26M here. By golly, I watch way too much pornography for my own good. The worst part is I think the I think this stuff is at the root of a lot of confidence issues that I have in my life. It's actually astounding how noticeably better I feel after 3-4 days of random abstaining, however, I plunge myself right back in time and time again. I recognize that a path to victory over porn addiction is to just tell everyone I'm addicted to porn but I just can't (won't) bring myself to do so. I find it as something I should overcome alone, because unlike other conflicts, the image of myself "battling" my problems is, in reality, just me tugging on my shit alone on my bed. I have 3 roommates and a dog for crying out loud. It's embarrassing that I'm in my room mashing it.
I'd say the worst part of porn addiction is knowing that I'm sacrificing this time, energy, and effort into something completely ridiculous instead of dating, hobbies, etc. . I do just well enough for myself in my day-to-day where this thankfully isn't getting in the way of more immediate concerns like my physical health and financial security, but this has totally become a void of which I release valuable social energy into. I find it so tough to talk to women because of the pornification of my brain that has happened over the past 15 years. I lose interest so quickly if it's not immediately clear we'll be sleeping together. Worst yet, porn has affected how I view and value women and men alike. I value women almost purely on looks and the formula in terms of how it impacts me is simple - the more beautiful they are, the more scared of them I am. I just don't have the testosterone in my body at any given time to pounce upon opportunities and I end up just missing out on a lot of beautiful moments in my life to instead go back to the eternal dopamine fountain that is pornography. I then see myself as lesser to other men and unsure in their presence as I am jealous of their seeming ability to just, honestly, talk to women lol. But more than that, initiate conversations with women. I figured I'd be not scared to do that as I got older but I've only become more timid, and I think porn is definitely a sizeable reason as to why I feel timid, because let's face it, my brain needs to heal from this shit. It's also because I view women from a hypser-sexualized lens and basically subconsciously sift them into two camps into my brain - would have sex with and would not have sex with. Basically, porn has made me timid (less testosterone, hyper-sexualization of women), which has made it more difficult (read impossible) for me to initiate conversations with women, which makes me feel bad because I'm not "getting with a hot girl", and in turns makes me feel lessar as a man relative to the men who get with said "hot girls". I mask it well and you'd honestly not suspect me of having this slurry of thoughts in my brain constantly. I'm 6ft, most would agree more attractive than not, and am physically fit but GODDAMN am I just a timid man on the inside. This timidity is the worst part and I don't want this addiction to rob me of my fading youth and my capacity to take risks. Basically, this timidity has made me more risk-averse, and in tandem with that, more scared to take the risks, that if they pay out, would have an outstandingly positive affect on my life. But here I am jerking it. I'm tired of it and I owe it to myself to get out of this rut.
I'm sure a lot of you can sympathize with some of the words I just vomited out and I appreciate anyone reading this far into this post. I'm not even sure there's anything here that can spark a fruitful conversation. I'm treating this as a first step in just owning and recognizing my addiction. I want to stop but I'm scared of the absolute terms that come with saying "I'm stopping" because when I fail it can make it feel worse that I broke a promise to myself. But what I will confidently say is that 1) I hate what this shit has done to me over the years and 2) I want to beat it and live without it.
Stay blessed y'all - there's always a light and I guess this is just me reconnecting with mine.

Sorry in advance for any errors, English is not my native language.
As a background, I was diagnosed with chronic depression and has been prescribed with an anti-depressant although I frequently forget to take it. Even prior to pregnancy, I am an extremely anxious person. I am the kind of person who thinks that I cannot be too happy else something really bad might happen after.
So just the other day, I purchased a tour package for our family composed of me (F31), husband (M31), my parents (MF63) and sister (30) husband's mom (66), and my toddler who will be 23 months by date of travel.
Now, I feel this crippling anxiety and I almost broke down to tears just thinking that something wrong might happen with the trip. The anxiety is almost suffocating me and robbing me of the feeling to be excited. I don't know if it is a gut feeling that I should follow or if this is plain terrible anxiety.
I also suddenly dread airplanes. I'm not new to riding the plane, and I even enjoy riding planes so this feeling of anxiety is new to me. I guess the only difference is this is the first time that I will be traveling with my child, and also the first time that I'll be traveling with immediate family members.
I keep thinking over and over again, what if our plane crashes? Did I just doom my family? Each time I scroll through my phone and see something related to plane crashes, I feel like it is some sort of sign or signal to cancel the trip.
I also feel that this might be a new fear or phobia that will stay with me for a while -- travelling on air with my child. However, I think that if I am travelling alone, I will not have this kind of fear or anxiety.
I do plan to relay this with my psychiatrist who I see every month for my psych therapy sessions. I guess I would just like to know if other parents have a similar experience. What did you do? How did you overcome terrible anxiety?
Thank you.

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.

Sorry in advance for any errors, English is not my native language.
As a background, I was diagnosed with chronic depression and has been prescribed with an anti-depressant although I frequently forget to take it. Even prior to pregnancy, I am an extremely anxious person. I am the kind of person who thinks that I cannot be too happy else something really bad might happen after.
So just the other day, I purchased a tour package for our family composed of me, husband, my parents and sister, husband's mom, and my toddler who will be 23 months by date of travel).
Now, I feel this crippling anxiety and I almost broke down to tears just thinking that something wrong might happen with the trip. The anxiety is almost suffocating me and robbing me of the feeling to be excited. I don't know if it is a gut feeling that I should follow or if this is plain terrible anxiety.
I also suddenly dread airplanes. I'm not new to riding the plane, and I even enjoy riding planes so this feeling of anxiety is new to me. I guess the only difference is this is the first time that I will be traveling with my child, and also the first time that I'll be traveling with immediate family members.
I keep thinking over and over again, what if our plane crashes? Did I just doom my family? Each time I scroll through my phone and see something related to plane crashes, I feel like it is some sort of sign or signal to cancel the trip.
I also feel that this might be a new fear or phobia that will stay with me for a while -- travelling on air with my child. However, I think that if I am travelling alone, I will not have this kind of fear or anxiety.
I do plan to relay this with my psychiatrist who I see every month for my psych therapy sessions. I guess I would just like to know if other parents have a similar experience. What did you do? How did you overcome terrible anxiety?
Thank you.

• They start out by talking about how they are similar people, they both say what they are thinking and present their very real selves online which causes a lot of backlash
• KB asks what Maria was doing prior to being on the Bach?
• Maria worked for her families sprinkle company, they make sprinkles like the toppings lol Maria's Dad owned a chocolate factory prior so now they do this and Maria was his assistant
• KB asks Maria what made her nervous about doing their interview?
• Maria says that she was always a fan of KB and "wanted to be a Kaitlyn" if she went on the show. She was nervous about the interview because they are already comfy with one another so she wasn't sure what she was going to say.
• Maria tells KB that she actually went to one of her wine events a while ago and they met and took a shot together, KB says she remembers but also didn't remember lol
• Maria went on the show wanting to be different, be herself fully and push the limits

Maria's Storyline/Edit on the show

• KB says she didn't watch the season but that it really blew up and it seems like the show is fully back
• KB asks Maria if she thinks the drama on the show was portrayed accurately?
• Maria says she felt like the edit was very true to how it all happened. She said some girls claim they got bad edits but from her perspective it was a very honest edit
• Maria said that she didn't have anyone in the house coming to her defense but that she had also told the girls she was close with that they should just stay out of it and not come to her defense. The audience really had her back which was a nice feeling
• Maria says KB walked so she could run, feels like KB was very different on the show from the "norm" and opened the door for less perfect women to be on
• Maria asks KB if she has brothers?
• KB says she has a sister that feels like a brother. Says her and her sister both have dude energy "alpha energy", Maria says she does too. KB says she has girlfriends but loves guy energy

Talking about Maria wanting to go on the show

• KB brings up how Maria has stated she wanted to go on the show and that others say it's the wrong reasons. KB says she went on the show to build a brand/career and move forward in life. She doesn't think it's a bad thing, she went on to build a brand and also was open to falling in love
• KB asks about Marias thoughts on that?
• Maria says she has been open and honest about how she has always wanted to be on the show. She says people were responding well to that because she was honest about it. She wasn't asked to be on, she was asking what to do to get on
• Maria mentions Nick saying that she kept asking him to get her on the show. She says no, she did this all on her own. She says he put it out there like it was a dig but she had already been open about wanting to be on the show so she felt it didn't land
• Maria loved the show and was so open to it and felt the timing was perfect when she did go on because she felt ready for it
• As soon as she found out it was Joey, Maria contacted a producer she had been in contact with prior asking her to put her in the running to be on the season. 3 days prior to filming starting they called her and told her to pack and get ready to go
• Maria says every person on the show knows what they are doing and they want to be on the show, Maria is just one of the only people being honest about that

Jenn as Bachelorette

• Maria says she wants to clarify what she said about Jenn on another podcast. Jenn and Maria got really close after the show they were facetiming all the time and talking about wanting to be in relationships and how ready they were for that.
• Maria says during filming Jenn was giving it her all, dropping all walls and putting her full self into this
• Maria says Jenn was so ready to get engaged and get to the next stage of her life, and that is all she meant by what she said is that she is ready for that role
• She wasn't saying that Jenn was in the house talking about wanting to be bachelorette
• Maria says she wasn't super present on social media when the announcement was made because she wanted to make sure Jenn got love and support, all she wanted was for Jenn to get her chance
• She says Nick tried to make it seem like Maria said Jenn only got the opportunity because Maria turned it down but that she didn't mean it like that at all, she says it is Jenns opportunity and it was given to her
• KB says Nick knows that there is usually 4-5 people they will think about for the lead
• Maria asks if they can talk about Rob Mills, Maria says he is the coolest man on earth and KB says she loves him
• Maria says she told Rob Mills that Jenn is perfect for the lead because not only is she so ready for this she will also be important for representation. She is frustrated that her words got twisted into it seeming like she wasn't supportive of Jenn because all she wants is for Jenn to be successful. She wants to be able to share her story and how it unfolded for her while also being fully supportive of Jenn

Maria being offered the bachelorette/KBs time on the bachelor

• KB asks Maria if she regrets turning down bachelorette?
• Maria says no, she put her mental health first and wasn't ready for it and stands by her decision
• KB says she never thought they would pick her for bachelorette, Maria says she thought KB always had it in the bag
• KB says she was probs the most confident in her life when she was on the show and has gone backwards now
• KB says after her breakup with Shawn she said she would never date someone from the franchise again but obviously that wasn't true. She says they are all so attractive and also understand what the experience is like and what they have been through

Random off show stuff/One Direction???

• KB says she was in an athlete era and Maria asks if she was a "puck bunny" and they joke about it for a little while
• Maria is talking about how she would go downtown and go to concerts and meet people/go to after parties with them. What she has always said and done is to never sleep with them, "you want to hang out with them, become friends with them and be the girl they could never get"
• Maria is talking about knowing people (in bands? i don't know this lore sorry), and there was someone on tiktok telling false stories of her Dad being in a band and that's how she knows certain band members but that it's not true
• Maria says (I am going to fully translate this because I am a little lost and confused on the point): "The reality of it is that when you meet people you know, they know people who know people and then you just need to be the girl that never gets touched by these people so that they allow you to be around. And so I've been around them yes, yes. Have I hung around with certain band mates? Sure."
• KB asks which ones, Harry?
• Maria says she has met Harry and has a really funny story with Harry. Her Dad had a meeting in NY so she went with him, her friends told her that 1D was in NY staying at a specific hotel so she talked her Dad into staying at that hotel. Maria says she was walking to the elevators in the hotel and a bunch of fan girls were there screaming because Harry was going into the elevator, the security blocks anyone from going up but Maria had to pee and was a paying customer at the hotel so she gave them the finger and Harry laughed a ton. The security guard came back down and told Maria that Harry thought it was the funniest thing ever and wanted to meet her, so she got to meet Harry later that night. It was a very respectful and sweet meeting.
• Maria talks about being super into Evan Peters

Would Maria date someone in BN?

• Maria met Tyler at stagecoach (among other celebs) she says everyone wants them together but it isn't like that, nothing going on with that
• Maria doesn't think she would date anyone in BN because people (fans) take it to next level, even if she just takes a photo with someone to be nice people run with it
• KB mentions that when Maria took a photo with Jason she got so many DMs from people saying that Maria looked too comfy with Jason
• KB says that everyone asks her if she is gay now because she takes photos with Katie from VPR
• Maria says that a lot of people are calling her a bisexual queen, and she just lets people say whatever at this point

What is a period of Marias life where she was at rock bottom or experienced a lot of growth

• Maria says she had gotten into a really bad car accident in 2018 that was extremely traumatic
• She went into a really bad depressive episode where she was pushing everyone away, she doesn't like to talk about it a lot because it puts her back in that space
• She says the mindset she was in was something she had never experienced before and she wanted to be alone
• Maria says she walked away from the car accident perfectly fine but looking at her car you would think she most likely died
• This is part of the reason she didn't want to entertain the little petty fights in the bachelor house because there are much bigger things to be worried about in life

Nick

• KB asks how Maria knew/met Nick?
• Maria and her friends were fans of the show and liked Nick. They started talking through social media and would literally talk all the time, and would build a friendship
• KB says she did that too with him, and asks if her and Maria ever met in person?
• Maria says yes they met in person, he had told her when he was going to be the bachelor etc
• They would always communicate/found their way back to communicating and it was always friendly
• KB asks if Nick played a role in Maria being on the show?
• Maria says absolutely not
• KB asks how Maria feels about Nicks wife calling her delusional
• Maria says "to each their own". Maria says she made a comment about a conspiracy theory she had, she meant it as a full joke. Nick had told her she would be a villain on the show and she wasn't sure what it meant to be a villain. Then she gets off the show and had a girl villainize her an entire season for no reason, and then she saw a photo of them together and made a joke about how it was weird they knew each other. She wasn't being serious and she was just shooting the shit on CHD and making jokes, but Nick super ran with it.
• KB asks if something went south in Maria's relationship with Nick? If it was all fine why does he seem to want to talk shit with her.
• Maria says that is a good question, she said nice things about Nick on CHD they didn't have any sort of falling out prior they had stopped talking but just because it was natural not because anything happened between them. He didn't say anything bad about her during the season (KB interjects that Nick didn't say anything about her at all). Maria says that she would prefer him to breeze past her then talk shit about her so she was fine with it, but then after the CHD interview it all changed.
• Maria says she didn't know the timeline of his wedding, nothing she said was because he was getting married or anything like that
• Maria said her only goal was to clear up rumors and put that all to rest, she had nothing to hide, she wasn't the one that went through and unliked a bunch of instagram photos which caused the rumors
• Maria says to quote Kendrick Lamar "don't tell lies about me and I won't tell truths about you"

When I first got into TCB, I created a PDF of the FBI files that document the evidence in the Keyes case, including Keyes encounters. This is NOT new information. It's just a culled version of some of the Keyes files (there are 8 in total) on the FBI site. https://drive.google.com/file/d/17n3eKMsTI9XU5RbhR_f68a9XLrjQvOxb/view?usp=sharing
I tried to do the PDF collation of evidence and encounters because I went down a rabbit hole and wanted a document that I could use to confirm dates without scrolling through the repetitive information in the PDFs on the FBI's website. I never quite finished doing this, but I started. I think I got through PDFs 3-5 or 6 on the FBI's website.
The information is not new, but it might be somewhat interesting to read (again) the following.
Page 172 - Interview with former girlfriend of Keyes who discusses Keyes tying her up with scarves during sex. This was consensual, not his forcing it on the woman.
Page 218 - Confirmation (?) that Bill Currier's glasses were found outside the Essex farmhouse.
Page 227 - Army buddy interview. This is not Matthew. He mentions Keyes's "Amish" girlfriend.
Page 271 - Contains a list of Keyes's travel locations by "territory," which I assume refers to FBI office regions, but I don't know. It looks like Keyes was somehow in the OK City area more than I knew. Maybe that means he was flying there to visit (??), or Kim while she was traveling, or whatever. No idea.
Page 294-295 - This page contains the Matthew interview in which (as we all know) Matthew outlines Keyes stated robbery plans, Keyes's comments that he had committed burglaries before entering the army and that he wanted to rob banks along a stretch of rural highway + do some kind of "mass kidnapping for ransom" scheme. Matthew states that he is not surprised Keyes committed the crimes, only that he got caught. Matthew also states he did not think Keyes was gay.
Page 298 - Mentions a woman named Leah Roberts (I can't recall her date of disappearance). I also can't remember whether she has been ruled out as a Keyes victim.
I started another document of the same type where I tried to create a PDF of all the random Keyes encounters/meetings that are in the last 2-3 PDFs of Keyes case files on the FBI website, but I ran out of time.

