
The smell was stronger. The atmosphere darker.
Ahead, he could barely make out an open doorway in the shadows.
He crossed to it.
The smell was overpowering here and Dom felt like he was going to puke. Any desire he had felt was gone, replaced only by revulsion and claustrophobia. It was cold, he realized, so cold that his teeth chattered.
Okay, fuck this.
He started to turn around, intent on leaving, but a small, white hand reached from the darkness. Icy fingertips brushed his cheek and his heart blasted into his throat.
Then she was there, her body pressing against his and her lips fused with his. The smell, the freezer chill, both stronger than ever.
They were both coming from her.
Her tongue hungrily lashed his own, and she pushed him against the wall. Her hands slipped under his shirt and pressed flat against his chest. They were so cold that he almost cried out.
Dom wanted to push her away, to run, but he didn’t. Instead, he froze up and allowed her to push him onto the bed. Was he too gutless to tell her no, the way he’d been too gutless to tell the woman who went on and on about her ex to shut up and leave? Did he secretly want to go through with this? He didn’t know, and he didn’t have time to figure it out. She was on top of him now, straddling him, his legs caged between her ample thighs. She grabbed his hands and pressed them to her bare breasts.
They were as cold as the rest of her.
She leaned down and kissed him again. He hadn’t noticed it before, but her tongue was…dry. Her mouth itself tasted strange. Off.
Heather broke from his lips and peppered kisses on his cheek and forehead, assaulting him with an intimacy that Dom no longer wanted.
Through it all, she was as silent as a tomb. She wasn’t panting or rasping with excitement. In fact, he didn’t think she was even breathing.
She brushed her lips along the exposed curve of his throat, and tingles of revulsion shot down his spine. She found his pulse and kissed it. Trembles of excitement raced through her body and she started to lap his neck like a dog.
Without warning, a fiery pinprick of pain exploded over him and Heather began to shake and pant. Dom cried out and tried to fight her off, but she was too heavy, too much.
With a tiny, mouse-like squeak - a sound of pitiable fear and resignation - Dom blacked out.

DAY: DAY: MAY 12, 2024

• 5-12-2024CAN I TAKE YOUR ORDER—AND YOUR DATA? THE HIDDEN REASON RETAILERS ARE REPLACING STAFF WITH AI BOTS You might have seen viral videos of Wendy’s drive-thru customers in the United States ordering their fast food from the firm’s generative AI bot Wendy’s FreshAI. Most show a very human-like transaction punctuated with cries of amazement at how fast, accurate and polite the system is. While the system and others like it are in their infancy, and some still rely heavily on human assistance, retailers are investing huge sums in AI to replace human workers. Why the rush to automate? It might seem like it’s all about slashing
• 5-12-2024AI FILM FESTIVAL GIVES GLIMPSE OF CINEMA’S FUTURE With fantastical characters including mud people and giant grandmothers, an AI film festival is giving a glimpse of the storytelling made possible by the novel technology. Nearly 3,000 short films were submitted to the festival organized by Runway AI, one of the leading start-ups in the field of AI-powered video generation. The 10 films selected put the filmmakers’ vivid imaginations on display, with their stories set in aesthetically stunning universes. “There is a perception of … AI- driven filmmaking and creation as having a very specific style