To preface, I’ve been engaged in the past and was young and naive and was really unaware how much stress, thought, energy, money, etc. went into wedding planning. I honestly feel like the stress of it all tore us apart ultimately. While I’m glad it did, because I went on to meet my now fiancé, I’m now concerned about wedding planning/our future.
I disclosed all of this information about my past to my now fiancé while we were dating. I told him about how it was almost traumatizing how stressful it all was for me and how I’d never want to go through all of that again. I also am a very introverted, nervous person while my fiancé is the opposite. I have a big fear of public speaking or really anything that involves being the center of attention or having all eyes on me, while my fiancé is a musician and a social butterfly. Throughout us dating the last couple years, we’ve had countless conversations about how our wedding would look someday. We always talked about doing a private, very intimate and casual ceremony and a bigger reception with more people to follow. This seemed like an ideal plan for the both of us for a number of reasons. He has a strained relationship with his immediate family so it almost made more sense to have a less traditional, small ceremony with just our inner circle. Plus, that’s ideal for someone like me who is super nervous about the idea of walking down the aisle and reciting my vows in front of a bunch of people. That being said, my fiancé wants the traditions of the toasts, the first dance, cake cutting, etc. so we decided on a big reception with all of those things and many more people as it wouldn’t be as much pressure as the ceremony and it’d feel a lot more loose and casual but we’d still get to celebrate with all of our people in our inner and outer circle at the end of the day.
It kind of felt like the perfect plan. Both of us get the experience we’re after together and, honestly, the fact that he wanted the same low-stress level kind of fun, non-traditional experience made me want to marry him that much more. Everything just felt right. We want the same things and we’re on the same page.
So, he recently proposed to me and I couldn’t have been happier to accept. We shared the news with friends and family and when anyone asked about our plans, we basically explained exactly what I typed out above about our plans- we plan to have a long engagement and a private ceremony followed by a larger reception.
Today we started talking wedding plans and decided to start with guest lists. Immediately my fiancé started naming people who I would consider more so our “outer circle” for the private ceremony. I expressed my confusion and it quickly turned into an argument. He told me had since changed his mind and no longer wanted an intimate ceremony.
I feel really blindsided and defeated. The fact that my now fiancé and I had been on the same page about this topic for so long was a big reason why I felt so strongly about choosing him as my life partner. It felt like we both agreed that the stress and planning of a large, traditional wedding wasn’t the ideal way to start our lives together. Now I feel torn because while I definitely don’t want that, I don’t want him to feel like it’s my way or the highway or as if he’s missing out on something/I’m taking that experience from him. I don’t want him to resent me but I also feel really frustrated as I kind of felt the private ceremony/larger reception was already somewhat of a compromise as it is. After my experience with my ex-fiancé, I never even thought I’d ever plan any sort of wedding again no matter how big or small.
I’m at a loss as to what to do. Who makes the call on what we ultimately do? Even if it were my way, I feel like I’d be robbing him of an experience and like maybe he’d even resent me. Advice would be greatly appreciated

What’s up guys! Gonna share some insights, especially for the younger guys.
Stats: 20y- 6’0 - Handsome/Cute (6-7/10) - Nice Build Mediterranean looking + Mixes (🇻🇪 fam)
Context: Well travelled since youth, not rich but was a family thing to do. By default became a passport bro haha. Difficult kid, intelligent odd ball, not bad with girls but bad with girls lmao. Good but weird upbringing. Chaotic and a bit of a demon, impulsive, low self control. (Much more mature now)
Mexico 🇲🇽 Ok let’s get into it. My first real experience and love was at 19. I was in a bad place for many years prior and didn’t let people in. Anyways so yeah I met a 🇲🇽 girl who I found really cute through mutuals in the capital. I rarely found any Mexicans cute, so she was special in that point of view. We also had many similarities and I loved how feminine she was compared to girls back home. Beautiful country and culture I thoroughly recommend CDMX as a beginner location. I quickly began solo traveling to 🇲🇽 to see my “friend” and it quickly got out of hand and ended abruptly in a moment of my immaturity. I learned many things though: Long distance is not my style- too complicated and heart wrenching- I quickly made a mental note to not take any relationships serious. Also noted to be weary of girls who approach you haha. Here is where I noticed how insane I pulled outside of the country. I live in a city which has the most hyper-competitive sexual market in the United States (world) and I still do surprisingly well (especially at night lol). But nothing compares. Also I’m a Latino by blood so the dating culture just feels better.
Venezuela 🇻🇪 Anyways after the Mexico era I went on a family trip to Venezuela which I basically haven’t been there since my balls dropped. Wow. The natural beauty of Venezuelans is striking. Beautiful girls everywhere. The country itself is a mess. Everything is slow, expensive, and inconvenient. Had some fun there with a local girl but was not able to enjoy as much as I wanted to as I was with family the entire time. I don’t use tinder- all IRL into instagram as a funnel. Maybe I’ll explore more with dating apps as I get many matches especially overseas but the quality seems shitty and it can be a waste of time also a lame way to meet people. Never got to go out or party solo-dolo so that was a bummer. Will be back soon enough though so I’ll update you guys on Venezuela Nightlife experience. All I can say is it’s the second most beautiful place when it comes women I’ve been to. The country itself is by far the most beautiful place I’ve ever been. Terrible government- felt surprisingly safe though.
Europe 🇪🇺 Ok here’s were it gets weird haha. So Europe is definitely a place with more nuance. With that said I went to both western and eastern locations. It’s much easier to have casual sex in Western Europe due to the culture. Many American and European solo traveling girls as well… they are rather promiscuous. Eastern Europe was by far a beauty haven. From Romania to Russia you will find some of the most beautiful women on earth just walking on the street. The culture shock is large though and dating becomes a bit more “serious” which for me doesn’t work. I would recommend Europe as a traveling destination if you think you’re up for it. I did well and met, partied with, and traveled with girls but I felt like it the more east I went it just wasn’t the right vibe for that. Which is a bummer because Western European girls don’t compare to for example Ukrainians and Moldova. The farthest east I went was Turkey and the girl I was with had to sneak out everyday out of fear of being basically ostracized. Turkish people are very nice though. Spain was the most degenerate place I was in, if I wanted to party everyday I pretty much could. Great food, pricing varies widely based on economy, girls get hotter the more you go east but also more tricky. Great location to party hard, techno, etc.
So when it comes to Europe results may vary on many things. Your relative attractiveness, your ability to adapt and be outgoing even in “colder” nations, and how you carry yourself + where you stay. Staying in good locations is key. As an American you either get a buff or a de-buff and “wealth” is the main factor. European girls are very direct. Which I found off putting. Latin culture can be hyper sexual but I find it more classy.
Pro tips 🧠: - Don’t drink too much- you’ll get robbed or worse - Don’t get attached to anyone if you’re solo traveling it’s “solo” for a reason. Explore man. - Have travel cards with 0 international/atm fees - Learn how to say “hi” “nice to meet you” “my name is” “you’re gorgeous” in whatever language it shows you’re somewhat cultured. - If you’re young fuck the clubs! Go to raves, underground events, concerts, festivals. The young person and pretty girl ratio is 100x better. - Party hostels are a great way to meet “fun” people - Be careful with drug use, have been fine but honestly most of it is just unnecessary lmao. - Pub crawls are the easiest way to get laid in Europe lmao. Everyone is there for a reason. Just don’t do it if the ratio is completely busted as it’s not good for meeting local girls and stay away from the girl guides- trust.
Future travels 🌎 Peru 🇵🇪 - Machu Pichu + Lima Brazil 🇧🇷 - 🤤 nuff said Colombia 🇨🇴 - Venezuela lite more dangerous imo Argentina 🇦🇷 - seems fun
Asia as well- China 🇨🇳 would be crazy. Rarely find Asians cute but some are gorgeous.
Please share your thoughts / tips on these locations as I will be there shortly.

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.

Greylock is one of, if not, one of the best analog horror series I have seen to date. It is co-made by Rob Gavagan who is already a big youtuber with 3M. The story is one of the best, it's been covered by Wendigoon, Emortalmarcus and a bunch of other horror youtubers. It already has 10+ episodes (12 in total) with more to come. The story has multiple elements and mysteries that are...absolutely ripe for theorising.
Tl:dr greylock is an amazing series. Amazing editing, story, just everything.

This is the second half of my list for Oklahoma's execution roster. As mentioned in the first part, I broke it in half to comply with reddit's character limitations. For the link to part 1, please click here.
The currently executed 124 offenders, cases 63-124:
63. Robert Knighton (~1960s-2003, lethal injection): In 1973, after being released from a 1968 armed robbery conviction, Knighton went on his first major crime spree. He stabbed and strangled several men and women during many robberies and home invasions. The only victim that was killed, 32 year old Coffier Day, was shot dead while Knighton was arguing with him in his home. Coffier's father, 53 year old Claude, was also injured in the shooting. Knighton's first crime spree ended when he kidnapped a married couple and their 6 year old daughter. They escaped when the wife and mother of the family attacked Knighton with a knife to protect her husband and daughter. The family then notified the police of their abduction. Knighton managed to secure a 30 year manslaughter conviction and a 10 year armed robbery conviction with a plea deal, and was released to a halfway house in 1989. There, he began dating a female addict and befriended a teenage boy. The trio embarked on a nationwide robbery spree together. In Missouri, they shot and killed 59 year old Frank Merrifield and his 40 year old stepson Roy Donahue while robbing their home, and stole guns and money from them. In Oklahoma, the trio fatally shot a couple, 64 year old Virginia and 62 year old Richard Denney, while carjacking them. Their rampage ended when a woman in Texas grow suspicious of them circling a neighborhood. Knighton had a long history of theft convictions dating back to his childhood, and joined the Aryan Brotherhood in prison. Behind bars, he frequently attacked black and Native American inmates out of racial hatred for them.
64. Kenneth Charm (1993-2003, lethal injection): Charm and his teenage cousin lured a family friend, 14 year old Brandy Hill, into their car. They raped Hill and tried strangling her with a towel. When that failed, the cousins bludgeoned her to death with a sledgehammer.
65. Lewis Gilbert II (1994-2003, lethal injection): Gilbert and his teenage accomplice committed at least 4 robbery murders in Missouri, Ohio, and Oklahoma, but he was executed for the killing of 37 year old Roxanne Ruddell. They ambushed and kidnapped Ruddell while she was fishing alone. She was robbed of $3 and her truck, tied to a tree, and shot to death. The pair also fatally shot Ruth Loader, a 79 year old Ohioan woman, while abducting her from her residence, and gunned down a Missouri couple, 86 year old William and 76 year old Flossie Brewer, in their home. Gilbert was also sentenced to death for the Brewer murders by the state of Missouri, but was incarcerated in Oklahoma State Penitentiary’s death row.
66. Robert Duckett (~1980s-2003, lethal injection): After breaking out of prison, Duckett was picked up hitchhiking by John Howard, a 53 year old store owner. Howard agreed to let Duckett stay with him until he could find a job. The pair soon had a failing out, and Duckett was evicted by his host. He retaliated by tying Howard up with wire and then beating him to death with a fireplace poker. Duckett made off with his car after he switched the license plates, and took several bank bags from his store. He had a long violent criminal history, which included several incidents of assault and robbery. One of the incidents involved the beating of an 83 year old man. Allegedly, Duckett was previously gang-raped by other inmates, and suffered from PTSD from the incident. His attorneys claimed that Howard’s sexual advances trigged those memories, and he was killed as a result of Duckett lashing out at them. However, the prosecution shot the argument down, citing that the murder happened after Duckett was evicted from the apartment.
67. Bryan Toles (1993-2003, lethal injection): Toles and his two accomplices forced themselves into the home of the Franceschi family, and shot and killed the family patriarch, 39 year old Juan, in a struggle. Juan's son, 15 year old Lonnie, was also murdered "execution style" out of fear that he could identify Toles and his accomplices. The only survivor of the attack was Norma, Juan's wife and Lonnie's mother, who escaped by hiding in her older daughter's bedroom.
68. Jackie Willingham (1994-2003, lethal injection): Willingham was a door to door salesman selling perfume in an office building. One women, 62 year old Jayne Van Wey, he tried to solicit rejected him despite his repeated offers. Angered by her "rude behavior", Willingham attacked Van Wey when they had a chance encounter near the building's restroom. He dragged Van Wey out of a stall after following her inside, slammed her head against the bathroom wall several times, and kicked her head. Reportedly, Van Wey choked to death on her own blood.
69. Harold McElmurry III (1999-2003, lethal injection): While under the influence of meth, McElmurry and his wife Vicki broke into a home that a WW2 veteran, 80 year old Robert Pendley, shared with his wife, 75 year old Rosa. Robert and Rosa were both quickly subdued and physically restrained by the couple. McElmurry clubbed Robert to death with a pipe in front of Rosa, who was forced to watch by Vicki. Vicki then held Rosa down as McElmurry stabbed her several times with scissors. After killing the Pendleys, the McElmurrys fled with $70 in cash, a pair of guns, and the victims' car. A few days after the murders, they were captured by border agents while trying to cross into Mexico.
70. Tyrone Darks (~1990s-2004, lethal injection): Darks rammed his ex wife, 26 year old Sherry Goodlow, off the road as she was driving with their 2 year old son. After Goodlow crashed, Darks pulled their son out of the wreckage, shot her to death, and then drove away with him. Just before she succumbed to her injuries, Goodlow managed to call and notify the police about her son’s abduction. The police confronted and arrested Darks at his home, and they found the boy unharmed in their search. Darks and Goodlow’s former marriage was marred with violence, and he was arrested on numerous occasions for assaulting her. On death row, Darks was involved in a scheme to defraud a foundation for 9/11 survivors.
71. Norman Cleary (~1980s-2004, lethal injection): While burglarizing an upper class home with an accomplice, Cleary shot and killed a housekeeper, 44 year old Wanda Neafus, and took her purse and a cane that her employers purchased from the Smithsonian Institution. Cleary had a long criminal history and was previously convicted of beating an 87 year old woman in her home.
72. David Brown (~1983-2004, lethal injection): For several years, Brown violently harassed his ex wife and her family. In one incident, Brown abducted his ex wife and 11 of her customers from a beauty saloon she owned, and held them hostage until he surrendered to police. He was able to leave custody on bond and went into hiding. A few years after the hostage crisis incident, Brown broke into his ex wife's family home and gunned down her father, 47 year old Eldon McGuire.
73. Hung Thanh Le (1992-2004, lethal injection): Le crept into the apartment of another Vietnamese refugee, 34 year old Hai Nguyen, and found him watching TV on the couch. He struck Nguyen from behind with a weightlifting bar, and continued stabbing him with a meat cleaver when he screamed his wife for help. Nguyen's wife phoned the police, and Le fled with the couple's safety deposit box that contained $36,000 and their wedding ring.
74. Robert Bryan (1993-2004, lethal injection): Bryan shot and killed his estranged aunt, 69 year old Mildred, dumped her body on his parents' property, and forged a $1,800 check to himself under her name.
75. Windel Workman (~1980s(?)-2004, lethal injection): Workman beat his girlfriend's daughter, 2 year old Amanda Holman, to death while babysitting her in their home. His ex wives reported that he had a history of child abuse and often violently spanked their children during their marriages.
76. Jimmie Slaughter (1991-2005, lethal injection): Fearing that she was going to tell his wife of their affair, Slaughter stabbed and shot his ex girlfriend, 29 year old Melody Wuertz, and their daughter, 1 year old Jessica. According to court documents, Slaughter mutilated both of their bodies, and he carved an "R" on Melody's stomach. He tried pinning the murders on a black man, but the investigators and the courts dismissed his allegations.
77. George Miller Jr. (1994-2005, lethal injection): During the robbery of a hotel, Miller attacked the auditor, 25 year old Kent Dodd, with a hedge shear and paint cans, and took $122 from the register. Dodd was severely beaten, had muriatic acid shoved down his throat, and was left to die. Just before he died of his injuries, Dodd gave a description of his attacker to the police that matched Miller. A massive amount of circumstantial evidence, such as wearing shoes that resembled the bloodstained footprints next to Dodd's body, a microscopic drop of blood found on his shoes that was tentatively linked to Dodd, his wife's testimony of his unaccounted absence from their home during the murder, and what appeared to be Dodd writing Miller's alias that he knew him by in his own blood, convicted him. Miller’s friends also reported that he was broke and begging them for money a day before the murder, and his wife mentioned him giving her the same amount of money that was stolen from the robbery a day after it happened.
78. Michael Pennington (1991-2005, lethal injection): Pennington shot and killed a clerk, 20 year old Bradley Grooms, while trying to rob a 7-eleven grocery store. He left empty handed when the register failed to open.
79. Kenneth Turrentine (1994-2005, lethal injection): Under the belief that they were stealing money from him for drugs, Turrentine shot and killed his sister, 48 year old Avon Stevenson, and his girlfriend, 39 year old Anita Richardson, during confrontations in their homes. He also gunned down Anita's two children, 22 year old Tina Pennington and 13 year old Martise.
80. Richard Thornburg Jr. (1996-2006, lethal injection): A month after he was shot by an unknown assailant, Thornburg and his accomplices sought revenge by abducting 5 men that he thought was responsible from a trailer. Three of the hostages, 51 year old James Poteet, 39 year old Tery Sheppard, and 24 year old Kieth Smith, were gunned down on the spot, and Thornberg forced the fourth to shoot the fifth with the threat of killing him if he didn’t comply. They then burned down the trailer with the wounded fifth victim still trapped inside, but he managed to escape with his life. Despite being forced to put all the blame on himself in exchange for being spared, the fourth hostage still went forward to the police.
81. John Boltz (1984-2006, lethal injection): To spite his estranged wife following an argument, Boltz attacked her son, 23 year old Doug Kirby, with a knife. Kirby was stabbed a total of 11 times, and he received several fatal wounds to his chest, stomach, and neck.
82. Eric Patton (1994-2006, lethal injection): Patton forced his way into the home of 56 year old Charlene Kauer after she refused his pleading for money. After dragging her around the house as he searched for valuables, Patton stabbed Kauer several times with many different blades objects at hand such as scissors, barbecue forks, and kitchen knifes. Although he confessed to the murder, Patton blamed it on alleged demonic possession and his cocaine addiction.
83. James Malicoat (1997-2006, lethal injection): Malicoat slammed Tessa Leadford, his 13 month old daughter, against a dresser. After she died from the beating, he tucked her into bed, and waited until his daughter's mother returned from work to take her to the hospital. The doctors found that Leadford had been dead for several hours at the time of her arrival, and discovered several injuries such as broken ribs, bite marks, abdominal bleeding, and facial bruising on her body. By his own account, he had abused Leadford on a daily basis. For her role in enabling her boyfriend's treatment of their daughter, Leadford's mother was convicted of first degree murder and given a life sentence.
84. Corey Hamilton (1992-2007, lethal injection): During the robbery of a restaurant, Hamilton shot and killed 4 employees, 26 year old Sandy Lara, 24 year old Stephen Williams, 19 year old Ted Kindley, and 17 year old Joseph Gooch, and made off with $2,000.
85. Jimmy Bland (~1975-2007, lethal injection): Bland shot his boss, 62 year old Doyle Rains, in the head over an argument regarding a borrowed car and dumped the body in a creek. He was previously convicted of killing a soldier, Raymond Prentice (age unknown), and abducting the man's wife and son at the age of 19. Bland served a 20 out of 60 year sentence, and murdered Rains a year after he was released.
86. Frank Welch (~1987-2008, lethal injection): In 1987, Welch attacked 28 year old Jo Cooper, who was 4 months pregnant with her second child, in her home. She was tied up with leather straps, raped and violated with plastic toys, and strangled to death. Cooper’s body was found laying near her infant son by her husband. Another woman, 32 year old Debra Stevens, was also bound, raped, and strangled to death in her home in a near identical fashion a few months later. Although both murders went unsolved for several years, Welch abducted and raped a woman in 1994, and he received a 45 year sentence for it. His DNA samples was collected and filed after his abduction conviction, and linked to both Cooper and Stevens’ murders in a 1997 test.
87. Terry Short (1995-2008, lethal injection): In an attempt to kill his ex girlfriend, Short blew up her apartment complex with a firebomb. She and her family managed to escape, but the blast killed Ken Yamamoto, a 22 year old Japanese exchange student. Yamamoto had no connections to the targeted ex girlfriend's family beyond him having the misfortune of residing in the same apartment.
88. Jessie Cummings Jr. (1991-2009, lethal injection): Cummings was a polygamist that had married and lived with two wives. Under his orders, Cummings’ wives shot and killed his estranged half sister, 46 year old Judy Mayo, and kidnapped her daughter, 11 year old Melissa. He bound his niece to his bed with handcuffs to be raped, and stabbed her to death.
89. Darwin Brown (1995-2009, lethal injection): While robbing a grocery store with three accomplices (including Billy Alverson and Michael Wilson), Brown tied up the clerk, 30 year old Richard Yost, with handcuffs, and then bludgeoned him death with a metal baseball bat. The killing was caught by security cameras, and the footage was used by the prosecution to secure the convictions of Brown and his accomplices.
90. Donald Gilson (1995-2009, lethal injection): Gilson routinely physically abused his live in girlfriend's 5 children (who were all between the ages of 8 and 12 years old). The youngest, 8 year old Shane Coffman, was beaten to death with a board for defecating on the living room carpet. He and his girlfriend then hid the body by stuffing it in a freezer. The body was kept inside it for 6 months until it was discovered by a sheriff's deputy investigating the family's abuse allegations. Gilson's girlfriend was spared the death penalty with a plea deal, and given a life sentence without the possibility of parole for her part in her son's abuse and murder.
91. Michael DeLozier (1995-2009, lethal injection): While camping with his friends, DeLozier ambushed another pair of campers, 60 year old Orville Bullard and 54 year old Paul Morgan, and shot them to death. They stole Morgan and Bullard's generator, pick up truck, and other camping gear. To cover up their tracks, DeLozier and his friends set their victims' campsite on fire, and severely burned the bodies.
92. Julius Young (1993-2010, lethal injection): For breaking off their relationship, Young beat his ex girlfriend, 20 year old Joyland Morgan and her 6 year old son Kewan, to death with a baseball bat in their apartment.
93. Donald Wackerly II (1996-2010, lethal injection): Wackerly and his wife ambushed and gunned down Pan Sayakhoummane, a 51 year old Laotian immigrant, while he was fishing in the Arkansas River. After he placed Sayakhoummane's body in the man’s own truck, he pushed into a river, and stole his fishing gear. A few months after the murder, Wackerly’s wife turned him in to the police.
94. John Duty (~1970s-2010, lethal injection): Duty was given a life sentence for abducting, raping, and non fatally shooting a female store clerk during a robbery. While incarcerated, he tricked a fellow inmate, 22 year old Curtis Wise Jr. into allowing himself to be tied up as a part of a hostage ruse, and then strangled him to death with shoelaces. At the time of his murder, Wise was serving a conviction for burglary and contributing to the delinquency of minors. Duty's execution caused some controversy for the use of pentobarbital, a drug more commonly utilized by veterinarians to euthanize pets.
95. Billy Alverson (1995-2011, lethal injection): Alverson assisted the above mentioned Darwin Brown and Micheal Wilson in the beating death of Richard Yost while robbing a convenience store.
96. Jeffrey Matthews (1994-2011, lethal injection): Matthews and his accomplice shot and killed his great uncle, 77 year old Otis Short, while robbing the man's home. In the robbery, they stole Short's truck, his .32 calibre pistol, and $500. The pair also slit the throat of Short's wife, but she survived her injuries.
97. Gary Welch (~1993-2011, lethal injection): During a fight over a drug shipment, Welch and his partner stabbed another dealer, 32 year old Robert Hardcastle, to death with broken glass bottles. He was previously convicted of battery with a deadly weapon, and was off on probation at the time of Hardcastle's murder.
98. Timothy Stemple (1996-2012, lethal injection): Stemple conspired with his girlfriend to murder his wife, 30 year old Trisha, for her life insurance policy. With the help of his girlfriend's 16 year old nephew or cousin [sources vary], Stemple beat Trisha with a baseball bat, and rammed her to death with his truck.
99. Michael Selsor (~1975-2012, lethal injection): Selsor and his accomplice went on a crime spree and robbed several convenience stores. During their robberies, the pair shot and killed two clerks, 55 year old Clayton Chandler and 20 year old Ina Morris, and injured two others in shooting and stabbing attacks.
100. Michael Hooper (~1992-2012, lethal injection): Hooper kidnapped his ex girlfriend, 23 year old Cynthia Jarman, and her children, 5 year old Timothy and 3 year old Tonya, from her boyfriend's residence. He shot all three of them dead, and buried the bodies in a rancher's field. According to court documents, Hooper was hyper-violent towards Cynthia in their year long relationship.
101. Garry Allen (1986-2012, lethal injection): Allen shot and killed his fiancee, 24 year old Lawanna Titsworth, during an argument at a day care she worked at. He fought with the responding officers trying to arrest him in an attempt to provoke a "suicide by cop" outcome. Despite the officers' best efforts to avoid harming him, Allen lost his eye from an accidental discharge. Due to claims of him having schizophrenia, Allen's execution was a source of controversy.
102. George Ochoa (~1993-2012, lethal injection): A Southside Locos gang member, Ochoa and another hoodlum shot and killed a couple, 38 year old Francisco Morales and 35 year old Maria Yanez, while burglarizing their home. The murders were witnessed by the couple's 14 year old and 10 year old children and stepchildren, who then phoned the police after the shooters' departure.
103. Steven Thacker (~1980s-2012, lethal injection): Thacker kidnapped 25 year old Laci Hill during a botched robbery of her home, and took her to a remote cabin to be raped. She was then strangled and stabbed to death. He fled to Missouri, fatally stabbed 24 year old Forrest Boyd while carjacking him, and used his car to hide out in Tennessee. After the stolen car broke down, Thacker called a tow truck to pick him up. When the driver, 52 year old Ray Patterson, found that he was using a stolen credit card, Thacker stabbed him to death as well. As a teenager, Thacker committed several acts of auto thefts and burglaries. He also engaged in inappropriate relationships with underaged girls, and was released from a Florida prison after serving time for a bad check conviction months before his murders.
104. James DeRosa (2000-2013, lethal injection): DeRosa and his accomplice tricked a couple, 73 year old Curtis and 70 year old Gloria Plummer, that he worked for on their ranch, into letting them inside their house. After they stabbed the Plummers and slit their throats, DeRosa and his accomplice stole $73 and drove away with their truck.
105. Brian Davis (2001-2013, lethal injection): Davis went searching for his girlfriend and their daughter when he found them missing from their home, and called his girlfriend's mother, 56 year old Josephine Sanford, about their whereabouts. Sanford dropped by the couple's residence after failing to find her daughter and granddaughter. At her arrival, she was raped, beaten, and stabbed to death by Davis. He then left the body in the house, drove off with Sanford’s van, and injured himself in a car accident. As Davis was high while driving, he was arrested for being under the influence. The detaining officers weren’t aware of the murder until Davis’ girlfriend returned to the home later that night, and called 911 after finding her mother’s corpse.
106. Anthony Banks (~1978-2013, lethal injection): In 1978, while robbing a grocery store, Banks shot and killed a clerk, 22 year old David Fremin. A year later, he abducted Sun Travis, a 24 year old South Korean immigrant, from a parking lot. He then sexually assaulted Travis in his car and shot her in the head. Although he was captured and convicted for Fremin's murder, Travis' killing went unsolved until a 1997 DNA test. Banks was originally sentenced to death for Fremin's murder, but it was lifted in favor of a life sentence. He was condemned for a second time after his conviction for Travis' murder.
107. Ronald Lott (~1980s-2013, lethal injection): A sexual predator of elderly women, Lott broke into the homes of 93 year old Zelma Cutler and 83 year old Anna Fowler after cutting off their power. They were tied up with cloth, anally penetrated, beaten, and suffocated to death with pillowcases. The case attracted controversy when another man was erroneously condemned for the murders, and he spent 11 years on death row until a 1997 DNA test linked the murders to Lott. At the time of the discovery, Lott was serving time for two rape convictions.
108. Johnny Black (~1984-2013, lethal injection): Black, two of his brothers, and two other men went looking for a man they feuded with for a fight. While they were crusing on the road, the group encountered a rancher, 54 year old Bill Pogue, and mistook him for their target due to them driving similar vehicles. They forced Poque off the road, pulled him out of his car, and stabbed him a total of 10 times. Pogue's son in law was also dragged out and attacked, but he managed to escape with his life. Black was previously convicted of manslaughter for shooting 49 year old Cecil Martin dead in an argument.
109. Michael Wilson (1995-2014, lethal injection): Wilson was the third participant in the above mentioned beating death of Richard Yost to be executed.
110. Kenneth Hogan (1988-2014, lethal injection): Hogan stabbed 21 year old Lisa Stanley to death while she was babysitting his children. According to autopsy reports, she was stabbed at least 25 times. Stanley had previously accused him of sexual misconduct, and prosecutors believed that she was killed during an argument over the allegations.
111. Clayton Lockett (~1992-2014, lethal injection): Lockett, his cousin, and another accomplice kidnapped 23 year old Bobby Bornt, 18 year old Summer Hair, and Bornt's 9 month son after burglarizing a home. After tying them up with duct tape, they forced their captives to lure a friend, 19 year old Stephanie Neiman, with a phone call. Neiman was also bound and initially survived getting shot multiple times. Out of frustration, Lockett buried her alive, and she succumbed to a combination of suffocation and her injuries. Lockett and his accomplices also gang-raped Hair and beat Bornt, but spared them on the forced condition of their silence. His execution was controversial, as Lockett convulsed for 45 minutes after being injected, and then died from a heart attack. He also had a long criminal history, and was first arrested for burglary as a teenager.
112. Charles Warner (1997-2015, lethal injection): Warner raped his girlfriend's daughter, 11 month old Adriana Waller, and shook her to death. His execution sparked outcry, as the wrong fatal drug was administered by mistake, and Warner complained of "burning pain" as he was being injected. With the botched executions of Lockett and Warner back to back, the state of Oklahoma delayed further executions until 2021.
113. John Grant (~1970s-2021, lethal injection): While serving a 130 year sentence for armed robbery, Grant stabbed a prison cafeteria worker, 58 year old Gay Carter, to death. He had a long criminal history dating back to the ag e of 11, had several previous convictions of theft and armed robbery, and frequently fought with and assaulted other inmates behind bars. Due to reports of "adverse reactions" to the lethal drugs, Grant's execution was scrutinized by a number of national media outlets.
114. Bigler Stouffer II (1985-2021, lethal injection): Stouffer shot and killed his ex girlfriend, 35 year old Linda Reaves, in her boyfriend's home for breaking up with him. Reaves' boyfriend was also seriously injured in the shooting.
115. Donald Grant (2001-2022, lethal injection): During a robbery of a hotel, Grant fatally shot, stabbed, and bludgeoned two employees, 43 year old Felicia Smith and 29 year old Brenda McElyea, and ran off with $1,500. He spent $200 of the stolen on paying for his girlfriend's bail.
116. Gilbert Postelle (~1998-2022, lethal injection): Postelle’s father was badly injured in a motorcycle accident, and they suspected that 57 year old James Anderson, 56 year old Terry Smith, 49 year old Donnie Swindler, and 26 year old Amy Wright were deliberately involved. Out a desire for vengeance, he recruited Postelle, his other son, and another man to kill them. All four victims were fatally gunned down in what was described as a “blitz attack” on their trailer. He was an addict and had several arrests for drug possession and manufacturing dating back to the age of 12.
117. James Coddington (1997-2022, lethal injection): After robbing a grocery store, Coddington went to the home of a friend and co worker, 73 year old Albert Hale, to ask for money. When Hale turned him down, Coddington retaliated by beating him with a claw hammer. Coddington stole $525 and went on to rob 5 more grocery stores. Hale was left alone with his injures for nearly an entire day until he was discovered by his son, and died in the hospital a day later.
118. Benjamin Cole Sr. (2002-2022, lethal injection): Out of anger that her crying interrupted his Nintendo game, Cole beat his daughter from his second wife, 9 month old Brianna, to death. He was previously convicted of abusing his son from a different marriage in California.
119. Richard Fairchild (1996-2023, lethal injection): Fairchild got into a fight with his girlfriend’s 17 year old daughter after making drunken sexual passes at her, and was enraged that she left with a cab driver. He took his anger out on the girl’s younger brother, 3 year old Adam Broomhall, and scalded him with a wall heater. He then repeatedly hit the boy, threw him against a table, and fatally hemorrhaged his head. Bromhall received over 26 blows during the beating.
120. Scott Eizember (2003-2023, lethal injection): Eizember snuck into his ex girlfriend's house to lie in wait for her. However, her roommates, 76 year old A.J. Cantrell and his 70 year old wife Patsy, arrived home earlier then she did. He shot and beat them both to death and then fled the scene.
121. Jemaine Cannon (1995-2023, lethal injection): Cannon was put in prison for assaulting an unidentified woman. He managed to escape and stabbed his girlfriend, 20 year old Sharonda Clark, to death in her apartment.
122. Anthony Sanchez (1996-2023, lethal injection): Sanchez kidnapped 21 year old Jewell Busken from her apartment complex, and then raped and shot her to death. He amassed a following from the anti death penalty movement for claiming that his father was responsible, but such notions were debunked following a 2023 DNA test that concluded Sanchez’s guilt.
123. Phillip Hancock (~1982-2023, lethal injection): In 1982, Hancock shot a drug dealer, 27 year old Charles Warren, dead in a dispute over stolen jewelry and was given a manslaughter conviction for it. He was released after serving a 2 year term. About 17 years later, he shot and killed 58 year old James Lynch III and 37 year old Robert Jett Jr. in a drug house. Despite an eyewitness account describing Lynch and Jett begging for their lives, the case attracted scrutiny when Hancock's attorneys claimed that the shootings were done in self defense.
124. Michael Smith (~2002-2024, lethal injection): A member of the Oak Grove Posse gang, Smith was responsible for two separate fatal shootings on the same day. In one of his murders, he killed Sharath Pulluru, a 24 year old Indian immigrant that worked as a clerk, while robbing a gas station. The other murder occurred when he tried to confront a gang member that he thought was a police informant in his apartment, and gunned down the target’s mother, 40 year old Janet Miller-Moore, when she refused to give away her son’s location. Smith was also given a life sentence for delivering a gun to a shooter that carried out another gang killing.