• 5-12-2024AI SYSTEMS ARE ALREADY SKILLED AT DECEIVING AND MANIPULATING HUMANS, STUDY SHOWS Many artificial intelligence (AI) systems have already learned how to deceive humans, even systems that have been trained to be helpful and honest. In a review article published in the journal Patterns on May 10, researchers describe the risks of deception by AI systems and call for governments to develop strong regulations to address this issue as soon as possible. “AI developers do not have a confident understanding of what causes undesirable AI behaviors
• 5-12-2024THE END OF THE PACKAGE HOLIDAY PROVIDER? BLOCKCHAIN TECHNOLOGY COULD REVOLUTIONIZE TRAVEL EXPERIENCES Forget the middleman—blockchain technology could lead to the end of the traditional package holiday provider, putting power back into the hands of customers, according to a new study from the University of Surrey. The research looked into user acceptance of blockchain-based sharing platforms similar to Airbnb. The study found that blockchain technology could eliminate intermediaries, such as holiday providers, potentially slashing costs by bypassing booking platforms. The study also suggests that property owners stand to gain from blockchain adoption and gain more direct income
• 5-12-2024NOW THEY FEAR IT WAS A SCAM Sleep-deprived and anxious about feeding their babies, tens of thousands of moms in Illinois and elsewhere recently turned to a variety of Facebook groups offering support for breastfeeding, pumping breast milk and postpartum care. Direct responses were often remarkably prompt from the creator and admin of these groups, a Facebook user named “Cathy Marie Chan,” whose profile featured a smiling picture of a woman purporting to be a board-certified lactation consultant
• 5-12-2024HERE ARE FOUR RED FLAGS TO WATCH FOR IN YOUR CHATBOT ‘FRIEND’ It’s been seven years since the launch of Replika, an artificially intelligent chatbot designed to be a friend to human users. Despite early warnings about the dangers of such AI friends, interest in friendships and even romantic relationships with AI is on the rise. The Google Play store shows more than 30 million total downloads of Replika and two of its major competitors since their respective launches. With one in four people around the world reporting being lonely, it is no wonder so many are drawn to the promise
• 5-12-2024CALL FOR SAFEGUARDS TO PREVENT UNWANTED ‘HAUNTINGS’ BY AI CHATBOTS OF DEAD LOVED ONES Without design safety standards, artificial intelligence that allows users to hold text and voice conversations with lost loved ones runs the risk of causing psychological harm and even digitally “haunting” those left behind, according to University of Cambridge researchers. “Deadbots” or “Griefbots” are AI chatbots that simulate the language patterns and personality traits of the dead
• 5-12-2024TURING TEST STUDY SHOWS HUMANS RATE ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE AS MORE ‘MORAL’ THAN OTHER PEOPLE A new study has found that when people are presented with two answers to an ethical question, most will think the answer from artificial intelligence (AI) is better than the response from another person. “Attributions Toward Artificial Agents in a Modified Moral Turing Test