This is the list that I wrote for Oklahoma's execution roster since the nationwide reinstatement of capital punishment in the late 1970s. Something that should be mentioned is that given the nature of many death penalty related crimes, many of the descriptions contain very disturbing details. Please read at your own risk.
Florida's list is next, and I'll post my list for Texas once I've completed it. With Texas, I've currently finished 464 entries out of the 587 cases to date. That will probably take 7 or 8 posts for it all to be released, so I'll probably do two posts a day with Texas to avoid spamming the sub. At the end of this year, I'll repost the states that have conducted further executions with the updated information.
As with Missouri and Virginia, Reddit's maximum character count limitations forced me to divide Oklahoma's list into two separate parts. Here is the link to part 2.
The currently 124 executed offenders, cases 1 to 62:
1. Charles Coleman (~1950s-1990, lethal injection): A month after he was released on parole in 1979, Coleman broke into a house. While sacking it for any valuables, the homeowner’s brother and sister in law, 68 year old John and 62 year old Roxie Seward, walked in on him and were both shot dead. Coleman stole Roxie’s purse, several packets of frozen meat, and the homeowner’s watch during the burglary, and was arrested shortly afterwards. However, Coleman managed to escape custody, and went on a rampage that involved several burglaries, auto thefts, slitting the throat of a policeman in a failed murder attempt, the shooting death of 49 year old Russell Lewis Jr. in a carjacking, and the abduction of a deputy. The kidnapped deputy was rescued following an armed standoff with other police officers. Coleman had an extensive history of animal cruelty, armed robberies, assaults, and carrying concealed weapons convictions dating back to when he was 11 years old. He was also heavily suspected in the murder of his teenage girlfriend’s father, but was acquitted by the courts despite the prosecution’s strong belief in his guilt.
2. Robyn Parks (1977-1992, lethal injection): During a gas station robbery, Parks shot and killed Abdullah Ibrahim, a 24 year old Bangladeshi immigrant that worked as the attendant. According to Parks, he murdered Ibrahim for catching him using a stolen credit card.
3. Olan Randle (1980-1992, lethal injection): Randle invaded a home and shot the occupants, 41 year old Robert Swinford, Sinford's fiance 42 year old Averil Bourque, and Bourque's friend 38 year old Julia Lovejoy, dead. He took a pocket knife and several watches from the victims.
4. Thomas Grasso (~1970s(?)-1995, lethal injection): While living in Oklahoma, Grasso strangled 87 year old Hilda Johnson, the best friend of his girlfriend's grandmother, to death with her Christmas lights. He took $8 from her purse, several coins that added up to $4, and a television set that he sold for $125. Grasso then moved to New York, and strangled 81 year old Leslie Holtz for his social security check. The trialing arrangements caused some controversy, as the New York governors at the time were anti death penalty, and tried to prevent Grasso's extradition in favor of giving him a life sentence in their jurisdiction. Grasso had several previous convictions for theft and was fired multiple times for stealing from his jobs.
5. Roger Stafford (~1974(?)-1995, lethal injection): Stafford was condemned for killing at least 9 people in two separate robbery incidents with his brother and ex wife, though his ex wife claimed that he was involved with as many as 34 murders nationwide. The first convicted incident was when he and the ex wife carjacked and fatally shot a couple, 38 year old Melvin and 31 year old Linda Lorenz, and their son, 12 year old Richard. A few weeks after the Lorenz murders, Stafford stormed a restaurant and gunned down 6 employees, 56 year old Isaac Freeman, 43 year old Louis Zacarias, 17 year old Anthony Tew, 17 year old David Lindsey, 16 year old David Salsman, and 15 year old Terri Horst. One of Stafford's additional attributed victims was 20 year old Jimmy Berry, who was killed in the hold up of an Alabaman McDonalds, but he wasn't charged by the state due to his death sentences in Oklahoma.
6. Robert Brecheen (1983-1995, lethal injection): Breechen was involved in a feud over money with 59 year old Mary Stubbs and her husband. In an attempt to take what he perceived was owed to him, Breechen carried out a night time burglary of their home. While rummaging through the house, Breechen stumbled upon old Marie in her living room and shot her to death. The gunshots and screams awoke her husband, and he chased him away with his own gun.
7. Benjamin Brewer (1978-1996, lethal injection): Brewer raped his neighbor, 20 year old Karen Stapleton, in her home and stabbed her to death
8. Steven Hatch (1979-1996, lethal injection): Hatch and another assailant, Glen Ake, forced themselves inside the home that Richard Dougass, a 43 year old reverend, shared with his wife, 36 year old Marilyn, and their two children, 16 year old Brooks and 12 year old Lesile. The pair tied up the family and raped Lesile in front of her parents and brother. All four family members were shot, and Hatch and Ake ran off with $43 and the parents’ wedding rings. Richard and Marilyn were both killed in the shootings, while their children survived the attack. Ake was also initially condemned for the attack, but his sentence was overturned and resentenced to life following mental health concerns, and passed away from undisclosed natural causes in 2011.
9. Scott Carpenter (1994-1997, lethal injection): In a convenience store robbery, Carpenter stabbed the owner, 56 year old A. J. Kelley, in the neck, and hid the body in the minnow room. He filled his truck with $37 worth of gas from the pumps and drove away from the scene. His execution caused some controversy, as it was reported that Carpenter gasped and spasmed for 11 minutes after being injected.
10. Michael Long (1997-1998, lethal injection): Enraged that his coworker, 24 year old Sheryl Graber, refused him sex and started screaming for help, he stabbed her over 31 times. Long also shot and killed her son, 5 year old Andrew, for being a witness.
11. Stephen Wood (1992-1998, lethal injection): While heavily intoxicated, Wood stabbed two other homeless men, 46 year old Charles Stephen and 34 year old Charles Von Johnson, dozens of times each. He was given a life sentence for both of their murders. During his incarceration, Robert Brigden, a 59 year old former minister that was serving a 40 year sentence for molesting several girls between the ages of 4-14 in his congregation, moved into his unit after refusing to go into protective custody. Woods killed Brigden in a stabbing attack, and his sentence was escalated to death by the courts for it.
12. Tuan Anh Nguyen (~1982-1998, lethal injection): By all accounts, Nguyen was jealously possessive over his wife, 21 year old Donna. During one of their arguments over his behavior, he stabbed Donna, her 6 year old nephew Joseph White, and her 3 year old niece Amanda White, in their home and left the bodies to be found by the children’s parents. He fled to Arizona, groomed a 14 year old girl into an illicit “relationship”, and impregnated her. After he convinced her to move in with him, Nguyen physically and sexually abused the girl until she fled and went to the local police for help. Nguyen was then deported back to Oklahoma to face trial for Donna and the White children’s slayings, and was sentenced to death for them.
13. John Duvall (1986-1998, lethal injection): During a fight with his wife, 30 year old Donna, Duvall stabbed and suffocated her to death with a pillow.
14. John Castro Sr. (1983-1999, lethal injection): Castro carjacked Beulah Cox, a 31 year old Oklahoma State University student, after she picked him up hitchhiking and shot her to death. A few months later, Castro held up a restaurant with an empty pistol, and attacked the manger, 29 year old Rhonda Pappan, after forcing her to open the register. During their struggle, Pappan was fatally stabbed, and he took off with her purse. During his mid teens, Castro was allegedly molested by his mother. Castro's attorneys made the argument that his glimpses of Cox's buttocks reminded him of his mother's reported abuse, and he was triggered into attacking her for it.
15. Sean Sellers (1985-1999, lethal injection): In 1985, a then 15 year old Sellers tried to buy beer from a convenience store, but the clerk, 32 year old Robert Bower, denied him due to being underaged at the time. Sellers gunned him down in a fit of rage. A year later, Sellers shot and killed his mother, 32 year old Vonda Bellofatto, and stepfather, 43 year old Paul, in their sleep. Due to being 16 at the time of his conviction, Sellers remains the youngest condemned offender to have his sentence carried out in the post Furman era. He also attracted national media attention for claiming that his crimes were the result of demonic possession.
16. Scotty Moore (1983-1999, lethal injection): Moore was fired from a motel for undisclosed reasons. In retaliation, Moore and a cousin (whom he was dating at the time), assaulted the motel, and gunned down the desk clerk, 42 year old Alex Fernandez. According to court documents, the pair took a total of $97 in the robbery.
17. Norman Newsted (1984-1999, lethal injection): Newsted tricked Lawrence Buckley, a 26 year old cab driver, into picking him up. He shot Buckley dead and took his wallet. In an attempt to cover his tracks, Newsted placed the body inside the cab, and drove it into a creek near a local church. Despite his best efforts, Buckley’s cab and remains were discovered a day later by the church’s pastor.
18. Cornel Cooks (1982-1999, lethal injection): Cooks and his accomplice broke into the home of 87 year old Jennie Ridling. She was gagged, raped, and suffocated to death with gauze wrappings. According to autopsy reports, the pair abused her for over 2 hours. They then sacked the house for any valuables and left with her checkbook.
19. Bobby Ross (1983-1999, lethal injection): While robbing an inn, Ross fatally shot a police officer, 30 year old Steve Mahan, that tried to intervene.
20. Malcolm Johnson (~1970s(?)-2000, lethal injection): Johnson invaded the apartment of 76 year old Ura Thompson and sexually assaulted her. Thompson either died from having her chest compounded during the abuse or was suffocated by Johnson’s hands covering her nose. He seized several possessions such as furs, typewriters, purse, watch, rings, and a hand mirror, which were discovered by police in his residence during an unrelated investigation of a firearms possession charge. Johnson had an extensive criminal history, which included several convictions of rape, armed robberies, and burglaries. The case attracted controversy when it was discovered that the lead chemist in the investigation misconducted several of her other cases, and forged some of the evidence used in the trial. Despite the other overwhelming evidence to the contrary, Johnson’s supporters took the opportunity to push a narrative of his innocence.
21. Gary Walker (~1960s-2000, lethal injection): Walker abducted, raped, and murdered at least 5 women, 36 year old Margaret Lydick, 35 year old Jane Hilburn, 32 year old Janet Jewell, 25 year old Valerie Shaw-Hartzell, and 24 year old DeRonda Roy, and non fatally assaulted several other women and teenage girls. The victims were mostly strangled to death with their bras and panties. Some of them were forced to withdraw hundreds of dollars from ATMs before they were killed. He also strangled a man, 63 year old Eddie Cash, with an electrical cord while robbing his home. Walker had dozens of previous convictions for burglary, carjacking, drug possession, and carrying concealed weapons. Some of his earliest arrests occurred when he was a teenager.
22. Michael Roberts (~1988-2000, lethal injection): A career burglar, Roberts was condemned for murder of 80 year old Lula Brooks. She was raped and her throat was slit by an intruder in her home. Roberts' death sentence and execution has been contested, as he was convicted on his later recounted testimony alone. He claimed that the investigators tricked him into confessing with the promise of a plea deal that was allegedly withheld from him.
23. Kelly Rogers (1990-2000, lethal injection): Rogers’ girlfriend lured 21 year old Karen Lauffenburger into her apartment with a fake pizza order. They accosted her when she arrived with the delivery. After the couple forced Lauffenburger to hand to over the $40 she earned from the night's pizza deliveries and withdraw $175 from an ATM, Rogers raped and stabbed her to death. The body was left in Lauffenburger’s apartment and was found by her boyfriend.
24. Ronald Boyd (1986-2000, lethal injection): During a robbery spree of several gas stations and supermarkets, Boyd engaged in a shootout with the responding officers. A Master Patrolman, 32 year old Richard Riggs, was killed in the exchange.
25. Charles Foster (~1980s(?)-2000, lethal injection): Foster suspected a grocery store owner, 74 year old Claude Wiley, of making sexual advances at his wife. He arranged for her to entice Wiley to their home with an order. When he arrived with the delivery, Foster stabbed and bludgeoned him to death with a baseball bat. He a history of convictions involving threats and violence, though my sources didn’t disclose any specific details.
26. James Robedeaux (1978-2000, lethal injection): In 1978, Robedeaux strangled his first wife, 30 year old Linda, and plead guilty to a second degree murder charges. He was released after serving 6 out of a 25 year sentence despite an escape attempt. In the following year, he began a relationship with 37 year old Nancy McKinney while he married a different woman. During an argument, Robedeaux beat McKinney to death, dismembered her body with a saw and machete, and scattered the remains across the state. While being investigated for McKinney's murder, he was arrested for choking and beating his estranged second wife. The cases were incidental and kept separate by the courts.
27. Roger Berget (~1985-2000, lethal injection): Berget carjacked and abducted 33 year old Rick Patterson with an accomplice, and shot him dead. He also admitted to the beating death of a roommate, 40 year old James Meadows, on the behalf of the man's wife. As a trivial side note, Berget's brother Rodney was executed in 2018 by the state of South Dakota for killing a prison guard [for more information, please see Rodney Berget's entry under the South Dakota section of my states with less then 10 executions post].
28. William Bryson (1988-2000, lethal injection): To collect a $300,000 life insurance policy, Marilyn Plantz recruited her boyfriend Byrson and his friend to kill her husband, 33 year old James. Byrson and his friend ambushed Plantz in his house as he was coming home from work and beat him to death with a baseball bat. With the intentions of staging an accident, Marilyn ordered the pair to burn the body in the couple's pickup truck.
29. Gregg Braun (1989-2000, lethal injection): Across several states, Braun shot and killed 4 women, 48 year old Geraldine Valdez, 31 year old Gwendolyn Miller, 28 year old Mary Rains, 27 year old Barbara Kochendorfer, and one man, 54 year old Pete Spurrier, while robbing stores.
30. George Wallace (~1970s-2000, lethal injection): Known as "the Mad Paddler" due to his habit of spanking abducted preteen and teenage boys with a wooden paddle, Wallace kidnapped his victims by posing as a police officer. After duping his targets into thinking that they were being arrested, Wallace restrained them with handcuffs and leg chains. The captives were then sexually abused and shot or stabbed to death. His crimes were exposed when an 18 year old man he abducted escaped from him despite being shot and stabbed numerous times. By his own admission, Wallace murdered 18 year old Thomas Reed, 15 year old William Domer, 14 year old Mark McLaughlin, 14 year old Jeffrey Foster, and 12 year old Alonzo Cade.
31. Eddie Trice (1987-2001, lethal injection): Trice snuck into the home of 84 year old Ernestine Jones and raped her. After he beat Jones to death with numbchucks, he terrorized and extorted her cognitively disabled son of $500 with threats of killing him if he told anyone of the murder. The son was also assaulted with a hammer, and he received injuries to his right eye, right cheekbone, and his right forearm.
32. Wanda Allen (~1981-2001, lethal injection): In 1981, Allen got into a fight with her live in girlfriend, 21 year old Dedra Pettus, and shot her dead. Despite giving a bungled story about her being accidentally killed in a shootout with Pettus’ ex boyfriend to the investigators, Allen managed to secure a 4 year sentence for manslaughter after pleading guilty to a plea deal, and was released after serving two years. While incarcerated, she started dating a fellow inmate, 29 year old Gloria Leathers, and continued their relationship outside of prison. The couple’s relationship was marred with extreme domestic violence on Allen’s end. In one incident, Allen struck Leathers with a rake. In 1989, while they were arguing in front of a shopping center, Allen shot and killed Leathers. Leathers herself also had history of violence, and had a conviction for stabbing a woman to death. Allen and her defense team tried to use Leathers’ previous convictions to make a self defense argument, but that was shot down by the courts.
33. Floyd Medlock (1990-2001, lethal injection): 7 year old Katherine Busch went to visit her family's old apartment, which Medlock was residing in, by herself. Busch knocked on the door and Medlock let her inside after she begged for food. He then choked and sexually assaulted the girl, dunked her head in a toilet bowl, and stabbed her to death. The body was hidden in a nearby dumpster. Busch's grandmothers were staunch pro capital punishment and anti death penalty activists respectively, and their public feud over Medlock's sentence and execution attracted some media attention. Medlock also had an extensive criminal history despite being only 19 at the time of Busch's murder, and was previously arrested several times for indecent exposure, arson, armed robbery, and marijuana possession.
34. Dion Smallwood (1992-2001, lethal injection): Smallwood walked into the home of his ex girlfriend's adoptive stepmother, 68 year old Lois Frederick, without invitation. He had a tumultuous and often violent relationship with her adopted stepdaughter that she strongly opposed, and they broke up under her pressure. After an argument, Smallwood knocked Frederick unconscious with a croquet mallet, locked her in a car, and burned her alive in it.
35. Mark Fowler (1985-2001, lethal injection): To get back at his ex employers for firing him, Fowler and his partner, Billy Fox, stormed a supermarket that he used to work out. The pair rounded up 3 employees, Chumpon Chaowasin, a 44 year old Thai immigrant, 33 year old Rick Cast, and 27 year old John Barrier, at gun point. Their hostages were shot, clubbed, and stabbed to death, and they took over $2,7000 in cash and checks.
36. Billy Fox (1985-2001, lethal injection): Fox assisted the above mentioned Mark Fowler in robbing a supermarket and murdering 3 of its employees
37. Loyd Lafevers (1985-2001, lethal injection): Lafevers and his accomplice, Randall Cannon, kidnapped 84 year old Addie Hawley from her home. She was raped, trapped in the trunk of a car, and burned alive in it. Although she was rescued, Hawley died from her injuries 6 hours later. The pair stole Hawley's wedding ring and Lafevers gifted it to a stripper. As Hawley's nephew was a Colorado state senator, her murder gained some attention from media outlets.
38. Dorsie Jones Jr. (1979-2001, lethal injection): While drinking at a bar, a barmaid chastised Jones for carrying an unconcealed gun. He shot at her in a fit of rage, but missed and injured his female companion instead. Jones then turned his attention to the other patrons and fired on them. 48 year old Stanley Buck Sr. was killed in front of his 19 year old son, who was also wounded in the shooting.
39. Robert Clayton (~1980s-2001, lethal injection): Clayton attacked 19 year old Rhonda Timmons while she was sunbathing near her apartment. She was raped, stabbed, kicked in the head, and strangled to death with her swimming suit. Her husband found Timmons' body laying next to their infant daughter, who was left unharmed. Clayton had a previous rape conviction in Tennessee and a robbery conviction in Texas.
40. Ronald Fluke (1997-2001, lethal injection): Out of despair that his gambling addiction drove his family to near poverty, Fluke shot and killed his wife, 44 year old Ginger, and their daughters, 13 year old Kathryn and 11 year old Susanne, while they were sleeping in their bedrooms. He initially attacked Ginger with a hatchet, but turned to shooting when she fought back.
41. Marilyn Plantz (1988-2001, lethal injection): The married girlfriend of William Bryson. As mentioned under Bryson's entry, Plantz arranged for him and his friend to kill her husband James to collect his life insurance policy.
42. Terrance James (1983-2001, lethal injection): While awaiting trial for a theft of government property charge, James and two accomplices strangled a fellow inmate, 25 year old Mark Berry, with wire out of their suspicions of him being a snitch. They then hung the body in an attempt to make it look like a suicide. Berry was another party in the theft of government property case, and James and his accomplices believed that it was his testimony that got them arrested.
43. Vincent Johnson (1991-2001, lethal injection): Johnson gunned down 44 year old Shirley Mooneyham in her home. The prosecution believed that Mooneyham's boyfriend arranged the killing to collect a life insurance policy, but he was acquitted at trial.
44. Jerald Harjo (~1980s-2001, lethal injection): Harjo snuck into the bedroom of 64 year old Ruth Porter, raped her, and suffocated her with a pillowcase. He then snatched Porter's car keys and drove off with her van. His past criminal history was extensive, and was in prison numerous times for burglary and autotheft.
45. Jack Walker (1988-2001, lethal injection): Disgruntled with the custody dispute over their then 3 month old son, Walker stabbed his ex girlfriend, 17 year old Shelly Ellison, and her uncle, 30 year old Donald, 32 and 11 times with an ice pick during a confrontation at their home.
46. Alvie Hale Jr. (1983-2001, lethal injection): Hale kidnapped 24 year old William Perry to extort a $350,000 ransom from his banking family. When the negotiations failed, Perry was shot dead, and Hale buried the body on his father's property.
47. Lois Smith (1982-2001, lethal injection): Smith, her son, and a female accomplice abducted her son's ex girlfriend, 21 year old Cindy Baillee, from an airport out of fear her testifying of his involvement in the drug trade. Baillee was taken to Smith's ex husband's house, and stabbed in the throat by her ex boyfriend while driving to their destination. Inside the home, she was taunted by Smith with a gun, and was shot 7 times in the chest and 2 times in the back of the head. While her son was reloading the gun, Smith jumped on and crushed Bailee's throat.
48. Sahib Lateef Al-Mosawi (1992-2001, lethal injection): Following a dispute over their newborn son's name, Al-Mosawi's estranged wife, 26 year old Inaam Al-Nashi, fled to the apartment of her uncle, 45 year old Mohammed. Al-Mosaw attacked the pair in the apartment and stabbed them to death. Inaam's sister was also stabbed, but she managed to escape with her life. The couple and their families were refugees from Iraq that were displaced by the First Persian Gulf War, and they fled into the United States.
49. John Romano (1985-2002, lethal injection): Romano and his accomplice David Woodruff robbed and murdered two of their acquaintances. One of the victims, 63 year old Lloyd Thompson, was attacked in his apartment. Thompson was held down by the pair while they stabbed him 22 times and served his spinal cord. The other victim, 52 year old Roger Sarfaty, was tied up, beaten, stabbed 5 times, and strangled to death in a jewelry store he owned. In the robberies, Romano and Woodruff stole several pieces of jewelry from Sarfaty, and took most of Thompson’s quarter collection.
50. David Woodruff (1985-2002, lethal injection): As mentioned under John Romano's entry, Woodruff took part in the robbery murders of Lloyd Thompson and Roger Sarfaty.
51. Randall Cannon (1985-2002, lethal injection): Cannon assisted Loyd Lafevers in abducting, sexually assaulting, and burning Addie Hawley alive in her car. Although he was acquitted of molesting Hawley, Cannon was still condemned for his part in the kidnapping and murder.
52. Earl Frederick Sr. (~1989-2002, lethal injection): Frederick beat Bradford Beck, a 41 year old veteran that was crippled during his service in the Vietnam war, to death in his home after befriending him. He ransacked the house and dumped Beck's body in a field. A second murder, the robbery and shooting death of a Texan man, 77 year old Shirley Fox, was also tied to him. However, authorities in Texas withheld from prosecuting Fredrick due to his death penalty trial and conviction in Oklahoma. Both Fox and Beck had physical disabilities, which led prosecutors to the conclusion that Frederick intentionally selected and depredated on disabled men.
53. Jerry McCracken (~1980s(?)-2002, lethal injection): McCracken and his accomplice shot up a bar, killed 3 patrons and the bartender, and made off with $350. The victims that lost their lives were 41 year old Carol McDaniels, 37 year old Timothy Sheets, 34 year old Steven Sheets, and 27 year old Tyrrell Boyd. Months before the mass shooting, McCracken was paroled after serving time for stabbing 3 people in a bar fight.
54. Jay Neill (1984-2002, lethal injection): During a bank robbery, Neill disemboweled and nearly decapitated 3 tellers, 42 year old Kay Bruno, 25 year old Joyce Mullenix, and 19 year old Jerri Bowles. A group of 4 customers, consisting of 33 year old Ralph Zeller, a married couple, and their 14 month old daughter, unwittingly walked in on him, and he herded them into a backroom to be shot. Zeller was killed, the couple were wounded, and Neill left the daughter unharmed due to running out of bullets. Neill's boyfriend was given a life sentence for the robbery and murders, despite not being directly involved.
55. Ernest Carter Jr. (~1989-2002, lethal injection): After being fired from an autoshop, Carter robbed it with an accomplice, and fatally shot a security guard, 35 year old Eugene Manowski. The pair stole the shop's tow truck, and later tried to burn it with Carter's girlfriend to destroy any traces of the crime. Carter was also previously accused of burning a friend to death in the previous year, but the charges were dismissed.
56. Daniel Revilla (1987-2003, lethal injection): While babysitting his girlfriend's son, 13 month old Mark Gomez, in their home, Revilla broke the boy’s ribs in a beating and scalded him with boiling water. When he brought the boy to a hospital, Revilla gave a story that he accidentally hit Gomez’s head with a door handle, which was quickly seen through by the staff. According to the accounts of his girlfriend and her family, Revilla was violently abusive to Gomez, and they recounted incidents of him trapping the boy in a kitchen drawer, dunking him in cold water, folding him into a pull up bed, and hanging him by his ankles with duct tape.
57. Bobby Fields (~1990s-2003, lethal injection): Fields shot and killed 77 year old Louise Schem while burglarizing her home. She had tried to shot him with her .25 calibre pistol, but he wrestled the gun away from her, and gunned her down with it. His intentions was to steal Schem's television set to sell for cocaine, but left empty handed after losing his nerves with the struggle and murder. According to court documents, Fields had a previous robbery and assault conviction, and several arrests for drug possession.
58. Walanzo Robinson (1989-2003, lethal injection): A member of the Gangster Bloods street gang, Robinson shot and killed 26 year old Dennis Hill, an affiliate of a rival gang, in a turf war over drug sales.
59. John Hooker (~1971-2003, lethal injection): As a teenager in 1971, Hooker attended a party at a friend's house, and got into an argument. In a fit of anger, he fatally shot 18 year old Alta Lang, and wounded two other partygoers. Due to the witnesses refusing to cooperate with the investigation and being unable to prove any calculated intentions, Hooker was given a manslaughter conviction, and released a few years later. After he was paroled, Hooker started dating Sylvia Stokes, and fathered several children with her. Their troubled relationship lasted for 8 years, and ended when Stokes filed a protection order against him. In retaliation, Hooker lured Stokes and her mother, 53 year old Durcilla Morgan, into his apartment and stabbed them both to death.
60. Scot Hain (~1980s-2003, lethal injection): Hain carjacked and abducted a couple, 27 year old Michael Houghton and 22 year old Laura Sanders. After taking $565 and some bags of clothing, he forced them into the trunk of their car at gunpoint, and burned them alive in it. He had several previous arrests for robbery, and was involved with a number of rapes and attempted kidnappings months before the Houghton and Sanders' murders.
61. Don Hawkins Jr. (1985-2003, lethal injection): Hawkins kidnapped 29 year old Linda Ann Thompson and her two daughters, aged 4 years old and 18 months old, from a mall. Although his original intentions were to ransom off Thompson and her children, Hawkins gang raped the captive woman with his cousin and his girlfriend's teenage nephew, and drowned her in a lake. Thompson's children were spared and simply left with a babysitter. Hawkins and his accomplice then went on a nation wide rampage with his accomplice that involved the abductions and rapes of several grown women and teenage girls, hanging 31 year old David Coupez of Colorado in his home while robbing him, and countless other robberies.
62. Larry Jackson (~1984-2003, lethal injection): In 1984, Jackson shot and killed his girlfriend, 19 year old Freda Washington. He accepted a plea deal that dumbed down the charges to second degree murder, and was given a 30 year sentence for it. During his incarceration, Jackson started a relationship with 29 year old Wendy Cade. Despite her promises of marriage after his release, Cade left him for another man, and they got engaged. When Jackson was assigned to a prison work crew, he snuck out and went to confront Cade. Reportedly, the two had bought alchool, cocaine, and cigerates together and had sex in Cade's apartment. However, they got into an argument, and he slashed Cade's throat and stabbed her 31 times with box cutters. Jackson then left with her jewelry, watch, and the keys to her jeep.

I am not the OOP. The OOP is u/user posting in TrueOffMyChest
Ongoing as per OOP
1 update - Medium
Original - 6th May 2024
Update - 9th May 2024
​
I(29F) made my step-father(50M) an outsider at my wedding that he paid for. I need to make it up to him but I dont know how.
​
I ruined the memory of the best day of my life because I was too blind to see what I was doing was hurting one of the most important people in my life. I got married 2 months ago to the love of my life, and he finally opened my eyes to what I did. He showed me the pespective I didnt understand.
When I was 5 my father left us. Just disapeard without trace. He and my mom were already separated by that point, but he was still living with us. 3 years later my mom started dating Rob. He was quite a bit younger than she was, I belive she was 34 and he was 26. Today he is very welthy (he wasnt when he met my mom) and he treats my mother like a queen. Whenever she is around him she looks like the happiest person in the world. My younger sister looks a lot like me and mom, but her personality is for sure a reflexion of her dad, always telling jokes and being just a nice person all around while me and my mom are more serious and cold.
As I got older, Rob became more present in my life he got married to my mom and she got pregnant. But it was still pretty weird seeing him as a father figure mostly because people would asume he was my brother all the time. When I was in HS, I was dating this boy, and he broke up with me at my friends house. My mom was on a night shift and I had to ask Rob to pick me up. When he did, he conforted me, took me to get ice cream, and when we got home he told me something like this (without knowing what happened) "whoever made you sad doesnt understand that you are the best girl in the world, and its their loss. Dont beat yourself up because other people are too stupid to see it"
I just said to him "I wish you were my dad". He smiled and said that he wished that too, and he could be if I wanted to. We left it at that. I never called him dad. But from that point foward I saw him as a father and I think he knows it.
I finally reconnected to my biological father about an year ago. It happened because I got engaged. When I came to my mom's house one day, he was there and I couldnt even recognise him. He was way thinner than he was when I was a kid. He struggled for years with depression and substance abuse. My mom and Rob actually helped him get clean and they even paid for his stay at a great rehabilitation center. They decided together that it was time for me to finally meet him again.
I dont want to explore much on how this was, but all I have to say is that im glad to have him back in my life and im glad for being able to help him heal. He sufered a lot, he got lost. But now he is at least trying.
Rob and my mother payed for everything at my wedding, and everything was amazing. The church was beautiful, my husband looked amazing. The one mistake I made: I chose my biological father over Rob. I chose the man that did abandon me for over 20 years over the one the took me as his own and gave me everything he could when he didnt have to. I chose the man that broke my mothers heart over the one that saved her. I dont know why I did what I did. Looking back on it I feel so fucking stupid. My dad didnt deserve to walk me down the aisle. My dad dint deserve to be in all the pictures with my mom and my husbands parents. It should have been Rob.
I dont know, I think I was compensating for the time lost with my dad. Everything was still so fresh with him. I was helping him out, he talked to me everyday, I felt like he deserved to be back in my life.
When we were deciding who would give speeches, we had to cut some because it was just too many and me and my husband didnt really like the idea of hearing speeches for and hour and a half. So we decided for 5 people each. When I gave the list to my husband he even asked "no Rob?" And I said "yeah, my mom is already doing one". The others I chose were 2 of my bridesmaids, my mom, my sister (she really pushed for it) and, again, my dad. My husband said I should reconsider, He even thought of giving up one of his to put Rob in. I said it was fine, he didnt need to do that. My whole thinking when doing this was that Rob has my sister. He will have his moment. This was the only chance my dad had.
But I went too far. I completly cut him out of the party basically. If you look at the photos it doesnt even look like he went. My mom looks like she is faking a smile in half the pictures. I dont have a single picture with him. He only apears in group pictures, and some with my husband.
I only realised all of this when I texted Rob 2 days ago, asking him about a gift im giving my husbands for his birthday. He answered. Then asked about my car that is with a mechanic friend of his. He answered. Then I asked him something about my insurance. He did not answer. A little over an hour later my mom called me. She just said "do you have no shame? Do you not understand what you did?" I just listened and she told me not to talk to Rob for now. I was just so fucking confused. I got home and told my husband and he just said that he knows what she is referencing but he will talk to her first.
Later, he showed me the wedding photos, he went step by step on everything I have listed here. He talked calmly, and broke it down for me. By the end I was crying so much that I had a headache. What an inconsiderate idiot I am. He told me that he and my mom didnt tell me anything before the party because Rob asked them not to. He understood that it was important for me for my father to be a big part of this day and when they protested he said that they should not make me worry about these small things.
I dont know what changed from before the party to now. My mom only tells me that he needs a bit of time and that he will talk to me soon. My husband keeps telling me that I made a mistake but Rob will be understanding and will forgive me. And I know that he will. He 100% has already forgiven me. He probably felt something when I was texting him that day that broke him down. I dont know what I said to trigger him at that moment, but also it doesnt really matter. I did the real damage at the party probably since he apeared to be fine with everything else before it (It was not fine by any means)
I have to make it up to him. I dont know how but I just do. I guess im just writing this here because im a little lost. Im too ashamed to talk about it with anyone else I know apart from my mom and husband. She doesnt tell me anything and my husband keeps insiting that everything will be fine and for me not to worry too much about it. And he is probably right but I feel like me not worrying about this is just being inconsiderate to Rob again. I have to worry. I just dont know what to do.
Im now at work, and the only thing I can think about is this. Nothing else matters to me right now.
If someone has any kind of idea of how I can make it up to him I would greatly appreciate it.
Edit: Literally 40 minutes after I uploaded this, my mom texted me saying that Rob wants to speak to me tonight.
​
Comments
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Odd_Welcome7940
Good news: I bet Rob forgives you.
Bad news: He doesn't see you as his daughter anymore. He probably never will.
What you did can't be changed. You can't make up for it. You took the man who gave you more than any other man ever and took him for granted. You will never be able to undo it, fix it, or make up for it. Even worse, even after all that he hoped you would realize your mistake and he would feel like he raised you well enough to figure it out and try to fix it. He now also feels like you don't see him as dad, but also that it is 100% his own fault for failing you as your dad.
I suggest you just pray someday he sees your kids as grandkids and is the amazing grandpa he can be for them. Other than that? Go see a therapist and figure out what is wrong with you. Because this isn't a singular mistake inside of small moment. This was a series of repeated decisions and honestly shows you have a lot to work on.
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birbbs
I just can't get over the fact that OPs husband tried to point it out to her before it ever happened. Was she truly that oblivious?
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RevolutionaryHat8988
I want to hug Rob. We all need a Rob in our lives.
​
Update - 3 days later
​
First, I want to say some things before posting:
No, I am not Linda, my biological father isnt dying. Got a DM in here asking.
My sister is mostly just sad, not really mad at me. Just said she understood my situation but it still was really shitty seeing her father taken for granted and sad.
My mother is the person most pissed off at me at the moment. She is the only one that still does not talk to me. I mean she does, but not really.
For the people saying my husband and mother were idiots for not talking to me before: they agree and have told me this. My husband specially. Im not trying to shift blame here, just saying this for the people that talked about it
I was not going to post anything else on here. Not a fan of being called names and for people to keep saying that Rob should leave our family. Although Im well aware that I deserve most of everything that was said about me. The comments saying "the apple doesnt fall far from the tree" in regards to me and my biological father were the ones that hurt the most as it is a fear of mine and the reason I dont drink much and dont use any drugs or anything that could be addictive. But seeing how there are other things that could make us more similar than I realised is really frightening.
The day I posted here, my mom told me Rob wanted to speak to me and to go to their home after work. I went and waited for Rob to arrive. When he did my mom left us alone and he started off by saying that he was hurt by what I did at the wedding, that he knows he is not my father and that he would never try to force that on me, but that he at least thought he had some sort of importance in my life and seeing me just not give him any importance apart from talking to him when I need help with something made him realise that I do not view him the he thought I did.
At this point I was already crying so much that I couldnt even talk. I waited for him to finish and when he did I just told basically what you all saw in the post. That I fucked up bad, that I was inconsiderate, that he is one of the most important people in my life and that what I did was unforgivable.
The only reason I am posting it here is because of something during the conversation. He said something about my time at college and I went "but that was because..." and stoped. He asked me "what? because of what" I just said "nothing, you are right, that was my fault and I should have done better".
He was pretty angry at that point and he started to smile and we talked about me taking responsibility for my actions. Its something I am terrible at, it was an issue at my old job and since then I have been trying to be better at it but not very successfully. He asked what changed and I told him about the post. Multiple people in the comments said that I dont take responsibility and yes, they read right through me. I showed it to him and reading the post calmed him down.
And no, he did not read the comments, just the ones I showed it to him, I would not let him see what some of you were saying about my mom.
So yes, he told me if I was going to say something else to thank you people for calling me out for not taking responsibility.
We talked about a lot of other things not related to the wedding. At the end I just told him that there were 2 things I wanted to say for him to take away from this conversation: I really did mean it when I was in HS and said that I wished he was my dad. Even now, with my biological dad in my life. I still feel that way. And the second thing is that I know that it will be hard for him to believe it right now because of what happened, but I will try to prove it to him for as long as it takes.
For those interested, I`ve been going to a therapist with my biological father once every 2 weeks since he came back, but I think I need one for myself so I will try to make it happen soon.
I want to thank 3 particular commenters that helped me.

1. The person that told me to take it slow with Rob and dmed me to stop looking at the thread cause I was spiraling.
2. The one that said: "People fuck up. Sometimes badly. But in a loving and caring family it's never the end of things as long as you are willing to own your mistakes."
3. And most importantly the best comment that was fair and gave me the right advice: "You are a spoilt, selfish, childish person. I don’t know that rob will forgive you but you can’t simply wait to see if he does. Write him a letter in which you fully own up to your awful behaviour. Do not say “I wish someone had stopped me” - that isn’t taking accountability for the way you treat people. With him and your mom paying for your wedding and your in laws paying for your house - you need to grow up and reflect very seriously on how you interact with everyone around you."

I guess the post served as the letter in the scenario, thank you, that was the slap in the face I needed to realise that I need to do a lot of work to improve myself and that the wedding was not its own thing, it was a reflection of who I am right now and I dont like what I see when I look in the mirror. Also, Rob more or less told me something similar, just not as a agressive, so this comment made me take his words as not him atacking me, but trying to help me understand my flaws.
Im not sure how I will make up for this. Rob is telling me that over time, just me being how I was before my biological father showed up will be enough for him. I dont doubt him but its not enough for me. I will live with what I did for the rest of my life. I will always remember.
The way I am now I actually need people to call me out for this kinds of things and its not fair to them. I will work on it, I have to. I will try my hardest to not ever hurt anyone I love this way again. Thankfully now I have someone in my husband to help me do that and call me out if needed. Thank you.
​
Comments
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not-an-op
You’re gonna feel like shit on your sister’s wedding day.
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GoodQueenFluffenChop
Sis is definitely going to go above and beyond to make sure her dad knows he is loved and honored and the walk down the aisle and the father-daughter dance will be the most lovely.
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capilot
Yes, then he'll realize that someone loves him.
​
I am not the OOP. Please do not harass the OOP.
Please remember the No Brigading Rule and to be civil in the comments

Buckle in, guys - this is going to be a long one. Also, I come out of the closet...as a Swiftie. HMU if you want me to bring friendship bracelets to Brooklyn.
Any resemblance to real people is...not coincidental, actually.

Race Information

• Name: Boston Marathon
• Date: April 15, 2024
• Distance: 26.2 miles
• Location: Boston, MA
• Website: https://www.baa.org/
• Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/11188906240/overview
• Time: 3:04:31

Goals

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	Don't totally kill my legs	Sorta
B	Get the finish	Yes
C	2:55	No
D	3:00	No

Splits

Kilometer	Time	Pace (min/mi)
5	20:25	6:35
10	20:50 (41:15)	6:43
15	20:39 (1:01:54)	6:40
20	20:44 (1:22:38)	6:41
Half	4:31 (1:27:09)	6:38
25	16:20/20:51 (1:43:29)	6:45
30	21:43 (2:05:16)	7:01
Heartbreak Start (20M/32K)	10:03 (2:15:19)	7:24
Heartbreak End (21M/33.6K)	6:56 (2:22:15)	6:57 (lmao)
35	5:30/22:29 (2:27:45)	7:22
40	27:03 (2:54:48)	8:42*
Finish	9:43	7:08*

(Boston does intermediate splits late-race starting 35k (35K, 23M, 24M, 40K, 1 mile out), so so the last two splits are aggregates.)

Race Information

• Name: London Marathon
• Date: April 21, 2024
• Distance: 26.2 miles
• Location: London, UK
• Website: http://www.tcslondonmarathon.com
• Strava: https://www.strava.com/activities/11231697234/overview
• Time: 3:09:57

Goals

Goal	Description	Completed?
A	3:09:30	No
B	3:09:59	Yes

Splits

Kilometer	Time	Pace (min/mi)
5	22:25	7:12
10	22:36 (45:01)	7:16
15	22:31 (1:07:32)	7:15
20	22:23 (1:29:55)	7:13
Half	4:58 (1:34:53)	7:16
25	17:45/22:43 (1:52:38)	7:19
30	22:27 (2:14:59)	7:13
35	22:42 (2:37:41)	7:19
40	22:34 (3:00:15)	7:16
Finish	9:42	7:08

(London's app shows aggregate splits, so if you look at my official times it'll look like I was perfectly even throughout.)