• 5-12-2024FAKE US SCHOOL AUDIO STOKES AI ALARM The fabricated audio clip of the Maryland school principal underscores the ease with which widely available AI and editing tools can be misused to impersonate celebrities and everyday citizens alike. A fabricated audio clip of a US high school principal prompted a torrent of outrage, leaving him battling allegations of racism and anti-Semitism in a case that has sparked new alarm about AI manipulation. Police charged a disgruntled staff member at the Maryland school with manufacturing the recording that surfaced in January
• 5-12-2024ELECTRONIC MUSIC WITH A HUMAN RHYTHM
• 5-12-2024RESEARCHERS TEST AI SYSTEMS’ ABILITY TO SOLVE THE NEW YORK TIMES’ CONNECTIONS PUZZLE
• 5-12-2024SCIENTISTS CONVERT CHICKEN FAT INTO ENERGY STORAGE DEVICES
• 5-12-2024RED, YELLOW, GREEN … AND WHITE? SMARTER VEHICLES COULD MEAN BIG CHANGES FOR THE TRAFFIC LIGHT
• 5-12-2024FRENCH ART GROUP USES BRAINWAVES AND AI TO RECREATE LANDSCAPES
• 5-12-2024MICROSOFT, AMAZON TO INVEST BILLIONS IN FRENCH TECH
• 5-12-2024NEW RESEARCH SHOWS HOW CHILD-LIKE LANGUAGE LEARNING IS POSSIBLE USING AI TOOLS
• 5-12-2024TEAM DESIGNS ROBOTS TO HELP WITH HUMAN HABITATION IN SPACE
• 5-12-2024TRADING BETWEEN HOUSEHOLDS IN SMART ENERGY COMMUNITIES
• 5-12-2024RESEARCHERS DEVELOP AI-POWERED ‘EYE’ FOR VISUALLY IMPAIRED PEOPLE TO ‘SEE’ OBJECTS
• 5-12-2024RESEARCHERS DEVELOP A BIOMECHANICAL DATASET FOR BADMINTON PERFORMANCE ANALYSIS
• 5-12-2024AMAZON’S NEW FEES ON SELLERS LIKENED TO ‘KICK IN THE GUT’
• 5-12-2024ALMOST HALF OF IT COULD COME FROM PENNSYLVANIA WASTEWATER
• 5-12-2024NEW LARGE LEARNING MODEL SHOWS HOW AI MIGHT SHAPE LGBTQIA+ ADVOCACY
• 5-12-2024RESEARCHER EXPLAINS WHY WE SHOULD CARE MORE ABOUT CONVERGING TECHNOLOGIES
• 5-12-2024COMMERCIAL JET MAKER AIRBUS IS STAYING HUMBLE EVEN AS BOEING FLOUNDERS. THERE’S A REASON FOR THAT
• 5-12-2024BOLSTER SAFEGUARDS AFTER HEALTH CARE CYBERATTACK
• 5-12-2024HUNDREDS OF CITIES HAVE ACHIEVED ZERO ROAD DEATHS IN A YEAR—HERE’S HOW THEY DID IT
• 5-12-2024DIGITAL HUMAN MODEL AIDS DESIGN OF MOTORCYCLES, BASED ON RIDING POSTURE
• 5-12-2024AI TECHNOLOGY IS SHOWING CULTURAL BIASES—HERE’S WHY AND WHAT CAN BE DONE
• 5-12-2024RESEARCH SHOWS VR POSES PRIVACY RISKS FOR KIDS—PARENTS AREN’T AS WORRIED AS THEY SHOULD BE
• 5-12-2024NEW SOFTWARE TRAINED ON PHOTOGRAPHIC DATABASE MAY ALLOW FACIAL RECOGNITION BENEATH THE MASK
• 5-12-2024SMARTPHONE APP CAN UNMASK FORGED DOCUMENTS
• 5-12-2024NEW STUDY FINDS AI-GENERATED EMPATHY HAS ITS LIMITS
• 5-12-2024ROBOTIC SYSTEM FEEDS PEOPLE WITH SEVERE MOBILITY LIMITATIONS
• 5-12-2024PROTOTYPE BROWSER EXTENSION ADDS WIKIPEDIA-LIKE CITATIONS ON YOUTUBE TO CURB MISINFORMATION
• 5-12-2024SAMSUNG TO BUY FRENCH MEDICAL AI FIRM SONIO
• 5-12-2024AI AND HOLOGRAPHY BRING 3D AUGMENTED REALITY TO REGULAR GLASSES
• 5-12-2024DOVE’S LATEST ‘REAL BEAUTY’ DRIVE—AND WHY AI WILL BE HARDER TO DITCH THAN IT THINKS
• 5-12-2024RESEARCH CASTS NEW LIGHT ON BIKE SAFETY IN THE AGE OF SELF-DRIVING CARS
• 5-12-2024A SECOND LIFE FOR DISCARDED LITHIUM-ION CELLS
• 5-12-2024SINCE TESLA RECALLED ITS VEHICLES IN 2023, THERE HAVE BEEN 20 ACCIDENTS AND INVESTIGATORS ARE ASKING WHY

MAY 12, 2024

• 5-12-2024CAN I TAKE YOUR ORDER—AND YOUR DATA? THE HIDDEN REASON RETAILERS ARE REPLACING STAFF WITH AI BOTS
• 5-12-2024AI FILM FESTIVAL GIVES GLIMPSE OF CINEMA’S FUTURE
• 5-12-2024AI SYSTEMS ARE ALREADY SKILLED AT DECEIVING AND MANIPULATING HUMANS, STUDY SHOWS