Opening

Some people overthink their training programs. I overthink my race recaps.
Okay, OP. Why did you do this to yourself?
tl;dr: I'm basic.
Like a lot of people, one of my goals is to be a six-star seven-star finisher (thanks Sydney). Boston and New York were relatively easy to check off, and they've both kind of become my "regulars." I did Chicago last fall after a long delay - originally I was planning on doing it in 2020, but you know what happened. You might have heard about it!
For London, I applied to the lottery - or as they say across the pond, the ballot - last year and got rejected like everyone else does. I had a backup plan, though - I was going to apply to be a pacer. Two of my friends (David and Jazmin) had paced London last year and had a good experience, and they asked me to throw my hat in the ring this year.
...Okay, but OP, HOW did you do this to yourself? I want the deets.
Step 1: qualify for Boston again. (You can do it at Boston, but I don't recommend it because that is absolutely stressful. On the other hand, the one thing worse than trying to BQ at Boston without one in hand is trying to BQ in New York when it's 75 degrees.)
Step 2: apply to be a pacer and pray. London has open pacer applications, although I think they preference returning pacers. Also pacers that have actually paced marathons before. Neither of which applied to me at the time (I had signed up to pace Philly, but applications opened around NYC for this year). However, one thing I don't value is my bodily integrity so I just put down the fastest times I felt comfortable doing.
David, Jazmin, and I got the acceptance emails about a week later. David would be pacing 3:25, Jazmin would be pacing 3:40, and I...would be pacing 3:10, or the fastest group I put down. I remember being at work and listening to "Cornelia Street" by Taylor Swift when I read my email. The only way it could have been more on-the-nose is if it had been "London Boy."
(Also, justice for "Lover.")
Since I'd never internationally traveled before, I applied for a passport in November (just before Thanksgiving). Keep that in mind.

Training/Preparation

*starts laughing with a seamless transition into sobbing*
...ooh boy.
General training (or what SHOULD have happened)
My friend David coaches a group of us, adapting the training program that our club coach used. We're fairly heavy on the MP work, and surprisingly not so much on threshold. A typical week looks like this:

• Monday - easy 60m. Normally, this is about 7 miles.
• Tuesday - track workout; ~2 miles up, ~3 miles total on (at 5KP or faster), ~1-2 miles down
• Wednesday - easy 60m
• Thursday - tempo/MP work (because I know I'm gonna get yelled at). 1-2 miles up, up to 90 total minutes at ~MP down to ~HMP (for me, ~6:30 to ~6:00, roughly), couple of miles down.
• Friday - easy 60m
• Saturday/Sunday - easy one day, LR the other day. LR's normally easy (~8:00 pace or so), but sometimes includes MP chunks. We go up to 23 miles (or 3 hours).
• (Bonus) Doubles whenever I can fit them in during marathon blocks...and strangely enough, I'll usually double on Wednesdays regardless because our local Fleet Feet has a 3-mile group run Wednesday evenings. And yes, I know this is insane but apparently I'd rather be crazy than be alone.

Normally, most of my runs are with friends - so I'll run their easy paces (a bit slower than what I'd run on my own), and then we do our workouts at our own paces.
What ACTUALLY happened
Post-Chicago, I was pretty much unstructured, but ran a couple of more races:

• I paced a HM two weeks post-Chicago (0/10 do not recommend pacing a 1:30 HM on a course with 800 feet of elevation two weeks after your goal marathon, those first few miles hurt).
• I ran with a friend at NYC to help him get a BQ (which he ran 5 minutes under - he's 47, so we did just under 3:15).
• Philly went surprisingly well, considering I had done like two marathons in the previous month and a half.
  • On the plus side, we ended up splitting 1:34:30/1:35:20ish. So a bit hot at the start, but not overly so.
  • On the downside, I ended up taking two bathroom stops. Shout out to my co-pacer Mu for...you know...not having his bladder decide to be embarrassing. Shout out to Liz (the Philly coordinator) for having the good sense to give me adult supervision.

Meanwhile, a bunch of other things happened:

• My primary training partner from last fall tore his meniscus and still can't run.
• Jazmin decided to get a private coach, but still asked me to do some of her workouts with her.
• Another one of my friends made his comeback after being hurt last year - and he's following Daniels and his own schedule, and also asked me to run with him on occasion.
• Meanwhile, the rest of the group stuck to the same schedule I posted before.
• Also, I should mention I'm a terminal people pleaser and hate making decisions.

So by the time it was time to hop back into training, I was floating around pretty aimlessly and - because I didn't really have any performance goals this cycle - I tried to run with everyone as much as I could. I...do not recommend this. By February, I was looking at my messages and considering going into witness protection while figuring out which long run out of three I wanted to show up to.
Suffice to say, my training was disorganized as hell. I think I got a couple of 70-mile weeks in back in February, but kind of fell off in March when I was still dealing with some niggles of my own and also work things. Somehow, I managed to do a couple of races:

• I ran 1:19:5x at NYC Half (like half of this sub apparently).
• Also, I ran a sub-36 10k. A week before Boston. In retrospect, this might have been a mistake.

Meanwhile, my original passport seemingly never arrived. I ended up finally calling the passport center about a week before my London flight (I would have called earlier, but work was crazy and if I'm nothing else, I'm wildly irresponsible), and somehow managed to get an appointment before I left. In Boston (I live about 4 hours away). The day after I was supposed to come home from Boston.

Boston

Pre-Race
This was the less stressful event - on Saturday, I went up with my friend Joe who was spectating. Did the standard Boston race weekend stuff (shout out to Puma for their Sunday shakeout, the amazing panel, and for actually feeding us), met up with our other friends running Boston Sunday, and had dinner with our friends Jazmin and Janna (who were running) and Janna's husband Mark (who was not).
Also, I got my bib signed by Jenny Simpson on Saturday.
Monday, I just did my usual race prep - which is absolutely no prep whatsoever. (To wit, breakfast was "coffee and a banana loaf from Dunkin'.") I met up with Jazmin - who was planning to leave that night - and caught a shuttle to the Common with her. Funny enough, on the bus to Hopkinton we met up with our friend Cole who was getting his sixth star at Boston.
Race Day
I figured I'd go for an "easy 2:55" because Chicago gave me way too much confidence. I started from corral 3 and caught up with Cole (in corral 2) within the first mile. We mostly ran together for about 6 or 7 miles and then I lost track of him. I just assumed he'd dropped me because he's much faster than me. (The guy's currently a 2:30s marathoner. I say that because his lifetime PR is in the 2:20s.)
Gradually, it got warmer and warmer, but I was still feeling relatively good through the first half. I kissed one of the Wellesley students in the Scream Tunnel (to be fair, I was going to mind my own business, but she was standing on top of the fence holding a sign saying "Kiss me if you can reach," and I'm 6'5" and do not back down from challenges), but I mostly maintained pace into Newton.
And then I realized a few things:

1. While the temperature may have been approved by Rob Gronkowski, it was definitely not approved by me.
2. I ran a 2:47 last fall, so I had exactly zero reason to continue to try for a 2:55.
3. I also had to do this again in six days. And that was the deciding factor to just throw in the towel.

So, the last ten miles or so I mostly run-walked, which concerned my friends back home. (I contemplated posting to our WhatsApp group mid-race but that would have been weird.) It felt funny - it's only the second time I've "given up" on a marathon, and while I felt about as good as you can feel after doing 16 miles straight at MP, it was weird to just be so casual about things when I felt like I could still continue to race if I really wanted to.
Anyway, so, long story short:

• Around mile 18, I actually ended up running with a guy that I'd recognized from NYC 2022 - that day, he went down on the side of the course. At Boston, we ran together for about half a mile going back and forth...and then I just let him leave me.
• Somehow, still managed to set a Heartbreak PR. I think.
• I totally missed Joe, Mark, and the three blondes Joe and Mark recruited to cheer for me around mile 25. (I regret to inform all of them that three hot women are not quite as good at getting my attention as three hot men are. 💅🏿)

My finishing time was 3:04:31. Which was my slowest Boston to date, including 2021 where I keeled over on Boylston and ended up in the med tent. I still finished in like 3:00 high or something that day. (This is not a flex, and should not be considered a flex. That day sucked.)
Post-Race
I managed to get myself back to our hotel (also, ended up taking a selfie with an older gentleman on the Silver Line), and waited for Jazmin. And waited. Opening the tracker was pretty worrisome, as she'd slowed down a ton.
Finally, she finished, but she had a rough time. Thankfully, her coach found her at the finish and drove her over to our hotel. And one of her friends picked her up and drove her home. I'm not going to lie, I was pretty worried about her for London six days later.
(I'm intentionally being vague here, but...yeah, it was rough.)
I also found out that Cole finished about 15 minutes behind me (he said he'd been sick the week before, which I didn't know until after the race). Janna did pretty much the same thing that I did, in jogging in the back half. She still ended up on the Fast Women Instagram page (as she should).
Anyway, Janna, Mark, Joe, and I had a rather interesting dinner, and then it was back home on Tuesday. For most of us, anyway.

London

But first, Boston (again)
I did the math and - yeah - it was actually less expensive for me to go back home than to just stay an extra night. Welcome to marathon weekend. Paid through the nose for an expedited passport ($225), but...hey, I managed to get it. Shout out to FlixBus for the hook-up. Honestly, I recommend the 6:30 AM buses.
London (for real this time)
To Taylor Alison Swift: Why would you drop a double album on London Marathon weekend. Not only that, while I was taking a red-eye trans-Atlantic flight. Joe Alwyn wasn't even running it (and I'm not even sure Matty Healy could run 26.2 feet), so you don't even have that excuse. Janna suggested I buy the in-flight WiFi. I opted not to, and in retrospect that was the correct decision. (FWIW, TTPD is okay, but not worth $8 to United. That said, "So Long, London" into "But Daddy, I Love Him" is a hell of a choice.)
Anyway, for London, I flew in with Jazmin and my dad (who was also flying trans-Atlantic for the first time), and meeting David and another one of our friends (who is also named Joe) in London. If you are keeping count, we're up to three Joes in this recap already. Due to an opportune seat swap (shout out to the lady who wanted to sit with her husband, I don't care if you were telling the truth or if you just felt sorry for me), I managed to get a couple of hours of sleep on the flight.
We landed mid-day Friday at Heathrow, got into London, and my dad and I checked in to our hotel. (Right next to Waterloo Station, actually, which was nice!) Or we would have checked in, if everyone wasn't evacuating the hotel because of a fire alarm.
We did manage to get checked in after everything was sorted out, and then it was off to the expo (or the show, as London puts it). When we signed up, we had to volunteer for a 2-hour shift at the expo - and in our infinite wisdom, we chose the 3:30-5:30 shift. I spent most of that shift trying to explain why we ran out of 3:20, 3:25, 3:50, and 3:55 pace bands (god speed to the pacers for those groups).
Also, I picked up my gear for pacing - including the uniform (excuse me, kit), pacer flag, and the shoes. In my case, because I have clown feet (14 US/13.5 UK), they ended up being 1080s. And since London strongly encourages us to wear NB, I did not bring my usual shoes (Endorphin Elites).
"OP, it seems like you make a lot of poor planning decisions," you might be saying if you're still reading this. And...yes, yes, I agree. (Technically, I could wear whatever shoe, I'd just need to cover the logos. But I figured I'd be running 22 minutes slower than my PR so I'd be fine regardless.) I will say the 1080s are comfortable, though. Very loud - it's the London colorway, so imagine my size shoe in highlighter yellow, orange, and hot pink - but comfy.
Got back to the hotel, had dinner, argued with my dad about English electrical ports (despite what they look like, they are not USB ports), and tucked in for the night.
Saturday was mostly sightseeing - David, Jazmin, and I did a shakeout run around Westminster and caught the start of the Mini Marathon, and then my dad and I walked around a bit. Also did a night bus tour - shout out to Emma and Julie from Golden Tours - and had the standard pasta dinner. I went to bed around 9...only to get woken up at 10 by yet another fire alarm. After stumbling outside in 5-degree weather and back to our hotel, I somehow managed to get back to sleep.
Race Morning
Whoever labeled Waterloo East on literally every map by the platform instead of the entrance: your mum.
After having a surprisingly leisurely breakfast and a surprisingly hard time finding the entrance for the train station, I managed to hop the train out to the start of the race. Met up with David and Jazmin (apparently they were in the last car and I was in the middle of the train), and then we went out to the pacer meetup in the basement of the Clarendon Inn.
Imagine a small basement room with 140 people speaking multiple languages crammed in together, and that kind of approaches the chaos we were dealing with. You also have to add in a very assertive British guy with a whistle (shout out to Akram, the London coordinator). From past experience, David and Jazmin decided to leave for the corrals (or waves - I feel like London has its own language) around 9, and I went with them to our starts (blue for me and Jazmin, green for David).
I put on my flag (which I've never run with before - every other race has been with a hand-held sign) and immediately became one of the most popular people at the London Marathon. Most of my time was spent going, "uh I guess I'm running even 🤷🏿‍♂️," which I am sure boosted everyone's confidence in me.
The Race
London is similar to NYC where there are three separate starts that merge into one course. London's merges are a bit earlier than NYC's - Blue and Green merge in the first mile or so, and then Yellow/Red merge in around mile 3. (Not sure why they use two colors for that start!) The major difference is that there isn't one unified starting gun - in fact, the starts are pretty spread out, and it feels more like a rolling start. From big-race experience, I knew my GPS would be off, so I'd have to rely on my elapsed time and my pace band. I tried to yell out splits every mile and every 5k (so yes, I was the annoying American with the especially annoying New Jersey accent yelling out random numbers).
The first mile was relatively easy and uncongested - in fact, I was a bit concerned because I was a little fast (7:11 by my reckoning). And then we came up behind the Green 3:15 pace group. Famously, Comrades Marathon (at least - I'm not sure if this is a South Africa thing, or specific to that race) refers to their pace groups as "buses." I can see the comparison, as trying to maneuver safely around the pace group while knowing I had my own group felt like trying to parallel park a double-decker bus.
Somehow, we managed to pass them relatively safely...and then we came up behind the Yellow 3:15 group. I was pretty stressed, I'll admit. (The next largest race I've been a pacer for is Philadelphia, which is at most 1/4 the field size.) Somehow, I managed to keep people with me, although I admittedly didn't look too much.
That said, it says something when Cutty Sark feels like one of the more open places on the course.
We crossed Tower Bridge and got to halfway in 1:34:55 by my watch. Okay...but a little bit slow. My preference is to be 15 seconds under at halfway, and 30 seconds under at the finish. But hey, I was well within the window, right? The halfway window was 90 seconds under to 30 seconds over, which I was within.
Heading out to Canary Wharf, we actually got a good look at the pro men coming back - Munyao, Tola, and AdvancedRunning favorites Bekele and Cairess. I don't think I've ever been that close to the pros at a major before, so that was pretty cool. If Bekele is reading this, hi, I was the weird tall guy from London. (The one with the flag.) Please continue wrecking my age grading.
Meanwhile the chaos on the course shifted from fighting through slower groups in other starts to wading through the carnage of people blowing up. I don't know if it was especially bad, but - again - it kind of hits different when you know people are following you and also you're on English roads in a world major.
As I was going, I was keeping track of the splits. I knew it was going to be close...but when I saw 3:01:16 at 25 and checked my band (which said 3:01:10 for a 3:10 bang-on), I knew things were close. For reference, pacers' flags at London actually say "Sub [pace]" because they're expected to come in up to a minute under their time. My target was 3:09:00 to 3:09:59. We could make it, but it'd take a bit of a push.
Coming around Buckingham Palace, I was checking my watch and checking the time. I thought I'd make it. And then I crossed the line and stopped my watch.
3:10:00.
Fuck.
Post-Race
But hey, some people managed to hang with me. (Shout out to Nathan on the PR!) I gave (and got) congrats, took a couple of photos, picked up my stuff, and handed in my gear. Like hundreds of other people (my god like hundreds of us), I stopped by Waterstone's, went up to the cafe, and got a tea and scone. (Very good post-race fueling, I must admit.) Got back to the hotel, showered, and went out for pints and dinner post-race with the gang and my dad.
Also, I checked my official time. 3:09:57. I made it, but just barely. It was a bit slower than I'd like, but hey - not too shabby for doing this in 1080s.

Epilogue

So Long, London
Jazmin made it through a bit off target (like 19 seconds, I think), although it was a bit of a struggle, she said.
David...had a rougher go of it. He himself was injured going into the race, so he had to take his flag down around mile 22. He still managed to finish, though.
As for me: Got home that Tuesday. Told myself that I wouldn't do this again next year as we were going through Newark passport control (aka: Satan's butthole). Changed my mind after I got back on Eastern time, went back to work, and realized what I'd missed. Ran a trail 10k (Leatherman's Loop) the week after because (again) I do not value my bodily integrity. (Also, it was an impromptu midlife crisis.)
It took me a while to gather my thoughts - and even longer to edit this down somewhat. And yes, this is actually edited a bit from where it was.
Finally, one thing I've kept coming back to is the Boston Globe article about 26.TRUE that came out around the same time as the Boston Marathon. I highly suggest you read it - I couldn't decide whether to lead or to end with this, but at any rate it's worth it.
Made with a new race report generator created by u/herumph.

TL:DR at the bottom! Read that first because I'm horrible at writing even the shortest of essays, also working right now so I don't have time just an extremely quick vent.
Going to keep it short and simple as possible because it's better that way.
Most probably going to sound like a wimpy kid but I think it's kind of over for me, I've made so many mistakes with the chicks that were into me in high school that they all became uninterested in me. I was just an extremely soft dude who didn't put dating into the next level (getting in bed with my dates) and I wasn't as handsome so that they would grab me by my crotch or something like that, so they all became really bored/annoyed of me.
Also overromanticized a girl which I talked to for literally 3 minutes in real life and 15 total minutes on Instagram, not going to get into the details I just approached her and was completely shy and mumbled something to her (basically asked her out), she instantly rejected me. We were both young and it was innocent, I'm really happy I approached her that day now, but back in the day I was extremely sad and mad, I was an even wimpier kid than now. What I'm not happy about is that I was ghosting her irl in school, because she rejected me and also didn't text me back on Facebook (she probably didn't even see the message because facebook is messy and puts non friend messages to a certain hidden message section), she was visibly mad iirc. All of this doesn't matter that much either to be honest, we talked after I even gave her a little love letter with a gift :3 . I respect her a lot and of course still have a crush on her, but nothing serious I'm not a stalkepsycho. Just needed to include this in the post because I still think I fumbled her and she means a lot to me to this very day, healthy or unhealthy to ponder about this encounter still idk and idc tbh.
After high school came online dating (Tinder). I was started getting into one night stands, thinking back now the few first girls I slept with were really hot but I was underperforming in bed or was just a complete weirdo in general (not much skill with chicks still back then). I was also a casual porn consumer until around my first couple one night stands, which was a really big mistake, porn probably impacted a lot of things in my life even though I was a pretty light consumer of it.
I've had 2 short (couple of months) friendship with benefits or situationships whatever you might want to call them around this time from Tinder. Both chicks cut it with me but I didn't care that much I was already dead inside a bit.
Hooking up with strangers from tinder was a huge mistake, I became a complete womanizewoman hater. Made me feel bitter about how I fumbled a lot of chicks in high school who liked me, I have the feeling they dumped me just because I didn't F their brains out, which they probably dumped me for to be really honest. Made me feel that I'm just a walking dildo.
My wording/composition might be horrible and the little wimpy storyline above might as well just be a past pondering messed up anxiety vent.
What I'm trying to get at is that I became completely bitter person, extremely horny with little to no friends and no female partner (friend or sex partner even). I hate my past, I hate where I'm at now, I kinda hate women a bit too still although I think that's gonna completely fade away very soon. I don't think I'm gonna find women in the future (balding, I'm unsuccessful in my work hence I'm broke and time is ticking).
I also think of my past mistakes too much, in an extremely unhealthy way, I have the feeling that it's all over forever and I've been robbed of everything. It's eating me up inside. Curious if any of you feel the same a bit and how do you fight it, days just go by I know sometimes it's better sometimes it's worse but I feel the same since nearly 6-7 years for now. Completely burnt out after high school it seems, I peaked at high school and I didn't ride the waves properly? I feel like I fumbled the bag/chicks and it's just over.
TL:DR
I think of my past mistakes for 6-7 years now which seems to be extremely unhealthy, I missed out on all of teen love/teen sex and it made me extremely bitter.
What I'm really mad for is that I can't seem to live/enjoy life properly, I put myself in an imaginary idiotic different timeline that I ponder on, being depressed about the good old "WHAT IF" if you know what I mean, it's really eating me up inside and I have no idea how to deal with it because the feeling is just becoming stronger and stronger.
Curious if a phsyciatrist/phsychologist can do something with this or I shouldn't consult with them and I'm just a wimpy lame kid who just needs to man up. I try my best still tho, I work out, my hobby is my work and I make better money than my friends do, just got my license, have a car, fixed my sleep schedule etc.

Tried to post this a few months ago and then chickened out but decided to go for it. I dated a guy when I was 18, he was about 4 years older than me. That relationship was the closest thing I have ever had to love. Our first time meeting was a double date, we went to a party together where he accidentally punched me in the face (he was supposedly rough-housing with a dude behind me while I was sitting on the couch) he apologized profusely and then rushed me to another room to check out my face and clean up the blood from my busted cheek (I still have the scar under my eye) and we had a very hot kiss. We went on an actual date in the next day or two and then were seeing eachother steadily for a few months. He introduced me to all his friends, even took me to a family gathing. He really made me a part of his life. He was layed back, always kind to me, adventurous, protective (in the best way, not controlling), he bought everything when we were together even cigarettes for me though he didn't smoke (not that I ever expected this). The intimacy I had with him was nothing I had ever experienced before or since (he was my second sexual experience). I could really be myself with him, like even my tired, quiet self that didn't want to say much sometimes and he never treated me like I was weird. I even farted in front of him and I think that says alot :) We were both on the fringes of society type people (he wore a mowhawk and I had pink hair and piercings). I remember when he told me he loved me, I said it back but I had no idea what I was saying. I thought telling someone you love them was just something you did after a certain amount of time in a relationship and I always figured this was what he was doing, it was just THAT time. Could he have actually meant it? I didn't believe he did at the time but as I was reading a couple relationship books I started to realize what a good guy he was and that he may have actually loved me. I get that feeling when I think of him and my mind imagines being with him now. I come from a family history of dysfunctional love and so I have operated in relationships with the "I will leave or hurt you before you can do it to me" mentality. Honestly I was 18 so I was not really looking for a long term relationship and my lifestyle was just pretty carefree at the time or atleast as much as I could make it. But I enjoyed being with this man, he made me feel safe and seen, even though I was still a very wounded person. At one point, I left town with my best friend whom I was living with at the time, she was ditching town with her BF and I knew she wasn't in a great mental space so I went with her to make sure she was safe. Her BF ended up stealing gas when we were leaving town and we were chased by Highway Patrol and through a national forest on foot before this guy stole a car and robbed a lady of her handbag. I called my BF a few days into the excursion and I told him the crazy stuff that we had gotten into and that I was scared, he ofcourse was totally supportive and literally organized my rescue with the help of some staff at my highschool (where I was still attending). After all this, I ended up moving back home (with my dad) and didn't see him much after that from what I remember. I know at some point I went on a trip to where I had lived before and ended up kissing a guy I used to have crush on, when I came back I told BF what I did and I could tell he was pretty disapointed and hurt but acted like it wasn't a big deal since we only kissed and I didn't have feelings for the other guy anymore. But I think this may have been the start of our end which makes sense. I don't remember us ever really officially breaking up. A while later though after I hadn't seen him for a bit I remember calling him up before I was going to leave town and go on a trip. We hung out at his place and ended up being intimate, which was my intention in seeing him. I was just feeling like, "I am an independent woman and I do what I want, this guy doesn't really care for me anyway, he just wants my body so I can use his too". It was not like the other times we had spent together though and I didn't feel good after either. I felt empty and more dead inside than ever. A week or so went by and he texted me to tell me I had left something at his place, I sent the response "you might just be keeping that" which shows the vengeful attitude I felt towards him, for feeling used even though I obviously was just as guilty and more so. I didn't get a response back. I have thought about him from time to time but more so lately. I think about him sometimes during the day and almost every night for the past week or so. I don't have his number or any mutual friends anymore. I tried to look him up several years ago to just send him an apology for the cheating and being just a jerk in the end and tell him he didn't deserve that (at that time I was just wanting to right all the wrongs I had done to people in life after finding faith in Jesus) but I don't remember if I ever was able to find him on FB or sent the message. I haven't seen him in years but did run into one of his friends a couple years ago who said he was still in town and not married. Is this connection I had with him something that could be viable 15 years later? I honestly feel like I would rather be with him than any one else. I don't want to meet anyone new. I just want to be with him and feel the way I did with him before I screwed everything up. Am I just lonely and regretful or is there any hope for this situation. Has anyone had a similar experience? Am I just dreaming? I don't know if I am feeling this way for a logical reason, are feelings something you should ever really pay attention to in this kind of situation? Am I a psychopath if I look him up? Should I jyst wait and hope for fate to reconnect us? Is this something I should hold out hope for? I haven't dated much in the last ten years (about 5 first dates) and zero intimacy. I am 34 which may be part of my problem, my body is like, "we need a man and babies, pronto!" I just miss this guy, is that crazy?

In memory of Leslie Shay
10 years ago, on May 13, 2014, Leslie Shay (played by Lauren German), the fan-favorite character of the NBC studio's series Chicago Fire, died in the finale of the second season. True, viewers only learned about this when the third season started. The death of the character was followed by an uproar from the audience, the popularity of the series (which had been on the rise until then) and the number of viewers decreased, because many people stopped watching the series due to Shay's death, including the author of this post (I reached the end of the third season). Due to the anniversary, I started researching on the Internet to better understand why Shay's character was destined for this fate, and using quite a few references and also abundant with spoilers, I will share with everyone what I came up with in this post. I will also write my own opinion.
(I apologize for any grammatical errors, I did not write the post in English and I created the English version with the help of Google Translate)
Shay's character probably doesn't need to be introduced to anyone, but if you do, this link nicely summarizes why everyone loved her so much.
https://screenrant.com/chicago-fire-leslie-shay-lauren-german-best-traits-facts-trivia/
When I started researching the topic, I read that despite the fact that Chicago Fire is already in its 13th season, Shay remains one of the most loved and most missed characters to this day. However, later, when I wrote the post, I could not find the source again, if anyone can send a link to this topic, please do so.
It is clear that if the series loses such a popular character, it will have an impact and will shake the viewers. Well, it turns out, more than anything in the show's 13 seasons. I found a lot of sources to prove this:
1)
People's Choice Awards, USA, 2015 / Favorite TV Character We Miss Most
In the above category, Shay made it to the top 5, which no one else did later.
https://www.imdb.com/event/ev0000530/2015/1?ref_=nmawd_ev_1
2)
Most shocking TV deaths of all time
https://tvline.com/lists/shocking-tv-deaths/leslie-shay-chicago-fire/
Shay is also included in the top 100 list above, as well as two other characters from the entire One Chicago franchise, Elias Koteas as Alvin Olinsky and Yuri Sardarov as Otis. Thus, Shay was on a list with the likes of Teri Bauer (24), Lance Sweets (Bones), Bobby Ewing (Dallas) or Ned Stark (GoT)
3)
And this is what ChatGPT answered when it was asked which of the characters in Chicago Fire had the most heartbreaking death (short quote from the answer):
"The most heartbreaking character death was definitely Leslie Shay. Oh, it was gut-wrenching! Shay, played by the incredibly talented Lauren German, was such a beloved and integral member of Firehouse 51....."
https://onechicagocenter.com/2023/07/24/heartbreaking-chicago-fire-death-according-ai-not-otisi/
4)
If I use the Google Search service, the answer to this search will also be Shay:
Question: "chicago fire most heartbreaking death"
Answer: "Leslie Shay died in a fire"
Searching the internet, it became clear to me that it wasn't just Shay's death that shocked viewers, but also the fact that the show's creators made the decision to get rid of Shay's character. This decision raised many questions and problems, which I will go through below. There are a lot of posts and articles on the internet about why Lauren German left the series, but in fact they were all based on a single, otherwise amazingly short interview that was made with Matt Olmstead. I found this at this link:
https://tvline.com/interviews/lauren-german-leaving-chicago-fire-shay-killed-off-549958/
If anyone has seen or read other interviews or other information, please share them.
I read a lot of comments under the link above, and I would like to thank everyone for expressing their opinions there. I read a lot of things in the comments that I didn't even think of at first, but it's good that they brought them to my attention, because I completely agreed with them.

1. The creators of the series killed off the third female character in 2 seasons, who was also one of the main characters.
2. Killing a character directly just for the sake of dramatic effect is already quite a boring solution
3. Olmstead praised Lauren German's talent a lot in the interview, but then why didn't the producers try to keep the actress?
4. Olmstead stated that there will be no flashbacks involving Shay. But in the first episode there were 4 (from Severide, Dawson and Boden)
5. The LGBT community also received a slap in the face, as an openly lesbian character was killed off. This is also a solution that has been seen many times and is boring.
6. Shay and Severide's relationship was one of the prominent aspects of the series, which made it worth watching, in fact, according to many, it was such a novel and well-constructed thread that the creators of the series were praised for this. After Shay's death, without the dynamism of their relationship, the series became boring.
7. Opinions also suggested that perhaps the goal was to attract the right target audience with Shay's lesbian character, but they no longer wanted to retain this group of viewers, so it was a harsh decision made from a business point of view by the creators
8. Olmstead defended the decision by saying that they could bring more and more storylines into the series, while without Shay's character, the exact opposite was true.
9. He also claimed that all the characters were assessed on equal footing when the decision was made. In comparison, they immediately replaced Shay with a new character who looked like her, was not a lesbian like Shay, and was 10 years younger. Because Lauren German was born in 1978, Kara Killmer in 1988. The message of this change was extremely bad in the eyes of the viewers
10. There was a commenter who suggested that the change was made so that the new character could be romantically involved with one of the male characters, and this actually happened during the third season when Brett and Cruz got together
11. If the purpose of Shay's death was to show how unpredictable life is, they should have paid much more attention to the details. The first part of the third season is full of mistakes and unrealistic solutions
12. It is strange that the interview only mentions in a few sentences what Lauren said to the fact that the creators of the series essentially fired her. In connection with this, it occurred to me that something else could have been behind the decision, which was never made public, but of course this is just a hunch.
13. As far as I know, Lauren German was the only main character in the history of Chicago Fire who did not leave the series by her own decision

There were many other strange things about Shay's death that could be found by searching the internet. I will also go through these in order.
A)
Let's return briefly to the fact that the popularity of the series decreased during the third season. This can be checked here
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Chicago_(franchise))
Based on this, it can be definitely stated that whoever made this decision, for whatever reason, caused damage to the series.
The data:
First season, ranking 51, number of viewers 7.78M
Second season, ranking 31, number of viewers 9.70M
Third season, ranking 47, number of viewers 9.65M
The first season brought good numbers, and it can be seen from the data that its popularity increased for the next season. However, the ranking of the series dropped almost to the initial level by the third season, and although the number of viewers did not decrease so significantly, the reason for this is probably that, in addition to the viewers who left, there were still those who only joined at that time. Another interesting fact is that the third season is the only one where Dick Wolf is mentioned as showrunner. It is possible that during the third season he wanted to be more involved in the development of the story, and it was his decision to pull something unexpected in the series, so Shay's death is due to him. Here is a show-like interview with the whole team, in which I found it strange that Dick Wolf was given the central place on the stage.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M2tCrma7t5o&t=2s
It was as if they suggested that he was the most important person. It can be imagined that he always had the final say in making decisions. As a counter-example, I saw an interview with the actors of The Avengers, where one of the directors was present, and the Russo brother remained nicely in the background, since everyone was interested in the actors, Iron Man, and Thor, etc. However, this was not the case in this interview. Obviously, I'm not a behavioral researcher, so I can't draw important conclusions from a single interview.
Of course, it is also easy to imagine that the writing team made an independent decision, but did not count on how much the omission of Shay's character would turn fans away from the series. Thus, Dick Wolf was the savior when he was forced to intervene personally in shaping the story to mitigate the damage. Of course, it is also possible that these events and what I wrote about the video above have absolutely nothing to do with each other.
B)
It's also strange how many storylines with negative outcomes were connected to Shay's character during the first 2 seasons. She was seriously injured several times (the ambulance accident in the first season, the hospital bombing in the second season), and she went through several crises in her personal life. Her first love, Clarice, left her, and months later she broke Shay's heart a second time. Devon tricked and robbed her. When Severide and Shay wanted a baby, she failed to conceive. A patient of her, Daryl, whom she sympathized with, committed suicide in front of her eyes, and Shay also fell into depression after that, while her paramedic partner and friend, Dawson, did not care about Shay's mental breakdown at all. During the two seasons, she was almost hit by a car, almost shot, stabbed with a syringe, which could have been contagious, and there must have been other cases that I left out of the list. Then came the third season, where basically the firefighters who were inside a huge explosion were not hurt at all, while Shay, who was on the ground floor of the building, died in this explosion. On the part of the writers, this amount of negativism was perhaps already excessive and quite unrealistic (like the case of Doctor Romano in ER, who was hit by the helicopter). It's like the creators didn't really like the character, or didn't want to do anything with her other than build viewers' empathy / sympathy for Shay so they could switch it to a dramatic twist when the time was right. But that's the opposite of good storytelling in my view. My opinion is that the reason for Shay's popularity is not to be found in the "grateful" storylines written for her, because we will find it only and exclusively in the fantastic performance of Lauren German
C)
It's very strange that Leslie Shay was a main character in the first 2 seasons, but if you look at the Instagram page of the series (more specifically, the entire One Chicago franchise), you can see that Shay's character received very little attention.
https://www.instagram.com/nbconechicago/
At the time of writing this post, there were 3588 posts on the site. I took the trouble to check if my hunch was right and scrolled through to the posts about the first 3 seasons.
Number of pictures where Shay is clearly visible among many people in a group picture: 15
Number of photos where Shay is with 1-2 other people: 27
Number of photos featuring only Shay: 6
Yes, I didn't write a bad number, among 3588 pictures a total of 6 individual photos were given to one of the main characters of the first 2 seasons of the series, perhaps the most popular character of the series to date. Although Lauren German is a famously reclusive actress, she even has more selfies on her Instagram than that
D)
It's also very strange that in the third season they introduced a storyline that says Shay's death was caused by arson. Unfortunately, the execution of all this was extremely clumsy and illogical for me. It was already revealed during the first 2 seasons that Shay's parents are divorced, they live in two separate cities, and that she has no sisters. You could tell this from the fact that when Severide and Shay talked about who would take care of their baby if something happened to both of them, Dawson's name immediately came up. It's illogical that Shay wouldn't have said her sister. In fact, the whole thread felt more like a readjusting to placate fans who would channel their frustration and anger over Shay's death onto the arsonist in the story - instead of the show's writers.
E)
It occurred to me that maybe Lauren's relationship with her colleagues was not good, and for the sake of peace, the creators got rid of the character. This suggestion is probably the furthest from reality, I have a lot of hits that prove that Lauren maintained a very good relationship with her co-stars even later. Here are some examples of this
Trees R fun
https://www.youtube.com/shorts/-rn0w-CTv-0
Shayveride back together
https://twitter.com/TaylorKinneyARG/status/1128137229577216000
S03 E14
https://hu.pinterest.com/pin/2814818493493352/
https://hu.pinterest.com/pin/630785491553579592/
From Lauren's Insta
https://www.instagram.com/p/BlRQVXqgxqP/
https://www.instagram.com/p/BWZMBislmnE/
https://www.instagram.com/p/_50dHgFijd/
https://chicago.suntimes.com/2014/10/15/18477177/chicago-fire-if-anyone-can-saveseveride-it-s-casey
In real life, Kinney is grieving the loss of his costar, too.
"I miss her like crazy," he said about Lauren German. "She was a great scene partner. Great actor. Someone to work with and someone to confide in. It was an honest relationship. We hung out off the stages, too. I didn’t take that too easy.”
F)
It's also interesting that I've been able to find almost nothing online about what Lauren thought about what happened to Leslie Shay's character. What we do know from Matt Olmstead's interview is that she joked that she wasn’t going to miss the Chicago winters (she’s a California girl). Other than that, this is the only reaction from Lauren that can still be found, it's completely professional and polite, and perhaps it's no coincidence that she thanked the fans the most for their support
https://cartermatt.com/133627/chicago-fire-season-3-lauren-german-speaks-shay-premiere-shocke
"Hello beautiful people! I want to say thank you to NBC, Dick Wolf and the entire team for letting me be a part of such an amazing experience. I have to say I've never been around a more gifted, special, heartfelt, funny and loving cast and crew as with the CF gang. The show gave me so many priceless gifts. I'm forever grateful. I mostly want to thank the fans for their support and love on this journey. You all are so beautiful. It was a great honor to portray Shay. I love her: her spirit, her flaws, her honesty. And most of all she brought me the most genuine & meaningful interactions with you all, the fans, & my heart swells with gratitude. Thank you, thank you! So much love to you all.”
F) UPDATE
I just found this article, which for some reason didn't come up amongst the search results for the past few weeks.
https://chicago.suntimes.com/2016/1/22/18408021/chicago-fire-alum-lauren-german-having-devilishly-good-time-on-lucifer
In this article, Lauren told a sweet story that I believe happened during the filming of the pilot episode of Lucifer:
Given her time on “Chicago Fire,” guest starring on “Chicago P.D.” and now on “Lucifer,” has German changed the way she reads about or watches crime stories in the news?
“I think so, but mainly I think my experiences have made me have even more respect for first responders than I did before I went to Chicago. Sure, I always respected them and paid attention when I’d see a fire truck going by or hear about the cops getting the bad guy.
“But after the training we went through with the firemen and paramedics in Chicago — plus now having worked with homicide detectives to prepare for ‘Lucifer’ — I can’t tell you how much I respect these guys and women.”
German found herself the butt of a few jokes during the filming of a huge scene in Los Angeles near the Dolby Theatre — the site of the annual Oscars show.
“There were helicopters flying overhead, there was all this commotion, but we also had real firemen there. It wasn’t too long after I left ‘Chicago Fire,’ so they were yelling at me, ‘You went to the dark side!’ They were really kidding me about going from playing a paramedic to playing detective.
“Of course the cops on the scene were yelling just the opposite — telling me, ‘No! You’ve come to the bright side!’ I loved that, because that’s the fun friendly competition between the firemen and police officers. It’s kind of like Army vs. Navy.
“But of course, at the end of the day, everyone’s on the same team. These people are my heroes.”
In addition, she also talked about her previous work here, based on which it can be stated that the rumors that she wanted to quit are completely unfounded (I considered this suggestion so unfounded that I didn't even include it in my post). She also confirmed what was also discussed in point E).
German did admit she misses “the whole Chicago crew I worked with — and the wonderful fans in Chicago too. Everyone in your town is so great.”
The actress said she considers co-star Monica Raymund “my best girlfriend” and also keeps up with fellow “Chicago Fire” castmates Taylor Kinney and Jesse Spencer “quite a bit.”
“In fact just the other day, Monica asked me that after I wrap [the initial 13 episodes of] ‘Lucifer’ to come over [to Chicago] for a few days and hang out with those guys. So I may do that around the end of February.”
If so, it’s likely German and her “Chicago Fire” pals will make a beeline to the Palm restaurant on East Wacker Drive.
“Taylor and Jesse and I lived in the same building [on the New East Side], and we’d go to the Palm like three times a week. It was so cozy there. We even had our own regular little booth!”
End of update
In regards to the oddities above, I can even imagine that Lauren's agent or agents had a hard time agreeing on a possible contract extension, and because of this, the creators preferred to get rid of the character of Shay. If that was the case, we will never know. However, if the decision-making really took place in the way and according to the criteria as stated in the Matt Olmstead interview, then it can be seen in retrospect that this was an extremely bad decision by the studio and that the writing team made a huge mistake
I am slowly coming to the end of my research, but before that I would like to discuss the mistakes that the writers made in the first part of the third season - perhaps these mistakes could indicate that they were very hasty during the implementation, or that they did not think through at all how to put together such an episode well. When an average viewer saw this episode for the first time, the shock was guaranteed by it (believe me, it HITS HARD), in this way the creators achieved their goal, but it was enough later to think about what happened, and the shock was already replaced by completely legitimate indignation of the viewing public.
Regarding the mistakes, for the sake of fairness, I also have to say that I consider 4 things to be extremely outstanding from the first 2 seasons of the series:
1)
The visual implementation of the series was amazingly fantastic, as if you were watching a 45-minute movie, and it still stands today. I don't know if this changed after the third season, but I assume not, since the series is still active today
2)
Atli Örvarsson's music
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1ABsDFMJr2E&list=PLXT2pBWM8DxfN4znwe3esSqg4LtBzlQz8
3)
The actors Jesse Spencer, Taylor Kinney, Monica Raymund, Lauren German, Charlie Barnett, David Eigenberg, Eamonn Walker, Joe Minoso, Yuriy Sardarov, Christian Stolte were all fantastic in their roles
4)
The writers did something really brilliant when they built Severide and Shay's relationship. The way these two people moved mountains just out of love as a friend to help the other was simply wonderful. The relationship between the two of them was central to the show, which is why it was so painful and infuriating at the same time that the writers didn't think it was important enough to keep it going after 2 seasons. So I didn't consider the series important enough to continue watching after the third season either, or to start anything else from the One Chicago group.
Mistakes in S03 E01:
Devon's character:

• In the last 2 episodes of the second season, it was revealed that Devon might not be as a bad person as we thought. The writers hinted at the possibility that maybe Shay could finally find her happiness with her. Whether Devon had really changed, whether she was telling the truth, was never revealed after Shay's death.

Shay's death:

• Why didn't the paramedics wear helmets when they entered a potentially dangerous building? In other episodes, the characters paid attention to this, but here they generously forgot about it
• During the first flashback, we saw that they started to treat an injured person. When the explosion occurred and Shay was lying on the ground, the injured person was disappeared.
• The firefighter (played by Preston James Hillier) who ran into the building before the explosion also disappeared
• In the flashback, we saw that Dawson was thrown backwards by the shock wave of the explosion before the ceiling collapsed. Shay, on the other hand, sat still, unaffected by the shock wave
• The firefighting team was in the middle of the explosion, the only injury in comparison was a broken leg. Andy Darden died instantly in the Pilot episode, according to the script, when a house fire started in a similar way.
• Shay's CPR was interrupted to take her to the ambulance. At the same time, the one who could have taken care of her was Dawson, who was next to her, and Shay herself, maybe even Mills, who had a broken leg. So why was it important to take Shay to the ambulance, if not because it gave the scene a dramatic, albeit illogical, ending?
• Several people (e.g. Cruz, Otis) in the episode did not behave like those who recently lost a friend, and this could not be the fault of the actors, but rather of the script. The situation was similarly strange in the Pilot episode after Darden's death
• Shay said that she has a good relationship with her parents, so it's very strange that they didn't apply for Shay's things, but Casey and Severide collected them a month and a half after Shay's death. Not to mention the later invented sister
• When Severide looked at a photo of Shay before playing the video, it can be seen that the creators did not bother to take a real photo, but instead used a screenshot from the first season.
• It's quite unlikely that Dawson would pick up a diary a month and a half later that still had Shay's signature on it, and the signatures were completely different

Again, in the interest of fairness, Severide's flashbacks, Severide and Shay's video were flawless. Just like the gesture of putting Shay's name on the ambulance door in the middle of the season was a great idea from the writers
Final thoughts:
This is how far I've come in my research. Unfortunately, I didn't find any reassuring answers, only strange things. If there was something else in the background why Shay's character had to die, it will probably never be revealed. If the whole truth was told in the Matt Olmstead interview, then in my opinion the creators of Chicago Fire made the biggest mistake of their lives by firing Lauren and letting the Shayveride friendship vanish. Plus, Leslie Shay's character didn't deserve such fate. Anyway, the first 2 seasons were a fantastic experience for me.
Although Lauren couldn't have known it at the time, she was doing very well, because after being unemployed, she auditioned for the role of Chloe Decker in the series Lucifer. Here she joined the team that involved Tom Ellis, Kevin Alejandro, D.B. Woodside, Lesley-Ann Brandt, Rachael Harris, Scarlett Estevez, and later Aimee Garcia, Tricia Helfer, Tom Welling, Inbar Lavi, Rebecca De Mornay, Dennis Haysbert and Brianna Hildebrand. The rest, as they say, is history. Lucifer was the biggest series of 2021 by racking a whopping 18.3 billion minutes of streaming across the year making the series the most-streamed show not just on Netflix, but among the entire crop of streaming originals. Lucifer was voted the best fantasy series of 2021 also, and Lauren German became very, very worldwide-famous.
https://netflixlife.com/2022/01/26/lucifer-best-netflix-show-2021/
After Lucifer ended, Lauren retired from acting, making her last appearance in November 2023 at an event in Chicago, the Heaven and Hell Convention. Here, of course, she was hilarious again, or to put it stylistically, funny as hell, and she simply proved why she was the actress who played Leslie Shay back then
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=um_hcX4FkfM
https://www.instagram.com/p/CzHxlcMqM3
Here are a few links at the end
My favorite fan video commemorating the Shayveride friendship
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rjS1LmJgCIo
Others have written their opinions before me on the Leslie Shay topic, e.g. a great post
https://www.thetvaddict.com/2014/09/29/did-chicago-fire-kill-off-the-wrong-characte
A little fun
https://www.tiktok.com/@chicagofires/video/7255400196711107886
Still a little fun
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7vZOsrSHql0
Thank you for reading through!
PJ
(this post is free to use and redistribute, but please at least credit the source! Thanks)
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Episode 113 - Our 'hiatus' is over and we provide a long awaited update on the 'hoarder' tapes with guests Aron Challinger and Professor Jason Bainbridge. They bring us bang up to date with what has been uncovered as well as the plan for cataloging and viewing the material.
We also delve into the background of the individuals who recorded the material as well understanding the final fate of some of the tapes.
All this plus, who was Pluka a Duck?, our very own Space Pirates part 2 moment and the most important question...are Rob and Mark back in the podcasting saddle?

This is the final arc! Yippee, hooray, and other such exclamatory remarks. Will Billy finally get to have a well-deserved rest? Is his mental health ever going to recover? There’s only one way to find out.
The first arc is here.
The second is here.
And the third is here.
Content Warning: Suicidal thoughts and contemplation
You know the drill: credit to SpacePaladin15 for the universe.
Memory Transcription Subject: Billy Marsh, Human Trash
Date [Standardized Human Time]: March 26, 2142
There was a parade on the main street, meant to honor everyone who fell during the war against the Federation. Some cheered, some cried, some just smiled and remembered. It was a day of remembrance, but also healing, of recognizing the past and moving forward from it. It was another one of the many holidays that had come about as a result of the war, another day of connecting to others who had experienced tragedies during the first eight months that Humanity existed on the galactic scene.
And where was I? Sitting in a shitty apartment, drinking myself to death trying to forget. How ironic.
It had been like this for about a year now. The military was the only thing holding my life together, once my contract was up and they didn’t accept my reapplication I knew it was over. They set me up with an apartment, some benefits for my service, and a job, thinking I could handle it from there. I couldn’t, and now I’m jobless, benefitless, and rotting in a cheap apartment. All it took was one year for me to ruin it.
I lifted the bottle, not even tasting the foul Venlilian alcohol anymore. It didn’t matter what it tasted like, all that mattered was it let me forget. I couldn’t live with the memories, but every part of me reminded me of them. My arm, my legs, my scars, my face, my eyes, not a single cell of my body was without memories. I’ve tried to tear out my bionics more times than I can remember now, but for some reason, I always stop just before they finally release their grip on me.
I went back for another drink. I had pushed everyone away from me, they shouldn’t have to worry about me. I had bothered them enough already, taking up time they could be used for better things. Why should they spend their time trying to help a piece of trash like me? They shouldn’t, they just didn’t realize it, so I decided for them. I acted angry and distant, but switched my attitude on a dime when I was visiting my assigned therapist. No one should have to worry about me, I didn’t deserve their concern.
I lifted the bottle again, but stopped as I realized it was empty. I check the floor around me, finding countless more empty bottles before finally sighing and standing from my seat. I slogged my way to the kitchen, only to find all of the reserves there dry as well.
I didn’t have the mental energy to slam the door, though if I did I would most likely rip it off its hinges with my bionics. Instead, I just left it open, like a trap without any bait. I’d get the bait soon, but first I wanted to at least look Human. I didn’t want anyone else to have to deal with me, they had their own busy lives and didn’t want to deal with some drunkard veteran, so I’ll at least try and cover the stench of booze with some cheap body spray.
I stepped out of the apartment looking, smelling, and feeling like shit, because I was, but not enough of a shit to make people care. I just looked like someone who didn’t know how to take care of themselves, not a veteran who is contemplating suicide.
I winced as the sun hit my eyes, a throbbing hangover barely held back by the over-the-counter headache meds I had been religiously taking every day. I barely ate food anymore, just ibuprofen and alcohol. It was all I needed, it’s not like I moved around anymore. I only walked to the fridge, to the store, and back to my seat. I didn’t mind it, I deserved it.
I blocked out the festivities around me as I entered the liquor store, a new one this time. My last one had cut me off for clearly drinking too much, all that succeeded was making me walk a little more. I gathered the highest-proof drinks I could find and made my way to the counter.
As the cashier rang me up, she tried to make small talk. “So, you’re a fan of the alien stuff. Couldn’t get into it myself, too strong.”
I didn’t respond, earning me an awkward sigh from the clerk. She finished scanning all of my items without another word, not even asking for me to pay as I placed my card on the counter before she could ask.
I picked my drinks up and headed for the door. She tried one more time to get me to speak. “Have a good day.”
I paused for a split second, before stepping out fully and letting the door close behind me. I wanted to explain to her exactly why I was never going to have a good day again, but then I would be making my problems her problems. I’ve caused enough problems for enough people, I’m done with that.
Once again, the streets and buildings passed in a blur and only began to retake shape once I was in my apartment. I stepped inside and dumped everything on the counter before I shut the door. I didn’t bother locking it anymore, no one was going to rob my home unless they were looking for empty bottles or cans. I took what I wanted and stuffed the rest into the fridge, now to return to what I was doing.
I sat in the stained, dented, misshapen, and honestly ugly chair and popped the tab on the first drink. I took two deep gulps before returning to staring at the wall in front of me. The day continued like that for an unknown amount of time, all the way until the sky began to glow orange and festivities were finally dying out.
With another empty bottle in hand, I looked out of the singular window in my apartment. In a flash, memories came rushing back. Memories of the Cradle, of my naivety and ignorance of just how the universe worked, of how cruel and unjust it was, and how idealists were chewed up and spit out.
Next, the Battle of Earth appeared in my mind. I had become much more cold, but I still cared enough to be considered Human. I could vividly remember the clean, metallic halls of the Federation bomber as we rushed down them, and also the stale smell of the cabin in the woods. I tried to hate the aliens that were occupying the cabin with us, but deep down I wasn’t that kind of person. In the end, I became that person.
Then I thought of Sillis and the constant rain making even our water-resistant suits damp. Those were the last days I could call myself something resembling a Human. I was consumed by hatred, but there was still something left deep down. Even if I acted distant, I still cared. I tried to hide it, but I couldn’t fight my nature. That was until I lost everything.
I took another deep drink from the bottle, trying to fight the memory of my allies. But they wouldn’t leave, they clawed their way to the front of my mind. I missed them, I missed them so much my heart broke. I failed them all, they all died because of me.
If Owen and Brandon were here, they would be talking about the weather or their favorite sports team while Ryan and Joshua shot jokes at each other about anything they could think of. James would be silent but not absentminded, listening intently even if he wasn’t looking at the conversation. Even Ueli would be grumbling along as we made the motions through the street, putting up a front of anger to hide his sorrows.
Gabriel and Jared, the two brothers would be comforting each other, supporting one another through hard times while Valya would be stoically listening to Jack and Teguh argue back and forth. Of course, Max and Sam would be shaking their heads back and forth as the argument grew louder and louder.
Blake would be making constant sarcastic remarks to every joke Kelly told, and the duo constantly playfighting with one another. Liam and Simmons would be checking their equipment, meticulously reviewing every aspect countless times to ensure everything was as it should be. And of course, Cody would be chatting it up with me, pointing out little details in the environment to comment on.
Before I knew it, I was crying. Alone, in a dim apartment, drinking poisonous alcohol, I cried my eyes out. I slid out of my chair and curled up in a ball on the floor, trying to comfort myself but only ending up making myself look more pitiful. I was Human trash, lower than even the germs and mold growing in the corners of my house.
This needed to end. I had been rotting in this room, gorging myself on liquor for far too long. I was just sucking up air, giving nothing in return. I’m a fucking parasite, and there’s only one way to deal with parasites.
Bottles clattered around me as I stood, some of them spilling what little was left in them onto the hardwood floor. I dragged my feet through the piles of trash, not caring enough to avoid making even more of a mess. I left the front door wide open, it’s not like it’s going to matter anyway. I’m not coming back.
I made my way to the roof, climbing the stairs with what little determination I had left to complete my final task. The afternoon sky was bright orange in the west, slowly fading into darkness to the east. There were no stars in the coming night sky, however, the only light in the dark was the artificial light of the city.
I made my way to the nightside and stared off over the city. New York was once a wasteland, but now it was one of the most important cities in the entire galaxy. People built the city back stronger than ever and turned the now water-filled creator into a memorial site. People came from all over, from other planets to visit the monuments erected in the name of the countless people lost that day and of the countless soldiers that were killed in the needless war. Every soldier who died on an alien planet, in space, or on some moon was remembered and with a field of statues that surrounded the crater.
I stepped onto the ledge, looking down to the street below. I was easily high enough to die, all it would take was one more step. One more step to put a guaranteed end to the memories, to the suffering. Just a small step and nothing would hurt anymore. I wouldn’t have to live with the fact that I was the single lowest form of life around.
So why couldn’t I do it? I had come up here countless times now, but I couldn’t do it. What was stopping me? It’s right there, it’s easy, it’s painless, why couldn’t I take the final step? Was there something left, some final action in the back of my mind that was stopping me?
I slowly lifted my eyes to the horizon once again, spotting what I had left to do. The memorial, I had never gone to. That was it, I’ve never visited my fallen comrades. The final act I had a duty to complete, once that was done I could do it.
I made a promise to myself, that once I visited the memorial I would finally take the step.
I returned to my shitty apartment and made my way to my room, finding a pen and paper. Then and there, I wrote my plan for the next day, down to an exact time.