• 5-12-2024THE END OF THE PACKAGE HOLIDAY PROVIDER? BLOCKCHAIN TECHNOLOGY COULD REVOLUTIONIZE TRAVEL EXPERIENCES
• 5-12-2024NOW THEY FEAR IT WAS A SCAM
• 5-12-2024HERE ARE FOUR RED FLAGS TO WATCH FOR IN YOUR CHATBOT ‘FRIEND’
• 5-12-2024CALL FOR SAFEGUARDS TO PREVENT UNWANTED ‘HAUNTINGS’ BY AI CHATBOTS OF DEAD LOVED ONES
• 5-12-2024TURING TEST STUDY SHOWS HUMANS RATE ARTIFICIAL INTELLIGENCE AS MORE ‘MORAL’ THAN OTHER PEOPLE
• 5-12-2024FAKE US SCHOOL AUDIO STOKES AI ALARM
• 5-12-2024ELECTRONIC MUSIC WITH A HUMAN RHYTHM
• 5-12-2024RESEARCHERS TEST AI SYSTEMS’ ABILITY TO SOLVE THE NEW YORK TIMES’ CONNECTIONS PUZZLE
• 5-12-2024SCIENTISTS CONVERT CHICKEN FAT INTO ENERGY STORAGE DEVICES
• 5-12-2024RED, YELLOW, GREEN … AND WHITE? SMARTER VEHICLES COULD MEAN BIG CHANGES FOR THE TRAFFIC LIGHT
• 5-12-2024FRENCH ART GROUP USES BRAINWAVES AND AI TO RECREATE LANDSCAPES
• 5-12-2024MICROSOFT, AMAZON TO INVEST BILLIONS IN FRENCH TECH
• 5-12-2024NEW RESEARCH SHOWS HOW CHILD-LIKE LANGUAGE LEARNING IS POSSIBLE USING AI TOOLS
• 5-12-2024TEAM DESIGNS ROBOTS TO HELP WITH HUMAN HABITATION IN SPACE
• 5-12-2024TRADING BETWEEN HOUSEHOLDS IN SMART ENERGY COMMUNITIES
• 5-12-2024RESEARCHERS DEVELOP AI-POWERED ‘EYE’ FOR VISUALLY IMPAIRED PEOPLE TO ‘SEE’ OBJECTS
• 5-12-2024RESEARCHERS DEVELOP A BIOMECHANICAL DATASET FOR BADMINTON PERFORMANCE ANALYSIS
• 5-12-2024AMAZON’S NEW FEES ON SELLERS LIKENED TO ‘KICK IN THE GUT’
• 5-12-2024ALMOST HALF OF IT COULD COME FROM PENNSYLVANIA WASTEWATER
• 5-12-2024NEW LARGE LEARNING MODEL SHOWS HOW AI MIGHT SHAPE LGBTQIA+ ADVOCACY
• 5-12-2024RESEARCHER EXPLAINS WHY WE SHOULD CARE MORE ABOUT CONVERGING TECHNOLOGIES
• 5-12-2024COMMERCIAL JET MAKER AIRBUS IS STAYING HUMBLE EVEN AS BOEING FLOUNDERS. THERE’S A REASON FOR THAT
• 5-12-2024BOLSTER SAFEGUARDS AFTER HEALTH CARE CYBERATTACK
• 5-12-2024HUNDREDS OF CITIES HAVE ACHIEVED ZERO ROAD DEATHS IN A YEAR—HERE’S HOW THEY DID IT
• 5-12-2024DIGITAL HUMAN MODEL AIDS DESIGN OF MOTORCYCLES, BASED ON RIDING POSTURE
• 5-12-2024AI TECHNOLOGY IS SHOWING CULTURAL BIASES—HERE’S WHY AND WHAT CAN BE DONE
• 5-12-2024RESEARCH SHOWS VR POSES PRIVACY RISKS FOR KIDS—PARENTS AREN’T AS WORRIED AS THEY SHOULD BE
• 5-12-2024NEW SOFTWARE TRAINED ON PHOTOGRAPHIC DATABASE MAY ALLOW FACIAL RECOGNITION BENEATH THE MASK
• 5-12-2024SMARTPHONE APP CAN UNMASK FORGED DOCUMENTS
• 5-12-2024NEW STUDY FINDS AI-GENERATED EMPATHY HAS ITS LIMITS
• 5-12-2024ROBOTIC SYSTEM FEEDS PEOPLE WITH SEVERE MOBILITY LIMITATIONS
• 5-12-2024PROTOTYPE BROWSER EXTENSION ADDS WIKIPEDIA-LIKE CITATIONS ON YOUTUBE TO CURB MISINFORMATION
• 5-12-2024SAMSUNG TO BUY FRENCH MEDICAL AI FIRM SONIO
• 5-12-2024AI AND HOLOGRAPHY BRING 3D AUGMENTED REALITY TO REGULAR GLASSES
• 5-12-2024DOVE’S LATEST ‘REAL BEAUTY’ DRIVE—AND WHY AI WILL BE HARDER TO DITCH THAN IT THINKS
• 5-12-2024RESEARCH CASTS NEW LIGHT ON BIKE SAFETY IN THE AGE OF SELF-DRIVING CARS
• 5-12-2024A SECOND LIFE FOR DISCARDED LITHIUM-ION CELLS
• 5-12-2024SINCE TESLA RECALLED ITS VEHICLES IN 2023, THERE HAVE BEEN 20 ACCIDENTS AND INVESTIGATORS ARE ASKING WHY

Keto beginner here. I am on week 3 of Keto and I am amazed at how I feel. I have tried several different diet programs but I have never been able to get past the fatigue/headaches that seems to come with the beginning of every diet. Keto is the first diet where I feel energized and motivated to consider this as a potential lifestyle, not just a quick way to lose weight.
I am 26M and started at 250lbs. I am very active through my job, lots of walking and lifting. Today marks the end of week 3 and I weighed in this morning at 229lbs!! While I am excited about the numbers, I am somewhat skeptical that such a drastic jump is actually healthy for me.
All that said, I would like to confirm with all the pros here that what I am doing is in fact keto and not a complicated way of starving myself.
My daily calorie count has been anywhere from 700-1100. Normally in a day I will eat 2 eggs for breakfast with 1/4cup shredded cheese. I will then have cut up summer sausage(1/4 cup) with a handful of almonds. Dinner most nights has consisted of 4oz chicken(raw weight) with green beans/broccoli. I have gotten to the point where my appetite is almost nonexistent and most things besides the listed above make me nauseous to think about. I have started needing to almost force myself to eat because I feel like my body needs something and not because I’m hungry. There have been several days where eggs, cheese and a can of green beans(and a multivitamin) were all that I would eat in a day.
I am complaining about none of the above, I am actually quite excited that Keto is becoming easier and easier for me to stick to. I just want to check with the Keto pros and make sure that the way I am dropping weight is normal and healthy.
I know this a long post, thanks to all who made it this far. Any advice on things I can do better is much appreciated!!

Y'all what is your order from best to worst of all the husbands/boyfriends of the main 4 (Susan, Lynette, Gabi, Bree). I think the options are (this is not my ranking): Carlos, Mike, rex, Orson, walking midlife crisis (Tom), Ian, Karl, trip, that chicken lipped albino (victor), Keith, Jackson, george, and I think it's fair to include Rick, John ig
Edit: forgot Dr Ron
Forgot to include my actual ranking too (I don't think it's fair to break up Carlos and Orson to pre and post time jump):
Orson - sassy and amazing. Has all of the best one liners in the show. So entertaining. Hit Mike with his car (hilarious)
Keith- hot
John- cutie pie/victim.
Tripp
Dr Ron - actually holds Susan accountable for her drama which is amazing
Rick- love him mostly cause I hate Tom
Mike- no reason to hate him which is why he ranks so high but there aren't many reasons to love him either. god he's just so boring
Jackson- soooo boring
Ian- falls into the category of "is he hot or does he just have a British accent?" Also boring. Also slut shamed Susan for how many people she'd been with
Karl- terrible but at least he's funny ?
Rex- idk I barely remember this guy. I loved the voiceover episode he did when he said he was glad he was dead. He's like equal to Karl for me
Carlos- was physically abusive to Gabi and pressured her to have kids even tho she made it clear before they got married that she didn't want them but he did send Danny Trejo to take care of her so he gets some points for that
Victor- you cannot convince me this old man was able to score Gabi. Stop it
Tom- nothing redeemable about this tool. Pathetic loser who forces his wife to act like his mom then feels immaculate by the circumstances he created for himself
George- so fun to watch but obviously he's psycho. Loves when he pushed the therapist off the bridge
Edit 2: guys who reported me to Reddit cares lmfao

Full time electrician so Im always moving. Cutting back on beer, and fast food.
Going to add 30-1 hour of intense running as I used to be a half n full marathon runner in highschool, but lost it and let myself go in the begining of my career.
How many calories should I intake with one meal a day for dinner with this form of exercise and work?